#so check that out

[plush-rabbit]

Simmering and Smothering

Part 2 to It’s Always Coffee

Word Count: 7K

A/N: I’m soft for this guy rn. He’s so !!! Anyways, I um don’t know what else to say

- You stand with a group of people, a lanyard hangs from your neck, and you pinch at the plastic cover that holds a card reading “Visitor” stuck on it. People part of the group peek through windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the wonders behind the glass. You're sure at some point you saw Dr. Ohnn standing close to a coworker. He must have felt your gaze, because he looked up and you had to fist your hand to restrain yourself from waving at him. But when the scientist beside him puts their hand on his back, returning his attention to the project in front, you find yourself digging your nails into the flesh of your palms.

You look around, but nothing catches your eye as it should at Alchemax. While you knew that they wouldn’t show a tour group all the dark and gritty experiments, a part of you wishes that you were able to slip away to explore, but any chances of that were snuffed out with a warning at being kicked out and banned should you stray. However, you do enjoy getting to step foot into the building. The group is led through glass doors, and you hear a few people sigh in relief. Walking in, windows line the room and let in a nice glow of sun. 

“Okay,” Dr. Octavius says with a clap of her hands, “this is the cafeteria where we will be having lunch. Those tables over there-” she points over to a cluster of tables that have been protected with stanchions- “will be where you all will be eating. Lunch is one hour, and if anyone needs to go to the restroom, please contact a security guard.” Her gaze is friendly, smile wide and tone with the slightest hint of superiority, she speaks to all, before her gaze lands on you, her smile falling ever-so-slightly. “If you fail to inform a guard, and are caught wandering, you will be immediately removed from the premises.” Smiling, you give her an “okay” symbol, and in response, she looks away from you. “Okay!” She chirps, taking a step to the side, she sweeps her arms towards the selection of food. “Enjoy your lunch.”

You’re at a cart, holding a tray consisting of fruits, and a bottle of juice. You peer over the selection of bread, holding a saran wrapped bagel. You pull your mouth into a line, wanting to put it back, but unsure if that’s okay to do so. Sure, it’s saran wrapped, but what if it’s not okay to place things back. You’ve already picked it up, and with a sigh, you place it on your tray. You look over the rest of the selection of the grains, and perk up at the sight of a muffin. Happily, you reach to grab at it before your wrist is grabbed at.

“Hey-” You bark out, pulling your hand out of the grasp and turning to look at whoever it was that clutched your wrist. You stop short when you realize that it’s Dr. Ohnn. “I feel like we talked about appropriate ways to greet others,” you muse, grabbing at the saran wrapped muffin. 

“What are you doing here?” he hisses, and you frown. 

Your eyes scan his face, and you fold the tray closer to you. “You’re upset,” you conclude, tilting your head with furrowed brows. 

“Of course I am,” he hisses. Your ears begin to burn, and you look around the cafeteria, many of the patrons sitting down and ignoring you- including the tour group you are a part of. When you look back at him, he continues. “Why are you here?”

“I’m part of the tour.” You jerk your head over where your tour members sit behind the stanchions. “Fisk was promoting it- something to show off Alchemax and how family-friendly it is. But if you ask me, I think it’s just a cover to stop people from asking-”

“I don’t care,” he rushes. 

You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay, you don't have to be rude.” His eyes widen, and his shoulders rise. He opens his mouth, but you press forward. “Listen, I paid my way in, okay? If you’re upset with it, then I don’t know what to tell you.” He stays silent and you look back to your group. Turning back to him, you start. “Is that all, Dr. Ohnn? May I go sit down, or do you want to continue reprimanding me?”

He opens and closes his mouth, and when you turn on your heel, he calls your name. You turn to him with a waiting look. “I apologize.” You encourage him with a nod of your head. “I just-” he looks around, and grabs your wrist, pulling you to another station of food, grabbing a tray, and standing in front of the selection of fruits. 

“You just?”

“I hadn’t thought that you would be here. I-” with his middle finger, he pushes up his glasses by the bridge- “I wasn’t aware there was a tour going on.”

“Does that matter?” You ask, grabbing at a cup of peeled mandarins. 

“Scientists are usually the one to lead groups,” he says quietly, "due to the fact that it is our projects we are showcasing. We all take turns with it given that leading groups take time away from our projects. This should have been a group that I would have led. Dr. Octavius must have seen your name on the roster and decided to lead it for the day.” He gives you a look. “I’m surprised that she let you in.”

“I paid,” you shrug. “She isn’t happy about it or anything, but-” you end it with a shrug. “Anyways, I won’t bother your lunch or anything. I’m simply here to see the building and enjoy lunch.” You give him a smile as you lift up your tray. “Have a good day Dr. Ohnn.” You nod your head, ready to walk away before he stops you.

“Do you have to sit down with the others?” You turn to him, and look at him quizzically. “We um- We never finished our conversation from the other day.”

You tighten your grip on the tray. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “You kinda left without exchanging numbers. But I don’t think I’m allowed to sit elsewhere.” You look back at your group. “I’d invite you to sit with me, but I’m not sure if I could give you quite a riveting conversation as your work buddies.”

“You can. You have,” he says so, without any hesitation. “Our last conversation was entertaining.” 

"You think so?" 

He opens his mouth, before being interrupted by someone calling his name. "Jonathan," calls someone far too cheery from the door. A few heads turn to watch as another scientist- you think that they look familiar- and turn back around once the scientist enters the cafeteria. They turn on their heel to wave at another and it clicks- it's the scientist that touched his back.

You look back to the doctor, giving him a raised look. He has a sort of flush that colors in his face, and you purse your lips together. 

The scientist walks toward the both of you, but their attention is solely on Jonathan. "Jonathan-" they say his name with a sickly sweet tone- "I thought you were going to wait for me so we can have lunch together." They smile brightly at the other and you watch as they reach over to squeeze at his bicep. "You hadn't forgotten, had you?"

"My apologies, Dr. Owens." You don't miss the way that he refers to the scientist by their last name while they refer to him by his first. A frown tugs at corner of your lips- they refer to him by his first name. You glance between the two and a pit settles in your stomach. "I hadn't forgotten, but I got distracted. It must have slipped my mind."

"You don't normally get distracted," they note, and their eyes dart at you. With the consequence of being acknowledged, you smile at them. "Ah. Part of the tour group, huh? No wonder you bothered our precious doctor." They're far too sweet with their words, it makes you uncomfortable. You open your mouth to apologize, but they continue on. “I was wondering if we could get the chance to go over our notes?” You feel as if you're in the middle of something. Standing besides Dr. Owens, you feel unsure of yourself. You clear your throat. They turn to you, and their smile is beaming. “Ah, I didn't mean to interrupt. While I’m sure Dr. Ohnn would love to engage with others about theories and his work, I do have to steal him away from you.” Their smile turns gentle, and you feel silly standing between them. “Sorry,” they apologize with a smile. 

"Uh, yeah." You grit your teeth- that came out less eloquently than you would liked. "Sorry, Dr. Ohnn." You tap your heel against the ground. “I’ll leave you to it.”

"Oh- Um-” he looks at you, and you smile at him, shrugging your shoulders. He returns his look towards the other scientist, and you let your gaze drift down. You walk away, catching only a glimpse of their conversation. “What would you like to discuss?”

Sitting down at a designated table, the other tour members greet you. You smile and pick at your bagel, taking small bites, regretting not getting some kind of topping. You bite at your muffin, nodding along as the other group members talk about the experiments going on at the building. 

It would make sense for him to have a partner. He's attractive, and has a good job. With the one conversation that you've had with him, he was well spoken. You eat your mandarins, letting the citrus fill your mouth. Dr. Owens isn’t unattractive and they certainly seemed nice. You do your best not to look at the doctor and his partner, keeping your head down as you listen to the other people in your group. 

You know why you feel so bothered by it all. It’s dumb. You only had one actual conversation with him, but it was nice. He was nice- much nicer than you had ever given him credit for. You feel silly over being jealous of a man you only knew for a minute. 

-

"Fuckin' driver," you mutter under your breath, your lips curled in disgust. Fixing yourself, you cross your arms and decide to walk to the train station. It's incredibly late and something that you actively avoid doing, but you don't want to risk yourself with another driver. "Now I gotta walk." 

A part of you pays with the idea of putting in your headphones and at least having a calming walk, but you shake your head at that idea. You will not be murdered just because you wanted to listen to music. 

Headlights flash by and you bite the inside of your mouth every time. A car passes by, and you watch as the red tail lights blink on. You stop in your steps, taking a look around. No one else on the sidewalk acknowledges the car. 

“Okay”, you think to yourself, “I can't get abducted in front of other people.” You take a step forward and pause. “That's dumb. Yes, I can.” You scowl and tap your foot against the pavement, holding tighter onto the strap of your bag. 

However, no one else seems fazed by a car pulling over, and that gives you confidence to walk further. At the end of the car, you see the passenger window roll down. You hesitate again. Sucking in a breath, you roll your wrists, and as you walk past the car until you hear your name being called. 

You turn, and through the windshield, you see a familiar doctor waving at you. Looking around, you clutch onto the trap of your bag before making your way towards him.

"Dr. Ohnn?" 

He smiles nervously. He looks far too tense for someone in their own car. "Hello," he calls you by your name. "I was sure you would have left ages ago."

"Tour ran late- one of the kids explored without permission," you explain. 

"I'm surprised it wasn't you." You weren't aware he could tease. 

"I wasn't in the mood for any trespassing charges. Maybe tomorrow." You shrug, and send him a grin. “Who knows? Night’s still young and all.”

He turns his head, and you follow his gaze out onto the street before the both of you. "Why are you walking?"

“People had their own rides, and I didn't. I took the bus. After the whole fiasco, I missed it. I got into a taxi, but uh-" you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest- "the driver was being too sleazy for my tastes so I decided to take my chances walking.” 

“Oh- I’m sorry to hear about that.” He leans over the middle console of the car, with his hand pressed down on the passenger seat. “It’s quite late,” he tells you.

Your lips stretch into a thin grin. “Correct. It’s no wonder that you’re one of the top scientists at Alchemax.”

“You’re hilarious,” he deadpans.

“I try,” you tell him. The soft glow of the streetlamps casts him in a warm glow. “But I'd be more inclined to believe you if you were actually laughing.”

“Yes, well, I’ll try to laugh next time.” He rolls his eyes, and you smile sharply at him. 

“Is that why you stopped? To hear my humor?” You tease, taking a step forward, and he tilts his head to look at you. 

“No, actually. I thought it was you,  and I wanted to know if you would like a ride?”

You’re taken aback. “Oh! Um- No, it’s okay. I’m okay,” you correct yourself. You turn looking down the street where the crowd of people slows. You look back at him. “I’m sure you have your own plans for the night. I wouldn’t want to intrude or interrupt or anything.” You twist the strap of your bag in your hand. “While I appreciate the offer, you don’t have to worry about me Dr. Ohnn.”

“You wouldn’t be interrupting anything. I don’t have any plans.” 

You stay silent, weighing your options in your head. While you’d like to be in a car and taken to your home, you also can’t just enter his car. Even if he is the one offering. No. You can’t. There has to be a line. You have a crush on him- maybe. You’re attracted to him. Wait, that’s actually worse. You shake your head.

“I shouldn’t.” You bite your bottom lip and look at the air freshener that hangs down the rearview mirror. “I would want to get you into any sorts of trouble.”

“Trouble?” He says in a quiet voice, but alarm is still laced into his words. 

“You know-” you wave your hand in front of you- “with Dr. Owens. Would they be okay with you giving me a ride?”

He gives you an incredulous look. “What does Dr. Owens have to do with this?”

Your chest begins to burn, and it travels upwards to your face. “Would they appreciate you giving a ride to a stranger?” 

“You aren’t a stranger,” the way that he calls your name has your breath hitching, and heart racing. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you walking so far to a station at night.”

“Okay,” you shrug. “But you have to put in the directions on your phone. I’m easily distracted and won’t be able to give you any good directions.”

“Fine by me,” he pulls away and the door unlocks. You open the door, and the window slowly raises. “Between you and I, I’m not entirely great with navigation.” The noise from the outside mutes as you close the door, the lock clicking down on itself.  You click the seatbelt as you give him a look. “I get lost easily,” he admits. He grabs his phone and sorts through his applications, finally passing it your way with the map function on display.

“Don’t you have a PhD?” You enter your address, and return the phone, watching as he places the phone on the holder stuck to the car. 

“Doesn’t mean a thing if a shopping center has me turned all sorts of ways,” he admits, setting the car to ‘drive’ and pulling away from the sidewalk. You laugh, it starts as a snort, and forms into a chuckle and it has you hiding your smile behind your hand, trying to quell the laughter. 

You turn to look at him, the corner of your lips tilting upwards and wrinkling at your eyes. “I don’t even think I could picture you getting lost in a mall.”

He sits up straighter, and casts a glance through the corner of his eye. “It isn’t a particularly good image of me,” he confesses.

Humming, you lean back into the seat, fixing your bag onto your lap, playing with the zipper. “No, I’m sure it is,” you hum. “A renowned scientist, lost at a mall.”

“It can be quite traumatizing.”

“I’m sure it can be,” you muse, trying to hide the smile that slowly grows. "Many children often fear the mall for that same reason." 

He scoffs at your remark. “Did you learn anything interesting on the tour?” He asks, and you cross your ankles.

“I think we learned about atoms?” He chuckles at that, and you feel warm. “I gotta be honest, I was hoping for something a bit more, ya know?” 

“Atoms aren't enough?” 

"Not nearly,” you tell him softly. “Maybe if they brought out some secret project or like showed some sort of light show, then I’d be impressed.”

“Oh, of course,” he says with sarcasm laced into his words. “A secret project shown to the masses, especially where one child had gone missing.”

“Explored,” you correct, turning our head to look at him.

The GPS voice speaks, and he misses a turn. He mumbles an apology, the application already rerouting him. “If you join another one, I’ll make sure that there’s a light show.” He casts a glance, and misses another turn, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “I’m thirsty,” he tells you.

You blink at him. “You can stop somewhere and get something. I don’t mind waiting in the car.” The metal zipper of your bag shines under the passing streetlamps.. “You’re already doing me a favor by driving me home.”

“The coffee shop is still open. Would you mind accompanying me for a drink?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah- sure. I’d be okay with that. I still owe you that cup of coffee. You know, from when we met at the shop?”

He shakes his head. “Consider it my treat. I am inviting you after all.”

“But you did win that little wager, and you are driving me home. I could at least buy you a cup of coffee or something.” He shakes his head. “Come on-” you slap the back of your hand lightly against his bicep- “don’t make it difficult.”

“I’m not making it difficult,” he frowns.

The GPS continues to tell Dr. Ohnn to make a right when he can, and he fumbles with turning it off, grumbling under his breath until you offer your hand out. The phone is placed down, and you shut down the application. The phone is held in your hand, the application minimizing to show his background- a picture of- the phone is pulled out of your grasp.

“I don’t even get to learn what your background is?” You give a faux pout, leaning back against the seat. “Come on, I didn’t even get a chance.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” he tells you. “It isn’t all that exciting.” You stick your tongue out at him in response and he fails to suppress a smile. 

Pulling to the side of the road, you place your bag on the floor, snagging your debit card before zipping the bag up. Getting out of the car, you’re careful not to slam the door. You rush to beat him from opening the door. “Okay,” you draw out the vowel, slipping to move in front of him, “how about this. You buy my cup, and I’ll buy yours. I’ll even let you get a pastry- you know as a thank you for driving me home.

“You don’t have to. I offered to drive you home, it was completely my own volition.”

You give an exaggerated sigh. “Whatever you say, but the offer is there.”

As he orders his drink, you press your card against the payment terminal, telling the barista that it’ll be two separate transactions. You can feel his eyes on you and you can only smile, nodding when the barista confirms. Lacking your energy, he pays when you order your own. You’re sure that the barista is annoyed with the two of you, but at this point, you had a win that he was owed. 

With the lack of patrons, the two of you find a table placed beside the window. The two of you sit across from each other, and wait for your drinks to be called. Tapping your hands against the table, you look out the window, watching the people and the cars. 

“I was more than happy paying for your drink,” he comments. 

You look at him through the reflection, and he meets your gaze there. “I know. But you’re already doing me such a favor by taking me home and stuff-” shrugging, you turn to face him- “might as well buy you a drink.”

“You didn’t have to,” he mumbles.

“I wanted to.”

Looking at you, he opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when he can’t find the right words. You nod, letting him take his time and to continue with whatever he is going to say. Clearing his throat, he can only get a breath out when the two of your names are spoken. You turn just in time to see the drinks placed on the counter as the barista walks away.

“I’ll go get them for us.” He stands from the table and you watch him. He takes long strides, his head bent and arms close to himself, as if trying to make himself to the public. You hadn’t realized that he had such squared shoulders. He almost reminds you of a rectangle.

Placing your drink in front of you, he takes a seat. His teeth bite at his bottom lip and he brings the cup to his lips. Placing the drink down, he clears his throat. “Why did you ask about Dr. Owens?”

Ah. Maybe you should’ve kept quiet about that. “What do you mean?”

“You mentioned that I would get in trouble with them if I had driven you home.”

“Oh um, yeah. It’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying, I’m asking.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your gaze focused on your drink. “They just seemed into you is all. I thought there was something you know-” you lift your head looking at him- “between you and them.”

“You thought they were into me?” You choose to ignore the wonder in his voice. Opting to stay silent, you nod. “I can assure you, Dr. Owens is not into me.”

“It sure seemed that way,” you mumble into the rim of your drink. He stares at you, and you shift in your seat, hiding behind your cup. “What?”

“What made you think they were into me?” 

Your molars grind against each other. The rim of the cup is brought to your lips, but you don’t take a sip, you only press your lips against the opening, before lowering it back to the table. “Oh gosh, are you into them? Look, that's sweet and all, but I’d rather not play matchmaker to some scientists.” He stays silent, and you look outside the window, watching a couple walk past by. “You really wanna know?” He makes a noise of confirmation, and you let out a held breath. “In that little time that I saw the two of you, they had no trouble touching you. And they call you by your name, too.”

“My name?”

Nodding, you twist and untwist your legs. “Yeah.”

“Is that usually an indicator?” 

Lifting your hand, you make a see-saw motion. “Sometimes, I guess. Depends on how it’s used and all. Context, ya know?”

“I call other people by their names,” he counters. You nod, letting him continue. “I call you by your name.”

“Oh yeah- I um, I guess so,” you mumble, taking another sip of your drink, desperate to keep yourself busy.

“You never call me by my name.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was allowed.”

“Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be allowed?”

“I always thought you found me annoying.”

“I did.” You frown, and he gives you an apologetic smile. His hand lifts up, grabbing at a strand of hair and twirling it around his finger. “That doesn’t mean that I disliked you. I have to admit-” he lets go of the strand and it falls back to place- “I always did find your drive admirable. You weren’t one to give up. You’re quite stubborn.” You stare at each for a few moments, heat blazing itself against your skin, making a chill over your body. He breaks eye contact and tilts the cup, making a circle with the bottom edge. “Do you really believe that Dr. Owens likes me because they call me by my name.” You nod, your mouth too dry despite the drink in your hand to even consider speaking. “Hm, okay,” he hums. His hand runs over his stubble, and you wonder if he’s growing out a beard. “You said that they touch me.”

“I um, saw the two of you in an office- while on the tour.” Your hand pulls up to scratch at your shoulder. You feel the need to hide from him.

His smile stretches even more. “I thought I was losing my marbles.” You take a sip of your drink. “I thought that after all my imagining about-” he clicks the last consonant, and you straighten yourself, leaning forward- “I thought that finally, after all of your incessant questioning, that I was beginning to imagine you.”

“Mhm,” you hum, taking another sip of your very diluted drink.

“You were saying.” He rolls his hand expectantly.

“When you turned around- when you saw me- they immediately turned you back around.”

“So? I believe we were discussing the recent project that we’ve both been assigned on”

Grabbing a napkin, you dab at the table where a ring of water from the condensation has formed on the table. “It was how they touched you. They touched your back and lingered their hand on you.”

“I’m not following.”

You make a noise of discomfort, and fist the wet napkin in your hand. “I can’t explain it in words. It’s- It’s in the details and stuff. The observer's point of view.”

“Can you show me?” 

“Like?”

“Touch me.”

The napkin is clenched tightly in your hand, your nails ripping through the soft paper. Warmth flushes through your body, and you fear that he can notice the change in you. You know that he doesn’t mean it that way, but for him to say something so- so, intimate sounding, without meaning to, made your heart skip a beat. His eyes widen, and he stumbles over his words. “No- Not- Not like that. I hadn’t meant for it- I’m so terribly sorry-”

“It’s fine,” you reassure, waving your hand in front of you. “It’s cool,” you smile at him and he stops his ramble of words. There’s a rapid beat that bruises inside of your chest at his words- even if he did mean them innocently. “But you know, they touched you at the cafeteria too. They went up to you and touched your bicep.” You lift your hand, reaching over the table, letting it hover over his forearm. Glancing at him, he’s watching you, and you close your fist, pulling your hand back to you. 

“And you believe that all of those actions are due to the fact that they like me?”

Shrugging, you suck in your bottom lip. “It’s just my theory,” you whisper, embarrassment laced into your words. “They wanted to eat lunch with you too.”

The two drinks remain untouched and outside, you can hear sirens. His hand lifts up to rub over his mouth, and he has this faraway look in his eyes. “Okay,” he mumbles. 

“Okay?”

“Is there anything else that you want to add?”

You pout. “No.”

In the corner of your eye, you see a worker clean a table with a rag. You watch for a moment, and turn your head when chairs are fixed back into their positions, scraping along the floor. A part of you feels unsure about the conversation. While you wouldn’t believe that the scientist had a crush on you, you had at least humored the idea, but knowing that he isn’t interested in you, makes you want to go home.

You open your mouth to speak, and he beats you to it. “I’m hungry,” he states.

“I told you you could have gotten a pastry,” you point out.

“I want dinner. An actual dinner.” Sitting straight, it’s as if he has a new resolve. “Are you hungry?”

Blinking in surprise, you lift your shoulders. “Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I could eat something.”

“Good,” he nods to himself, and stands up, the chair squeaks against the floor. You follow his eyes, looking up at him as he adjusts the chair and stands by the table. “I’d like for you to accompany me to dinner.” Clearing his throat, his shoulders bunch together, and any confidence that he did have, is slowly evaporating. “That- That is if you want to, of course.”

You scoff with a smile. “Yeah, I’m game with that, Dr. Ohnn.” 

“Jonathan. You can call me Jonathan. I don’t mind it if you call me that.” He twists his hands, interlocking them, and pulling on the back of his palm, his skin stretching thin over his knuckles. 

Straightening yourself, you nod. “Okay. Jonathan it is. The same um, goes to you of course. You can call me by my name.”

“I already do,” and the way that he says your name, softly and tenderly, held with a smile, makes you turn your head and scratch at your neck in a desperate attempt to hide how wide your smile is.

“Mhm,” you squeak out. Standing up, you make sure to push the chair in and grab at the loose napkins and your drink. 

Following behind you, he throws his drink into the trash. This time, he’s made sure that he stands in front of you, stretching his arm out to hold the door open for you. Mumbling, you thank him, standing beside the door as he goes to open the passenger side door.

None of what he’s doing is helping quell your attraction to the scientist.

Clicking his seatbelt, he starts the car, driving away from the coffee shop. “Do you have a preference?”

“On food?” He nods, fumbling with the radio that plays the song of the week. You tap your foot to the beat. “Um, I think I’m good with most stuff. Restaurants are pretty inclusive about diets and stuff most days.”

“There’s a burger place on the way to Alchemax, do you know the one I’m talking about?” 

“With the really good burgers?” 

“Yes. Would you like to go there?” 

“Isn’t that too far?”

“They opened one relatively nearby.”

“Oh okay,  yeah.” You nod. “I’m game with that.”

“Good. That’s good.”

The drive to the restaurant passes by quickly as you chat about miscellaneous things- the weather, work, different coffee shops. Uncomfortable with silences, you keep the conversation going, jumping from topic to topic, trying to make something stick. However, the driver seems to be content with silence, nodding and giving one-worded answers, only really contributing to the conversation when you give your opinion on something.

Pulling into the restaurant, he takes a glance at you, and you smile in response. He opens his door, and steps out, and you follow close behind. The door is held open for you, you order your own meal, and before you can pat your pockets to find your card, he’s already paying for the meal. You aren’t sure how to feel about the whole situation. You feel good- happy and flustered even- but you can’t kid yourself. It’s dinner. With a scientist who you have pestered for a good while about what exactly is going on within Alchemax. It’s dinner with a guy who you had coffee with- twice. That’s it. 

When he sits in front of you, and smiles, you think you’re about to pass out.

Oh. He’s really cute.

No. Whatever feelings you’re having is a moment of weakness. Maybe you should download a dating app or something. 

Your newfound emotions aren’t settled by the end of the meal where you tell him a story about an old job that you used to work. He’s an avid listener, expressive and laughing when you start to smile uncontrollably. He pushes his tray closer to yours, letting you snag what little left of fries that he has. Even with bags under his eyes, he remains attentive during your story.

“No, and like my supervisor tells me “Well whole milk is regular milk,” and I’m so adamant-” you laugh mid-sentence- “that two percent is regular milk. Or like can be qualified as regular milk.”

“Why were you so adamant about it?” He laughs softly, leaning forward.

“Honestly?” You lean forward, stealing a fry of his and plopping it in your mouth. “I just really hate being wrong. Anyways-” you wave your hand in the air- “we have this whole spiel about milk of all things. And I tell him that I like oat milk and he’s like-” you deepen your voice to portray your supervisor- “‘Oat milk isn’t even milk. How do you even milk an oat?’”

“How do you milk an oat?” He asks with knitted brows.

“I-” you pause and tap at the table. “I always thought you blended it. You know, like peanut butter?”

“Yeah, but people don’t drink peanut butter.”

“I bet you that there is at least one person in the world who does drink peanut butter.”

“Okay, you find me that person and I’ll buy you a coffee next time.”

“Yeah, yeah-” you wave your hand, trying not to let your competitive side leak out. “Anyways, I’m sure they make almond milk the same way. Blended.” You lift a hand and point with your index, swirling it in the air.

“I’m partial to oat,” he admits.

“I gotta be honest, I think all milk tastes the same,” you whisper out the confession, covering the side of your mouth with one hand.

“Oh, now you’re being difficult,” he says with a roll of his eyes, adjusting his glasses by the leg. 

“I’m not, I swear! It just all tastes the same. Doesn’t stop me from asking for it at the coffee shops.”

“Even if it tastes the same?”

“I like feeling fancy,” you lilt, and he laughs.

“So you’re tricking your mind?” 

“Oh totally.” 

“With the fake milks?”

“Real, regular milk,” you counter. “Soy is fake- I think.”

“Oh, soy is fake, but the others aren’t.” He scoffs. “That’s where you draw the line.”

You laugh, taking the final sip of your drink. “Yeah, obviously.”

He joins your laughter, dipping his head down, and stray hairs fall in front of him. When he lifts his head, his smile is wide and open, and he has such a nice laugh- deep and the type that shakes his body. Pride makes your chest swell and heat burn over your cheeks at making him not only smile, but laugh. Fighting back the urge to move away the tray pieces of hair that have fallen, you clench your hand into a fist, your laughter slowly dying down. 

A quiet moment befalls the two of you, and you both look at each other. You rub the bottom of your shoe over the top of the other, and check the time. With a click of your tongue, you gather your trash onto the tray.

“We should probably get going. It’s close to closing time for them,” you explain, nodding your head back to the register where two workers chat.

“Oh, should we?” Despite questioning you, he follows your example and gathers his own trash.

“As someone who used to work customer service jobs, yeah.” Tossing your trash into the designated area, you stack the tray overhead. “I’m pretty sure that the employees probably hate us by now.”

“Good point.” He holds the door open for you, and you follow him back across the mostly empty parking lot. Inside the car, he waits for the engine to heat, and he turns to you. “I apologize for keeping you so late.”

“No, this was,” you hesitate choosing your words, “fun.” You nod your head and pull your bag up onto your lap. “I had a good time.”

“I’m glad that you did,” he says softly, giving you a final look before he gives his attention to the road. 

-

After a long day, you stand in front of your building, Jonathan joining you. You’ve always been much more comfortable with chatter than you have been with silence, but as you stand with him, you don’t feel as uncomfortable. You might even like the silence if it gives you reason to look at him. You stand on the steps leading to your home, finally looking him in the eye, and you hate the fact that he has such soft brown eyes. 

“Thanks for driving me home. And getting me a drink.” You kick at the ground, scuffing up at the dirt that lays in a thin layer. “And paying for dinner.” A jitteriness falls over you, and you can only twist and grip onto the strap of your bag. “Thanks for all of that Dr.-” he gives you a narrowed look and you quickly correct yourself- “Jonathan.”

“You don’t have to add my title,” he tells you. Beside him, his hand twists at the hem of his shirt. 

“Force of habit,” you say shrugging. Clearing your throat, you start. “Still, thanks. This was nice, Jonathan.” You like his name, and you hate the way that it makes you feel.

He nods, and raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Well, thank you for accompanying me to dinner. I had a good time.” He says your name delicately, rolling off his tongue, and you never thought that you would want to hear your name repeated over and over.

“No worries,” you answer breathlessly. You can’t think around him. Everything feels as if it’s too much- too hot, too close, too sweet. 

It was one day- two technically- but it was a short amount of time. You wear your heart on your sleeve despite trying so desperately not to. All it took was one day with him, and you think that you might like him. 

Oh, how you wish he was with someone else, then you could give yourself a reason to look away from him. 

With cotton stuffed into your mouth, you don’t trust yourself any further. You think that you should go inside- that maybe you shouldn’t be taking up his time. A part of you wonders when you’ll see him again. Shifting your weight between each foot, you pat your hands on your thighs, drying off the clammy feeling. You wish he would start talking again. Or maybe you should. If you go inside, then this could all be over. You turn your foot, and wave your hand in a goodbye, when he starts to speak.

“Will you be joining another tour group?” There’s a hint of hope that’s weaved into his words. He’s looking at you, and you wonder if you look pretty.

“As much as I enjoyed it, no.” You think you imagine seeing his shoulders slump at your words. “It wasn’t really for me. It was nice, but much more kid-centered.” His glasses are slipping down his nose and you wonder if he’d get upset if you pushed them up. “Will you be going to the café tomorrow?”

“I work tomorrow,” he admits.

“Oh,” you clear your throat, and fighting away the burning feeling that is burning in your chest, you suck in a deep breath. It makes sense to do this now. You have to take a risk. It’s dumb and highly unprofessional, but you need to tell him something. He has to stick around, just for a moment longer, just so you could get whatever pink and sweet is in you, out. “Would-” he word comes out much softer than you would have liked- “Would you want to exchange numbers, maybe?” You hope he says no.

“Really?” He looks so shocked, and so happy. A grin tilts his lips upwards, and like seeing his smile.

Nodding, you rub the flat of your middle finger against your jawline. “Yeah. It would be a better alternative than meeting during lunch on a tour group or a random chance meeting at the café. Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it,” he says eagerly.

You nod eagerly, unable to fend off your smile. “Cool, cool.” You suck in a deep breath, and wait for a moment, before you start to pat your pockets, pulling out your phone and clicking at the ‘New Contact’ section. Holding the phone to him, he grabs the device and places his information. 

Holding the phone tight in your hands, you tap your fingers against the back of the case. “I’ll message you later?”

“I’ll look forward to it.” He lifts his hand and waves at you. You watch his back as he steps into his car.

You can hardly believe that you even made it inside without dropping your keys from excitement and nerves. Behind your door, you clasp your hand over your mouth, pitifully trying to stop the smile that beams across your features. Oh, this isn’t fair. And oh, you can’t wait to message him.

[fandombead]

Consuming Darkness

Summary: Patton is being hunted down very persistently. He cannot find his family in this terrifying dark forest where the shadows try to pull him into them. He truly hopes they aren't here, but that means he is so very alone.

Words: 3,120 || It's on AO3!

Patton’s pulse in his ears made it so hard to hear what was happening. He already couldn’t see.

The side pressed himself further into the tiny crevice he’d wedged himself into to hide after being dropped into this unknown forest full of dead black trees and inky soil that clung to his shoes. The darkness was palpable, shadows like mist pricking his skin, but there was nowhere to escape from that. 

He swore the crooked trees reached down to trap him but he didn’t dare close his eyes and lose the very little light he could see with to keep an eye on the shadows— because there was something darker than the shadows here, a writhing part of them. It was alive and coming for him, and while he feared it might already know where he was, he couldn’t yet bring his legs to move again, to relinquish the small bit of safety he felt. 

He didn’t know where he was and it felt like he’d run the entire night before finding this reprieve. He wanted his family, were they safe? He hoped they weren’t here too, even if that meant he was alone. Were they also being tracked down by this shadow beast, by more of them? Had he run when they’d needed his help? He'd just been trying to get away. 

The shadows warped around the side of his hiding place. 

It had found him again.

Patton swore he was screaming as it descended on him and he clawed his way up the rock to get away, but it was as if the darkness stole his very breath, an oppressive heaviness that threatened to suffocate as it pressed down and tried to pin him. Patton tried to shove at the non-entity but there was nothing to push. A foul taste like ash and char coated his mouth and he coughed, but fanning at the air and covering his mouth with his shirt did nothing to displace it. 

He was seized by a terror he’d never felt before as he tried to cry out, the blackness only growing darker as inescapable as a blackhole, compressing in on him and freezing his core as his weakening fingers scrambled just to hold onto the outcropping of stone. He couldn’t and his grip failed him. 

Patton fell, tumbling as he barely managed to protect his head from being battered against stone. He landed painfully in the oily dirt beneath him. He let out a hoarse cry from his dry burning throat, unable to form words as his vision swam, but he could see again however briefly. 

He rolled painfully onto his knees only to see the thing descending on him. He fought to get his sore legs under him even as his lungs burned in protest of the abuse. 

Before it could descend and engulf him— and this time there’d be no fall to save him— there was a sudden flash went off in the distance. A tiny red spark against the dripping, inky sky, and yet it was blinding in contrast. Patton had to look away, though it burned out fast. Another went off in the same spot, and Patton squinted to try and see it. It looked miles away. It was the first bit of light he’d seen here and he wanted to run towards it, away from this monster who’d been temporarily stunned. 

It could possibly be what would save him.  

It let out a warbling hiss that got Morality’s feet scrambling under him and he had no clue where he got the strength. Everything ached, and his skin prickled with lingering ice everywhere that was exposed. He only hoped it wasn’t frostbite. He clutched his thin cardigan closer as he tore through the trees and tried to forcibly get feeling back into his chilled skin, but with his icy fingers, the effort was lost. Patton just grimaced and hoped he’d see that light again, to make sure he was heading towards it in this endless, repetitive forest.

He desperately searched for it, but it was like trying to spot a lightning bug in the sky while running for his life and not tripping over gnarled roots that hadn’t been in his path just seconds ago. He heard the whistle-like gale wind of the shadow trailing him. He knew he couldn’t look back even though it felt like no matter how fast he ran, it was curling its wispy tendrils right at the back of his neck, tugging at his back-most heel every time he took a stride, no matter how much faster he thought he was going. It had to be toying with him, he couldn’t make it to that far-away light that had probably already been snuffed out—

A deep blue light swirled and curved unnaturally from the same spot. Patton had to physically shield his eyes against it, lest it honest-to-stars blind him. His faltering step somehow didn’t result in his entrapment by the shadow, as it recoiled violently, ripping back from him even as the light fizzled again. He felt able to take a full breath of the muggy night air. He was thankful and took the chance for what it was. 

He was closer. It wasn’t in vain. He could make it. 

The land turned steep as he fought his way up and up a hill now, and the treeline stopped at its foot. 

Patton gritted his teeth and made his way up, the futile hope of safety there driving him for one last stretch. 

The oily dirt of the Black Forest turned dry and warm and a soft brown under his palms as he had to pull himself up some of the way. He was going too slowly.

The shadow grew bold at his stilted progress but when it tried to circle him, a crack of yellow light like lightning fell from the peak and it recoiled as far as the light spread, providing temporary safety. 

Patton climbed. Whenever the shadow closed in, the light in multiple colors banished it and it fled back down. He looked up and the hill seemed more a mountain. He looked down while trying to catch his breath and his hope sunk considerably. Darkness churned, raging below. Webby limbs trying to grasp his dangling sneakers, black coils trying to tug him down. 

He couldn’t see the ground at all, however high he was; without the low contrast of the forest, he could see how truly massive the turbulent beast was. It roiled and shrieked, obscuring the land that had to still be down there entirely in every direction. Its hiss and spindly limbs like dragon claws reached for him. 

Panic coursed through Patton’s veins. He shook where he clung to the small resting spot he had found to sit and stare. How could the little lights ever hope to stop that? How could a tiny glow stop a force the likes of an ocean looking to drag him down and drown him? 

“…tton!! Don’t look down!! Patton, please! Up here!!”

Patton was yanked from his thoughts as one of those lights– vibrant and familiarly purple– nearly struck him, whizzing past his head. The darkness that had crept up to his elbows retreated, releasing him and he let out a loud gasp like his soul had just returned after being nearly yanked out of him. He choked on the noise he made as he whipped around so hard, he almost lost his precarious perch. 

Looking down at him with a desperate sort of relief was Virgil, though his eyes still looked beyond terrified as he frantically waved Patton up. “Come on, buddy, you gotta move!! The light is running out! Get up here, hurry!”

Patton gaped and wanted to sob at seeing a familiar face, that his instinct to come here had been right. He didn’t waste time even as his vision blurred and warm tracks cut through the cold on his cheeks. With trembling hands, he climbed, Virgil his goal and progress marker now. Virgil reached down for him, but made the mistake of letting his eyes snap behind Patton in fear. 

Patton instinctively looked back to follow his gaze and Virgil screamed at him to stop. Startled, he let go of his hold to try and close the distance to his friend and then could not find it half a second later. He looked back in alarm and Virgil was gone too, there was only the deepest black he’d ever seen, blinding him to even his own body right in front of him. He shook at the chill that quickly set in, attacking and sapping at his core, entirely overwhelming. He couldn’t even think which way to move, if he even could move. The monster’s darkness curled up his limbs, trying to pull him away (down? He couldn’t tell). He curled in on himself, feeling weightless and barely registering the charred bone taste that hadn’t faded from before. 

He’d seen Virgil there. Was he alone? He’d been an arm’s reach away, had it gotten him too?

Before he could shut his eyes, something thin physically snagged around his waist and yanked. 

He was ripped out of the cold, the force of it making it cut at him like millions of icy shards. A searing wall of heat caught him and he almost lept out of the grasp immediately from shock, gasping. 

“Padre! We’ve got you!”

 Roman was here?

“Patton, are you conscious? Can you see us?” 

Logan’s voice. He sounded unusually worried.

“We just snatched him out of that demon’s grasp, I’m sure he doesn’t need a moment to gain his bearings.”

“Fuck! That was so long, how is he still breathing?! Were we too late again??”

“He’ll be alright, we’ve got him now. Roman, set him down, it is likely too much contact—“

Patton was dazed as he felt the far less burning warmth of the earth under him. Janus and Virgil standing to his right but worried eyes resolutely vigilant as they watched the rising darkness. He eyed the giant hooked cane Janus had clutched in his grasp, and what had to have been what saved him. He twisted, Roman still close by to support him, a much more comforting wall of warmth against his side. He frowned at the headcount and looked around again, asking if Remus was here too, but the others didn’t answer him. Roman and Janus looked away, pain and guilt in their eyes and Patton knew, then. He hadn’t made it here. They’d lost him. Had he been alone when it took him? What was this awful place and how did they get out?

He barely had time to grapple with their loss sinking into his heart, though, because the darkness had trailed him and it was with dread he realized all of them were now in that same danger. Logan stood in front of him now, wary as he held a small blue flame cupped in his palm. Patton’s eyes widened at it. Virgil, Janus, and Roman were the next line of defense, their backs to logic and morality as they looked ready to defend against the shadows however they could. It clicked in that moment that they were making a last stand here. But they could not defeat that thing. Not with their weapons or fists. The mountain they were on looked more like an island now, in a dark storming sea that was threatening to rise and wash them away. It would crash down and take them all with it. 

Patton whipped around to the light— a spearhead white flame that was shrinking under the crawling shadows trying to snuff it out. He lunged for it.

He didn’t know what he expected, but it enveloped his hand, flaring up a light, vibrant blue. It was impossibly warm against his chilled skin. The fire shifted in his hand, not burning. Patton easily bent it to his will like clay, making a rod of fire that he flung at the black wall coming down on them. Everyone shielded their eyes but Patton still saw stars as he blindly reached for another. With every throw it got smaller until he wasn’t willing to risk it further, kneeling by the flame that was but a dwindling campfire. Still, it kept the darkness at bay. Just barely. Before he knew it, the others were at his side, huddled in close to one another as the flame was a refuge in the swirling black void around them, getting smaller by the moment. Patton looked at them all, then at the little white flame. Patton stuck his hand in again, tentatively as Virgil tensed next to him. It flared a sky blue again and the darkness swirled angrier, trying to push in but unable to. Patton watched it before sticking his other hand in too. The flame grew more, twice the size it had been. Janus stared as he did, then added his own ungloved hand to the heat. 

The fire flared a near neon green as the two colors of flame overlapped and seemed to merge together. And the others caught onto what they were doing, seeing how the creature writhed and was forced back. They could add to it. Roman and Logan’s hands added flecks of indigo and orange and a darker green, and Virgil’s soon after created a rainbow between them, as big and bright as a bonfire. They were forced to stand back as the heat quickly grew with the flame, the colors swirling and tearing holes into the dark like it was just a tarp over them. It was almost overwhelming. And at the flame’s core, between all their palms, all their colors swirled faster and faster, combining into a shining black before it exploded. They were all shoved down by the force as it shot into the air like a burning firework and burst. It sparked and shimmered and completely irradiated the darkness, vaporizing the manifestation. The massive splotches of colored light were raining down to the earth, like dozens of meteors and they panicked as they scrambled not to be hit, not wanting to know what that’d do to them.

Patton cried out as one he couldn’t dodge hit him directly on, overtaking his vision and the heat of the impending impact singeing his skin.

Morality lurched, falling off the couch and narrowly missing hitting his face on the coffee table. He landed on Creativity, who jumped, sitting up with a shout of his own. This in turn woke Anxiety, who was on his feet in the time it took him to open his eyes, jostling Logic who’d been leaning against him. Deceit groaned from where he was draped across the armchair. They stared at each other with confused, startled looks.  

Before anyone could say a word, though, a figure hanging out by the window popped up. “Oh finally, you gays decided to wake up! The fucking sky out there looks like a unicorn got gut—“

“Remus!!” a chorus cut him off, shocked to see him and quickly confirming to everyone present what they’d shared. 

Remus quickly found himself insnared by a tangle of limbs, squished firmly between his brother and Patton and Janus, the others there with hands on his shoulders and back and he squirmed a little at the sudden barrage of questions.

“Hey don’t look at me, that one wasn’t my doing” he quickly defended, “I just wanted to see if getting eaten alive by the darkness was the exit strategy!”

He laughed as they all winced at this. “It wasn’t! I was basically incorporeal and my consciousness became part of that thing, though I couldn’t do anything cool like take over half of its body or be a parasite. It was colder than Jack Frost’s butthole in there, let me tell you–”

“Remus,” Roman groaned, almost sounding like a beg, making a face as he exasperatedly put his forehead against his brother’s shoulder. “Please, for the love of Disney stop making this unbearable for just two moments– we thought you died!!”

Remus snickered, and headbutted Roman. It was lighter than he would have which was borderline affectionate coming from the green twin, but which still earned some mild complaining. “Aww you guys really missed little ole me?? It’s not like I’d of been gone permanently! Only shot off to the subconscious to be excruciatingly rebuilt atom by atom for a few weeks.”

Roman could only cover his face at how casual Remus sounded. “Unbelievable– only you could ever sound eager about that.”

Roman didn’t buy it for one second and neither did anyone else present. They all knew it was the last thing any of them wanted to experience, and even someone as insane as Remus wouldn’t go looking through that on purpose.  

They pulled away to let Remus flop over on the couch, and they actually had a look through their living room window, marveling at the color-streaked sky. No one said anything for a while until Patton piped up that perhaps they could have breakfast. No one had any argument for it, more than happy to put off the conversation they’d definitely need to have about that shared experience. Not that any of them knew how to begin to talk about it, as it had never happened before and they were all admittedly too freshly shaken from it. But they’d gather themselves over a big, comforting breakfast and figure it out from there. 

They were just glad they’d escaped that nightmare together and decidedly didn’t dwell on what could have been if they had not managed to fight back. Would the mindscape look different? Would they still be here at all…? Things they wouldn’t have to get answered, hopefully. Perhaps it was a one-off thing. They might have trouble falling asleep again for quite some time, and they would definitely need to talk to Thomas about just what had gone down last night too. And they wouldn’t avoid it for too long, as that would not make it go away. No, for all their sakes and for Thomas, they would sit down and figure it all out, whether for prevention or to prepare and resolve it…should there ever be a next time.

But for now, they took breakfast outside for an impromptu picnic, eating and becoming more at ease under a multicolor-painted sky that hadn’t been in the mindscape before. Perhaps it wasn’t an entirely bad thing in the end, the test or trial or trauma it was. And they’d prevailed. They all sat a little closer, more watchful even as they conversed about unrelated mundanities, but there were no crawling shadows to be seen.

Patton, at least, felt warm.

[themarkedkyusei]

it’s me, back at it again with a character meme

[riacte]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

[julnites]

Red riding hood comic collab with the wonderful @yeehawpim (go check out their blog for loads of great comics!) 🌷 See the layouts he did here!

[sirfrogsworth]

Photographers all know about polarizing filters. They remove reflections off the surfaces of objects. We use them to see into water or windows that are obscured by those reflections. But anything with an even slightly glossy surface has a layer of reflection on top. So if you have a shiny green plant, it can remove the shiny and reveal a very saturated green underneath. Polarizers also remove a lot of scattered and reflected light from the sky. Which reveals a deep blue color you didn't even know was there.

Here is a photo I took of my circular polarizer.

And the first thing I noticed when walking outside during the eclipse was the color of everything was more saturated, just like in that circle. Apparently, an eclipse significantly reduces polarized light and I got this creepy feeling because I was only ever used to seeing the world like that through the viewfinder of my camera.

The other thing I noticed was my outdoor lights. I leave them on all the time because I never remember to turn them on at night. And usually the sun will render them barely visible during the day. On a very sunny day they almost look like they are off.

But you can clearly see they are shining and even flaring the camera during the eclipse.

Our eyes adjust to lighting changes very well so it was hard to tell how much dimmer things were, but that is a good indication. I took this photo a few minutes ago and you can see how dim the lights appear after the moon has fucked off.

I did a calculation using the exposure settings between these two photos. The non-eclipse photo has 7 f-stops more light. That is 128 times or 12,700% more light.

A partial Pringle eclipse cut the sun's light by 99.2% and somehow our eyes adjusted to make it seem like a normal sunny day (with weird ass saturated colors).

[panstarry]

heads up: this games charity bundle was finally approved on itch.io! it opens this friday, april 12th, and will run for a week. all proceeds will go to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund.

you can check out the bundle on itch.io and follow @vgforpalestine on twitter for more updates!

—

EDIT: as of april 20th, 2024 this bundle is now live!!

[cassandragemini]

19th DC Gay Pride Day Festival, Washington DC, June 5th, 1994, by Elvert Barnes Photography

[augory]

I’ve been skimming John Francis Daley’s (director on D&D: Honor Among Thieves) twitter and I continue to be so completely blown away by the movie’s commitment to practical effects and/or minimized CGI where feasible. I mean holy shit look at all this

[stargirl230]

thanks for the light

I was just trying to figure out how procreate works but then the op brainworms got to me and 35 hours later here we are! can you tell I miss home-cooked meals :')

(no reposts; reblogs appreciated)

[aphel1on]

i have such a love for characters who descend into madness or villainy out of deep, deep empathy. characters who fundamentally cannot cope with the cruel realities they find themselves in and blow up about it in spectacular fashion. fallen angel type characters with tears of outrage in their eyes. characters who break before they bend, and break so badly they splatter blood all over their noble ideals. every variation on it gets me so good

[wrenderart]

I made this a couple of months ago but. hack your 3ds. do it right now.

[the-vegetarian-artist]

the PJO fandom working their butts off to find two italian babies in the background only to realize the Easter egg is Nico calling for Bianca around the 12:3 mark.

[rixareth]

As requested, I have examined my fondness for terrible characters, and I have concluded that I like them because they're terrible and I'm not sorry.

[pbnmj]

also by the way i am always obsessed with how spider-people just click and can work together without anything being said in spiderverse . mcu spiderman being like "omg ive never worked in a team” “how are we going to work together” “well im on a team so i’ll lead us" like that was the most boring way to do it . spiderverse instead saying "we just know how to work together because our histories and lives are so linked, its like knowing someone your whole life. seeing the self in the other. our lives rhyme.” LIKE I LOVE YOU GUYS

[thekaiserroll]

Hug

It's nearly impossible to have a quiet and peaceful day with the crew, like the strawhats. Nami is mostly used to the noise on Going Merry but one day she gets fed up with Zoro and Sanji arguing. Not only are they extremely loud, but they've also already broken way too many things during their fights.

She decides that If they want to act like brats, then she's going to treat them as such. So she makes them apologize and hug each other in silence for an hour. None of them are happy about this punishment, but Nami threatened to raise Zoro's debt, and Sanji couldn't say no to her. It could be worse.

It's awkward enough for them to not incite any fight for a long time and Nami is quite proud of herself. She knows it won't last forever but at least now she knows how to handle them. It inevitably happens again. And again. And again.

Much to her surprise, those fights became more and more frequent. And what's even weirder is that she could see the way both Zoro and Sanji occasionally glanced at her to make sure she was nearby. It's almost as if they wanted someone to make them hug each other. As if they needed an excuse.... these idiots.

Soon, they don't even need Nami's help. When they aren't busy training, cooking or fighting, they cuddle together. Sometimes Luffy or Chopper would join them, but most of the crew knew it was their time.

After two years spent separately, they became extremely clingy. It's no surprise when they start sleeping in the same bed. What is surprising is that despite them behaving like a lovey-dovey couple, those oblivious idiots are STILL unaware of each other's feelings.