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mintymiknow · 4 years

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[5:30]

This drabble is part of the 50 Kisses Drabble Challenge! [ Requested: Number 15 + 21 + Chan ]

Number 15: A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick

Number 21: A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company

A/N: I’m not exactly and completely back, but I wrote this to de-stress from all the assignments that are overwhelming me right now :) It’s more of a very self-indulgent Chan piece because I am whipped for the man. It’s a bit sloppy and messy as I haven’t written in so long, but I enjoyed putting these into writing to relieve stress. Also, it might be suggestive for some, so I’m putting this out here to warn just in case! Enjoy!

This year had been a good one for your group, and it certainly has been for your fellow labelmates. The other artists under JYP Entertainment also had several accomplishments and achieved goals throughout the year, but there were still some unfinished tasks.

The other artists were busy with comebacks and promotions, but your group and Stray Kids met at the company building’s practice room to polish certain things. The idea came from one of the managers of the company, suggesting that Stray Kids and your group should have a collaboration stage for an upcoming award show. Everyone thought it was a good idea as the dynamics and chemistry between the groups was pretty good.

And there was the fact that you, your group’s leader, and Bang Chan, Stray Kids’ leader, were dating.

No one knew. The public didn’t know. Only your respective members, managers, and a handful of people at the company knew, but that was it. The relationship was a secret, as usual, and despite being in the same company, you and Chan rarely got to spend time with each other due to schedules.

Perhaps this collab stage would be a means for the two of you to bond even more.

Minho, Hyunjin and your group’s main dancer were busy discussing how a certain portion of the choreography should go. The other members were either exhausted and sprawled on the floor, or sitting on the leather couch to cool themselves while eating ice cream.

You were next to Chan on the leather couch, legs cutely tucked to your chest as you leaned on his shoulder. Chan was showing you various videos to get inspiration from, and the exchange of ideas was just a natural thing between the two of you. You’d joke around from time to time, laughing and playfully swatting each other from time to time.

“Chan,” you point at his phone, “let’s play with the Snow filters.”

Chan laughs,‌ “Did Minho influence you to start using his cute filters as well?”

“They are cute.” you say in a matter-of-fact tone.

With a light chuckle, Chan opens the app, handing the phone over to you so you can browse through the various filters and effects. You take a few random shots of yourself with various animal ears and little doodles on your face. Afterwards, you select a wacky and weird one and tell Chan to join you.

The finished product prompts the two of you to burst in laughter, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Please don’t ever show me that filter ever again!” Chan says in between giggles.

You mimic his actions, clutching your stomach from laughing too much, “Ok, but you have to admit it was really funny.”

Once you both have calmed down from the giggly fits, the main dancers call everyone’s attention and explain how the formations and choreo was going to work. Minutes turned into a few hours, and eventually, both your groups got the basic gist of everything.

Later on, you and Chan sat on the couch, monitoring the routine from where you sat. When you were both satisfied, you called for another break. Some members went out to buy drinks at Soul Cup while others opted to take a quick nap to energize. You, Chan, Changbin, Felix, and your group’s main rapper were seated on the floor, discussing random things like possible costumes, styling, and makeup for this stage.

“I’d pay with my whole bank account to see the stylists put shiny red lip gloss on Lix.” your rapper points out with a grin.

Felix laughs, shrugging cutely, “I don’t think that actually sounds bad. It sounds great, actually!”

Changbin smirks, turning to face you, “What do you want the stylists to do with Chan?”

“Please don’t say rip my shirt or something like that.” Chan laughs, shaking his head.

You laugh with him, humming for a few seconds as you rummage through your brain archives. You have thought of particular stylings you wanted to see on your boyfriend. “I’m not too sure. Chan pulls everything off, but I guess I want to see him wear stuff inspired by the whole vampire concept or the like.” you muse.

“Vamp Chan!” Felix jokes before proceeding to make an impersonation of Dracula.

Your rapper laughs, nodding enthusiastically, “That would really suit Chan, honestly. He has the looks and vibe for it.”

“Then we should tell Minho to add a part in the choreo where Chan bites y/n’s neck or something.” Changbin wiggles his eyebrows, the colors in his eyes displaying a cheeky nature.

You playfully swat his leg, “Hey, the performance isn’t supposed to be kinky!”

“Who says?” Chan plays along, copying the way Changbin wiggled his eyebrows.

“I actually think it would add a nice touch!” your rapper notes, her eyes serious, “Think about it. The song you and Chan made has a very dark and sexy vibe, and the choreo our dancers came up with is very sultry and pretty cinematic. It would make a beautiful touch!”

Felix nods, “It could be included in the ending. Like as the whole song and routine ends, Chan comes up from behind and proceeds to ‘bite’ y/n, and then the lights go out so it’s up to the audiences’ interpretation.”

“Mysterious, sexy, and intriguing.” Chan pouts his lips, nodding slowly, “It’s really artistic, and I don’t think it sounds bad. What do you think, y/n?”

You hum, the thought of doing such an action with your boyfriend buzzing your nerves with excitement. Surely, intimacy was something you and Chan weren’t foreign to as you both have done things in private, but to do something that “sensual” on a stage for millions to see, you were a bit embarrassed. Willing but embarrassed.

In the end, you gave in to the thought. The others were right; it would be a nice touch to the performance, and since you were most comfortable with Chan, there shouldn’t be any problems. You nodded and offered a small smile, “Yeah, sure. I think it’s going to be great.”

Once the practice resumes, you and Chan bring the dancers aside to share the idea with them. Amused, they immediately agree and change the routine just a little to accommodate the additional idea.

With the new addition sorted out, your groups run through the whole routine a few more times. During the final run-through, you deliver your final line as the members slowly and gracefully fall to the ground. You end your line by standing in the middle of the formation, bringing your arms out as if longing to reach for someone. Chan then creeps up behind, wrapping his arms around you seductively, head leaning in and burying his face by the crook of your neck.

You both remain in that position for a few seconds until Minho says it’s done. A bunch of yay’s and claps ring through the room, and for some reason, you feel your cheeks heating up with a pink tint. Chan keeps his arms around you, gently swaying your bodies. “How was it?” the leader asks.

Minho smirks, giving a thumbs up, “You guys were right. It added some spice to the whole thing. I like it.”

Hyunjin nods, his plump lips curling into a giddy smile, “I know it’s ‘cause you’re both dating, but you and y/n make a really great pair. The chemistry is off the charts!”

You giggle shyly, biting your lip at the dancer’s words. Chan smirks proudly, craning his head so he can lean in and place a chaste kiss onto your lips. A few of the members whistle and hoot, causing you to shyly smile against your boyfriend’s lips. You peck him once more before pulling away to smile at him, “You’re really going to do this in front of the kids?”

Chan looks at you innocently, “Do what?”

You playfully scoff, squirming away from his arms. You miss the feel of his skin on yours, so you end up just holding his hand. “The routine is perfect, but I think Chan and I should do some final check up on the song itself. See if it needs to be tweaked.”

“Hmm, that’s true.” Jisung nods.

“Do you and Changbin want to work with us, or will you take it easy?” you ask with a smile.

Changbin shakes his head, “It’s fine! You and Chan can do it. I have to go to the gym in a while anyway.”

Chan nods, squeezing your hand, “Alright, we’ll go now.”

With that, you and Chan exit the practice room and head for this studio. Once you’re both out of reach, Minho turns to everyone else, “Pretty sure they aren’t going to work on the song.”

“Please.” your rapper laughs with a naughty smirk, “The song is perfect already. They’re working on something else.”

“Please stop.” Jeongin and Seungmin pretend to gag, laughing afterwards.

Meanwhile, you and Chan go inside his studio, shutting the door. You sit on one of the black couches there, tilting your head, “What if we make the song sound more intense?‌ Like, the beat itself. The lyrics and flow are perfect already.”

“Hmmm,” Chan hums, spinning around on his chair, “I think it’s perfect as it is, honestly. You added the final touches yesterday, and I think that sealed it.”

“Really?” you muse, biting your lip, “You’re the better producer, so I’ll trust you on that.”

Chan shakes his head, smiling cutely, “You’re just as good, y/n. The girls are lucky to have you as their leader.”

“And Stray Kids is lucky to have you.” you chuckle, playfully giving him finger-hearts.

Chan playfully wiggles his eyebrows, giving you a funny face, “Do you want to hear me say something cheesy?”

“Don’t you always say stuff like that?” you joke, “But go ahead. I’d like to hear this.”

Chan tries his best to look seductive, but he ends up cracking up in laughter. With a goofier grin, he says, “I’m lucky to have you.”

You know he’s joking around and being his playful self, but you take the words to heart and feel like a melting pool of fluff. With a gentle smile, you stand up and walk over to him, situating yourself between his legs. Your hands go up to rest on his shoulders, eyes warmly staring at the male, “I’d say the same thing, but we’re just going to argue over who’s the luckier one.”

Chan laughs airily, hands gently perched on your waist, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

With that, one of Chan’s hands travel up your back, resting at your nape to bring your faces closer to each other. He captures your lips with is own, kissing you much deeper than back at the practice room. His soft and plump lips feel glorious on your own, moving with a fluidity and fire that has your knees going week. You end up straddling your boyfriend, moving your arms to coil around his neck.

Chan’s hands return to your waist, gently squeezing the area as he elicits a sigh from you. His kisses grow hungrier by the second, tongues mingling in a sultry dance as neither of you pull back to breathe. Your fingers begin to gingerly rake through his messy blond hair, tugging at the curls each time his tongue brushes against yours.

One particular tug has him biting your lip, which in turn causes you to release another sigh. Chan realizes what he had just done, afraid that he may have gone too far and hurt your lip. He pulls away slightly, your lips still ghosting above each other’s as his tongue darts out to soothingly lick the bitten area.

But then his kisses traverse lower, ending up on the slope of your neck. His supple lips send shivers down your spine and buzz every inch of your nerves as he gingerly presses his kisses. The way you’re stroking his hair encourages him as he begins to lightly nibble and suckle on the exposed skin there. You can’t help but smile and giggle softly at how it tickles.

The male drags his lips up to your jaw, peppering it with more kisses until he returns to your lips. With one more chaste kiss to your red, swollen lips, you both pull away completely. You giggle, playing with the hairs on Chan’s nape, “You’re really taking your vampire role seriously, Bang Chan.”

“Am not.” he laughs, pecking your lips once more, “I just really love you.”

You giggle giddily, pressing your forehead against his, “And I just really love you too.”

#stray kids #chan #bang chan #chan scenario #chan imagine #bang chan scenario #bang chan imagine #stray kids scenario #stray kids imagine #skz #skz scenario #skz imagine #skz chan #chan x reader #bang chan x reader

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years

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A Taste of Rebellion

Prompt #68 (submitted by @oakfarmer12): Dark Coffee Shop AU- Capitol Peeta runs a coffee/pastry shop in the poshest part of the Capitol nearby President Snow’s mansion. Capitol Katniss is a frequent customer. Things in the Capitol begin to deteriorate as the rebellion drags on. Are they sympathetic to the rebel cause?

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the characters, and I do all my own editing. Thanks to oakfarmer12 for the amazing idea! I don’t know if this will be what you had in mind or live up to any expectations you had, but I hope you enjoy it as well as everyone else who reads!

If Katniss is a little OOC, it’s probably due to her altered situation, living in the Capitol. She’s still a bit hardened, but not as much maybe.

Special Thanks to evestedic and eiramrelyat for their feedback! And of course, thanks to oakfarmer12 for the awesome prompt! I’ve really enjoyed writing it!

Written By: @acpoe82 (JHsgf82 on A03 and fanfiction.net) Prompt By: oakfarmer12 Rated: T (possible rating change in later parts)

Prologue:

It all started with a spark as most great revolutions do. And that spark, Katniss Everdeen is sorry to say, she has inadvertently kindled. Without realizing or choosing, she’s joined a fight‒and she is fairly certain she’s on the wrong side…

Another unexpected complication of this whole mess is a man‒a man who couldn’t be more unlike her, nevertheless, one she’s fallen irrevocably in love with. He is the man she now feels tied to, whether she wants to be or not. She’s sure there’s no getting rid of him‒he’ll probably follow her to the ends of the earth for the strength of what binds them, but the problem is, she wants to stay right where she was. He is the one who wants to leave, and he’s insisting she go with him…

And this turn of events, which has spiraled so far out of her control, is all due to a chance meeting in a coffee shop with a blond stranger on Katniss’s worst of days.

Part I

It’s a fluke that Katniss first ends up at Capitol Coffee, or, to use its full name, Mellark & Sons Capitol Coffee. Then again, perhaps, it was predetermined. She might think so if she believed in fate or anything mystical like that, and she’s not sure that she does. All she knows is that it’s no accident she goes inside. It’s the dandelion that draws her in…

The significance of the dandelion for Katniss goes back a number of years. Dandelions remind her so much of her father because they used to pick them together in the woods. They’d add them to salads or munch on them for a snack. She even brought a large bouquet of them home to her sister, Primrose, one day, and the look on her face was priceless. Their mother, who was a nurse, pointed out the medicinal uses for them and proceeded to snatch a few, for medical purposes, she said, even though they had plenty of top-quality Capitol medical supplies on hand. And Katniss gave the rest to Prim. Prim went nuts over them. Grinning from ear to ear, she proceeded to place them everywhere, in vases all around the house, in her hair, in Katniss’s hair… Prim always could appreciate the simpler things in life; proof-positive, she’d take a plain weed over the most elegant and expensive floral arrangement any day.

Memories such as this one have been rising up all day like bile. Katniss supposes it’s because today is an anniversary, and not a pleasant one. This particular anniversary is one she would love to forget but knows will be burned into her brain until the day she dies…

Katniss has been standing outside the coffee shop for who knows how long considering going in for a drink when she glimpses the freestanding chalkboard on the sidewalk announcing the specials. The drinks and pastries are written in the fanciest, most beautiful handwriting she’s ever seen, but it’s the drawings that really catch her eye: A loaf of bread, a bird, a sunset in various hues of colorful chalk, and a dandelion. Her stormy eyes fix on the bright yellow weed-herb. It’s the most intricate representation of a dandelion she’s ever seen outside of a formal plant book. It’s as if the thing has sprung from the board and come to life. Whoever this person is who draws on the specials board has an artful hand and has truly missed their calling. Then again, maybe he or she only knows how to doodle.

Despite being a Capitol citizen from an esteemed family, Katniss doesn’t frequent Capitol hotspots. A simple girl at heart, she prefers nature to high-end boutiques, her father’s old hunting jacket and a simple bird necklace to furs and strings of jewels, a home-cooked meal to Haute cuisine, and the company of herself or a few close family members to lavish social gatherings. In fact, Katniss has always felt kind of like an outsider here in the Capitol, never truly believing she belongs in the lap of luxury. It’s just one of those things, she supposes, as if she was born in the wrong place, in the wrong century, even.

But that’s nonsense, and Katniss is practical. She knows it’s senseless to imagine things differently than they are, even though there is one particular thing she really wishes was different. Even so, it’s best she accepts the way things are. There’s no use complaining about what you do or don’t have, especially when you have much. And she does.

Katniss and her family have never wanted for anything; they have everything they could need or want, and even more since that fateful day, that is, save for one thing. But what-if thinking is as useless as gazing off into the distance, pretending you’re elsewhere, which consequently, she often does…

Katniss’s favorite place to be is the woods, the one place she feels utterly at peace and closest to him. Even her room is one giant simulation of a forest, and she’s been known to spend hours gazing at the walls, just staring at the greens and browns until they all blended together and she could practically hear the songs of the birds, the chatter of the small creatures, and the trickling of a nearby stream, until she’s been transported there fully in her mind.

But it’s not all from imagination. Katniss has actually visited the woods in reality many times, and she’d wanted to do so today, but with the Hunger Games impending, it would have been next to impossible…

***

If she could have, Katniss would have traveled north, across the border and into the lush forests of District 7 where her father used to take her as a child. There are an abundance of trees and animals there, and they would take their homemade bows and go hunting. It wasn’t that they needed food‒they had plenty‒they hunted for the sport of it. But that wasn’t to say they wasted the meat. Her father never believed in being wasteful, so everything they killed was either eaten or used in some way‒to make a pouch, a knife sheath, a utensil, even a purse for her mother or little sister. Her father said he got the idea from native peoples who long ago lived on this land and used every part of an animal.

As far as archery went, Katniss had enjoyed learning. It quickly became her favorite activity, and she got really good at it. Her father always insisted she never show her skill, though, even if it was being practiced in school. When she’d asked why, he told her: “You never know when a certain skill may come in handy, Katniss, and you might not want others knowing just how good you are at it.”

At the time, she didn’t understand. Didn’t most people want others to know when they were good at something? For the bragging rights. Well, not her, perhaps. She always preferred keeping a low profile, never craving the attention of others, save for her father. Having his praise was enough.

Alongside her father, Katniss had learned the thrill of the hunt, and with that, she’d discovered how much she enjoyed the taste of wild game. Somehow, it tasted even better than the delicacies of the Capitol, that is, all except for lamb stew, her favorite dish. Unfortunately, she’d never seen any lamb roaming about, so killing one and cooking it into a stew to see if it tasted different was out of the question. The Capitol must get them from somewhere, though.

Lamb stew aside, the meat Katniss and her father came home with tasted the best. Perhaps it was the natural flavor on her tongue, the lack of processing and additives, but she suspected it had more to do with the satisfaction of knowing she’d brought it home herself, through her own skill. She’d tracked and felled the beast, always doing her best to ensure a quick, clean kill, usually straight through the eye and into the brain or piercing a vital organ so as not to let the animal suffer as her father had taught her. She couldn’t explain it, but somehow, a meal she’d had to work for gave her far greater pleasure, each bite being synonymous with triumph.

Those were the happiest times of her life…

*** How Katniss wishes her father were here with her today. If he were, he’d be off work, so she’d ask him to take her to their favorite place. They’d leave just before sun-up when the world is dark and still, and most of the Capitolites, including her mother and sister, are sound asleep. They’d stealthily sneak out of the city and into the woods of District 7, but not because anyone would stop them‒at most, one of the Peacekeepers guarding the border might raise a brow or perhaps ask for identification, for what Capitol citizen would want to leave and go to the districts? But, no, they’d do it for the excitement of it all. For Katniss and her father, there was always something alluring about remaining invisible.

But there’s no use wishing or thinking about him at length, because he’s gone. Gone forever.

Katniss misses her father terribly; it’s an ever-present ache, but it’s especially difficult today, on the 10-year anniversary. Yes, it was exactly ten years ago to the day that her father was killed…

*** He had a fancy job in the Nut, the principal military facility supplying the Capitol. It was a rather long commute to District 2 by train, which resulted in him getting home later than her mother liked, but the job was good, so it made it worthwhile. He’d worked there ever since Katniss was a small child, and that’s where it happened…

Her father’s death was called a freak accident, but Katniss knew better. She knew that was just a cover-up. The excuse was far too flimsy; there were too many blanks left unfilled by the official who came to inform and compensate her family for their tremendous loss. And besides, she knew her father. He was beyond cautious in all he did, and he’d told her about how things worked in the Nut, secret things, even‒and those kinds of ‘accidents’ didn’t just happen.

No, it was the rebels; it had to be. Although nothing was ever confirmed or televised about it, there was speculation. And Katniss, for one, was certain. She knew it was those filthy, treacherous rebels who were responsible for taking her father away from her.

Everyone in the Capitol knew of the rebels. They’d been taught from a young age about the rebellion and the Treaty of Treason, about the ungratefulness of the district people and the despicable lengths to which they would go. They just couldn’t accept the class distinction or their lot in life, and they just had to come after those who had more than them.

One would think they’d have learned their lesson after the Dark Days. Wasn’t the annihilation of an entire district and the penalty of the Hunger Games enough for them to stay in line and live peacefully? Although, in Katniss’s mind, they’d gotten off easy, especially considering the generosity shown by the Capitol in allowing for a Victor each year, even more so in bestowing riches and food upon said Victor and his or her district. The Hunger Games were a punishment but also a gift of hope, and the districts should be grateful.

But there will always be those who desire more…

In the Capitol, they’d been told the rebels were no longer a threat, but Katniss could argue with that. Even if the alleged attack on the Nut was a feeble attempt at best, it had taken her father from her, and thus, she would forever despise the rebels. Not that her hatred could do a damn thing to bring her father back.

Their selfishness infuriated Katniss, honestly. Didn’t they think she knew about hard times and loss, too? Case in point, she’d been only 13, and her sister only 9, when they lost their father.

Losing a father at such a pivotal age was hard enough when not combined with having a mother who checked out afterward. When their father died, their mother went into a deep depression. She stopped working as a nurse in a Capitol hospital; she could hardly get out of bed and barely spoke, and she basically ignored her two daughters. They, fortunately, had plenty of money coming in from their father’s settlement, so putting food in their mouths wasn’t an issue; although, for a time, Katniss had to practically force-feed her mother. And with a mother who was basically useless, it fell to Katniss to buy and prepare the food, take care of their home, and raise Prim.

Prim helped her out as best she could, but for a barely teenaged girl just hitting puberty to be responsible for an entire family was absurd and unfair. In Katniss’s mind, there was no excuse for the way her mother reacted, and henceforth, she vowed never to ‘fall in love.’ It was ridiculous, after all, to feel so strongly for someone as to become a shell of the person you once were and neglect everything and everyone around you when they’re gone. Katniss refused to take a chance on becoming such a pitiful mess should something happen to her hypothetical lover. Thus, the teen years were somewhat lost on her. She didn’t really have many normal experiences that teens have, least of all those related to guys.

*** Katniss refocuses on the specials board outside Capitol Coffee. Now that she’s seen the dandelion, it’s decided‒she will go inside. She doesn’t care so much about meeting the artist, but it’s like a sign, or would be, if she believed in signs. Today is different, though; today she does… So, she quells lingering thoughts of sorrow and revenge, hardens her expression, and pushes through the door to the coffee shop. A little bell tinkles announcing her arrival.

Katniss immediately takes a look around. The coffee shop isn’t very large, but it has plenty of seating in the form of round, mahogany tables and chairs. There’s also a lounge area with plush armchairs and a sectional couch. The space is softly lit by pendant lights, and Katniss is transfixed for a moment because she swears the hanging lights almost look like dandelions in their white, puffy stage when they’re ready to spread their seeds. The decor is sparse, mostly paintings of settings and people. It’s eclectic, yet simple. Katniss isn’t sure how to describe it, but if she had to sum up with one word, she’d call it…homey. There’s almost a small-town atmosphere to it, and in a way, it reminds her of a den, an escape from the outside world. If she can’t be in the woods today, she supposes this is an acceptable alternative.

The people are scattered throughout the seating area and at the bar in the back, all dressed to the nines as most citizens of the Capitol do. Her fellow Capitolites keep well-caffeinated as a general rule, so coffee shops are popular, but it’s not exactly peak coffee hour. And right now, most people will be working important high-profile jobs, shopping, or indulging in whatever frivolous activity best suits them.

Katniss thoroughly surveys her surroundings as she’s been taught to do. “Always be aware of your surroundings,” her father used to say. He taught her to not only use her eyes but all of her senses, including a more elusive kind, a sixth sense. He said she had it, and he assured her that, although he hoped she’d never experience it, she’d know if she was ever in danger. He said she’d just feel it in her gut.

Katniss has never experienced real danger, and she certainly shouldn’t have anything to fear in a posh Capitol coffee shop not far from President Snow’s mansion, but she always takes precautions‒it was a lesson that stuck with her. The most she’s ever had to worry about was being ogled by strangers while walking the streets of the Capitol. This has happened several times, but there’s one particular time she recalls vividly…

*** It was a few years back. Katniss was heading to the store when she passed a man on the street, and she caught him watching her. Although she pretended to ignore it, she definitely didn’t like the look he had. His eyes seemed to burn into her like fire as he looked her up and down, undoubtedly appraising her body. Said man was an older man, probably in his forties, at least twenty years older than her or more.

She felt that sense of danger her father spoke of then; it was like the dread she imagined prey feels when it’s being stalked. But she wouldn’t give him the opportunity to pursue her. He did begin to follow, so she put the hood of her cloak up and headed away from the store and into a larger crowd, hoping to lose the creep. That’s when he called out to her.

“Hey, it’s me!” he shouted, pretending to know her. And then he suggested they go for a drink and catch up.

Of course, Katniss had never seen the man before in her life, and if he really knew her, he’d use her name. At that moment, she wished she’d brought her bow. Although she couldn’t just murder a man in the street, or even injure him, for the Peacekeepers would be on her instantly, she could at least scare him. And it would bring her a sense of peace to have her weapon. Of course, that wouldn’t bode well for her, either. Weapons weren’t allowed on the streets, only by Peacekeepers, but even if they were alone in some alley and she had her bow, she still didn’t think she could take a shot at him, as much as she might want to. It wasn’t like shooting an animal.

Fortunately, she was able to lose the man in the crowd, but it had frightened her. From then on, she always wore her hood up when she went out in public. And it worked out for the best, especially considering she didn’t enjoy idle conversation with random strangers.

*** Thinking back on it, Katniss secures her hood tighter around her face and makes her way to the long bar in the back, where she assumes they serve the drinks. There’s no stupid illuminated sign shouting out the obvious, which she actually finds refreshing. Instead, the bar is lit with more of those dandelion lights, smaller ones. Along the way, she passes a woman dressed in layers of multicolored furs and wearing a giant hat made of peacock feathers.

Katniss doesn’t buy into the latest Capitol fashions, especially not the color-changing skin. She doesn’t wear alluring or tight-fitting clothing, either‒she doesn’t have the breasts for it but wouldn’t even if she did‒so it’s strange that the man on the street took notice of her, let alone leered and so boldly pursued her. Today, Katniss is dressed as she usually is, in a long, asymmetrical tunic with chiffon edges, leggings, and boots. The tunic is green, as is a large portion of her clothing, and the leggings and boots are black. She wears a velvet cloak over her clothing, also green, which she usually keeps the hood of up‒to discourage people from talking to her.

In spite of that, the woman in fur and feathers glances up at her and smiles, probably out of politeness. Katniss merely gives a curt nod as her eyes quickly dart away, for even that was more social interaction than she typically likes. And today, of all days, she wants to be left alone; she just wants to have a drink and go.

She finds a seat at the end of the bar and slides onto the stool. Not long after, a man steps out of a back room and approaches the bar.

He’s approximately her age, dressed in a plain white, slightly snug t-shirt, and he has a white apron tied around his waist. He’s medium height, stocky build, and his hair is ashy-blond and falls in waves over his forehead. When he sees her, he stops dead in his tracks and does a double-take.

He resumes walking toward her, and she then catches sight of his eyes. Blue. The bluest of blue. So blue they look plucked straight out of the sky. She also notices that his face seems oddly familiar… Maybe it’s just the kind of face one feels like they know, but she’s never experienced such a thing before.

“Hello.” He stands before her now, smelling of cinnamon and dill and giving her the kind of smile she imagines he greets old friends with. “Welcome to…” He stumbles over his words as if he’s forgotten the name of the business he works at‒perhaps he hasn’t worked here long. “Capitol Coffee,” he quickly inserts, his pale cheeks growing rosy.

Katniss eyes him warily, and upon deciding she doesn’t get a bad feeling from him, she removes her hood. Revealed is her dark hair, falling in a double dutch braid down her back. She brushes back the ringlets framing her face, which have partially obscured her vision, and tucks them neatly behind her ears.

The man’s lips part, and he stares.

Katniss is trying to figure out why. She doesn’t think herself beautiful by any means; she’s not fashionable and her features are plain, and she isn’t into makeup. She does, however, wear a sweep of mascara and forest green eyeshadow, which perfectly matches her cloak‒it wasn’t her intention, but green just happens to be her favorite color. Prim had convinced her to try the makeup one time, and she even helped her select some that would complement her gray eyes and olive skin tone. And she ended up liking it, so she kept it up.

The man continues to stare.

His intense, focused gaze should unnerve her, but it only makes her curious. Maybe it’s because the delicate blue of his eyes is serene, or maybe it’s because he’s not looking at her in a lascivious manner. Or, maybe…maybe it’s because he’s nice to look at.

As for her looks, they’re wholly unimpressive, even though it’s not the first time she’s gotten such a reaction from a guy.

Katniss doesn’t like feeling on display, at all, but this man isn’t looking at her hungrily as other Capitolite men have, such as the one who chased her through the streets. Rather, he’s gazing upon her almost…reverently. There is more appreciation than desire in his eyes as if he’s looking at a piece of art in a museum. That thought makes her even more uncomfortable than if he were ogling her…

The man is still staring, and it begins to get to her. Her cheeks heat up, and she’s tempted to put her hood back up. She reaches for it, but then he blinks slowly, and she becomes distracted by the longest set of golden eyelashes she’s ever seen. She’s wondering if they’re real when his eyes flit shyly away.

“Sorry, uh…you just look…familiar,” he finally utters, rubbing the back of his neck.

She considers telling him he does, too, but that might come across as flirting, so she says nothing. In fact, neither of them speaks for at least several seconds longer than anyone should remain silent in a normal situation such as this.

The man looks directly at her again, his expression more subdued now. “So, anyway, what can I get for you?” he asks, giving her another friendly smile.

“Well, um, I��don’t know…” Her eyes dart from side to side. She isn’t an alcohol-drinker, though she’s tempted to ask him for something alcoholic, perhaps a drink with just a bit of alcohol added to it. For…comfort. It’s silly to think of drink or food as comforting, but she supposes it can be. This craving must be similar to the way Prim gets about holiday cookies and chocolates; she says they give her a warm feeling. Likewise, their aunt, her mother’s sister, who lives not far from here, is very fond of caviar, and when she eats it, she says she feels like the finest lady in all of the Capitol. Could alcohol bring about that same effect for her? Katniss wonders. But she doesn’t even know enough to know what to ask for, and that would be embarrassing.

The blond barista smiles warmly at her indecision and points to the specials board. “Take all the time you need,” he says genuinely.

Katniss glances up at the board on the wall, and she’s reminded of the chalkboard outside, the one that brought her in. There are more drawings on this board, and they are just as impressive as the ones outside‒Mr. or Ms. Artist has done it again. Her eyes flit across the doodles as she peruses the menu. No alcohol is listed. Perhaps it’s too early for that. But no, she thinks. This is the Capitol, where there’s no shortage of fine food and drink and no one ever needs an excuse for indulging to their heart’s content at any time of day.

But Katniss doesn’t know what to choose. Meanwhile, the barista is leaning his side into the counter, waiting and smiling.

“I, uh, like the drawings,” she stammers, pointing to the board. It’s her best attempt at stalling and breaking the tension, and she’s curious.

His eyes shift upward, then back down to her. “Thank you,” he replies.

She’s confused. Are they his, or is he just taking credit for them?

“They aren’t much, just something I scribbled in my spare time,” he answers her unspoken question.

“You’re the artist?”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d use the term ‘artist,’ but I do enjoy sketching and painting.”

Oh, the modest type…

“I only dabble in it,” he goes on to say, “and my skill level isn’t much, but I guess anyone who produces art can call themselves an artist.” He smooths down his wrinkled apron. “So yeah, I guess I am.”

Just accept the compliment, she demands with her eyes. She doesn’t give them often, after all.

“Well, I don’t know anything about art, but I think they’re good.”

“Why thank you.” He gives her that warm smile again, and this time it does something funny to her stomach. She lowers her eyes and stares at her hands.

And apparently, she’s broken some kind of seal because it doesn’t take long for the blond guy to show his true colors. Most notably, he’s not nearly as shy and awkward as she first thought.

In fact, since those initial awkward moments, he only becomes smoother and more confident in his speech and mannerisms with each passing minute. She can definitely tell he has a way with words and with people. He’s witty and charming, too charming.

Katniss lets him do most of the talking. It’s safer that way.

After a few, mostly one-way, verbal exchanges, he apologizes and asks politely if she’s decided on what she wants.

She hasn’t.

“May I suggest something?” he asks when she hesitates. She nods. “Do you like hot chocolate?”

“I don’t know. Never tried it.”

“You’ve never tried hot chocolate?” he says with an incredulous wrinkle of his brow. He looks so flabbergasted that she might as well have said she eats dog stew and spends her days frolicking through the woods picking berries.

She shakes her head at the ludicrous mental image.

“Well, then, it’s decided. You have to try it. And ours is the best, by the way. I promise you won’t regret it.”

The barista leaves for a few minutes and returns with a large, steaming mug. He places it in front of her, and her nose is immediately ambushed, in a pleasant way, by hot air and the scent of chocolate. It smells peaceful, somehow, like the way the house did that time Prim attempted those homemade chocolates. She tried to shape them like woodland creatures; they looked awful, though Katniss would never say that to her face. But the important thing was, they tasted good.

“Careful now,” the man says. “Blow on it first and test it. Don’t burn your tongue.”

Katniss scowls at him. She’s not a child; she knows how to drink a hot beverage. Regardless, he’s right, and she follows his advice before taking a cautious sip.

And she doesn’t regret it, not one bit. In fact, from the first sip, she knows she’s a goner. No other taste will ever live up to the sweet nectar caressing her tongue and gliding silkily down her throat, she’s absolutely certain. And she’s tasted a lot of fine food and drink. There’s just something about it…hot chocolate…it’s not just the sweetness but the warmth it creates in her belly, unlike any other hot beverage. It tastes like…comfort…home. It’s exactly what she needed today.

“Like it?” He asks.

She nods and eagerly takes another sip. And he’s clearly pleased.

“I can’t believe you’ve never had it.” The guy shakes his head, and his broad shoulders follow suit as he silently chuckles. “Where’ve you been living, under a rock?”

She scoffs. “Well, have you ever had venison?”

His look is part confusion, part disgust, though he tries to mask it. “Like, meat from deer?”

“Yes.”

“Uh, no. Can’t say that I have.”

“Didn’t think so,” she rebukes.

“Am I really missing out?” he teases. Obviously, he doesn’t think that sounds appealing. He’s clearly wondering why a person would eat something like that when, here in the Capitol, they have the finest foods in Panem at their fingertips.

“Yes. You are.”

“Well, bring me some next time,” he says. She’s sure he’s bluffing, but she plans to do it. She wants to wipe that grin off his lips. Or, maybe she’ll bring him a squirrel instead and force him to eat that.

Wait. What is this? Talking openly. Joking. Discussing bringing him meat and force-feeding him squirrel? And dare she say those shyly flirtatious little glances he’s been tossing her way. How has this man gotten her to lower her guard this much already? It makes her a bit uneasy, even though she still gets no sense of alarm from him.

What is alarming, however, is that she thinks she might like him already‒this guy whose name she doesn’t even know.

“Next time?” she questions.

“Yeah. You are going to come back, right? I mean, you liked the drink, so…” There’s a hopeful glint in those deep blue eyes which seem to change color when the light catches them just right.

Katniss presses her lips together. “I might.”

He smiles at her again‒he does that a little too often, but she thinks she likes it. Although she’s not crazy about the initial flip of her stomach, afterward, a nice warmth settles in; it’s almost like sitting by a roaring fire. She fiddles with the handle of her mug, then raises it. Her lips linger on the lip of the cup as she stares out into space for a bit before finally taking another drink.

Katniss continues sipping at her hot chocolate, and it’s nearly gone in a few minutes. She’d planned to take her time savoring it, but it’s just too good for that. After a while, she notices the barista has been watching her with a concerned look on his face.

“You know, nothing says comfort like hot chocolate,” he says. It feels like a leading remark.

Comfort. Yes. But how does he know that’s what she came looking for? He can’t possibly. It must just be something said about this particular drink, or…maybe this man is perceptive.

She’s beginning to change her mind about him, no longer feeling as though he’s completely harmless. In fact, he might be extremely cunning. He looks and acts sweet and innocent‒he’s practically the male equivalent of Prim‒but she suspects he’s trouble. Maybe even dangerous… For one, he’s managed to break down her immediate defenses and get her talking, even joking around with him.

“You know, if you want to talk about something, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

And now he wants to know more… She’s sure this guy is just one of those kind, helpful types, probably full of plenty of unwanted advice, too. But no man, no one, is as pure as he seems…well, maybe Prim. Her alone.

Yet, there’s this seemingly genuine sweetness about him, and that face…those blue eyes, the dimples, the strong, square jaw, which she’s sure could be the undoing of many a woman, though not her. Yes, she’s convinced‒he’s definitely dangerous.

“Why do you assume I want to talk about something?” she asks skeptically.

“Just an instinct,” he replies.

Katniss tightens her lips. “Well, it’s wrong. And…even if I did, why would I tell my troubles to a perfect stranger?”

Something lights in his eyes then, and she can’t quite read his expression. It’s frustrating to not know what he’s thinking.

“But don’t you think sometimes that’s easier?” he finally speaks.

“What?”

“To unburden yourself to someone you don’t know well. They have no…,” he pauses, “connection to you, and you’ll probably never see them again.” After a tick, he adds, “Although, in this case, I hope that’s not true.”

He’s a smooth operator.

She doesn’t justify it with a response.

But maybe he’s right; maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to confide in someone once in a while. She’s so used to being the caregiver and the protector that she’s never thought about someone looking after her needs, be they physical or emotional. She doesn’t even really tell Prim her deepest thoughts.

But no, she knows nothing about this man. He could be trying to lure her into a false sense of security; for what reason, she doesn’t know, but it’s suspicious. She just can’t believe he’s as genuine as he seems.

“If you don’t want to talk, I understand, but I just don’t think there’s anything wrong with confiding in someone,” he persists. “Sometimes it’s best to get what’s bothering you out, so it doesn’t eat away at you.”

Why is he pressing this? Can’t he see she doesn’t want to talk about it? It’s frustrating her almost to the point of tears, and she doesn’t want to do something stupid like cry in front of him.

Abruptly, she stands and pulls up her hood.

“Oh, I’m-I’m sorry.” He holds up his hands in a placating manner. “Wait, please don’t go. We really don’t have to talk, at all. We can just sit here in silence.”

But it’s too late. The damage is done, and she just wants to get out of here as soon as possible.

“How much for the hot chocolate?” she asks curtly, digging into the pockets of her cloak.

“Uh, it’s…no charge,” he mutters.

“What?” Gray eyes lock on blue. “No. I don’t want you to get in trouble with your boss.”

“I won’t,” he says.

She shakes her head. “No, I have money.” After all, she doesn’t know his motivations, and she hates owing people. He tries to argue and makes up some crap about first-time customers being on the house, but the look on her face cuts him off.

He gives in and tells her the price, and she plunks the money down on the counter and walks out. She makes it about halfway to the door, fighting the urge to look back the entire time. She loses the battle and subtly glances back over her shoulder, and he’s watching her walk away.

*** Katniss’s decision to return only two days later is partly out of guilt and partly the desire to see him again‒because, like it or not, he’s been on her mind. She tells herself it’s because she behaved so badly when he was being so nice. Therefore, she needs to make amends. It’s the right thing to do; it’s what her father would tell her to do.

She doubts he’ll be thrilled to see her after she left so rudely in the middle of their conversation. And she understands. How was he to know what she was going through and that she didn’t want to talk about it? He was just trying to be nice.

But the point is moot because when she arrives, he doesn’t seem to be there. Katniss looks around, even cranes her neck, trying to get a peek through the ajar door to the back. No blond guy in sight. Instead, behind the counter is a dark-haired man wearing black clothing and gold eyeshadow, who looks strangely familiar.

“Looking for someone?” The man with the eyeshadow stealthily approaches her.

“No.” She shakes her head, but then hesitates. “Well, actually…last time I was here there was a blond man…”

“Ah, you must be talking about Peeta.”

“Peeta,” she nods, “yes.”

The man observes her, grinning faintly, waiting for her to go on.

Katniss releases a small breath. “Yes, well, Peeta knows how to make this drink I like.”

The man with the gold eyeshadow smiles knowingly. “I’m sorry, he’s not here, miss. But I can take a crack at that drink of yours. I’m sure I can handle it.”

“Oh. Um, yeah okay…” What else is she going to say? Her eyes flit to the doodles on the chalkboard, though she knows precisely what she wants. “Hot chocolate.”

“Ah, I see Peeta won you over.”

“What?”

“That’s his drink of choice, too. He’s always pushing it.”

The strangest thought pops into Katniss’s head then–she wonders how many women Peeta’s flirted with while taking their orders, like she thought he was with her. But maybe that’s just the way he is with everyone. In a way, it irritates her to think she’s one of the many or that he was just trying to sell her stuff. But she shakes it off.

The man with the eyeshadow goes to fetch her drink and returns not long after. He sets it down in front of her, and she taste-tests it. Although it’s very good, there’s something different about the one Peeta made. She doesn’t say so, however, and simply thanks the man. As she sips at her hot chocolate, it comes to her why this man looks so familiar.

“You were a stylist in the Games, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was. But I…,” he hesitates, “retired.”

He seems a bit young to retire, and Katniss isn’t sure she believes him. Whatever the cause, there’s definitely more to it than he’s letting on, but she’s not going to pry.

“I’m Cinna,” the former stylist says.

“Cinna.” That’s right. “Pleased to meet you. You were great in the Games.”

“Thank you. And you are?”

“Katniss Everdeen,” she tells him.

“Everdeen,” Cinna says her name slowly, thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I just think I came across an Everdeen at one point.”

Katniss decides not to think too much about his comment, and instead, she enjoys her drink. She doesn’t stay as long as the last time, even with the abrupt leave, but she decides to go ahead and like Cinna. He’s down-to-earth and friendly, and he lets her be, unlike Peeta. It should be a relief to be served by Cinna rather than Peeta, but it’s not. She still has that gnawing feeling in her gut that she gets whenever she leaves something unfinished…

*** Katniss waits a few days, then goes back again to Capitol Coffee. She takes a seat in her usual spot and removes her hood; she looks around, but she doesn’t see Peeta. Inwardly, she groans. It’s foolish to come here a second time looking for him, probably to no avail, but still, she needs to apologize. She takes another look around and is prepared to leave before anyone sees her and comes over to take her order when she hears a small grunt. It comes from beneath the table. She places her hands on the bar and leans forward to take a look. And that’s when she sees a curly, blond mop poking out from the underside of the counter.

Katniss casually glances over the edge, and the corners of her lip reflexively curl up. Peeta is down there, bent over, fumbling with something, and he seems to really be struggling.

“Need some help?” she asks. And Peeta jumps up, barely missing knocking his head against the bar in the process.

He quickly stands up. This time, he’s dressed in black, stylish yet casual, and his curly hair has a messy bedhead look to it. He glances her direction, and when he locks eyes on her, she swears his face lights up.

Peeta approaches, smiling tentatively, his blue eyes twinkling. “Heyy,” he drawls. “You came back.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, lowering her gaze to her hands. She wonders if Cinna told him she was here before.

“I’m glad.”

Her eyes dart up to his face. “You are?”

“Yeah.” He smiles widely, as if he can’t help it. “I am.”

They have a genuine, real moment before Katniss lowers her gaze, her cheeks warming.

She hates that Peeta has this effect on her every time‒it must be because he’s so free with his flattery and says things that can easily be misconstrued.

It’s then that she notices the weight of her necklace against her chest, but not the bare skin over her sternum as usual; it has popped out of its resting place. She takes the pendant in her hand, tracing the embellished wings of the bird and thinking of her father. The necklace is simple, gifted to her by her father many years ago, just because he loved her, he said. She assumes he chose a bird because it’s part of nature, and he knew she loved that. She stares down at the bird, still unsure which breed it is. She fiddles with it some more, finally tucking it back inside her shirt when she catches Peeta noticing it.

“Look,” she speaks up, deciding to get straight to the point. “I wanted to tell you that…I’m sorry about the way I acted last week,” she rushes the apology out of her mouth.

“Oh.” He blinks a few times, those long, golden eyelashes fluttering like tiny butterflies. “You don’t have to‒”

“No, I do. I was having a bad day. I’m not usually like that,” she blurts the last part out, though she doesn’t know why. It’s completely untrue. She’s always like that, and Prim would testify to it.

Peeta simply smiles, and Katniss instantly feels all is forgiven. But then again, Peeta is different. He seems not at all the type to hold a grudge, and his face backs it up. His eyes and lips seem to say there was no need for an apology in the first place. But she feels better now.

Now that that’s out of the way, the mood seems to lighten, and Peeta leans against the bar, smiling, of course. “So, what’ll it be, sweetheart?“

Sweetheart? She scowls at him, and he lets out a throaty chuckle.

“I take it you don’t like that.”

She keeps the scowl plastered on for confirmation.

“I’m sorry. I only call you that because you never said your name. You can’t expect me to just know it, can you?” He grins.

“You never asked, and you didn’t say yours, either,” she retorts, even though she’s already learned his name from Cinna.

“That’s true. Fair enough; I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“That’s okay,” Katniss says obstinately.

He does something unexpected then. He folds his arms and stares her down, his countenance determined. He’s going to make this difficult, of course.

“Shall I guess, then?” he finally says.

Katniss rolls her eyes. Even though it might be entertaining to have him try and guess her name, she’s not interested in games. She shakes her head. “No.” She pauses a moment before mumbling, “It’s Katniss. Katniss Everdeen.”

“Katniss Everdeen.” His blue eyes shoot skyward, and he strokes his dimpled chin. “I like it. It’s unique.” He looks back at her. “Do you want to know mine?”

“Not necessary,” she tersely replies. And she can’t tell whether the hurt in his expression is real or not. “And I’ll have hot chocolate, I guess.”

He recovers quickly. “Can’t get enough, eh? Had to come back for more.” He gives her a little wink, and she wants to pull up her hood and hide in it.

What happened to the shy guy she first met? Was that all an act?

Peeta seems to take the hint and tells her he’ll go and make her drink. He leaves for several minutes but returns empty-handed.

Seconds later, a tall, beautiful woman comes up behind him. Her hair is thick, platinum blonde, and crimped, undoubtedly a wig; she’s wearing black lipstick, pinkish-purple eyeshadow, a frilly minidress, black, translucent stockings and black high heels. Katniss is baffled by how she can walk in those things all day.

“Here you go, Peeta. You forgot this,” the woman says sweetly, handing him the steaming mug.

Peeta’s pale cheeks flush lightly. “Well, that’s embarrassing,” he says. A small smile graces Katniss’s lips. “Thanks, Portia.”

Portia? That’s right. She was also a stylist in the Games, like Cinna; in fact, she was his partner, Katniss recalls. She’d thought she looked familiar when she came out.

So, she works here, too. Had Cinna convinced Portia to go along with him when he left? And why? Why would a person give up a good job like Stylist in the Games? Maybe Cinna was lying and they were both fired, although that seems unlikely, considering they were the best ones. Their Tributes were always the best-dressed, at least in Katniss’s opinion.

“Sure thing, boss.” Portia winks at Peeta.

Boss?

When Portia’s gone and Katniss turns back to Peeta he has this look on his face like a child who’s just had his favorite toy taken away. It’s probably because Peeta thinks Portia ruined his fun by saying his name.

“So, it’s Peeta, huh?” Katniss says with mild interest, deciding to throw him a bone and play as if it’s the first time his name has been revealed.

“Yeah. Peeta Mellark.” He places the mug in front of her and comes a bit closer, extending his hand‒he smells even more strongly of spices today. Tentatively, Katniss accepts it, and he wraps his large hand around hers.

His hand is warm and a bit rough, but it’s not exactly unpleasant when his fingertips graze her wrist. As for his shake, it’s gentle but firm; he even adds an extra squeeze near the end. It lasts about 3 to 5 seconds, and oddly, Katniss is sorry to see Peeta let go.

After they’ve retracted their hands, Peeta steps back and motions for her to drink. She nods and takes hold of the thin handle, bringing it to her lips. At the last second, she remembers to test it and blows on it a few times.

“Mm” escapes her lips upon finishing her first cautious sip. She’s already missed this flavor.

“Good?” He raises a brow hopefully.

“Uh, yeah. Really good.” Katniss’s nose wrinkles up. And different. It’s not the same as the last time he made it.

“I added a little something to it,” Peeta says, noting her appraisal of it.

At that, Katniss’s eyes widen and shoot up to his. “What?”

“Don’t worry, Katniss.” Peeta chuckles. “I didn’t poison it or anything. Just added a little cinnamon.”

“Oh. Cinnamon.” She takes another sip and decides the flavors work well together. Still, he should ask her before he just goes and does something like that.

Partway into her cup, they strike up a conversation, and this time, Katniss joins in more.

“So, you’re the manager here,” she says.

“Owner, actually,” Peeta corrects, but not in an arrogant way.

“Aren’t you a little young to own your own business, Peeta Mellark?”

“Well, I am 25, Katniss Everdeen. “And I don’t do it alone.”

“Oh, yeah. You run this place with your father and brothers, right?” she says, recalling the sign outside; although she’s never seen anyone resembling Peeta working here.

“No,” he says, rather sullenly.

“Oh. Sorry. I saw the sign, so I just assumed.” It seems like she’s pried, so she’s prepared to let it go, but Peeta continues.

“It’s okay. It was supposed to be that way,” he says. “You see, my father…he died a few years back, just as we were preparing to open the coffee shop. He…got sick, and would you believe it, all the best medicines in the Capitol couldn’t do a thing for him.”

“Peeta…I’m so sorry.” She can relate, of course. She had no idea Peeta lost his father, too, and only someone who’s experienced that can truly understand.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I wanted to open the place anyway, in honor of my father. I was encouraged to name it something related to the Capitol, especially being so close to Snow’s mansion as it is. I know Capitol Coffee isn’t very original, but they were satisfied with that. I had the Capitol logo engraved on the sign, and they let me keep the Mellark & Sons sign up, too.”

Katniss puts on a faint smile. She wants to say she knows how he feels, but she isn’t quite sure how to get the words out, and she hates when people say that sort of thing, anyway, so she just listens as he continues.

“My brothers were supposed to help me out, and they did for a little while, but then they just stopped. They had lives and families and no time for it. So, I hired some outside help. I, uh, hear you met Cinna the other day.”

So, he knew she came in before…damn him.

“Well, Cinna is my partner in the business.”

Katniss simply nods, but she’s curious as to why Cinna gave up his position as Stylist to come co-run a coffee shop. She’s not normally one for gossip or digging for information about other people’s lives, but it’s just so unheard of. She decides to ask Peeta why Cinna left, but all Peeta gives her is the trademark ‘he wanted to pursue other endeavors.’ Does he not know, or is he keeping something?

Katniss shrugs it off, and they fall into a more casual conversation. She feels more at ease talking to him now, especially after his confession about losing his father. It’s a horrible thing to be connected over, but she does feel more connected to him now. Still, she doesn’t give him any information about her family, only tells him about her mangy furball of a cat (it’s actually Prim’s cat, but she’s certainly not going to mention Prim to a total stranger). After that, they stay on safe topics like the weather, food and drink, and hobbies. She finds out he does, indeed, enjoy hot chocolate, but he also likes tea. He takes it without sugar. And he’s a painter.

When she reveals that she hunts, Peeta guffaws and says, “So, that explains the venison.” The corner of her lip tilts. “Which, I’m still waiting for, by the way,” he teases.

Just for that, Peeta Mellark, you’re getting TWO big fat squirrels! She vehemently thinks at him. She plots tossing a rabbit in, too. She’ll fix the meat up real nice for him and only tell him what it is after he puts it in his mouth and chews it up some.

This makes her smile and puts her at ease, but she doesn’t reveal, this time, about her father.

***

Katniss continues to return to the coffee shop almost daily over the course of the next two weeks. She almost always has the hot chocolate, but occasionally she orders a different drink and sometimes a pastry. The cheese buns become her absolute favorite; she gets voracious over them. One time, Peeta gives her a vanilla latte, and he even makes a leaf out of foam in it. She stares down into the mug and smiles, thinking of the forest.

She and Peeta fall into an easy back-and-forth. She usually allows him to do the talking while she occasionally comments or asks a question. There’s some banter between them, which occasionally verges on flirtatious, but she’s growing accustomed to not letting it make her uncomfortable. Instead, she tries to relish the warm, fluttery feeling she gets in her stomach sometimes when he looks at her a certain way or compliments her. And Peeta is good. He’s good at making her feel good. He has just the right balance for making a girl feel special without taking it too far. At least, it must work wonders on most women‒and she wonders about that…does Peeta talk like this with other women? She’s a different story, of course, although, she’s been doing her best to just enjoy the attention she’s getting from a nice, attractive guy.

But eventually, Peeta wants to know something ‘real’ about her. And as soon as he says it, she tenses up. What does he want to know? She feels as though her muscles are almost paralyzed, and her mouth has gone dry.

It’s clear from Peeta’s face that he knows he may have crossed a line, probably because of the way she reacted the first day, but he doesn’t completely back down this time.

“Okay, how about we start out simple?” he says.

“Simple?”

“Yeah. You know, friends tell each other the deep stuff, right?”

Friends? Deep stuff? She keeps her cool. “The deep stuff? Uh oh. Like what?”

“Well, like…” Peeta thinks for a moment. He strokes his chin. “Hey, why don’t we make this interesting?”

Interesting? Oh no. What does that mean?

“Let’s play a little game.” She eyes him warily, and he just smiles.

“I don’t like games,” she protests.

“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun!”

The game is called ‘Real or Not Real,’ and the objective is for them to say things they think they know about the other person or guess at them, and the other person will verify if it’s true (real) or false (not real). Peeta says it’ll be a fun way for them to get to know each other better.

Katniss doesn’t like the sound of it one bit, but Peeta’s so excited to play that she gives in.

He does, indeed, start simple.

“Green is your favorite color. Real or Not Real?” he says.

Katniss nearly laughs. Well, that certainly wasn’t a ‘deep’ question, sounded more like something a five-year-old would ask. But she answers. “Real. But that’s not tough to figure out.”

Peeta snickers. “No, I suppose not.” He glances at her attire, lots of forest green once again.

“Yours is…” She ponders a moment, considering his clothing choices. “Black?”

“Not Real.”

“White?”

“Not Real.”

She goes through almost the entire array of colors only to hear ‘Not Real’ every time. She’s already getting sick of Peeta’s little ‘Get to Know You’ game, but she keeps trying. Finally, she guesses orange, not really thinking it could be right, but she’s nearly out of colors, and it’s either that or pink.

“Real,” he says.

“You’re joking.”

“Not in the slightest. But not bright orange. Muted. Soft, like the sunset.”

Oh, he’s one of those guys…

They continue the game. Peeta’s enjoying it, and for Katniss, it’s tolerable, but she is considering cutting him off, or at least limiting how many questions he can ask her in a single encounter, she allows it.

“Next one.” This time, he leans across the bar. Instinctively, she backs up on her stool when he gets too close for her comfort. He smirks at her. “You like sweet, hot things. Real or Not Real?”

She nearly barks out a laugh at his phrasing, but she holds it in. Is he making a joke? Flirting badly? Or, is he just that cocky to be referring to himself? And if he wasn’t insinuating that, she just thought of him as a ‘sweet, hot thing.’ She cringes inwardly. Oh, of course, he must be referring to her drink of choice.

“Real. You must be a genius,” she jokes. He raises a brow. “The hot chocolate, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I was referring to.” When he winks at her she wants to crawl into a cave.”

***

They play the Real or Not Real game a little bit each time she stops in. Usually, it’s pretty bland stuff, slowly growing more personal than the first colors question, but one day, he asks a question she’s not sure she wants to answer.

“That necklace you wear was a gift, Real or Not Real?” he asks, his expression more serious than she’s ever seen it. It’s almost as if he knows. Or, perhaps he thinks it’s from a guy.

“…Real,” she says softly after a pause, her eyes shifting to the counter. Her answer is followed by a tense silence, but after a moment, Katniss does something completely uncharacteristic‒she pulls out the necklace and lets him get a good look at it. “It was from my father.”

End of Part I

Author Note: Well, what did you think of Part I? The next part (s) will be a bit much more exciting, but I hope you enjoyed the initial buildup. This will either be two or three parts, btw, depending on how long it gets. The next part is mostly written, just needs some additions, tweaking/editing. So…stay with me?

Teaser: Katniss comes back to the coffee shop at night, finding the place completely transformed and Peeta in a different sort of attire. Peeta tells Katniss stories of Snow and of the Victors coming into the place. Later, Peeta and Katniss watch the Reaping and the Hunger Games together, and Katniss becomes invested in a certain young Tribute. Will Katniss have any role in his/her fate in the Hunger Games? Will Peeta and Katniss grow closer? Will some of the Victors we all know and love show up?

FYI: In this AU, if you didn’t notice, Katniss and Peeta are older than their would-be tributes. So, it still takes place surrounding the 74th Hunger Games, though Katniss and Peeta are not in them. And my apologies, but I couldn’t remember how Portia was described in the books. I tried to look it up, but I didn’t find much, so I kind of went with the movie version.

@oakfarmer12

#Springtime Edition 2020 #acpoe82 #oakfarmer12 #prompt 68 #submission

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prettytoxicrevolver · 4 years

Text

Damage | Jack Avery

Warnings? Angst? Idk this isn’t good I’m sorry

Requested? Yes! I hope you like it and if you want a part 2 pls let me know!

Summary: Jack and you have been best friends since kindergarten. You two grow up together and eventually you become the photographer for his band Why Don’t We. During your job, you and Jacks bandmate Daniel get together. After a long time of dating though, Daniel gets jealous when fans continue to ship you and Jack and Jack’s feelings can’t help but resurface.

Word Count: 2,308 (it’s a long one with a lot of exposition)

Part Two is here

Five Years Old

“Jack! Come downstairs for your playdate!” Jack comes barreling down the stairs, nearly ramming straight into his mom and she laughs lightly.

“Momma who's coming over?” He asks and she squats down to talk to him.

“Momma's best friend has a daughter your age and we think you guys will be best friends.'' Just as she finishes talking, the doorbell rings and Jack goes running again. His mom takes off after him to catch up just as he's opening the door.

"Hi Jack! Did you get taIIer?" (y/n)'s mom greets Jack warmly and he smiles.

Jack's mom greets (y/n)'s mom and the two get caught up just long enough for Jack to stare curiously at the other girl. Before the two can get too antsy and run off, (y/n)’s mom introduces (y/n).

“Jack, this is (y/n), (y/n), this is Jack,” The two wave shyly at each other and the two moms smile fondly at the sight.

“Why don’t you two go play outside while we catch up?”

Jack turns around and speeds off, (y/n) close in tow. He swings open the backdoor and straight for the giant play set in the back. The two run around, playing a sort of chase, up and down the slide, before getting tired and settling on the swings.

“What’s your favorite color?” Jack asks.

“Pink!” (y/n) exclaims. “What about you?”

“Green.”

The two go back and forth like this and by the end, they’ve decided they’re best friends. When (y/n)’s mom comes to get her a few hours later, she protests, insisting she never wants to leave. The two hug tightly and part with the promise that you'll be over again soon.

12 Years Old

"(y/n)! Jack is here!" (y/n)'s mom yells up the stairs.

Before she can respond, her childhood best friend comes barging into the room. He plops onto her bed, instantly relaxing and she turns from her spot at her desk to look at him.

"What's up?" She asks.

"How am I supposed to ask Anna to the dance?" He sighs dramatically and she smiles. She stands up and lays down next to Jack.

"Just ask her. She obviously likes you." She responds and he rolls his eyes.

The first school dance of the year was this friday and Jack had been freaking out about asking his crush to go with him for weeks. (y/n) had been trying to convince him forever but he insisted she was going to say no.

"What if she says no?"

"Then you're sad for a bit and then you get up and party at the dance with me." That cracks a smile and the two are back to their normal activities.

16 Years Old

“What do you think we'll be doing ten years from now?” (y/n) asks Jack as she rolls over on his bed to face him.

“I'll be a famous singer and you'll be a photographer. We'll travel the world together and live out our best lives.” She smiles, and Jack turns back around to continue working on his new song.

As he works, she takes a few Polaroids of him and judges which ones to keep, add to her portfolio and which ones to give to Jack. Just as she sits back down, Jack's mom comes in and knocks on the door.

“Dinners ready! (y/n) are you staying the night?” She asks and (y/n) looks over at Jack who nods and she copies the action.

“Sounds good,” His mom says before disappearing again.

Ever since Jack and (y/n) hit middle school years, they ended up sleeping over at each others houses. Their moms decided that they trusted the other enough for sleepovers, and soon they became a regularity.

"We'll always be friends right?" (y/n) asks once the two are settled for bed after dinner.

"Always." He smiles and it goes straight to her heart.

Present Day

"What do you guys have going on today?" (y/n) asks as the boys gather in the living room to leave.

"Meetings, interviews, more meetings." Daniel says while sitting down next to you and pecking your cheek. "You?"

"A photoshoot and that's it.'' She tells him and he nods.

"Have fun my love." He says kissing her and standing up again. Jack comes up and kisses the top of (y/n)'s head and tells her to have a good day before leaving with the rest of the guys.

3 years ago (y/n)'s best friend had joined a band and ever since they've taken off. Millions of followers, several eps, an album, and another tour coming up here you were. Her best friend had traveled the world and she fell in love with his band mate. Life seemed perfect.

Ever since Jack had taken off in his career (y/n) hasn't been far behind. At the beginning of the band's career she had taken all of their photos. Overtime other artists and influencers have reached out to her and asked her to take photos for their own profiles. She had begun to take off with Jack by her side.

That was also how she met Daniel. (y/n) first started staying with the band shortly after they all moved to LA and she picked up a few photography jobs. Daniel and her hit it off right away and three years later they were here. Taking on the world by storm.

The boys seemed to have never ending meeting that was starting to take a toll. Zach looked like he was going fall asleep, Daniel wouldn't stop tapping his pen on the table, Jonah was doodling, Corbyn was on his phone like he was still in high school, and Jack was daydreaming. They were usually better than this in meetings, but it felt like they had been going in circles for days.

"Last two things," The execs say and an audible sigh can be heard around the room. "Your opener and your photographer. Who do you want?"

"Wait, we can bring a photographer with us?" Daniel perks up and Jack does the same.

"Whoever you want."

The boys come home that day more excited than ever. (y/n) had just gotten home from her shoot and was flipping through the photos she had taken when they came practically crashing through the front door. The loud noise causes her to jump, and she spins around to see them bounding through the door.

“(y/n)!!” Jack and Daniel both yell at the same time and she sits up quickly.

“What’s up?” She asks confused as to what the big commotion has been about.

“You free for the next few months?” Jack asks.

Once the boys settle enough to explain that they would pay (y/n) to tour with them and take their pictures she practically has the same reaction as they did. She had been wanting to do a tour with an artist for as long as she could remember and now to have this opportunity especially with her best friends was a dream come true.

We work out the details and (y/n) leaves the house practically screaming inside and out. This was everything to her and she couldn’t believe this was actually going to happen. She was also so excited to travel with her best friends and essentially make great memories for months.

Two Months Later

“Do you have your laptop?” (y/n)’s mom asks, frantically turning around to look around her near empty apartment.

“In my backpack,” She tells her.

“Your chargers? Enough film? Your SD cards? Did you pack enough socks?” She asks and (y/n) sighs.

“Ma,” She says and her mom smiles. “I got it.”

“Okay baby I love you,” She says and (y/n) hugs her mom tight and promises to call as much as possible. Just as they let go, (y/n) hears the shrill beep from the boys car and grabs her bags.

She heads down to the car, where Daniel and Jack meet her. They grab her bags and put them into the trunk before climbing back into the car and diving head first into a summer they would never forget.

“Are you serious?” She asks.

“Dead. Come on!” Corbyn begs (y/n) and she rolls her eyes but holds her camera up regardless.

Her and the boys were stuck in the airport for at least another half an hour and came up with the brilliant idea to snap some photos while they waited for the plane. Corbyn grips his favorite pillow in his arms, offering a pleading look towards (y/n) as he insists it’ll be a perfect photo for his instagram. She relents finally, and kneels down, getting the perfect angle and snaps shot after shot.

“Flight 247 to Las Vegas now boarding,” The overhead speaker announces and Corbyn and (y/n) spring up.

Corbyn grabs his stuff and she follows, running over to where she left hers to find it gone. Her heart drops for a second before she hears a whistle. She snaps her head to the side, seeing Jack raising her backpack in his hand and she smiles gratefully before running over with Corbyn just behind her.

“Gonna need this to start the best summer ever,” Jack says, handing the backpack over with a wink and (y/n) sighs.

When we land in Las Vegas, we head to the hotel first, dropping off our suitcases and getting everything settled. While (y/n) would get her own room, the rest of the boys had to share one way or another. But they were always on the same floor and ran around to hang out with each other in one room.

“(y/n)! My beautiful!” Daniel yells walking into your room. “Wanna explore?”

“Would love to.”

Daniel and (y/n) head out together with a quick message to the groupchat where they would be. They decide to catch an Uber to the venue and dinner somewhere close considering they haven’t eaten since before they had taken off in Los angeles.

Just as they get to the venue, Daniel takes her hand, carefully intertwining their fingers and leads her around the place. She can’t help it, and takes out her phone and snaps a couple of photos as Daniel walks in front of her and when he hears the familiar click of a camera, he turns around.

“Oh come on,” Daniel jokes and (y/n) smiles sheepishly.

“I can’t help it! You look great and the lighting is unique.”

She gestures for Daniel to move and she plops down, snapping a few photos. When Daniel has had enough, he moves towards the girl and pretends to come at her like he’s gonna tackle her. She falls back and Daniel ends up hovering over her, a wide smile plastered across his perfect features.

He leans down, placing a light kiss on her lips and (y/n) reciprocates by leaning up to deepen it. Just as she goes to reach her arms around Daniels neck, someone clears their throat. The two separate and Daniel rolls over to sit down next to her.

“Am I interrupting?” Jack asks walking over.

“A little,” Daniel says and (y/n) rolls her eyes. She raises a hand and Jack helps her up.

“What were you guys doing?” He asks once she’s standing.

“Oh I was just taking some photos of Daniel,” (y/n) explains gesturing to the scene around her and Jack nods. Over the years he had gotten used to spontaneous photoshoots and could practically spot a perfect picture spot as well as she could.

“By the way, the fans are obsessed with our photos on instagram,” Jack mentions and Daniel tilts his head to the side. By now he’s moved so he has an arm around (y/n)’s waist and is staring curiously at the younger boy.

“Corbyn wanted to use my camera so I let him take a few photos of me and Jack,” (y/n) explains looking at Daniel. “How bad are the comments though?”

“Well,”

For the past three months, every time Jack and (y/n) posted a picture together on either one's social media the fans went nuts. They “shipped” Jack and (y/n) like crazy and blatantly ignored (y/n)’s current relationship with Daniel. Some fans really just had no boundaries and Daniel was honestly getting tired, (y/n) was hoping to do damage control, and Jack was hoping his secret crush of 13 years wouldn’t get out.

“Come on man, did you really have to post the photos? You know how bad the fans have been,” Daniel complains and you turn in his arms.

“Woah, it’s not Jack’s fault they have no boundaries,” (y/n) says defending her best friend.

“And you can’t tell me what I can and can’t post,” Jack snaps back.

“Jack chill,” (y/n) says fully stepping out of Daniels arms to get in between the two boys.

“What’s your damage?” Daniel asks and Jack takes a step forward causing you to take one back.

“I think you know exactly what my damage is. Don’t act like you didn’t ask for this.”

“You had your chance man. Don’t act all high and mighty now,” Daniel says and Jack rolls his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” He declares and pushes past Daniel and storms off. (y/n) stares at where Jack walks off for a second, shocked at the random argument that occured before turning towards her boyfriend.

“What the hell was that?” She asks.

“Something you don’t want to get into,” He responds before walking away.

(y/n) stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do or even who to choose. What was that argument even about?

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thecozywhaleshark · 5 years

Text

Pocket Monsta X - Home Alone

A/n: An anon request for Pocket MX being home alone while their mom runs errands and when their mom gets back

Shownu:

is a good, quiet pocket

most of the time

if home alone he will do either two things: 1. read quietly

or 2. turn on the radio to his favorite station and crank the volume

dances and head bangs around the house

will probably be shirtless

only a pocket trained ear will be able to hear faint screaming as he sings if anyone should pass by the house while this is happening

blushes so hard if you catch him head-banging on the kitchen counter and shyly grabs his shirt before scampering away

Wonho:

will pout when you leave

watches from the window with his nose pressed against the glass until your car is out of sight

then is scampering down the back of the couch to the kitchen

stuffs his face with his favorite things (he especially loves marshmallows)

grabs food and hides it in places only he knows so he can sneakily have a snack without you knowing later

will be very clever about it, hide it in low places you won’t think to look

might watch tv

gets really into the cooking shows

even though he knows he's not allowed to watch them (he gets too aggressive over them, you say its bad for his blood pressure)

will keep his eyes glued to the television watching Chopped and screaming at them things like “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SEAR THE STEAK SAM! NOT BURN IT!” or “YOU FORGOT TO HEAT UP THE OVEN YOU DUM DUM!”

as soon as he hears your car in the driveway he’s quick to turn off the tv and run to his little weight set, pretends he's been working out the entire time you’ve been gone

gives you the biggest hug when he sees you

coaxes you into cuddles ~ though it doesn’t take much now does it

Kihyun:

alternates between wandering the house and doodling pictures

if he’s feeling in a cleaning mode might go around the house picking up lint off the carpet

if not he might just reorganize his entire closet a couple of times

will do it by brand, by sleeve length, by color... keeps doing it until he’s satisfied

eventually just lays on the floor and stares at the popcorn ceiling, drawing patterns in his head, might start humming a tune

twiddles his wee little thumbs on his stomach until you come home

so relieved when you do because he’s been so b o r e d

immediately wants to be put right back on your shoulder

will be excited to help you restock the pantries and get everything all neat and organized

Minhyuk:

gathers all of his stuffed animals and climbs up onto your bed

has a little tea party

brings little doll cups of water and some Cheetos onto the bed to serve his friends

it will start out innocent but he’ll soon add drama to the conversation

will sigh dramatically and cause all the drama himself, all “Theodore, please.” and, “Dolly, we all know you would look so much better with a little more stuffing in your cheeks.”

will turn his little tea party into a war zone, making his toys fight each other and spilling the water all over the bed, eating the snacks and leaving little orange hand and footprints everywhere

will eventually tire himself out and fall asleep mid play

that's where you find them when you come back

you will be mad that your white sheets are damp and smeared with orange goo

but he looks so cute sleeping on top of his teddy bear that you can’t bear to wake him

Hyungwon:

wanders the house randomly touching everything

spends a lot of time contemplating where things came from or what would happen if they were to, by chance, break

talks to himself

gives a detailed description of every room in the house and what you guys do there to imaginary real-estate sellers and potential buyers

will get teary-eyed if he remembers something emotional while giving the ‘tour’

will sigh at himself in annoyance and head back towards the front door to start over

will stare at you solemnly when you come in after getting the groceries

if you ask him “hey buddy! what have you been up to today?” he’ll probably just blink and walk away, still lost in his own mind and showing the imaginary guests out the door

Jooheon:

as soon as you’re gone he’s taking out all of his hot wheels and setting up the most elaborate race track

it’ll take him a couple of tries - could take him all day

but he’ll climb everywhere to get some cool jumps

if his car can’t make the jump he’ll ‘fly’ them to where they need to be

which could be in a completely different part of the house

he won’t be done when you come home

be prepared to have to step over all his tracks and have to help him clean it all up later

he’ll want you to grab your own car and race him, turning chores into playtime as fast as he can

I.M:

takes a nap when you leave so he has less time missing you and feeling alone in the big empty house

will try to pull some big kid prank that he’s too little to make happen but he’ll try to do it anyway

like he’ll try to rig up a bucket of water balanced precariously on the door

but he’ll use a plastic cup and the sink sprayer to fill it

he’ll accidentally tip it over on the counter when he’s trying to move it

soaks anything that’s nearby

panics as it drips down the cabinets and onto the floor

scampers away

is in denial when you come home and see water everywhere

“I don't know mom the sink does crazy things sometimes...maybe you oughta get that checked out.”

~~~

Tag List: @zerotexas1975 @restfromthestreets @purpletigertaetae @tangledsparkles @jedi-cat-6 @ruinedbyjin

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hpdabbles · 4 years

Text

Kindness and Remorse Part 3

“Have a good first day of school darling!” Petunia calls once more from the doorway. She dapped her eye with a handkerchief, but she was beaming at him none the less. Around her various adults were doing the same, waving and smiling at the classroom of little people.

She’s one of the few who can get away quickly. One little boy was crying and holding onto his mother's leg with dear life, another little girl demanded her father to sit at the small tables and refuse to allow him to get up.

If Dudley wasn’t an adult trapped in a human body he’s pretty sure he be one of the wailing ones too.

“Bye-bye Mommy.” He calls back waving the hand that wasn’t holding Harry’s in a death grip. He didn’t want the boy to wander off, seeing as his little cousin had the curiosity of monkey and tended sniff out trouble if left alone for too long.

Just the other day Dudley had seen him walk into the street after seeing a stray dog he just had to pet. Thankfully there hadn’t been any traffic and he was able to successfully get him back into the front yard without a trip to the hospital.

Since they had turned four just a few months ago, both were officially starting schooling. Harry had been a little nervous but seem to be happy he would be staying with Dudley. He hadn’t gotten fussy, but Dudley did see his lower lip quiver when Petunia started for the door.

“I love you!” Petunia’s voice shook a little as she presses her hand on her chest dramatically, as if though he was going off to war. His mother was reacting to him not being around the house all day rather hard it seems.

“I love you too,” He says not nearly as dramatic but just as genuine. It hurts to still love them after everything he’s been though but he can’t help it. He loves his parents, had when he cut them out of his life and he thinks he’ll still love them till the day he died.

But loving someone doesn’t mean you are willing to forgive them.

Petunia’s whole face soften, glowing in warmth. “Listen to your teacher, behave and I’ll pick up later alright pumpkin? Once you get out, we can go get ice cream!”

“We really getting ice-cream, Aunt Petunia?” Harry cuts in, excited at the idea of a frozen treat. At once his mother’s face tenses but with the crowd around she doesn’t yell at him. She can’t even sneer since it will ruin the kind heart image she been building up.

She waves at her son as if though her nephew hadn’t spoken before turning on her heels and walking away.

Dudley is quick to reassure Harry before his face could do so much as fall. Swinging their linked hands he leads his cousin to one of the empty round blue tables. “Did you hear Harry? Mommy said we can have ice cream!”

“Ice-cream!” Harry cheers. The little boys take a sit just as the teacher rushes over to give them each a long piece of paper and a bucket of crayons. She’s got warm light brown curls that end just around her shoulder with equally brown eyes.

Dudley stares at her, usually not one to take notice of someone’s looks, but she bares a heartbreaking resemblance to Tiffiny at first glance. She’s got the same shape of lips, but they are a bright red, something that snaps him out of his daze.

His wife was many things, but a wearer of bright lipstick wasn’t one of them. Looking away, he rubs at his chest willing it to stop aching. It’s been four years now (counting the one year he spent with Harry’s house in the future) but he still feels her absence every once in and a while.

“Hello, boys. I’m Ms.Williams and I’ll be your teacher this year.” Ms. Williams says. “We’re going to start the year off by drawing our houses. All the people and pets that live there too. Can you two do that for me?”

“Uh-huh!” Harry bounces in his chair. Picking up one of the blue crayons he quirks a shy smile upwards to the teacher “Me and Dudley color all the time Ms. Williams.”

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Potter. While you two draw, we’re going to wait for more boys and girls and then we’re all going to show each other our drawings” Ms. Williams says reading the name tag on Harry’s uniform. Dudley had pinned it to his shirt after neither of his parents attempted to do so.

It’s a good thing he did, he had a faint memory that Harry was always getting in trouble with losing his name tag in primary school. He’ll have to keep an eye on the pesky thing. It wouldn’t due for Harry to develop a habit of misplacing his things.

Harry is quick to start filling up his paper with lines of various colors. He’s got the basic shape of a square done, even if it is lopsided and he is happy to add a triangle. He bites down on his lower lip just slightly- a sign that Harry was in deep concentration.

Dudley watches him work for a moment before turning to his own paper.

Over the last two years, he’s been able to successfully turn his cousin’s attention to the way of drawings and doodles. Harry still had a blast when playing with his toys, but he seems to be extra excited that Dudley decorated his room’s walls with his pictures.

Sure, they were just random squiggles with lines all over them and quite frankly didn’t resemble much of anything, but they were made with lots of love. His parents weren’t going to praise Harry for his art, nor would they ever hang on the fridge like Dudley’s but the pieces of random color swirls were appreciated by someone.

Petunia and Vernon didn’t quite like it. Often times they would tear down the papers. It didn’t matter since Harry was always quick to replace them with new pieces. Dudley lies about storing them somewhere in the attic for the future since he loved them so much to not hurt Harry’s feelings.

At age four, Harry’s drawing abilities while not wonderful works of art were pretty advanced for his age and if his skill was cultivated more, Dudley had no doubt he quite gifted. Not that he wants to force Harry into any field but a slight nudge here or there wouldn’t do no harm.

Josh Sr. did say drawing could be a good coping mechanism once when Dudley was still just beginning to date his daughter. He’s not overly sure if it can do anything for Harry but giving the boy some mind health tools now would do him some good in the long run.

He hopes.

“What wrong Dudley?” Harry asks while gesturing at his blank paper. “You not having fun?”

Smiling at his cousin Dudley picks up the black crayon “Nothing wrong Harry. I’m just thinking.”

“What about?”

“How to draw mommy.”

“I can show you!” The little boy pushes his paper over allowing the time traveler to get a glance at his work. So far he’s gotten the house done, and three figures floating above a green line- the lawn maybe?- that could be humans.

Dudley inwardly frowns that only one of the figures has a smile. The smallest one, with bright yellow hair.

“Wow, Harry you did a good job!” He gushes dramatically. It takes all his will power not to baby-talk, but he manages. Tapping his finger against the smiling figure he asks “Is that me?”

“Thank you, Dudley,” Harry smiles bashfully, a please blush on his face. “Uh-huh, that’s you. This is Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.”

The child’s finger points at a large circle with a mustache, then a talk nearly stick figure, holding a purse. Both have large frowns and angry slanted eyebrows. More worrying, however, is upon closer examination he can’t spot Harry.

“Where are you?”

“Huh?”

“Where are you in the picture? Or are you not done?”

“Silly I’m where I’m supposed to be.” Harry points to the house window, where a little figure with wild black lines at its head has been added, half-hidden behind the-um curtains?. The figure is smiling at least.

It doesn’t stop his stomach from turning over. Despite how hard he’s tried to make things better seems Harry is still being affected by his monster of guardians.

Of course, he is, you dumb oaf. A nasty voice snickers mockingly in his head. It sounds awful like his father. Kids repeat what they hear. Kids draw what they feel.

Inhaling deeply, while mentally counting backward from ten, Dudley manages a smile at his cousin. It hurts somewhere deep inside that Harry thinks this is normal or that maybe, for the first time around, the drawing of the first day of school was the exact smile with the slight change that only drawing-Harry was smiling. “ It looks nice.”

Harry beams back at him. He then launches into his explanation of how to draw Petunia. Dudley listens to every word, making the appropriate sounds to prove he’s is, but remains mostly silent.

“You want to add more to your picture Harry?”

“Yeah, the flowers Aunt Petunia had me put in the garden.”

A strain grin. “Put them in then.”

“Okay, Dudley.”

Later, the class presents their drawings. Harry’s is one of the best ones, he notes with a smile. Dudley holds a crudely drawn house with only two figures on the outside of it. Both with large smiles, holding hands. One of the figures has a lighting mark above it’s dotted eyes.

Harry loves it.

The rest of the day passes in a slow blur of singing kid songs, drawing pictures and little kid’s laughter. The rules are explained to them all, the kids eager to either do as they told right away or run about without a care in the world. About twenty kids are ranging from the ages of four and five. All of them were allowed to pick different colored tables with no more than six.

There is chatter, squealing and giggles all throughout the day, some kids choose to scream their thoughts instead of talking. Ms. Williams is quick to remind everyone what an inside voice is.

Dudley is honestly surprised Ms. Williams can keep up with them all and not drop from exhaustion. He’s all for nap time, the moment it arrives, and he’s not even in charge.

Dudley didn’t really approach the other kids in the classroom but he did respond if any of them talk to him. Preferring to stay in the background he watches them go about their lives contently. Harry, on the other hand, had been invited to a playground game of kickball and had struck up a friendship with Piers Polkiss, the two almost attached at the hip afterward.

Piers had even moved over to their little blue table away from the overflowing green table just to keep talking to Harry. Apparently, the two enjoy coloring just as much and this meant they were now best friends.

Funny how life works sometimes.

Petunia had kept her word taking the boys to get ice-cream after picking them up. She nearly didn’t buy Harry a cone, but Dudley started to cause a scene in the ice-cream polar, and she was finally forced to give in.

Not wanting her to do something like forcing Harry to throw his cone out the car window, Dudley had requested they stay to eat in the booths so he could show off all his drawings. Vernon wasn’t to be home for another three hours, and Petunia could get dinner done by then, meaning she didn’t see the trouble of staying.

The family got home and Petunia was quick to order Harry into the kitchen. “Come, freak. Dinner needs to be done. Get in here to cook. Now.”

Dudley's face darkens but he followed after them silently. He’s forgotten that his mother had started her ridiculous chore list around the time Harry was four. He never really thought about how awful that truly was until he had grown. It was sickening she expected Harry to be anywhere near the stove as a four-year-old, never mind the forced labor he had to do the following years.

Well, she’s not going to get away with it this time. Not while he was around.

Harry had been forced to work in the garden most of yesterday afternoon with his mother giving sharp instructions. Against his best efforts, it seems he couldn’t spare Harry of his chores. Not while his mother lived with the jealousy and rotting ideas of normal.

He knew this was a problem he couldn’t just scream at until it went away. Resistances in some cases just weren’t the answer. Much like swimming against the rip currents, he needs to find a way around the problem.

It took him all of last night and today to think about it but Dudley may have figured something out.

“ We’re making dinner Mommy?” He asks following the pair. Petunia turns around with a warm smile.

“Oh, not you darling. Why don’t you go watch the telly while we work?”

“But I don’t want to.”

“Popkins, please-”

“I want to cook.” He says stubbornly. He hugs his upper arms, in an ill imitation of crossing his arms. Its something he quite remembered Daisy doing at this age, where she just couldn’t get her arms to cross over her tiny chest and he uses it whenever he’s throwing a tantrum. “Why can Harry cook but not me? Do you love him more?”

Petunia splutters “Popkins of course not! I just don’t want you getting hurt, is all!”

Dudley hugged his arms harder, pouting up a storm. Harry was watching everything with wide eyes. He glances at Dudley’s poster before quickly coping it and turning to his mother with his own pout.

Yes, Harry, join the resistance.

“Mommy I want to cook!”

“Popkins, wouldn’t you rather-”

“I want to cook! I want to cook! I want to cook! I want to COOK!” He shouts the last word stomping one of his feet. He then starts huffing and puffing, right before letting out a loud and long scream.

His tantrum on full force.

Petunia fretts in front of him. This must be tough for her, seeing as she never had to choose between letting her son get his way over not putting a child in danger.

Serves you right. He thinks viciously. Either she gives in and Dudley helps cook, which lessens the load on Harry or she doesn’t which makes Dudley upset that Harry is enjoying something he isn’t. This could lead to her not making Harry cook at all even.

“A-alright,” She says eventually. “You can help. Just listen to everything I say alright?”

“Yes, mommy! Thank you, mommy!”

As Petunia chops the vegetables she has the boys mixing one bowl together, doing most of the work herself while explaining why she does what she does. In a rare moment of affection, she answers every question Harry has, even biting back a smile when the little boy claps his hands and tells her how smart she is.

It seems Harry really taken to the idea of being a little helper, and his mother loves positive attention. She preens under it, as she carefully crafts them up something to eat.

At one point she even offers to teach the boys how to bake cookies this weekend, when she buys the groceries. Harry is beside himself.

She then hands them both some vegetables to wash, which really she had already done so, and made various points to not going anywhere near the stove to Dudley. By proxy, Harry had received the same warning.

Dudley watches the pair throughout the whole thing and wonders if his mother wasn’t a lost cause as he originally thought. She then tried to get Harry to wash the dishes, large cutting knives and all. He imminently stood beside his cousin at the sink fighting back the disappointment.

Petunia just took one step forward and two steps back.

Sometimes the ones that hurt us the most are the ones who should love us the most. Tiffiny’s voice echos into his ears as he helps Harry dry the dishes. Petunia had taken to the actual washing once she realizes Dudley wasn’t going to let Harry touch the soapy water before him. You have to remind yourself not to let those people back in once you kick them out. It’ll only cause you more pain.

When Vernon got home that night, Dudley had planted himself next to Harry at the kitchen counter refusing to take a seat at the table until his cousin was allowed to. This was something that had become a tradition over the last two years and like the nights before Harry was eventually seating at dinner time.

“How was school, Dudley?” Vernon asks his son halfway through the meatloaf and steam vegetables, Petunia had put together with their help.

“Fun! Harry and me, got to take naps and Harry made a friend!” He answers with fake excitement. Moving his green beans and baby carrots from his plate onto Harry’s, with a pointed look at how little he’s been serve- They are not starving him this time!- before he asks. “What is his name again?”

“It’s Piers. He likes to draw too! He made this really big fire truck!” Harry chirps. He happily starts feasting upon the green beans, one of his favorites. He doesn’t speak with his mouth full since Petunia hates it- only when Harry does it apparently. Swallowing his food, the green eye boy is quick to describe his day. “Ms. Williams let us draw twice! We got to sing songs, and play kickball and-”

“I was asking Dudley.” Vernon cuts in a cold voice “Not you boy.”

“Let him finish Daddy,” Dudley says just a notch away from the stern, but only barely able to keep his disdain out of his tone. He pouts his lips and makes his eyes wide at his father. The man takes one look at him before grumbling into his meal.

“Fine. Keep going, boy.”

Harry hesitates for only a minute before he’s back into talking about his new best friend. Dudley makes sure to respond, and for a while, it’s only the kids speaking. He starts to talk about his day, his parents now joining the conversation.

Towards the end of the dinner, Dudley launches into his other plan of attack. Without changing his outer behavior he casually slips in “I told Ms. Williams Harry sleeps in the cupboard sometimes and she made a funny face.”

Both adults freeze. Acting like he doesn’t notice, Dudley and his cousin share a laugh. “She’s so silly to not know you can sleep under the stairways right Harry?”

“Uh-huh. Ms. Williams kept asking me funny questions too.”

“Questions?” Petunia chokes. “What kind of questions?”

“She asked if you hit me, isn’t she is funny? She didn’t even believe Dudley when he said where my room was until we showed her the pictures.”

“Pictures!? What pictures!?” Vernon demands jumping up.

“From my camera Daddy,” Dudley says unable to hide his wide grin. His parents had given him an old polaroid a few months ago. Dudley had made an effort to be seen taking pictures all around the house, using Harry as a model, as to not raise suspicion when he took pictures of Harry’s room.

No one had known what went on in at 4 Privet Drive which is why they were able to get away with most of their abuse on Harry but Dudley remembered how quick his parents were to make things look better the day they thought someone was watching Harry.

True, it had been someone magical, but the point still stands that it was the sense of thinking no one cared enough to look let them act as they wished.

They could do nothing now that another adult had evidence.

“She really liked them! She said I took the best pictures ever mommy!”

“Popkins, where are these pictures of Harry’s room?” Petunia asks, her face pale like milk.

“Ms. Williams has them.”

The adults trade some looks before they have them go up to Dudley’s room. Later that same night, they sit the boys down to explain that Harry’s room is no longer going to be under the stairway. He will now be living in the extra bedroom they kept Dudley's toys.

He would be sleeping with his cousin tonight and while his mother tucked him in, and by extension Harry, Petunia took much a very long time to explain that Harry’s old room wasn’t a bedroom but a playhouse.

If Ms. Williams asks again they were to tell her that’s where they played make belief but it was considered Harry’s since he was the one that found it. Dudley seeing his chance asked if they could have a treehouse or a playhouse in the yard as a secret base for more make-belief games.

Petunia's whole face brightens as if an idea struck. “Why we could get you both a playhouse couldn’t we? Harry’s old room was just a practice one until your Daddy made enough money to get you these ones. Tomorrow, we’ll all go to the store and pick something out.”

“Wow! We’re going to have a secret base!” Dudley says to Harry who is laying next to him. His cousin is all but vibrating in child adrenalin ecstasy, his hands gripping his half of the blanket tightly. “Wait till we tell Ms. Williams!”

“Oh, I bet your teacher would just love to hear all about your secret bases boys. Maybe sure to let her know. Both of you.” Petunia orders as she flickers out the lights. The room is bathed in the soft brightness of his night light, the color-changing built making the stares that it shoots extra lovely. “Goodnight Popkins. Sleep tight. Mommy loves you.”

“Night Mommy, I love you too.”

Once she leaves, closing the door behind her, Dudley turns to Harry, tucking him in a bit better and whispers “Goodnight Harry. I love you.”

“Night Dudley. I love you too”

There is a moment of quiet before Harry whispers “I got a room now like you.”

Dudley can’t help the rush of triumph sing through his body. Yes he doubts this will last, and there is still much more to do to make sure Harry has a happier life but this is his first real sign of progress. His first two real victories in a roundabout way. “Yeah, you do.”

“This is the best day ever!” Harry whisper-shouts.

“It really is.”

A rush of warmth surrounds the boys as they drift off to sleep, Harry pressing his face into his cousin’s hair while Dudley had an arm secured around him in a hug. Neither realizing the warmth was unnaturally comforting or the slight silver shine of the air surrounding the bed, blessing their dreams with happiness.

#hpdabbles #Harry Potter #Kindness and Remorse Au #Part 3 #mentions of child abuse #Wizard!Dudley #Dudley is starting to inflict change #He's also working on making sure Harry is told I love you every day #Time skip of two years.#Harry copies almost everyhting Dudley does #Dudley uses his own privlage bubble to fight for Harry

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theolddarkmachine · 4 years

Text

Imaginary- Chapter Eight

Midoriya Izuku’s life was turned upside by fate.

Eri’s life was turned upside down by circumstance.

And Bakugou Katsuki is about to learn that even imaginary friends need to grow up.

Also on AO3

A/N: Would you believe I got this all done in one day? It’s like I can almost keep up with my own writing schedule XD Anyway, please know that I really love Eri and would 100% protect her with my life.

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

Katsuki doesn’t know why he went with the lie.

He still doesn’t know why Midoriya Izuku can see him.

Most importantly, he doesn’t know why the fuck he’s in the Midoriya household, sitting at their dining table eating semi stale chocolate chip cookies and pretending to like coffee, while also pretending to know anything about Eri’s progress at daycare.

Katsuki supposes he can just go ahead and add that to the ever growing list of things he apparently doesn’t know. What the hell was one more item anyway?

“It’s funny how we bought your grandma’s house,” Midoriya chuckles, ripping him from the depths of his thoughts. His eyes watch him closely as he blows over his coffee before taking a sip. Sitting across the table from him, Midoriya is still in that damned worn tank top, and still distracting. Even more so now that Katsuki can’t help the way his gaze helplessly tracks his throat as he swallows the hot liquid.

This had been the last thing he’d expected when he’d woken up this morning and decided to bit the bullet and make his return.

He was Bakugou damn Katsuki after all, and he was one of the best god damn imaginary friends out there. A green haired nerd of a father seeing him wasn’t going to keep him from doing his job.

That’s exactly what he had told himself as he’d gotten ready, ignoring the slight pulse of his brain against his skull thanks to the the previous night’s alcohol.

It’s what he had continued to tell himself as he’d finally make his way over to the Midoriyas.

And that’s what he tried to remind himself as Midoriya himself had stood there looking wholly indecent on his front step.

Averting his eyes when the man resurfaces from the edge of his mug, Katsuki takes a sip of his own bitter coffee for something to do, and promptly chokes on the scalding heat.

“Yeah,” he says lamely after catching his breath, voice husky from the coffee’s attempt on his life. “Really funny.”

“Guess that’s a small town for you,” Midoriya hums, happily supplying Katsuki his own cover up for his lie.

“Yeah,” he says again, lower this time as he lets his eyes drag towards where Eri sits between them. With her tongue poking out slightly and a look of concentration across her face, she covers the paper in front of her with marker.

Calm settles out over the room as Katsuki watches Eri add a bright orange butterfly to the corner of her paper. It stretches over the length of several minutes before he sees Midoriya open his mouth, ready to say something, when the sudden loud chirp of his phone causes him to snap it shut.

Turning his attention from the paper, Katsuki watches as he stands, letting his gaze linger as Midoriya walks to the counter and picks up his cellphone. His brows pinch together as he looks down at the screen.

“Sorry, I got to take this,” he says, not bothering to wait for Katsuki’s nod before answering and walking out of the kitchen. The sudden urgency in his voice causes Eri to look up from her work just in time to see him leave.

“Hey, brat,” Katsuki mutters, pulling her attention away from the entrance of the kitchen where Midoriya’s voice is just a dull hum. A small frown plays across her lips as she looks up to him with darkened eyes.

That just won’t fucking do, he thinks silently to himself before contorting his face into something ridiculous. There’s a momentary hesitation as Eri looks on before she laughs loudly. Settling his face back into an approximation of his usual steely look— even as his lips curve upward slightly— he grabs for a marker. Popping the cap, he starts to add a doodle beside her colorful rainbow.

Smile pulling wider as she watches him, she leans back down to continue decorating the paper beside him.

It isn’t until several minutes later that Katsuki feels the heat of a weighted stare on him, brushing his skin with a firelight glow and raising goosebumps across his arms. Snapping his attention upward, he catches the last vestiges of fondness that still cling to Midoriya’s stare as he stands in the doorway, gaze intent on the scene before him.

An unfamiliar twist rocks deep in his stomach as their eyes meet, and Midoriya nods his head back, beckoning him to come over.

“Mind finishing this off for me?” Katsuki asks Eri, eyes still fixed on her dad as he blindly points at the small dog he’s outlined with the name King Explosion Murder written in block letters beside it.

“Okay!” She cheers, pulling the paper closer to her as she gets to work on making the fearsome dog purple.

The loud sound of the metal chair legs against the linoleum signals his movement as he stands, making his way to where Midoriya stands in the hallway just outside the kitchen. Curiosity fills him with an odd liquid warmth as he stands before the shorter man, still not used to the weight of his gaze finding him instead of looking through him.

“I have a huge favor to ask you,” Midoriya says without preamble, looking just shy of sheepish as a pink flush paints itself across his cheeks. The rush of electric admiration tickles along the edges of Katsuki’s ribs with the realization that Midoriya is a couple inches shorter than him as he looks up.

“Go on,” Katsuki says, voice brusque with his interest as he crosses his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to stop the buzzing in his chest.

“There’s a pretty big wreck about 30 minutes out of town, and we’re the closest police department,” Midoriya starts, rubbing at his arm absently as he keeps his eyes set just over his shoulder. “They need all hands on deck.”

“So you need me to sit in with the kid,” Katsuki finishes for him, watching as the flush goes a deeper shade and makes his freckles stand out more against the pink.

It’s a beautiful shade, a small voice at the back of his head whispers.

Wait, what the fuck?

“Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind,” Midoriya says, shifting his gaze the few inches to the left to catch his ruby touched look dead on. There’s a challenge there, nestled in the depths of his own jewel toned stare as he doesn’t back down, even as his cheeks radiate his chagrin.

“I’d ask my mom, but she’s the next town over with a friend, and I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Breath holding in the base of his throat, Katsuki tilts his head, looking at Midoriya for what feels like the first time. He knows it must take a lot to ask him for the help, if the fire in his eyes is anything to go by, and something about that makes another rumble of warmth go through his chest.

“You don’t know me,” he hears himself say before he can stop the track of his thoughts from falling from his lips. It causes Midoriya to laugh, the sound of it tinged with an odd sort of disbelief as he shakes his head.

“Yeah, but Eri seems to like you well enough,” he replies, eyes shifting to where the young girl is still at the dining table, happily coloring.

Decision makes his gaze bright as he returns it to Katsuki.

“Between you and me, she seems to like you so much that she named her imaginary friend after you.”

Quick panic shocks all of Katsuki’s senses as the statement too close to the truth.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, especially since it must be your day off, but please,” Midoriya’s voice goes soft and hopeful. Mouth going dry as he finds himself pinned beneath a vast forest of green, Katsuki nods his head dumbly.

“Yeah, alright,” he agrees quietly.

Looking down as Midoriya’s eyes light up, Katsuki doesn’t know why the bright gratitude slips straight through his rib cage and lands directly at his heart.

Mentally, he adds that to the list.

***

I owe you one, Midoriya had said, right after giving him a quick tour of the home and pointing out the location of every one of their emergency first aid kits.

Yes, plural, because apparently on top of being a cop, he was also a top notch worry wart.

Staring dumbly at the front door that Midoriya had just left out of, Katsuki counts to ten before turning to where Eri is now situated in the living room. After putting up a bit of a fight upon hearing that her dad had to go into work on his day off, the four year old had finally let him off the hook only after he’d promised that she could pick what they had for dinner. Now, she sat with her legs crossed in front of her, sandwiched between the couch and coffee table as her eyes fixate on the television, leaving her drawing supplies abandoned before her.

A small wave of emotion rolls over him as he looks at Eri.

He really had missed her.

“Tsk,” Katsuki hisses under his breath as he moves into the living room. I’m getting soft.

Dropping down next to the small girl, he folds one leg in front of him and stretches the other out to the side. Katsuki isn’t sure he was ever small enough to fit in between the two pieces of furniture, but he sure as shit isn’t now.

Lowly, he tsks again as he tries to adjust himself enough free his back from the near painful press of the couch against his spine.

“So, brat, not that I’m usually one to talk about morals, but you do know lying is bad, right?” Katsuki finally says after giving up on his futile endeavor, instead setting his attention on Eri as she turns to him. Her little brows pull together in confusion as she tilts her head.

“You know, how you told your dad I’m from daycare,” he continues, waving his hand as if it helped in his explanation. A small smile turns her lips upwards, and he isn’t sure what he expected her reaction to be, but that wasn’t it.

“Silly, Kacchan, that wasn’t a lie!” Eri laughs, shaking her head almost like she knows something he doesn’t.

A muscle just beneath his eye twitches.

“Okay, but it’s still not really the truth either,” he grits out, wondering for the first time in his existence if this is how it felt to be a parent.

“You had seemed really worried about Daddy Izuku seeing you,” Eri explains as a brief pause, her shoulders slumping and voice small as she speaks, filling Katsuki with instantaneous regret. Her eyes fall to the carpet between them before she speaks again,

“I was just trying to help.”

The admission presses heavy on his heart as he sighs, reaching out slowly to drop his hand on her head, giving her hair a quick ruffle.

“You’re too damn smart, kid,” he says lowly. “Thanks for that.”

A beaming grin starts to spread across her features as he drops his hand, mouth opening around a statement before he cuts off her excitement by holding up a finger in the universal sign of ‘wait.’

“But next time, if we need to lie, let’s come up with one together, okay?” Katsuki says, breathing a bit easier when she nods in agreement.

Good, he thinks to himself as she turns her attention back to the TV. A pleasant, comfortable quiet hushes through the room as Eri watches her cartoon. Reaching forward, Katsuki pops the cap off a marker and starts to mark an empty piece of paper with bold black lines. It’s an easy sort of silence as he loses himself to the simple work of drawing, time passing steadily around them for an undetermined amount of time before Eri speaks again.

“Kacchan?” She asks quietly, not turning to look at him as she does.

“Yeah, squirt?” He answers, voice preoccupied as he grabs for the green marker and begins filling in some of the spaces between his lines. The high pitched sound of cheering blares from the television, filling the space of her silence for long enough that Katsuki wonders if she’d heard him.

“Why’d you leave?” Eri finally asks. Clenching his fist around his marker, he looks up in time to see her lip wobble slightly, even as her eyes remain set straight ahead.

“Do you not like me anymore?”

It’s a painfully earnest question, turned dark with its hurt, and Katsuki feels it squeeze around his heart like a vice.

“Don’t be stupid, of course I like you,” he growls, “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Sniffling loudly, Eri just nods as she continues to not look at him. Quickly replacing the cap on the marker, Katsuki drops it before turning as much as he can in the small space to face her.

“Listen, I wasn’t gone because of anything you did. Your dad saw me, so I tried to stay away for a bit since he wasn’t supposed to see me,” he tries to explain as he chews on the anger that ripples through him, all of its heat centered on himself.

“But he still can,” Eri says, tone matter-of-fact.

“Yeah, looks like it,” he answers, though it isn’t a question.

Her nod is sharper this time as she finally tuns to look at him. An infinitesimal smile draws across her face, even as unshed tears cling to the corners of her eyes.

“Well I’m glad Daddy Izuku can see you,” she proclaims boldly, then sniffles.

“What the—” Katsuki bites off his expletive at her sudden exclamation. Sucking a steady breath through his front teeth, he starts again.

“Why’s that, squirt?”

“Because if he can see you, that means you’re friends now!” Eri says excitedly, bouncing a little where she sits. “And that means you get to be his friend for as long as he needs you too!”

There’s a moment as Katsuki looks down at the small girl as she looks up at him, eyes still watery as she echoes his words from when they had met. They shift something in his mind as a realization suddenly clicks into place.

Imaginary friends are meant to help those who have forgotten how to smile.

The Administrator’s words circle around his thoughts as a sudden flash of emerald blinks across focus, truly seeing him before fading away, replaced by Eri’s expectant look.

“Huh,” he manages as he turns back to his drawing, grabbing for a grey marker and removing the cap to continue his work.

Leave it to a four year old to figure it out, he thinks to himself as he folks his breathing to the time of his careful strokes of color.

“Does your dad need a friend?” Katsuki wonders out loud, not expecting much of an answer. He figures it’s a far bigger question than a child could probably answer, even if she was slowly proving to be one of the smartest people he knew.

There’s a small hum beside him, and he sees her tap a capped marker on her chin as she thinks.

“I think so,” she says definitively, turning her honest gaze to him. Lifting his marker, he pauses, waiting for her to continue.

“He saved me, and we had to move because of that,” she speaks low. “I don’t think he wants me to know that, but I do.”

Katsuki shakes his head slightly.

“Too damn smart,” he repeats under his breath, cutting his gaze to the side to see her expression twist into something sour. Not bothering with the cap this time, he drops the marker off to the side with a small clatter.

“What’s up, kid?” Katsuki finds himself asking as she wipes the back of her wrist across her eyes.

“Do you think I’m cursed, Kacchan?” Eri asks, voice watery as she keeps her eyes pressed into the back of her small forearm.

“No, I don’t,” he answers immediately, tone defiant in challenge of whatever fate had made the small girl feel that way. “And I bet if you ask your dad, he wouldn’t think so either.”

“But bad things always happen to the adults I know,” she cries, scrubbing furiously now at her eyes to dry away the fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Something sharp snaps at the center of his chest, forcing a growl from out from deep in his chest as he pulls Eri into his side for an awkward hug.

In that moment, he knows he’d burn the world down if that’s what it took to wipe away those thoughts from her mind.

“Listen here, brat. If anything bad happens to the adults, that’s not your fault. It wasn’t ever your fault, and won’t ever be your fault, alright?” Katsuki snarls, voice gruff in a way that he knows he should temper, but he’s angry that anything would make the small girl cry like this.

Minutes pass as he sits there with Eri tucked into his side as her tears dry up, and several minutes more before he feels her nod against his ribs.

“Good,” he huffs, pulling away from her to slip her the paper he’d been drawing on. The drawing brings her smile back to life as her gaze brushes over the brightly colored art of her and Midoriya. Grasping at the corner of the paper, she brings it closer to inspect it.

“Kaccahn?” She asks, looking over the the two grinning figures that stare up at her.

“Shoot, kid,” Katsuki answers, watching her smile continues to grow as she drags a finger over the lines of marker Midoriya.

“Do you think we could make Daddy Izuku happy?” Eri wonders. Stomach twisting at the question, Katsuki swallows down the sharp taste it leaves on the back of his tongue.

Reaching out for another blank sheet of paper, he grabs the abandoned marker that still lays on the table without its cap. Twirling it between his fingers with a quick flourish, he waggles his eyebrows at Eri, earning himself a small laugh before he writes TOP SECRET PLAN in bold letters at the top.

“Yeah, squirt. I think we could probably do that,” he finally says, offering her a smile and tilting his head toward the pile of markers between them. Excitement fills her eyes as she grabs one, pulling the cap off and settling herself up on her knees to better see the paper as she looks up at him with wander.

Nodding to her, he leans an elbow on the table and balances his chin on his palm, readying his marker over the paper.

“Now, what do you think we should do for him?”

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

#bakudeku #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #heeeeelp i love eriiiiii TToTT

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peechesand-dreams · 5 years

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um, can i ask how you color in your drawings? they all look really good and your art inspires me :)

OH!! UHM!! My coloring style is such a mess but djfhdeghI try emulating my watercolor style when i do traditional illustration- which is me adding bursts of color everywhere jsdhfdgGonna use this doodle of witch fury I made!!So first I guess i start with layer layout; I have my sketch (in black lines works best for this style);Note: Yes the colors folder is above the lines! It’s supposed to be there!

I then set my colors folder to Lumi&Shade

Note: You have to keep your sketch and colors folder inside another folder when doing this, or else the Lumi+Shade folder will also be affected by the background. Which you don’t want! As long as it’s all contained in a folder, it’ll prevent other layers below it from affecting it!From there, I add a base color to the entire sketch/linework (usually the skintone)

The skin tone is what usually sets the overall tone for the colors, since I usually do all the coloring on one layer and it all blends together.I lock the coloring layer’s opacity (preserve opacity in sai) so the colors dont go outside of the base, and using a custom watercolor brush, I slap on color! I always start with the skin shading. For a sketch like this, it’s not usually too detailed shading. I only ever detail when I plan to refine something. I try to keep in mind the light source.

the process is a bit hard to explain I’d have to record a video tbh if you wanted to really see it. But I rely heavily on vibrancy and local colors when I color the skin here. By local colors I mean I use the eyedropper tool a lot to color pick midtones from the lineart itself and the three main colors I’m using (base, a vibrant color, and a darker shading color). I’m still following my light source here!For the rest of the drawing I’m doing relatively that same thing, but I’m also using the mess from my skin coloring process to blend with the clothing colors (and the clothing colors to blend with each other)I start with the shading color first for clothes and then go over it with the lighter color after

and since I almost always work with a really warm palette (due to working off the base skintones), I’ll often take a really bright or saturated cool color (like a blue or green)and lightly splash it in some of the darkest areas to contrast all these warm tones

to finish ti all off, I usually add some sharper white highlights and lines on a topmost layer to counteract how soft and blended the coloring is. I also usually lower the opacity of the sketch a bit, so in some places (for example the hands here), I’ll do some quick-but-not-so-crazy refining or outlining to make them more defined

And then I’m done! That’s my coloring process!!

Disclaimer: This coloring style is highly stylized. I developed this style after developing a basic understanding of shading and painting. This style is absolutely great if you wanna make something look pretty or use it to help develop your own style.However!! it’s not good at all if you’re trying to learn how to shade or color, or other basics, since it doesn’t use a lot of technical application. The technical stuff is stuff I already have in my head and learned and I take some shortcuts, so trying to learn how to shade or color from this is not so good if you're just starting out and want to improve ;v; best used for fun!

That aside!!! I’m so happy that I inspire you; getting this ask made me really happy and I hope that this short guide on how I slap colors onto doodles or right before I refine a painting helps!! It’s messy, so it’s not for everyone, but it’s just how I like it! Have a wonderful day and art adventures anon

#faq #answered with art #milk art #asks #tutorial #Anonymous

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plusultrabitchez · 5 years

Text

Rooms on Fire Chapter 8: Doughnuts and Criminology

"God why is this so hard?" Hitoshi groaned in frustration. He was out to lunch with Midoriya and Iida trying to brainstorm first date ideas.

"Can you not think of anything?" Midoriya asked as he munched on his food.

"I have a few ideas, but nothing seems to be good enough. I've waited years for this opportunity and I don't want to fuck it up." Hitoshi sighed and buried his face in his hands.

"Hmm..." Iida rubbed his chinned pensively. "Well what are your common interests?"

Hitoshi removed his face from his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. "Pretty much everything. The biggest ones are coffee, books, cats, we love the same music, horror movies. She has a giant sweet tooth, god she can put away food." A smile creeped across his face as he thought of you. "She's just so amazing and I want it to make it something she'll love."

"Understandable. I find it very endearing that you care for her so much that you're willing to go above and beyond for a simple date." Iida proclaimed waving his arms in typical Iida fashion. "I'm sure she will appreciate anything you do for her."

"Yeah I'm sure she will too. That's just how she is. But I just want to do my best and give her what she deserves." Hitoshi was getting discouraged. He didn't want to just take you out for dinner, he wanted to blow your socks off and show what a good boyfriend he could be.

Midoriya gasped as he had some huge epiphany. "Didn't you have a big date planned when we were all at UA?"

Hitoshi thought for a moment before all those memories came rushing back to him. "Yeah I had a whole day planned for us. I just never got around to asking her"

"Why don't you take her on the date your planned back then?" Iida suggested.

"Yeah! I bet she would love that!" Midoriya beamed.

Hitoshi took a moment to think it over. "I think I will. I'll add a few extra things, but I think that would be good." This was his second chance and he wasn't going to fuck it up.

"What the hell am I supposed to wear?" You have been standing I front of your closet for an hour. Hitoshi wouldn't tell you where you guys were going, but he said it was casual. But what if that was a lie to throw you off. What if you dressed casual only to have him take you somewhere nice and you were out of place. You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a frustrated groan. Hitoshi was going to be there any minute.

"Ugh! Fuck it!" You grabbed black skinny jeans, a loose black silk cami with lace trim, black doc martens and finished off the look with your black leather jacket. You checked yourself out in the mirror for a final assessment. At least your hair was cooperating today. You nodded in approval when you heard a knock at your door. Your stomach did a flip. "Here we go."

You walked down the street with Hitoshi's arm around your shoulder and your arm wrapped around his waist. He had brought you gorgeous flowers when he came to pick you up. White lilies with sprigs of eucalyptus and lavender. They smelled so good you wanted to bring them with you so you could admire them all night.

"So where are we going?" You asked curiosity eating you up.

"I can't say! It'll ruin the surprise!" Hitoshi was a full of excitement and nervousness. He gazed down at you snuggling him as you walked and sighed happily. How did he get this lucky? He kissed the top of your head and inhaled your sweet scent. He loved that you always smelled like honeysuckles.

You two rounded the corner and Hitoshi stopped in front of a specialty doughnut shop.

"Ooooh! Is this it? Are we going to eat the whole store?" You asked in excitement. Hitoshi chuckled. "Not exactly. This is a quick stop on our way to our final destination."

"As long as I get to have doughnuts and hang out with you I can't complain."

You two went inside and ordered 2 dozen assorted doughnuts. This place didn't mess around. They had a ton of colorful doughnuts in crazy flavors. You were most excited about caramel espresso and fruity pebbles flavors. Doughnut boxes and coffees in hand you made your way down the street again.

You had no idea what Hitoshi had planned. You would've been fine with anything, but it was so sweet he was going to such great lengths. Your heart swelled, just full of adoration for him.

You two approached a brightly lit old school movie theater.

"Oh my god." You gasped as you read the marquee.

Night of the Living Dead Fright Night

You looked at Hitoshi and then back at the marquee then back at Hitoshi with your mouth agape. Hitoshi smirked. Clearly he made the right choice.

"Hitoshi...I..." you were speechless at first. It took you a moment to find the words to express exactly how awesome this was. "This is just amazing and perfect and....holy fuck Hitoshi. You're amazing."

Hitoshi blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ha, it's nothing much. I'm glad you like it."

You ran up and hugged him tightly. "This is amazing and I love it." Hitoshi hugged you back and you gave him a kiss before you headed into the theater. He got you the best seats in the house, right in the middle. He bribed the employees to let you bring in outside food and drinks.

It was a double feature. Night of the Living Dead followed by Dawn of the Dead. You and Hitoshi had a blast having a quote-a-long with the movie as quietly as possible without disturbing the rest of the viewers.

There was a brief intermission between the first and second movie so you went to the concession stand and got popcorn, candy, and soda since you had finished the coffee and doughnuts during the first film.

You two plopped back down in your seats and waited for the next film to start.

"Having fun?" Hitoshi asked tossing a kernel of popcorn in your mouth.

"The most fun I've ever had." You replied as you tossed a kernel at Hitoshi.

"Really?" He asked surprised. "You're not just saying that are you?"

"Are you kidding? I'm watching classic Romero films on a big screen, I just had the best doughnuts I've ever tasted, I just got more junk food, and I'm with the sweetest, most handsome and amazing guy I've ever met. This is seriously the best."

Hitoshi couldn't do anything but lean over and kiss you deeply. You both forgot where you were and continued to exchange slow and passionate kisses. People soon noticed and started to hoot and holler at you, one guy yelling "GET IT DUDE!" causing you two to blush and break away because you were laughing so hard.

Hitoshi leaned in, his lips brushing up against your neck before moving to your ear. "We'll pick that back up later." You felt your whole body heat and your heart skip a beat. You quietly gasped as he placed his hand on your thigh and gently squeezed before moving it back to your hand. There was that cocky smirk again. "You're too easy." He chuckled. The lights went dark and the second film began.

It was late as you walked back to Hitoshi’s place. You were excited to see it. He had been to your place multiple times, but this was the first time visiting his place. Part of the way there he yelled “THEY’RE COMING TO GET YOU BARBARAAAA!!!” Then chased you down the street making zombie noises. You could barely run because of how hard you were laughing. He caught you and tickled you mercilessly before getting you to hop on his back for a piggy back ride.

“I can’t wait to meet Cat.” You said looking around the street and enjoying the warmed of Hitoshi’s body.

“Yeah he’s a bit of an asshole, but sweet when he wants to be.”

“Like cat like owner.” You teased.

Hitoshi laughed. “You got me there.”

You made your way down the street until you reached Hitoshi’s apartment. He set you down and got out his keys. A wave of nervous energy washed over him. He fantasized on how this night would go, but it was going better than he ever could’ve imagined. “Don’t fuck it up Hitoshi.”

He unlocked the door and you went inside. You took off your shoes and looked around at the cozy apartment. It was warm and inviting with overflowing bookshelves, tons of pillows, and the wall full of black and white photographs.

“Wow, you’re place is great.” You said making your way to the living room. You heard a meow and looked over to see Cat greeting you both on the coffee table. “Hey bud.” Hitoshi scratched Cat’s chin.

“Would like some wine?” Hitoshi asked.

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

Hitoshi went into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. You gave Cat some pets then went over to his bookshelf and noticed something familiar.

Hitoshi came back into the living room with two glasses of red wine and saw you looking through an tattered book. “What cha got there?” He asked walking over.

You choked up a bit looking through the book. It was an old criminology book you had given him after the sports festival. Tucked between the pages were dozens of notes you had written to each other. “Wow, I cant believe you kept this.” You held back tears best you could. It was so sweet that he had that book after all these years. You read through some of the notes and chuckled at the memories. Towards the back you noticed a sketch. Hitoshi turned pink “Ugh, ha, that’s nothing. Just a doodle.”

You pulled out the page to see a beautiful sketch of you in your old school uniform. “Oh my god. Did you draw this?” You asked shocked at how amazingly detailed it was.

“Yeah...I...well, when we stopped training together I didn’t get to talk to you a lot, but I saw you in the library all the time...” he trailed off watching you stare at the sketch. “It’s creepy isn’t it?”

“No actually, it’s so sweet.” You looked up to him as a happy tear escaped.

Hitoshi sighed and set the wine glasses down on the coffee table. “Come here.” He said in that low voice that made you weak in the knees. He gently took your hand and sat you down on the couch.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

You looked at him utterly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“When we were UA and Aizawa took over my training. I just stopped talking to you and kinda avoided you for a while.”

You sighed heavily. That part of your time at UA sucked. You felt like you lost your best friend and you took it pretty hard. “Yeah I remember.”

Hitoshi saw the hurt in your eyes and it felt like a punch in the gut. “The truth is, the date that we went on tonight, I’ve had that planned since our training sessions UA.”

You eyes widened. “Wow, really?” You weren’t sure what to make of this information. “Why didn’t you ever ask me?”

Hitoshi let out a heavy sigh. "Aizawa."

You quirked your eyebrow.

“I got them months in advance and he saw the tickets I had to the film festival during one of our training sessions. When he asked me why I had two tickets I told him that I had planned to ask you on a date."

You nodded and waited for him to continue.

“That's when he told me that I should avoid any 'distractions' aka you, because I needed to focus all my time and energy into getting into Hero course and my training. He threatened to stop training me if he saw I wasn't taking it seriously. So I threw the tickets away and avoided you."

Hitoshi watched your face for a reaction. To his surprise you smiled.

“Aizawa told me something similar actually.”

Hitoshi looked at you shocked. “He what?”

You took a deep breath. “He told me that in order for you to get into the Hero course and achieve your dreams of becoming a pro hero I needed to give you space so you could focus on achieving you goal.” You leaned over and cupped his face with your hand. “I knew how important it was to you, so who was I to fight it? And don’t get me wrong Hitoshi, it killed me not talking to you. You were my best friend and I missed you so much.”

He placed his hand on yours and gently squeezed it. “But if I ever got in the way of you becoming a pro hero I could’ve never forgiven myself. So when you avoided me, I didn’t ask questions and stayed away.”

Hitoshi was taken back. You were so selfless and did what you could to help him even if it caused you pain.

“Honestly, I don’t think it matters what happened then.” You said caressing Hitoshi’s cheek.

Hitoshi smiled, knowing exactly what you were thinking since he felt the same way. He picked you up, your legs wrapping around him as he carried you towards his bedroom.

“Because we’re together now.”

(I hope you guys are ready for the smut chapter next. Thanks for waiting patiently! Btw if you like the story so far let me know!)

#bnha shinsou #rooms on fire #bnha #bnha fanfic #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #chapter 8 #fluff

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verdigrisprowl · 5 years

Text

Jan 28 Dancitron Movie Night - Gotham s2 e20-22

lmao this was two weeks ago idk what they did. i ain’t rereading the log. they finished the season. before the stream Prowl showed off his human avatar’s new t-shirt and after the stream he did some fancy bridging, and I only know that because I accidentally glimpsed it while preparing the log for posting. what happened during the stream itself is a mystery.

Today NoodlesAtNight 7:46 pm *Nothing new under the sun - he's just sitting on the couch, legs crossed at the knees, hands folded on his lap. Every now and then his foot bobs as if to say that, yes, he is in fact still alive.* Today SCProwl 7:53 pm *doesn't need to feel the subtle vibration from Soundwave's occasional foot movements to tell he's alive, but it's nice to know the energy signature that represents him on her visor is indeed alive* MedicalMurdersaurus 7:55 pm *scrambles indoors, covered in soot and excitement* HI NoodlesAtNight 7:55 pm *He'll ping his timeline's Prowl hello and get her set up with a feed and description. He is /prepared/ for tonight.*

[[Good evening, Swoop. He's going to start charging you a vacuuming bill.]] NoodlesAtNight 7:56 pm ((lol "the only cop u like" it's true)) MedicalMurdersaurus 7:56 pm Why? :V verdigrisprowl 7:56 pm *shows up as a fifteen-foot-tall human* Soundwave. NoodlesAtNight 7:56 pm *Casually points at the greyish-black smudges around Swoop's feet. That's why.* SCProwl 7:56 pm *ping of thanks before she finds her usual seat* MedicalMurdersaurus 7:57 pm *looks where Soundwave points, crouches down and immediately gets down to work doodling * NoodlesAtNight 7:57 pm *Soundwave finally shows something more than a minor movement when the human appears. He twists his whole upper body to stare for a moment, perplexed. Humans ddddooooon't come that tall. What is...?*

[[........Prowl?]] NoodlesAtNight 7:58 pm *Silently despairs over Swoop's nonsense.* MedicalMurdersaurus 7:58 pm *has plenty of nonsense for the whole floor* verdigrisprowl 7:58 pm Look. *he pulls out his t-shirt for Soundwave to observe. It's a black shirt with a white drawing and text of a baseball diamond, with each position labeled with the players' names from Who's On First.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:00 pm *the dragon comes in with the cart full of treats, opens her freshly unbandaged mouth to speak, and nearly bites her tongue clean off at seeing a giant human. okay. welcome to cybertron, it's full of nonsense. she'll just... put the treats on the bar. like this isn't happening.* NoodlesAtNight 8:00 pm *Soundwave leeeeans and squints behind the half-visor. ... And his face splits into a horrible, toothy, open smile.*

[[/Delightful./]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:00 pm *writes out BIRD WAS HERE because nothing says "I love you" like a pitifully obvious attempt at vandalism* NoodlesAtNight 8:00 pm *Laserbeak will love it as soon as she stops stuffing her face and actually shows up* NoodlesAtNight 8:01 pm [[Do not worry, dragon. That is not a real human.]] SCProwl 8:01 pm *fails to notice anything wrong with the Captain's appearance. holomatter is energy is holomatter is energy is--* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:01 pm *will spend his BIrd-free time writing other equally inspired sayings around the place in ash, insulting Buzzsaw, Shockwave, and so on* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:02 pm *let no one say he doesn't SORT OF half listen* NoodlesAtNight 8:02 pm *Soundwave stretches a feeler over to smudge out the one about Shockwave.* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:02 pm :V Rude NoodlesAtNight 8:03 pm *...After a minute, adds "Soundwave: also here" to the graffiti. If you can't beat them, join them.* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:03 pm *snickers* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:03 pm Smokescreen shows up to these movie nights. I take nothing for granted. *chuffs a little* But I suppose a real human would suffocate to death. NoodlesAtNight 8:03 pm ((ten minutes til start, get whatcha need now)) NoodlesAtNight 8:04 pm [[Only downstairs.]] verdigrisprowl 8:04 pm *he showed up in a funny shirt and as a reward got the most beautiful smile. the shirt was a good idea.* *he switches back to his usual avatar and sits* NoodlesAtNight 8:04 pm *Glances back to Prowl.* [[A greyface gave him a shirt once. Perhaps he should program it onto his own human form.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:05 pm *starts wandering around leaving handprints on things* NoodlesAtNight 8:05 pm [[Swoop! Go wash your hands.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:05 pm *stares at Soundwave* *licks both his palms and then holds them out for inspection* NoodlesAtNight 8:06 pm *Is still for a long moment. Then shudders.* [[What /are/ they teaching them over there...]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:06 pm : > verdigrisprowl 8:06 pm What's the shirt? NoodlesAtNight 8:08 pm *Soundwave taps his chin, looks upstairs, and mentally adjusts one of the cameras in his storage quarters. He then lets the feed sit on screen for a moment.* verdigrisprowl 8:08 pm *looks at the xenomorph shirt* ... It'd suit you. NoodlesAtNight 8:09 pm [[Do you think so? He knows very little about human fashion.]] ((six minutes!)) SideswipeStriker 8:10 pm -just going to slide in, and sit. Blaster couldn't make it today- verdigrisprowl 8:11 pm From what I can tell, all humans are able to wear t-shirts. And they generally wear t-shirts with pictures of things they like on them. And that's a thing you like. NoodlesAtNight 8:11 pm *A nod to Sideswipe. He wonders, does everyone at that base share all the episode or movie data between themselves? They must. How else would they know what they were watching?* NoodlesAtNight 8:12 pm [[That is true.]] *Perks.* [[Did you get the base for the one you had from Earth?]] verdigrisprowl 8:12 pm It's actually kind of interesting. I can't think of any other species that have designed a specific garment that serves as a wearable art canvas. SideswipeStriker 8:12 pm -They do. Don't worry, the room chatter is filtered out before it's shared.- NoodlesAtNight 8:13 pm ((two minutes, lemme get some warnings up)) SideswipeStriker 8:13 pm -still, quick nod back to Soundwave- verdigrisprowl 8:14 pm The base for the t-shirt, you mean? No, it came default with the updated holomatter program I got on the Lost Light. The color is adjustable and it's even got a little layer where you can insert your own image to display on the shirt. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:14 pm *half listening to the t-shirt talk* Him Sideswipe do costume stuff. NoodlesAtNight 8:14 pm ((GOTHAM S2 20-22 // Violence, blood, death. Poor depictions of mental illness, ableist language, psychiatric and medical abuse. Flashing lights, rat, mild body horror, gross rotting head, needles, spider, weird eye, uhhhh... "meat dust", I don't know how else to describe what happens there without spoiling it.)) SideswipeStriker 8:15 pm I do what now? SCProwl 8:15 pm ((meat dust bwahaha SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:15 pm *if soundwave doesn't mind, the dragon will get loafed up on the couch by him and prepared for Movie* verdigrisprowl 8:15 pm ((so, bacon bits)) NoodlesAtNight 8:15 pm [[That is helpful - but he also meant the image. It is brilliant.]]

((oh my GOD)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:15 pm ((snort the meat dust like cocaine)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:15 pm *blinks owlishly at this sideswipe* NoodlesAtNight 8:15 pm *Soundwave scootches closer to Prowl to make room for the dragon on his other side. He's pretty sure Prowl won't mind.* verdigrisprowl 8:15 pm Oh. I found it on the internet. SideswipeStriker 8:16 pm -waves back- verdigrisprowl 8:16 pm *An alien on the couch? ... Not enough to say anything about it.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:16 pm *to be fair, it's not like she needs a lot of room. tiny dragons be tiny.* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:16 pm Not YOU. Him Sideswipe. At Ark. Him do costumes alllll the time. Him do Dinobots as Power Rangers for Halloween! NoodlesAtNight 8:17 pm *True, but Soundwave does tend to stretch out when he can.*

[[Their datanet is full of good visuals. He will have to look for some others...]] SCProwl 8:17 pm They could put those documents back together. SideswipeStriker 8:17 pm Oh. Heh. My alternate is really creative, ain't he? NoodlesAtNight 8:17 pm [[It would take time they do not have.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:18 pm yup verdigrisprowl 8:18 pm Gym shouldn't even be there. This is a police investigation. SideswipeStriker 8:18 pm Freelancing MedicalMurdersaurus 8:18 pm Me Swoop want alternate. Me Swoop never ever get to meet other Swoop. Us need more Swoops! Kehehheh! NoodlesAtNight 8:18 pm [[They can ban him despite his contract to investigate, eys?]] [[Primus. One Swoop is enough.]] verdigrisprowl 8:18 pm Clearly, they should confiscate the documents anyway. Maybe they don't have the time now but they could have it—and need the documents—later. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:18 pm ((my favorite part of returning to college is hearing my roommate delightedly go "hi meeper!" as princess nugget /catapults/ herself at the roommate)) SCProwl 8:18 pm Exactly. NoodlesAtNight 8:18 pm ((hee hee!)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:19 pm Ten Swoops NoodlesAtNight 8:19 pm ((also: again, i apologize for probable skips and stutters now and then, this is the best rabbitcast i could get tonight)) SideswipeStriker 8:19 pm You're ten by yourself, buddy MedicalMurdersaurus 8:19 pm Two hundred :V NoodlesAtNight 8:19 pm ((i so don't feel sorry for this priest tbh)) SideswipeStriker 8:20 pm ((yeah, that's kinda God's bag SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:20 pm ((my great aunt would've thrown him through a plate glass window)) ((my great aunt is, for context, a nun)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:20 pm ((A+ suit)) SideswipeStriker 8:20 pm Swoop, buddy, let's /not/ NoodlesAtNight 8:20 pm [[You two have got a point. He generally assumes the GCPD is not competent enough to think about that.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:20 pm A miiiiiiiiillion Swoop :V NoodlesAtNight 8:20 pm ((and i can see why she would!)) verdigrisprowl 8:20 pm That's fair. SideswipeStriker 8:20 pm -snorts- SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:21 pm Penguin human. Clean up your den. That's a good way to become ill. SCProwl 8:21 pm They generally aren't unfortunately. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:21 pm ((my great aunt is badass)) SideswipeStriker 8:21 pm ((pffff verdigrisprowl 8:21 pm ((why the hell did jim even quit, like,)) verdigrisprowl 8:22 pm (("oh i'm not being a cop anymore. ...... but i'm doing everything a cop does anyway, and hanging around the cops, and being constantly inconvenienced by the fact that i'm not actually a cop")) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:22 pm Is that even a real sword. It broke like stick candy, and it looks fake. NoodlesAtNight 8:22 pm [[It was a prop sword.]] verdigrisprowl 8:22 pm If it's shaped like a sword and it's made out of metal then it's a real sword. That doesn't make it a good one. SideswipeStriker 8:23 pm .... MedicalMurdersaurus 8:23 pm Guardian meansssss.....? Caretaker? SideswipeStriker 8:23 pm Yeah NoodlesAtNight 8:23 pm [[Yes. Guardian, someone who guards.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:23 pm Him Sunstreaker is Bob guardian NoodlesAtNight 8:24 pm [[Yes, he is.]] SCProwl 8:24 pm Human children need to be tended to, correct? MedicalMurdersaurus 8:24 pm Ratchet is Swoop guardian Wheeljack also guardian NoodlesAtNight 8:24 pm [[Very often. Few of them can stand on their own until close to their second decade.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:24 pm Buuuuuut them not GUARD us Dinobots keheh. Us not need guards. verdigrisprowl 8:25 pm Actually, they typically learn to stand within about a year. NoodlesAtNight 8:25 pm *Leans back.* [[What?]] MedicalMurdersaurus 8:25 pm Blooooooooddddd *giggles* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:26 pm It /was/ fake! SCProwl 8:26 pm Hm. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:26 pm Well. It was a fake of a real sword. It was, however, made of bad metal and utilized for the purposes of stabbing people. verdigrisprowl 8:26 pm *looks at* ... New humans can stand on their own within about a year? MedicalMurdersaurus 8:26 pm *suddenly serious* Soundwave. Where Her Bird? SideswipeStriker 8:27 pm It was a copy of a sword SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:27 pm Unless that's a fascinatingly resilient sword, it is going to be very rusted from being buried with a dead body. SCProwl 8:27 pm So he's going grave robbing. SideswipeStriker 8:27 pm Good enough to stab a few, yeah? But, not good enough for a sword fight SCProwl 8:27 pm Only if it's made from a metal that rusts and whatever mythic properties it has might also prevent it from deteriorating. NoodlesAtNight 8:28 pm *Stares in confusion for a few moments before getting what Prowl is saying.* [[Oh. No, not - that is, he meant they are typically incapable of surviving by themselves until that age.]] *Shakes his head.* [[He supposes you are right in the literal sense. Still - even a year is a /long/ time for any newbuild not to know how to stand up.]] [[There are creatures on Earth that learn to stand and walk and run in minutes.]] verdigrisprowl 8:28 pm Oh! Yes. SideswipeStriker 8:28 pm ...... Sounds like a challenge NoodlesAtNight 8:28 pm *Bird is coming! She's dragging a small rag bundle filled with snacks.* {{Hiiii.}} SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:29 pm Do humans make swords of any material? *the dragon shrugs her wings* I guess it makes sense- what dragons use swords for and what other species use swords for can be different. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:29 pm *chirps with excitement* Hi, Bird! NoodlesAtNight 8:29 pm *She spots the graffiti on her way to Swoop and pauses to circle it.* {{Neheh. That lie. Bird not there early time.}} *She says while writing "It true" just beneath it.* verdigrisprowl 8:30 pm To be fair, most species' development rates seem slow to me. Even other Cybertronians. SCProwl 8:30 pm I don't know what humans make swords from but Cybertronian weapons are made from many different alloys. NoodlesAtNight 8:30 pm ((incoming skellie)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:30 pm *is absolutely delighted by her reaction, all grins from audio to audio* SideswipeStriker 8:30 pm -snorts again. Crowbars work too- NoodlesAtNight 8:30 pm [[That is true. He still does not know how they fit everything they must know in two weeks...]] verdigrisprowl 8:30 pm There are swords on top of the coffin. They could at least TRY to grab those swords before opening up the crypt. SideswipeStriker 8:31 pm Aw, c'mon, the guy is dead, hush ...whoops NoodlesAtNight 8:31 pm [[She has seen the sword before; she would know if the ones atop the crypt were what they wanted.]] verdigrisprowl 8:31 pm Fair. verdigrisprowl 8:32 pm She's going to die. NoodlesAtNight 8:32 pm ((flashing lights, i think)) SCProwl 8:32 pm Stealing from the dead. *shudders* verdigrisprowl 8:32 pm Oh, never mind, she's going to change sides. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:32 pm The dead can't use it. NoodlesAtNight 8:32 pm *Bird paps Swoop's cheek.* {{You good friend. Now Bird got alibi.}} SideswipeStriker 8:32 pm What's wrong with that? The dead thing. SCProwl 8:32 pm At least it wasn't part of the body. verdigrisprowl 8:32 pm Nope, she's trying to bring his memories back, I'm back to "she's going to die." SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:32 pm From a cruel, pragmatic perspective? The dead don't need to survive. Of course, no one really needs this sword, so I suppose the point is moot. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:33 pm *would blush if that was a thing Dinobots could do* Me Swoop helping : > SideswipeStriker 8:33 pm Oh. She's gonna die verdigrisprowl 8:33 pm Yep. NoodlesAtNight 8:34 pm [[Pity. He likes her.]] SCProwl 8:34 pm She reminded him of his real objective. SideswipeStriker 8:34 pm Not surprised you were right, Prowl SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:34 pm Did he gut-wound her? She might not die immediately from that. NoodlesAtNight 8:34 pm [[It is unwise to bring back the memories of a person who threatened to kill you shortly before they died.]] SideswipeStriker 8:34 pm Just alot NoodlesAtNight 8:35 pm [[Humans succumb to gut wounds very quickly, from what he has seen.]] verdigrisprowl 8:35 pm Their guts are minced very easily. NoodlesAtNight 8:35 pm [[Their own insides poison them.]] opatoes 8:35 pm /Smokescreen's coming in late, but is waving at Soundwave and Swoop and Round Prowl!/ Hey everyone! What'd I miss? SCProwl 8:35 pm I'm aware of the pragmatics of taking from the dead. It was a valid survival tactic during the war. SideswipeStriker 8:35 pm Death doom and destruction MedicalMurdersaurus 8:35 pm *waves* SideswipeStriker 8:35 pm And graverobbing SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:35 pm Yes. But, in dragons, it can still be sometimes survived with immediate medical intervention. If you intend to kill someone with a gut wound, you ought to be watching them die to ensure their death. NoodlesAtNight 8:36 pm [[You are missing the Galavan-Azrael human gathering his true sword and going after Bruce Wayne.]] verdigrisprowl 8:36 pm ((seriously why doesn't jim just rejoin the cops)) NoodlesAtNight 8:36 pm ((because he's still a dumbass who thinks Lone Wolfing it is the way to go at this stage)) SideswipeStriker 8:36 pm ((because plot bs? verdigrisprowl 8:36 pm ((there's. there's no sensible reason for him not to.)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:36 pm ((man pain)) verdigrisprowl 8:36 pm ((literally the ONLY thing he's been doing is "cop things" and "pouting about being unable to do cop things")) opatoes 8:36 pm His true sword? I missed SWORDS? Man, I always miss the good stuff SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:36 pm ((okay, I'm face blind as hell, but is this the same selena as before?)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:37 pm ((she doesn't! look! right!)) NoodlesAtNight 8:37 pm ((and also because he wants to solve bruce wayne case and wouldn't be allowed or something since barnes has told him to let it go before)) verdigrisprowl 8:37 pm ((she straightened her hair, i think that made her look different)) NoodlesAtNight 8:37 pm ((it's her, she's just got straightened hair)) opatoes 8:37 pm ((wait yeah her hair looks- oh SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:37 pm ((augh. why must my brain be constantly confused)) verdigrisprowl 8:37 pm ((i seriously wondered too. i had to look away from the sceen and see if her voice sounded the same)) ((i don't like straight hair selina)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:37 pm ((the straight hair is weird and inexplicable. Why would she waste time straightening it? SHe just shoved it in a beanie right after.)) opatoes 8:37 pm ((that's a mood asdczxnb SideswipeStriker 8:37 pm Ah, vents, always fun opatoes 8:38 pm ((I once thought a coworker was a different person because he cut his hair... NoodlesAtNight 8:38 pm ((wig?)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:38 pm Do humans typically keep food in their air vents? opatoes 8:38 pm I do! But I'm also not human SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:38 pm ... *stares at smokescreen* verdigrisprowl 8:38 pm ((her hair spontaneously straightened out of grief when bruce moved back home)) SideswipeStriker 8:38 pm ... opatoes 8:38 pm ... What? Sometimes, you need a good spot for snacks. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:38 pm *mock whispers* You Bird food in air vents? Kehehh NoodlesAtNight 8:39 pm *Bird whirls round on Swoop.* {{What you know? Who told?}} MedicalMurdersaurus 8:39 pm *briefly startled before laughing* NoodlesAtNight 8:39 pm ((upcoming scene is one of the ones that convinced me to watch Gotham at all)) ((this one here)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:39 pm *laughs* Hello, riddling human. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:39 pm *assumes they are playing because why wouldn't this be play fighting* Me Swoop never tell! SideswipeStriker 8:39 pm -gigglesnort- verdigrisprowl 8:39 pm They could just crawl around each other. SCProwl 8:40 pm ((same. i saw a gif set of that exchange and was like yup gotta watch this *tilts helm slightly toward Swoop and Laserbeak's conversation* NoodlesAtNight 8:40 pm {{What you Swoop want for telling?}} *HUFFS* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:40 pm I think she'd bite him if he tried to pass her. And she probably knows how to bite. NoodlesAtNight 8:40 pm [][][]Can you pick--[][][] opatoes 8:40 pm I wanna learn how to pick locks... opatoes 8:41 pm Like, I don't need to learn, but I wanna learn. NoodlesAtNight 8:41 pm *Shaking like a piece of tinfoil in a tornado* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:41 pm Ah, see? She's still alive. Just being poisoned by her guts. SideswipeStriker 8:41 pm Depends on the lock, Smokes MedicalMurdersaurus 8:41 pm Ahhhhhhhuuummmmmmm! *doesn't have a good answer, normally this is the part where someone tries to punch his lights out and the wrestling starts* You Bird.... ummm..... NoodlesAtNight 8:41 pm ((butch ;; <3 )) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:41 pm ((Buuuuutch)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:41 pm ((I'm having... feelings...)) SideswipeStriker 8:41 pm ((noooooo SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:42 pm ((Butch, just tell her that Galvan stabbed her)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:43 pm ((him)) ((I cannot fucking /brain/ today)) NoodlesAtNight 8:43 pm ((png telling it like it is)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:43 pm ((ah, png knows, nvm)) NoodlesAtNight 8:43 pm {{Me Bird what? What?}} verdigrisprowl 8:44 pm He didn't even signal before making that turn. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:44 pm So. Who thinks that the Azrael human is just following the Jim human to find Bruce? NoodlesAtNight 8:44 pm [[It was a nice turn, though.]] SideswipeStriker 8:44 pm -raises hand- NoodlesAtNight 8:44 pm {{Bird think it!}} verdigrisprowl 8:44 pm It would've been nice if he'd done it without squealing. NoodlesAtNight 8:45 pm {{Oh. Maybe him Azrael already know.}} verdigrisprowl 8:45 pm And doubtful. Gym has a car. Galavant doesn't. SideswipeStriker 8:45 pm Yeah, that sounded paaaoh shit SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:45 pm Mhm. I was wrong. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:45 pm *looks up at Bird sheepishly, twisting back and forth* Youuu Bird... ahh... *wants to say a thing but DOESN'T WANT TO SAY A THING* UMMMM! NoodlesAtNight 8:46 pm {{...Ravage got Swoop tongue?}} [[Fool. At least put your escape route back correctly.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:46 pm Well, there's more than one way to bait a hook, I suppose. Perhaps I oughtn't make predictions. verdigrisprowl 8:46 pm Amateur. SideswipeStriker 8:46 pm Not very smart MedicalMurdersaurus 8:46 pm yah :X NoodlesAtNight 8:47 pm {{Bird go shoot him. Coming back in minute.}} *She zooms up the stairs* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:47 pm *covers his face with his hands and giggles* NoodlesAtNight 8:47 pm ((get him alfred!!)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:48 pm *remains in his giggly, unseeing state the whole while she's gone* SideswipeStriker 8:48 pm That's not good Arcee-Autobot 8:48 pm [[ Hey everyone! I'm actually awake late enough to Join this since I haven't in a while lol]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:48 pm Suspicious elevator. NoodlesAtNight 8:49 pm ((heeeey! haven't seen you in forever, welcome back!)) Arcee-Autobot 8:49 pm [[ Thank you! I can actually see things again!]] opatoes 8:49 pm ((: O !! Hey!! Arcee-Autobot 8:49 pm [[ Long story short I used a Hair dye and I had an allergic reaction that caused a lot of swelling around my face , But i'm okay!]] NoodlesAtNight 8:50 pm ((oh damn - i'm glad you're all right!!)) verdigrisprowl 8:50 pm ((oh yikes)) NoodlesAtNight 8:50 pm ((it early Croc)) SideswipeStriker 8:50 pm .......so SideswipeStriker 8:51 pm Um... NoodlesAtNight 8:51 pm [[Yes?]] SideswipeStriker 8:51 pm Humans aren't supposed to look like that MedicalMurdersaurus 8:51 pm *looks around to see if there is a nearby pillow or blanket* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:51 pm I mean, it could have been a much worse look for a human. NoodlesAtNight 8:51 pm [[Generally not, no. One of Strange's experiments, he expects.]] SideswipeStriker 8:51 pm Yeah, but what the frag? And yikes SideswipeStriker 8:52 pm Strange is kinda like....Shockwave verdigrisprowl 8:52 pm The shoes are a decoy. MedicalMurdersaurus 8:52 pm *yanks a nearby blanket away from its home and throws it over himself for maximum giggly hiding* NoodlesAtNight 8:52 pm [[He gave the human girl a reptilian arm, after all. Simple work to give this human... they looked like scales. He will go with scales.]] verdigrisprowl 8:52 pm Yep. NoodlesAtNight 8:52 pm *Pings Prowl. Good work, there.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:52 pm I would assume scales. NoodlesAtNight 8:52 pm [[And yes, he is.]] verdigrisprowl 8:52 pm Back up. SideswipeStriker 8:52 pm Ah... verdigrisprowl 8:52 pm Double tap. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:52 pm If you have to look for a corpse, your foe is not dead enough yet. Kill it again. verdigrisprowl 8:53 pm At any rate, don't get out of the car. Keep driving. SideswipeStriker 8:53 pm Ah. NoodlesAtNight 8:53 pm *Laserbeak comes down with Ravage, who has a mouthful of something. He wanders over to Swoop and promptly deposits it at Swoop's feet. Behold: a severed tongue.* {{Bird got it back.}} verdigrisprowl 8:53 pm Seriously? He blows off HOW many bullet shots, and now he's conveniently not wearing bulletproof armor? When and why did he take off his bulletproof armor? MedicalMurdersaurus 8:53 pm *peaks out from under the blanket, sees the tongue, and immediately starts SHRIEKING with laughter* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:53 pm No, he's not dead. SideswipeStriker 8:53 pm Ooooor not NoodlesAtNight 8:53 pm [[Oh, really, Ravage. He thought he told you to get rid of that thing.]] opatoes 8:54 pm throw the gun at him! SideswipeStriker 8:54 pm Oh slag SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:54 pm Throw the gun. NoodlesAtNight 8:54 pm ((AW YEAH)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:54 pm ((PENGUINO)) Arcee-Autobot 8:54 pm Arcee took a seat on the Floor and Hugged her Knees watching what was on [[ Its a Pengu boiii]] verdigrisprowl 8:54 pm HA! NoodlesAtNight 8:54 pm *Bird CACKLES* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:54 pm ...Oh no. SideswipeStriker 8:54 pm HAH opatoes 8:54 pm PHFFHF MedicalMurdersaurus 8:54 pm *looks over at the sound and OADSIHFIAUDSHFJDSFHGKHDFKJND* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:54 pm Finally, enough kill. Arcee-Autobot 8:54 pm That's going to leave a mark SideswipeStriker 8:54 pm Oh, oh that's a fun feeling SCProwl 8:55 pm *laughs* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:55 pm *could not laugh LOUDER than he is right now* *on the floor* *dying* verdigrisprowl 8:55 pm *covers mouth and collapses against Soundwave, shaking* MedicalMurdersaurus 8:55 pm *SO GOOD* SCProwl 8:55 pm W-well that's one way to make sure he won't come back a second time. NoodlesAtNight 8:55 pm *Soundwave valiantly tries to stay upright so Prowl has a support to laugh into. He's a bit wobbly himself, though.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:55 pm ((I can't fucking breathe, that was /hilarious/)) SideswipeStriker 8:55 pm ((THAT WAS AWESOME SCProwl 8:56 pm ((that was the best scene this entire season NoodlesAtNight 8:56 pm ((i have been waiting m o n t h s in the hopes we would get to that so i could see y'all react)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:56 pm *the dragon hums contemplatively* They could have burned the rest of the effluvia as well. Leave no scrap behind. verdigrisprowl 8:56 pm ((it killed me)) SideswipeStriker 8:56 pm -face in knees, laughing still at the rocket launcher- MedicalMurdersaurus 8:56 pm *actually flailing he's laughing so hard* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:56 pm ((I spat water on the computer and also the cat)) NoodlesAtNight 8:56 pm {{Him Swoop dead. You Ravage take outside, bury.}} ((oh dear, poor cat)) MedicalMurdersaurus 8:57 pm *lets out a squeak at the "threat" and is just so delighted by the entire world right now* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:57 pm ...Oh no. opatoes 8:57 pm ((i might head out because i'm too busy to stay but that was a good scene and D : NoodlesAtNight 8:57 pm ((i'm glad you got to see that at least!!)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:57 pm ((the cat will forgive me later)) opatoes 8:57 pm Soundwave- Something came up in my universe, and I've gotta go, but- I'll catch up with you later? SideswipeStriker 8:57 pm ((awww ((g'night then! NoodlesAtNight 8:58 pm [[Oh? Be safe, then.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 8:58 pm Strange is starting a cult. Arcee-Autobot 8:59 pm *Arcee was pretty content hugging her knees wathcing* If she doesn't remind me of airachnid? SideswipeStriker 8:59 pm Yikes NoodlesAtNight 8:59 pm ((also, while i have most of you here: starting s3 in about two months from now, y/n? i do warn that it has a creepy opening storyline because the mad hatter's in it, and that you're going to fucking hate the riddler if you don't already, but aside from that it's good stuff)) SideswipeStriker 8:59 pm Goddess of Fire huh? verdigrisprowl 8:59 pm I wonder what would have happened if she'd held still and refused to run. If she didn't serve as a "test," would Firefly refused to fight her? MedicalMurdersaurus 8:59 pm ((I'm in it for the long haul, man.)) SideswipeStriker 9:00 pm ((yeeeees MedicalMurdersaurus 9:00 pm *flops out, limbs sliding out all over ot make himself into quite the lanky mess* ((I love harvey)) NoodlesAtNight 9:01 pm [[He expects Bridgit would still burn her.]] verdigrisprowl 9:01 pm Mmm, yes, the fact that they're talking about sacrifices leads me to believe she might have just killed her anyway. But until then, it could've gone either way. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:01 pm Bird! You funny. Me Swoop love You : > NoodlesAtNight 9:01 pm ((any other votes for y/n?)) verdigrisprowl 9:01 pm ((fine by me)) SCProwl 9:01 pm ((y SideswipeStriker 9:02 pm .....oh damn, there are more like Strange? NoodlesAtNight 9:02 pm ((in two months it is then)) [[...Fascinating. His eyes have no color.]] SCProwl 9:02 pm ((i want to get us to s4 because. reasons NoodlesAtNight 9:03 pm {{You Swoop silly.}} *She pats him. Ravage goes over to curl around Soundwave's ankles.* Arcee-Autobot 9:03 pm *Arcee felt herself Physically cringe as she covered her face* gross.. verdigrisprowl 9:03 pm ((his superpower is that he's a comic book character)) SideswipeStriker 9:03 pm .............. NoodlesAtNight 9:03 pm *Perks.* [[Octopod DNA? Then that is the ability to-- oh, fascinating. Fascinating.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:04 pm *leans into the pats a bit* NoodlesAtNight 9:04 pm @P: [[Strange has obviously never met Tarantulas.]] SCProwl 9:04 pm ((FIIIIISH verdigrisprowl 9:05 pm @S «Mm.» *he's too bothered by the whole "design their personas" bit to offer more of a reply than that.* SideswipeStriker 9:05 pm I....think it's a good thing I came tonight NoodlesAtNight 9:05 pm *That's less amused than he would have expected in an ideal situation. He suspects they've reached big discomfort levels again. He'll make a hand available* NoodlesAtNight 9:06 pm [[Oh? Why is that?]] SideswipeStriker 9:06 pm Uh....reasons verdigrisprowl 9:07 pm *... it was only a momentary flash of discomfort. ongoing comfort isn't needed. how does he indicate that?* NoodlesAtNight 9:07 pm *Oh, and cuttlefish now? He's obviously getting into the good Earth animals. Too bad this is how he chooses to do it.* verdigrisprowl 9:07 pm *............ low-fives Soundwave's hand.* NoodlesAtNight 9:07 pm {{Him got point.}} ((big flashy)) MedicalMurdersaurus 9:07 pm *was too busy mooning over Bird to pay attention* Huh? NoodlesAtNight 9:07 pm ((when it returns to her)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:09 pm ((poor ed)) NoodlesAtNight 9:09 pm *Soundwave tilts his head, trying to process what the hand slap means. It's not a proper slap - not angry - so that would make it... acknowledgment of hand presence? Which didn't linger. So Prowl knows it's there and didn't take it, yes? Then he's either all right or doesn't want that particular form. Soundwave will give a tiny nod and then let his hand settle back in his lap.* NoodlesAtNight 9:10 pm {{Them bit about - "her already dead," about electric damage. It good point.}} *She's pretty sure Swoop wasn't listening but she tries anyway.* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:10 pm Oh. *has no clue what Bird is referencing* Okay. : > NoodlesAtNight 9:10 pm *Yep, that is one blank Swoop.* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:11 pm You Bird tiniest visor eeeeeeever : > NoodlesAtNight 9:11 pm ((i LOVE this damn suit god)) verdigrisprowl 9:11 pm *look at that, Prowl aced that communication.* SCProwl 9:11 pm ((yass queen SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:12 pm *cackles* SideswipeStriker 9:12 pm Well SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:12 pm ((precision "bitch")) SideswipeStriker 9:12 pm Looks like, she came back with her memory Arcee-Autobot 9:12 pm *Arcee gave a little Happy Clap* verdigrisprowl 9:12 pm They mentioned that cuttlefish DNA enhances brains or something, didn't they? NoodlesAtNight 9:13 pm [[That they can repair brain cells.]] *Nods. And smiles. Such good creatures. How happy he is that she can't be fed one of Strange's stories.* SideswipeStriker 9:13 pm Ooooo that could have done it verdigrisprowl 9:13 pm Yes, that. ... Cuttle Fish Mooney. NoodlesAtNight 9:13 pm [[Heh.]] SCProwl 9:13 pm *huffs* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:13 pm Cuddle? :V *glances at Bird* NoodlesAtNight 9:14 pm {{Oh, look there! It Arcee. Hi, Arcee.}} *Floats over to escape any possibility of huggy Swoop.* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:14 pm *wilts just the tiniest bit* NoodlesAtNight 9:14 pm *Attempts to perch on Arcee's head with both feelers.* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:14 pm : < Arcee-Autobot 9:15 pm * Will only allow this because She is in a good mood* NoodlesAtNight 9:15 pm *...Bird wasn't expecting to be allowed to do this. She now has no idea what to do with this power.* *Sit there and preen, she supposes.* verdigrisprowl 9:15 pm ... They just, have him—hidden in the trunk, like— ...... Okay, I guess. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:16 pm *rolls on the ground to turn himself into a burrito* NoodlesAtNight 9:16 pm [[Oh, he kept his uniform?]] verdigrisprowl 9:17 pm ((i appreciate mr. fox subtly calling out how messed up the prison uniforms are)) SideswipeStriker 9:17 pm -snorts- NoodlesAtNight 9:17 pm ((same)) NoodlesAtNight 9:18 pm [[Do not drink it unless he does.]] SideswipeStriker 9:18 pm If he's smart he won't NoodlesAtNight 9:18 pm [[Rather a harsh punishment for bad joke telling.]] verdigrisprowl 9:19 pm *... suddenly huffs a laugh* NoodlesAtNight 9:19 pm *Glance and tilt.* NoodlesAtNight 9:20 pm *Oh, it IS Shockwave. Hmm.* verdigrisprowl 9:20 pm Ah—reminded me of—something Tarantulas did. NoodlesAtNight 9:20 pm [[Ah.]] SCProwl 9:21 pm Ugh. SideswipeStriker 9:22 pm ......... verdigrisprowl 9:22 pm That's some spectacular victim blaming. SideswipeStriker 9:22 pm Kid, up your acting skills NoodlesAtNight 9:22 pm [[Isn't it, though.]] [[Good youngling.]] SideswipeStriker 9:23 pm Good kid, bad idea verdigrisprowl 9:23 pm Good, but stupid. Agree with the killer while you're in the room, go home, work against him. NoodlesAtNight 9:24 pm [[He does have much to learn.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:24 pm She did something. verdigrisprowl 9:25 pm ... ugh. *more mind control* verdigrisprowl 9:26 pm They have no appreciate for the scientific process. The fact that he hasn't succeeded /yet/ doesn't mean he's failed. That's nonsense. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:27 pm ((he did)) MedicalMurdersaurus 9:27 pm ((of all the things to demand, I'm very entertained that's what she picked)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:28 pm ((to be fair, grilled cheese sandwiches are Tastey)) verdigrisprowl 9:28 pm ((on the one hand, the fact that she can control people to do her bidding is cool)) ((on the other hand, she's fish mooney. she already could do that.)) MedicalMurdersaurus 9:28 pm ((and goddamn is her hair perfect despite just being a corpse like half an hour ago)) SideswipeStriker 9:29 pm -back to silently watching the film- NoodlesAtNight 9:29 pm *...Quietly hopes she will get her claws on Hugo Strange. If she has it, at least she could do some good for everyone with it.* {{What DNA them give her, dragon?}} [[No, no. It is the suit she had before.]] MedicalMurdersaurus 9:29 pm *is a wiggly burrito who is having a hard time not bursting into sympathy flames* : > SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:30 pm Her face didn't burn, either. NoodlesAtNight 9:30 pm [[They did say she'd become fireproof last time we saw her.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:30 pm Although, I must say, /I'm/ not fireproof. MedicalMurdersaurus 9:30 pm Me SWOOP am fireproof!!! NoodlesAtNight 9:30 pm {{...Maybe you dragon get him Swoop power.}} SideswipeStriker 9:31 pm Oh nice verdigrisprowl 9:31 pm Oh look, probable cause. ... They're going to be blown up, aren't they. SideswipeStriker 9:31 pm Probably SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:31 pm I think I'd have to eat him to get his power, and I don't want to do that. verdigrisprowl 9:31 pm This police department has the highest mortality rate. NoodlesAtNight 9:31 pm [[It /is/ Gotham. He doesn't know many human cities with these kinds of superhumans in it.]] NoodlesAtNight 9:32 pm *Amused by Prowl's complete lack of faith in them, though.* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:32 pm ((I love this Bruce but he is going to be so obviously, blatantly Batman once that time comes.)) NoodlesAtNight 9:33 pm [[...How does Strange know? A mole? Not that he would be surpr-- what in the Pits is that.]] verdigrisprowl 9:33 pm ((jim goes "who are you?" and bruce growls "i'm batman" and jim goes ah god fuck bruce kid that's not even convincing)) NoodlesAtNight 9:33 pm [[Are they baking him...?]] SideswipeStriker 9:33 pm Um NoodlesAtNight 9:33 pm ((lmao)) verdigrisprowl 9:34 pm ((turtleneck)) NoodlesAtNight 9:34 pm [[His neck looks nothing like a turtle's.]] verdigrisprowl 9:34 pm ... I don't actually know what a turtle's neck looks like. SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:35 pm ((OH IT'S CLAYFACE)) NoodlesAtNight 9:35 pm [[Very wrinkly, shades of green, black, grey, and brown.]] ((YES IT IS 😀 )) MedicalMurdersaurus 9:35 pm ((This Riddler is so strong at some points and so wat at others.)) NoodlesAtNight 9:35 pm ((octopuses can mimic, after all)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:35 pm ((that took me a lil too long)) SideswipeStriker 9:35 pm Um.... SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:35 pm ((durr)) That is decidedly not how evolution works. SideswipeStriker 9:36 pm Okay, I'm a bit worried They're all nuts NoodlesAtNight 9:36 pm [[Well, yes.]] SideswipeStriker 9:37 pm ......right, asylum NoodlesAtNight 9:37 pm [[A human Makeshift, then.]] NoodlesAtNight 9:38 pm *As he suspected.* SideswipeStriker 9:38 pm No idea who Makeshift is, but damn SCProwl 9:38 pm Shapeshifter. SideswipeStriker 9:38 pm Good disguise SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:38 pm ((BRB, gotta restart computer. it is drunk)) SideswipeStriker 9:38 pm Oh! Nice. NoodlesAtNight 9:38 pm ((go go go good episode)) SideswipeStriker 9:39 pm Well shit NoodlesAtNight 9:39 pm *She stretches a feeler out to the rag filled with food and brings it close to herself for maximum munch.* MedicalMurdersaurus 9:39 pm ((My internet is so jumpy tonight I can barely watch. It's getting too crunchy. Everyone enjoy just having a swoop burrito asleep in the middle of Dancitron. Feel free to trip on him lol)) NoodlesAtNight 9:39 pm ((aaaaah okay ;; i'm so sorry)) MedicalMurdersaurus 9:39 pm ((later!)) NoodlesAtNight 9:40 pm *Oh, yes. Ravage told him about this. Hand available again.* verdigrisprowl 9:41 pm *shudders* *this time, he'll take it.* Arcee-Autobot 9:41 pm *Arcee Physically covered her face and winced* verdigrisprowl 9:41 pm *a needle in your neck that forces you to give up your secrets* NoodlesAtNight 9:41 pm *Squeezes it gently. Prowl can crush his hand as much as he needs for this.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:41 pm ((am back)) NoodlesAtNight 9:41 pm *Laserbeak pats Arcee.* ((wb)) SideswipeStriker 9:41 pm ......................... SideswipeStriker 9:42 pm -mutters- VERY good thing I came today SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:42 pm ((this is not a good jim)) NoodlesAtNight 9:42 pm ((one of my favorite things in any tv show/movie is an actor having to pretend to do a bad job of their own acting)) ((this episode is, therefore, utterly delightful)) verdigrisprowl 9:42 pm He's a very bad Gym. ((it's a delight)) NoodlesAtNight 9:42 pm [[For one thing, he smiles far too much.]] verdigrisprowl 9:43 pm And Gym would never say "he's connected to people we can't cross." He'd drive directly to those people's houses, and cross them. NoodlesAtNight 9:43 pm *Soft snort.* SideswipeStriker 9:43 pm From the sounds of the guy, he'd more run them OVER NoodlesAtNight 9:44 pm [[That is technically still crossing them. Just... more directly.]] verdigrisprowl 9:44 pm No, running them over wouldn't let him punch them in the face. SideswipeStriker 9:45 pm Fair enough, but damn he'd not say that NoodlesAtNight 9:45 pm [[She is a living being.]] SideswipeStriker 9:46 pm She's kinda...uh....wow SCProwl 9:46 pm Scientists like her and Strange don't care. *the Shockwave is implied* NoodlesAtNight 9:46 pm *Approves of Penguin's trophy-keeping habit.* SideswipeStriker 9:46 pm That's decaying verdigrisprowl 9:46 pm ((i think this is the only moment i've ever liked barbara)) SideswipeStriker 9:46 pm Be better if it wasn't NoodlesAtNight 9:46 pm [[He's a criminal overlord, not a taxidermist.]] SideswipeStriker 9:47 pm ......true NoodlesAtNight 9:47 pm [[Yes. Yes, it was, Jim.]] *Bristles at this "imagine I am god" business* verdigrisprowl 9:48 pm *squeezes* NoodlesAtNight 9:48 pm *Squeezes back.* SideswipeStriker 9:48 pm So. I don't like him NoodlesAtNight 9:48 pm [[He does not blame you.]] NoodlesAtNight 9:49 pm [[...This is an intriguing question.]] verdigrisprowl 9:49 pm Well, NOW he's heard of a secret council. SideswipeStriker 9:50 pm ...... SCProwl 9:50 pm I doubt Strange intends to let him live. NoodlesAtNight 9:50 pm [[It sounds as though you are correct.]] verdigrisprowl 9:50 pm Ah, fair. SideswipeStriker 9:51 pm -huffs- NoodlesAtNight 9:51 pm [[Oh, that is cruel.]] *He wanted to know.* verdigrisprowl 9:51 pm I think Strange gave us the answer. NoodlesAtNight 9:51 pm [[Well, yes. But he wants to know who this masked council IS.]] NoodlesAtNight 9:52 pm [[If they control Gotham, they do a terrible job of it.]] verdigrisprowl 9:52 pm I doubt he'd have told Add. SideswipeStriker 9:52 pm Um..... NoodlesAtNight 9:52 pm [[Probably not, no.]] *That is some Disappointment tone.* [[He must have hit the wrong button.]] SideswipeStriker 9:53 pm Pffff NoodlesAtNight 9:53 pm [[So do it. He wants to know.]] verdigrisprowl 9:54 pm ((i could make that mask)) NoodlesAtNight 9:54 pm ((they're gorgeous masks)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:55 pm ((lmao very very bad jim)) SideswipeStriker 9:55 pm Heh NoodlesAtNight 9:55 pm ((COMPLICATED POLICE BUSINESS)) SideswipeStriker 9:56 pm Disguise ain't good if you don't have the facts to back it up verdigrisprowl 9:56 pm I suppose the disguise only needs to work for a few hours. SCProwl 9:56 pm *huffs* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:57 pm *snickers* NoodlesAtNight 9:57 pm [[He didn't deny it.]] =She is good cat, for a human.= SideswipeStriker 9:57 pm True verdigrisprowl 9:58 pm *moving people like cargo.* SideswipeStriker 9:58 pm And.....holy shit. verdigrisprowl 9:59 pm *why is there always MORE of this stuff?* *why does the quantity never decrease? one person stops being mind-controlled and a new person learns to mind control. it never ends. prowl can't stand it.* SpecsTheSpectralDragon 9:59 pm She's going to eat him alive. SideswipeStriker 9:59 pm -because this series hates Prowl and anyone that went through what he has- verdigrisprowl 10:00 pm ((she didn't even mind control the other orderlies. they're just like "yeah okay we're following patient 13 now i guess")) NoodlesAtNight 10:01 pm ((they get paid either way, what do they care lol)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:01 pm ((to be fair, if Strange was my boss...)) SideswipeStriker 10:01 pm ((true enough NoodlesAtNight 10:02 pm *At least they have a vague idea something's wrong here.* *Too bad they think it's because he's ill.* SideswipeStriker 10:02 pm -heavy sigh- verdigrisprowl 10:03 pm Is she going to be the one who figures it out. Ah. NoodlesAtNight 10:03 pm [[...Oh, that is disgusting.]] [[At least /someone/ worked it out.]] SideswipeStriker 10:04 pm Hoooo boy NoodlesAtNight 10:05 pm ((i love that shot)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:05 pm ((fight! fight! fight! fight!)) SideswipeStriker 10:05 pm ((it's awesome SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:05 pm Oh, dear. He's dead. SideswipeStriker 10:05 pm HOLY SLAG verdigrisprowl 10:05 pm ((damn, i was looking in another window)) SideswipeStriker 10:05 pm Buddy, he ain't wakin' up NoodlesAtNight 10:05 pm ((i'll screencap it in a bit)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:06 pm Huh. He's /not/ dead. NoodlesAtNight 10:06 pm [[No doubt he is not well, at least.]] SideswipeStriker 10:07 pm WHAT SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:07 pm FAIRLY LOW IS NOT A GOOD ANSWER NoodlesAtNight 10:07 pm [[...He must be very scared of this council if that is his answer.]] SideswipeStriker 10:07 pm Hooooooly shit SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:08 pm ((lmao "fair enough")) verdigrisprowl 10:08 pm Don't say "just do it," "there's going to be a radioactive explosion if you don't" is a perfectly good explanation. SideswipeStriker 10:08 pm Good answer verdigrisprowl 10:08 pm What do you have against giving a normal, reasonable explanation. NoodlesAtNight 10:08 pm [[A temper?]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:08 pm Huh, the riddling human is as clever as before. NoodlesAtNight 10:09 pm [[Why would he not be?]] verdigrisprowl 10:09 pm ... Would pushing the red button again pause it. SideswipeStriker 10:09 pm Or it could set it off. NoodlesAtNight 10:10 pm [[Likely not. Large red buttons tend to be... final.]] *Nods in agreement with Sideswipe* *VERY scared, if he's not even running after all his self-preservation behavior* verdigrisprowl 10:10 pm They took the time to lock him up again? Why? SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:10 pm ...I feel like that should not work. NoodlesAtNight 10:10 pm [[He can't imagine they want him running around again.]] NoodlesAtNight 10:11 pm [[--Oh!]] *Huffing* SideswipeStriker 10:11 pm HAH Oh man, the luck on those two verdigrisprowl 10:12 pm Nobody's here, he can just climb out the vents again. NoodlesAtNight 10:12 pm [[Perhaps he will, when he calms down?]] verdigrisprowl 10:12 pm He'll have to do it fast, police are swarming the compound now. SideswipeStriker 10:13 pm Um.... NoodlesAtNight 10:14 pm [[That car is too small to win a game of cryochicken.]] verdigrisprowl 10:14 pm A moment of silence for the cop car that's about to get flattened. SideswipeStriker 10:14 pm That's an armored bus BAD IDEA NoodlesAtNight 10:14 pm [[But a valiant car nonetheless.]] [[Well. Human.]] SideswipeStriker 10:14 pm -winces- SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:15 pm *oof* SideswipeStriker 10:15 pm Oh, that's right, she used to be his boss SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:15 pm He shot her in the knee. He also shot the Penguin human in the knee, though. NoodlesAtNight 10:16 pm [[So much for loyalty.]] *Pause.* [[But then, he supposes he would be disturbed by an undead version of his bosses.]] SideswipeStriker 10:16 pm Yeah, I'd be running too verdigrisprowl 10:16 pm Did he know she'd supposedly died? I thought she was... off by herself when that happened. SideswipeStriker 10:16 pm ....ish NoodlesAtNight 10:17 pm [[He knew. He was there when Penguin pushed her over the cliff wall.]] SideswipeStriker 10:17 pm Kid is going diggin verdigrisprowl 10:18 pm ... Didn't she survive that and end up on that island? He's made too many attempts on her life, I can't keep track. I don't remember which one actually killed her. SideswipeStriker 10:18 pm Um.... NoodlesAtNight 10:18 pm [[No, no. The island was before that. She came back, attempted a coup, and was killed.]] SideswipeStriker 10:18 pm Oh no NoodlesAtNight 10:18 pm [[...Oh, this won't be good.]] SideswipeStriker 10:18 pm Lady, RUN verdigrisprowl 10:19 pm ((they'd BETTER be nice to her, she let them out)) SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:19 pm ((no good deed goes unpunished)) NoodlesAtNight 10:19 pm [[....What.]] SideswipeStriker 10:19 pm WHAT verdigrisprowl 10:20 pm ((GOOD. they were nice to her.)) NoodlesAtNight 10:20 pm [[Well. Now he has TWO things he wants to know.]] SpecsTheSpectralDragon 10:20 pm *the dragon stretches* Thank you for movie night, Soundwave! SCProwl 10:20 pm Only two? NoodlesAtNight 10:20 pm [[You are welcome, dragon.]] [[Well. Two /main/ things. He always wants to know much, much more than that.]] SideswipeStriker 10:20 pm The mimic thing, guy, wasn't on the bus! NoodlesAtNight 10:20 pm ((time marker, 10:41)) [[Of course not. He had already gotten out to play Jim.]] SideswipeStriker 10:21 pm The what was that? NoodlesAtNight 10:21 pm [[He has not the faintest idea.]] verdigrisprowl 10:22 pm Maybe there were two. NoodlesAtNight 10:22 pm [[...Actually - he does wonder. The Loeb human kept his daughter hidden because he did not want anyone to know about her. Perhaps this is the case with this human? Bruce's father already kept secrets.]] verdigrisprowl 10:22 pm Secret twin? SCProwl 10:22 pm A clone or a twin. NoodlesAtNight 10:22 pm [[Perhaps?]] SideswipeStriker 10:22 pm Huh Could work NoodlesAtNight 10:23 pm [[Then again, he did seem pleased with Basil's ability. Perhaps they /did/ make another shapeshifter. It would be useful.]] *Tapping his fingers.* SCProwl 10:23 pm Though them being a twin seems to go against everything we've heard about Bruce's father. SideswipeStriker 10:23 pm Soooo a clone verdigrisprowl 10:23 pm Maybe the twin was kidnapped at birth and Brace's parents were told the second one died. SCProwl 10:24 pm That is a possibility. SideswipeStriker 10:24 pm Wouldn't they want to see the body at least? NoodlesAtNight 10:24 pm [[He /has/ heard stories of humans kidnapping offspring while still in the hospital.]] [[Oh, that is a good point too... of course, a Gotham hospital /would/ be so corrupt as to find a way to lie about it.]] verdigrisprowl 10:25 pm ((until i find out who he is, i'm dubbing him Woose Brain.)) NoodlesAtNight 10:25 pm [[Surely not /every/ human newbuild survives...]]

((omg)) SideswipeStriker 10:25 pm But against a couple like the Waynes? NoodlesAtNight 10:25 pm [[Why not? Strange kept secrets from him.]] [[And was his best friend.]] verdigrisprowl 10:25 pm Worth millions in hostage fees down the line. SideswipeStriker 10:25 pm -huffs- True SideswipeStriker 10:26 pm Forgot this is Strange we're talkin' about Arcee-Autobot 10:26 pm [[ Im currently Video chatting with a New Knockout Page, so Knockout says Hello!]] NoodlesAtNight 10:27 pm ((hi knockout!)) [[That is a long, long term game for a human. The hostage fees. It would be most impressive... and within Strange's ability to scheme, he'd think.]] SCProwl 10:28 pm Well, I suppose we'll find out eventually if you show more recordings of that universe. NoodlesAtNight 10:29 pm [[He thinks he would like to, as... mm, aggravating as some things about it can be, sometimes. He really would like to find out how deep this conspiracy goes.]] SideswipeStriker 10:30 pm Same here SCProwl 10:30 pm Agreed. Either way, I need to be getting back. Good night, everyone. SideswipeStriker 10:30 pm 'night! NoodlesAtNight 10:30 pm *"Aggravating" being polite term for "all this damn mind control", and all.* [[Ah. Goodnight.]] SideswipeStriker 10:30 pm Annnnnd on that note, I gotta get goin' myself SideswipeStriker 10:31 pm Later! NoodlesAtNight 10:31 pm [[Very well. Tell Blaster and Sunstreaker hello for him, would you?]] Arcee-Autobot 10:32 pm *Arcee is still very much Here, and Enjoying a cold drink* NoodlesAtNight 10:33 pm *She may be if she wishes - for another eight minutes, at least.* [[You have been gone quite a while. No great threats to your timeline, he hopes...?]] Arcee-Autobot 10:34 pm No great threats I promise Arcee-Autobot 10:35 pm Just Knockout constantly asking for my attention 😅 NoodlesAtNight 10:36 pm [[Hm. Can't reach a spot on his back with his buffer, he expects.]] Arcee-Autobot 10:37 pm Exactly correct actually but now its handled NoodlesAtNight 10:38 pm [[Good, good. The Doctor can be temperamental when he isn't in tip top shape.]] NoodlesAtNight 10:39 pm [[But now, he must close for the night. There is much cleaning to do.]] *Stares at Swoop's soot marks.* [[Much, much cleaning.]] Arcee-Autobot 10:39 pm *Arcee will have to go soon, but wouldn't mind if anyone wished to invade her Ask box* verdigrisprowl 10:39 pm I'll help. NoodlesAtNight 10:39 pm *Perhaps he will do so soon. He's been Quiet lately.* [[Ah, thank you, Prowl.]] verdigrisprowl 10:39 pm *"""lately"""* Arcee-Autobot 10:40 pm Alright I'm going to go, See you both Later NoodlesAtNight 10:40 pm *Listen here, you.* [[Farewell, Arcee. He hopes you will attend again soon.]] verdigrisprowl 10:40 pm *LISTEN TO WHAT* *vague farewell nod to arcee* NoodlesAtNight 10:41 pm *LOOK, HE TALKS IN HEADS. IT COUNTS.* [[Thank you for your offer of assistance. The day the Autobots in that timeline ever teach Swoop manners is the day he will have to retire.]] NoodlesAtNight 10:42 pm *Vents and stretches feelers back to get rags and a spray bottle of solvent to get to work on the floor. From a sitting down position for the moment, because he'll let Prowl decide when to get up.* verdigrisprowl 10:43 pm *he was about to head for them himself. He thought he was going to clean the floor. apparently not.* ... Who's doing what? NoodlesAtNight 10:44 pm [[He thought he should tackle the graffiti soot, as he did draw in it himself as well. If you would like to handle the furniture...? He is certain you have seen him put the pieces back more than enough times to track where they go - and likely better than his own deployers, at that.]] verdigrisprowl 10:46 pm Yyyyes, I know where they go. *can he LIFT them is the question. how much of a load can a holomatter avatar carry. how heavy are the chairs.* NoodlesAtNight 10:47 pm *Soundwave pauses mid scrubbing motion.* [[Hesitation?]] *Prowl doesn't usually elongate a sound like that.* verdigrisprowl 10:48 pm ... I don't know if I can lift them. *TIME TO FIND OUT* NoodlesAtNight 10:49 pm [[...Oh. He never thought of that.]] *He stops to watch, curious as anything now.* *The couches are fairly heavy, but the tables and individual chairs shouldn't be too bad. It's not as though he ever needs to use the Tyton-sized ones for these nights, after all.* verdigrisprowl 10:50 pm *he'll start small and work up. tables first.* NoodlesAtNight 10:51 pm *Brings a hand up to rest his chin on his knuckles. Nothing wrong with a good bit of observing a handsome mech in action.* verdigrisprowl 10:52 pm *he's a couple tables in when he realizes that he may, in fact, actually be slowing productivity down.* ... So far so good. NoodlesAtNight 10:53 pm *...Oh! Oh. Yes. He should. He should be productive, shouldn't he. While he watches. He was supposed to learn that lesson last week, after - er. After that conversation.*

*So he'll keep his optics on Prowl and scrub at the soot again. There we go.* NoodlesAtNight 10:54 pm [[What happens if you cannot lift it in your avatar state? Does it--]] *Wiggles the fingers under his chin.* [[Slide through your hands, or...?]] verdigrisprowl 10:55 pm If an avatar is hit with a load that will shatter it, it turns off and reboots. I suspect trying to lift something too big for it to support will yield the same results, although I haven't tried. NoodlesAtNight 10:56 pm [[...We could find out. Unless the shattering is painful.]] verdigrisprowl 10:56 pm Only a little. verdigrisprowl 10:57 pm Anyway, I'm about to find out one way or another. *he's about to the couches.* NoodlesAtNight 10:58 pm *Scrubs faster in anticipation and leans forward. That floor is going to be SHINY clean with how productive he's trying to be to make up for his distraction.* verdigrisprowl 10:58 pm *surveys a couch criticially. circles it once. hmmm.* verdigrisprowl 10:59 pm *crouches down and attempts to lift it from the middle. nope. not moving.* *moves to one side and tries to lift the end. it barely lifts. sets it back down.* *regards it contemplatively.* NoodlesAtNight 11:00 pm *Oh, this is damned thrilling. It's like a movie. Will he lift it or won't he? It's ridiculous and such a little thing but Soundwave just Has To Know.* verdigrisprowl 11:00 pm *heAVES UP THE END* verdigrisprowl 11:01 pm *his avatar pops and resets, standing up, a few feet away. the couch crashes back down.* Hm. ... Sorry. NoodlesAtNight 11:02 pm *Soundwave lets out a long vent and collapses back against the couch he's currently sitting on, disappointed and yet not at all.* [[Do not be. Now he knows, and that is his favorite thing.]] verdigrisprowl 11:02 pm No no, I meant for dropping it. I'm not done. NoodlesAtNight 11:02 pm [[Oh, and he has gotten all the soo--]] *Sits up again and peers at the couch.* [[You're not done?]] verdigrisprowl 11:02 pm No. verdigrisprowl 11:03 pm *another moment of quiet calculation.* NoodlesAtNight 11:03 pm *Debates getting up to clean something else. ... One feeler to grab himself a snack while the other one puts the rest of the fuel away. He's right here munching and mesmerized.* *He does so love having extra limbs at times like this. Especially ones that do their own seeing.* verdigrisprowl 11:03 pm *then he scales up to 41 feet and... 3.2 inches.* NoodlesAtNight 11:04 pm [[Primus--]] *Oh no, he's hot. Ter.* verdigrisprowl 11:04 pm *the couch is MUCH easier to lift now* *sets it in place, and shrinks back down.* Yeah, I didn't like that. NoodlesAtNight 11:05 pm [[That's - it's quite all right. It's fine. You do not have to do it again. Though it was - impressive.]] verdigrisprowl 11:05 pm New plan. NoodlesAtNight 11:06 pm *Faintly, and bordering on hysteria* [[New plan?]] *Prowl's going to kill him. This is a murder attempt.* verdigrisprowl 11:06 pm *a space bridge opens underneath one couch. rather than the couch falling through the bridge, the bridge lifts up around the couch, until the couch has disappeared and the bridge shuts off.* verdigrisprowl 11:07 pm *the process is repeated where the couch is supposed to go, except this time the couch is emerging from the bottom of the bridge instead of disappearing into the top.* *ta da. didn't even drop.* NoodlesAtNight 11:07 pm *Stares. Openly. With a tee tiny o shape to his mouth.* NoodlesAtNight 11:08 pm [[...Why has he never thought of that?]] verdigrisprowl 11:08 pm Probably because you can lift them yourself. verdigrisprowl 11:09 pm *gets to work neatly banishing and re-summoning the remaining couches, one by one* NoodlesAtNight 11:09 pm [[Oh. Yes, he - he can, yes. That does make sense.]] *He'd be more composed there but he's watching Prowl pull this stunt multiple times, and damned if he isn't happy that he helped Prowl with what little bit Prowl didn't already figure out on his own. What a brilliant, creative mech his Prowl is.* verdigrisprowl 11:11 pm *and the deed is finished.* *looks at soundwave.* *completely deadpan:* Trap doors. NoodlesAtNight 11:12 pm *Slooooowly slides his face into the hand that was supporting his chin* verdigrisprowl 11:12 pm *proud* NoodlesAtNight 11:13 pm *Three affection pings. Even if he's quietly puffing into his skinny stick fingers while he does it.* verdigrisprowl 11:13 pm *ping ping ping* NoodlesAtNight 11:14 pm [[When should he expect--]] *Deep vent in. Come on, pull yourself together.* [[When should he expect your transfer to the arts and entertainment sector?]] verdigrisprowl 11:15 pm *barks a laugh* verdigrisprowl 11:16 pm When two plus two equals five. NoodlesAtNight 11:20 pm [[Pity. You would probably be a popular stage act here with some of the skills you've shown him over the years.]] *Finally gets up to offer a tiny bit of clapping and then finish up the bar cleanup.* [[But, you are an enforcer at spark, and who you are at spark is who he likes best. He will simply have to enjoy your juggling, balancing, and bridging in private.]] verdigrisprowl 11:21 pm *stops and thinks about that* ... I /do/ have enough tricks for a stage show. NoodlesAtNight 11:22 pm [[You do. You've never thought about that?]] verdigrisprowl 11:23 pm I can't say I've ever contemplated putting on a stage show, so no. NoodlesAtNight 11:25 pm *Nods. He's not that surprised by it.* [[Well, at least you know you have another potential cover should you ever have to be part of a big operation somewhere.]] verdigrisprowl 11:26 pm The ruse would fall apart the moment I opened my mouth. I do not have the demeanor of an entertainer. NoodlesAtNight 11:28 pm [[/That,/]] *waving one of the last snacks he's putting away before popping a piece in his mouth* [[is what long-distance audio broadcasts are for. Besides - there have been plenty of silent actors and entertainers. Some of the old human Earth ones he's seen you enjoy, even.]] verdigrisprowl 11:29 pm I do not have enough mobile parts in my face, much less the knowledge on how to use them, to be a Harpo. NoodlesAtNight 11:31 pm *Lightly dismissive gesture.* [[Masks only add to the mystery. But, he does not mean to push - only to offer ideas. If they do not suit you, they do not suit you, and that is as it is. Besides, there are already artists and entertainers in this building. A police officer - now that is a very different thing.]] *That is a very wide grin. He knows how shady they can be, and he knows Prowl knows too.* NoodlesAtNight 11:32 pm [[Thank you for moving the furniture. It was a welcome display of persistence and intellect.]] verdigrisprowl 11:32 pm It was also slow. It'll be faster next week. NoodlesAtNight 11:33 pm [[Oh? You mean to do that again, then?]] *Chews on that thought a moment.* [[Perhaps he'll trade a few of the pieces around from where they usually are on movie nights. Give you a bit of a game.]] verdigrisprowl 11:34 pm ... I'm trying to help you clean. I��I think we might have lost sight of that objective. NoodlesAtNight 11:35 pm [[There's no reason we can't enjoy the cleaning we do. It's certainly a mood lightener after half of Swoop's messes.]] NoodlesAtNight 11:36 pm [[In any case, it's clean in here now. The objective was completed.]] verdigrisprowl 11:37 pm Eventually, yes. I wouldn't call it a job well done, but at least it's a job done. NoodlesAtNight 11:38 pm [[It will do. He is coming to accept the realization that the first floor of his club will only be spotless from Tuesday nights through Friday afternoons.]] verdigrisprowl 11:40 pm ... Next week you'll be less distracted and I'll be faster. *he wants you to have that spotless club, soundwave* NoodlesAtNight 11:42 pm [[Oh, it isn't your fault. It is the nature of the general company he keeps. But he appreciates that. He is sure that between us, we will get as close to that as is possible.]] *You're so sweet, Prowl. Also, you can probably see why he tends to keep the apartment as close to sparkling as possible.* verdigrisprowl 11:43 pm It's not my fault, but it doesn't mean I can't help. NoodlesAtNight 11:44 pm *And helpful. Sweet and helpful. A proper good cop in the works if ever he saw one.* [[Thank you for that.]] *Offers a bunt?* verdigrisprowl 11:45 pm *he will lean in to accept it* NoodlesAtNight 11:47 pm *Bump. ... And quick affectionate nip. He just - has a lot of things he thinks and feels but cannot say, even if he /is/ the one of them that manages to talk about such things with less trouble.* NoodlesAtNight 11:48 pm [[So, then. What do you care to do with the rest of your evening? More bridging tricks? Rest? Ticket writing for Swoop's soot?]] *Curious tilt.* verdigrisprowl 11:48 pm *... he's gonna lean into that, too.* NoodlesAtNight 11:48 pm *Oh, oh, that's lovely. Good. Good.* verdigrisprowl 11:49 pm *that may end up being the answer to Soundwave's question.* NoodlesAtNight 11:51 pm *Oh! Well, then. He'll test tugging Prowl up closer to see if he can get away with settling his hands on those hip lights and nibbling again. Have to make sure. Good communications officers always double-check their work.* verdigrisprowl 11:53 pm *soundwave will be pleased to learn that he can, in fact, get away with all of the above, provided Prowl is allowed to get his hands around Soundwave's waist and find some biolights to trace* NoodlesAtNight 11:55 pm *Pleased isn't the word for it, but if it were? Yes. Yes, he is. And so is Prowl. Best they be left to that in peace - only one person here is a spy, after all. It'd be rude to step on such a fine, upstanding professional's toes.* verdigrisprowl 11:56 pm *indeed it would. a little privacy, then.*

#chat

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kpopfanfictrash · 7 years

Text

Row AQ

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Yoongi (Suga)

Genre: Fluff / Humor

Prompt: “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.” + Library!AU

Rating: PG

Word Count: 2,955

Someone wrote in the book.

Slamming the cover shut, you glare at the deadened library before you. The place is empty, nothing but vacant tables and books as far as the eye can see.

Plopping down in your chair, you sullenly scroll through your laptop and sigh. The book is Kerouac – On the Road, which is an ostentatiously male read. This is the main reason you assume the defacer is male, although the handwriting alone might be enough to identify that fact. Bold scribbles in the margins, notes about the book and life in general. Which would be fine, if this were his book, but it is not.

Rather sadly, you brush the book’s spine. Without thinking, you flip the book open to page 114. This is where the writer apparently lost steam, for the notes end here. It’s the beginning of Part II, where Sal and Dean are discussing a dream Sal had. They converse briefly on the idea of longing for death. Written in the margin is:

It’s interesting... they say they want nothing to do with death, and yet their lifestyle is a contradiction of this. Bright and burning, ferocious and reckless. Is living like this an attempt to keep death at bay, or draw it closer? After all, what’s more alive than to look death in the face and know you’re not?

Lowering the book, you stare into space for a moment.

Perhaps the most annoying part of the whole situation is how intriguing the vandal’s comments are; how thoughtful and intelligent he seems to be. Second most annoying is that the notes are penned in a jarring shade of blue ink. The color lends further to the insult and, gritting your teeth, you push the book aside.

It’s the guy’s audacity which really irks you. The fact that he assumed everyone would want to read his thoughts.

What’s even more annoying is he didn’t even check the book out. When you looked up the last owner, you saw Rosie Garcell. She checked the book out four months ago, despite On the Road being found out of place yesterday.

It’s not only On the Road, either – you found similar notes in Hamlet and The Importance of Being Earnest; big, giant HA’s written across the pages of the latter. At least the guy finds Cecily as annoying as you do, although you suppose that’s kind of the point. The guy flat out screams in the margins in one spot, which made you laugh. Only briefly, before you caught yourself.

Rosie Garcell never checked out The Importance of Being Earnest though, which means the vandal isn’t her. It’s someone else removing the books from their shelves, marking them in bright blue ink and putting them back. You just need to find out who and make them stop.

At least, now you know what book the vandal is on. Staring at On the Road, you contemplate whether or not to act. On the one hand, you really want to let them know you’re onto them. On the other hand, if you do what you’re thinking, it’d make you complicit in their public destruction.

Exhaling deeply, you set the book down on the table. Flipping to page 114 and staring at the last note, you cast a quick glance around the room and lower your pen.

Honestly. What are you doing, defacing library books? Buy your own copy if you want to wax poetic.

You frown at the words, re-reading and wondering if they’re threatening enough. Or possibly they’re too threatening. This is your first conversation, after all. Shaking your head, you decide you’re over-thinking things again.

Before you can stop myself though, you add:

Thanks, and hope you have a nice day.

Placing your pen back in your pocket, you glance at the empty library. Walking quickly to row AQ, where On the Road was found, you shove the book back into place and wipe your now-sweaty palms on your pants. Hopefully, the vandal won’t take long to reply.

They don’t.

The very next night, you check Row AQ for an update before sitting down at your desk. On the Road is visible, its red jacket prominent and your heart starts to pound, walking down the aisle. You didn’t shelve it sticking out so far. Grabbing its spine, you gasp when you see an earmarked page.

Page 196, and beside the page marker is a note.

Hello, either A) righteous library worker or B) concerned citizen who’s wandered in from the streets. It’s good to see you’re taking an interest in the public library system. I, too, wish I could buy my own copy but unfortunately, I’m flat-out broke. Skint, penniless, no coin in my threadbare pockets.

That said, it was kind – if somewhat odd – of you to wish me a nice day, so I’ll do the same.

P.S. What did you think of Sal and Dean’s conversation? Do you see the lure of death? Personally, I think it’d be kind of fun to haunt someone.

You almost laugh, but catch yourself just in time. This punk – he has some nerve to try and be funny in this kind of situation. Despite this, you find myself smiling as you walk down the aisle.

Battling the guilt of removing a book from its row, you bring the book to your desk and sit to re-read the vandal’s words. The library is busier than usual tonight, so it’s a long while before you can lay your pen to paper.

Hello, sir.

You are a sir, aren’t you? If you’re female and I’ve assumed wrongly based on your handwriting – I do apologize. It’s fine that you’re broke, but why do you have to write in the margins? You can just read! Control your ink.

Interesting though, that you think it’d be fun to haunt someone because WRITE IN THE MARGIANS AGAIN and if I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.

P.S. I did agree with your general thoughts on the conversation.

Quickly shutting the book, you wonder what the hell you’re doing.

You’re an upstanding citizen. You volunteer, work part-time around your college courses and always, always pay your credit card bill on time. You’re not a chronic margin-writer and yet, here you are on your bathroom break, sliding the book into its new spot at the end of row AQ.

Returning to your desk, you wonder if this guy visits the library in the morning. It must be a time other than your shift, since you never seem to see him. Or, maybe he’s sitting here right now. Scanning the room, you narrow my eyes and try to identify the culprit.

A woman stands at the water fountain; you watch her pile three books on top of the ledge before taking a drink. You wince at the thought of them falling before moving on to the next person. Behind her sits a girl and boy. Neither one of them have pens with them though, and both seem immersed in their books, so you keep looking.

One by one, you cross off every person in the library. Sinking lower in your seat to swivel around, you know this is silly, yet your gaze continues to drift in the direction of the stacks. There’s nothing to do now but wait, and it is with this mindset the night passes.

The next day, you fairly run from your lecture hall. Catching the bus in record time, you sprint from the steps and nearly bowl over the lone guy who stands in line for the bus. Shoulder hitting his, you spin to jog backwards.

“Sorry!” you yell, wincing when the guy doesn’t look. “Really!”

Nodding once, the guy adjusts his black beanie and climbs onto the bus. Over his shoulder, he waves a hand to acknowledge he’s fine. Shrugging, you hike your bag higher and open the library doors.

First, you wander the room, glancing at every face before reaching row AQ. It’s disappointing when you find the book already there. You’d been half-hoping to catch whoever it is in the act.

Tugging the book from the shelf, it falls open in your hand.

Yes, I’m a guy and although I don’t object to being called sir, Yoongi will do. I’m offended you’d ask me to stop writing. Ask me not to breathe, ask me not to speak, but never deprive me of words.

You’ll haunt my ass? For uh, scientific reasons… are you a girl or a guy?

P.S. Also – just out of curiosity, which notes of mine stuck out?

Your heart pounds, probably from running so fast. As you firmly shut the book, you realize today’s page is 215. Either, Yoongi didn’t have as much time to read, or he’s reading slower than usual. The realization makes you wonder if he’s enjoying the exchange as much as you are, and attempting to stretch out our conversation.

Glancing at your watch, you notice the time. 4:05 PM – damn, you’re late. Dashing back to the front, you studiously avoid meeting your boss’ gaze. It’s not like you can explain where you’ve been, or what you’ve been doing. Your pen itches to write Yoongi back but again, the library is busy tonight.

You end up preoccupied nearly until close, helping students to find books, returning old ones to shelves: cataloguing, indexing and checking people in. Finally, around 10:00 PM, you explain to your boss you need to return one more book to its shelf.

Returning to row AQ, you squat behind the shelves. Scribbling furiously to Yoongi, you write on page 215.

I am a girl, my name is Y/N. I’ll be sure to respect your boundaries when I’m haunting you. I do want to apologize though, for telling you to stop writing. In all honesty – despite the delinquency of method – the notes you wrote were rather beautiful.

P.S. I have a lot of favorites

The next day, you manage to work for nearly a half-hour before allowing yourself to check the shelf. You half-jog to row AQ, yanking On the Road from it’s hiding place on the shelf.

Page 217 has been bookmarked and you laugh, realizing yes, Yoongi is reading slower on purpose.

Hi Y/N,

You work here, don’t you? You must, since you keep calling me all sorts of rude things for doodling in the margins. What’s your favorite book? I’ll read that one next. If… I can ever finish this book, that is. Page 216 was tough to get through. It took me an entire day.

P.S. Please tell me? I’ll tell you something in return.

Exhaling softly, you try and suppress your excitement. You don’t know Yoongi, you remind yourself. It makes absolutely no sense to be so interested in what he has to say.

The library is rather empty tonight, though, so you quickly pull out your ballpoint pen and settle down on the floor. You’ve been writing in black ink throughout the book, in contrast to Yoongi’s blue-colored notes.

I only call you names you deserve, Yoongi.

Defacer, graffitist, criminal, thug, ruffian, delinquent – I could go on, but this is only a 300 page novel. Defacing books is the highest form of crime, in my opinion. My favorite book is The Importance of Being Earnest – but I saw you wrote notes in the margins of that one already.

P.S. What secret would you tell me?

The next night, on page 218:

Y/N, I think you’re forgetting one, very important detail and that is – you’re ALSO writing in this book! You’re a defacer, a graffitist, a criminal, a ruffian, a delinquent – well, I can’t quite say thug. Although, if you want me to call you a thug, far be it from me to crush your dreams.

P.S. If you tell me what your favorite note is, I’ll tell you something I haven’t told anyone

The conversation has been going on for over a week.

Rereading Yoongi’s last note, you lean your head to the wall. You feel as if you know him, which sounds silly. You don’t know this Yoongi. You don’t know anything real about him, beyond his pen and his ink and his words but somehow, this feels like enough.

Yoongi.

I like your name – did I tell you that? It’d be nice to hear you say it aloud. Fine, I’ll tell you my favorite, but I expect a very incriminating secret in return.

P.S. “Breathing is easy, but living is hard. When people ask about your life, they never ask about your temperature, your last meal, or how well you slept. They ask about your sweat, your thoughts and your actions. I want my actions to count.”

Setting down your pen, you stare at his quote.

You didn’t even need to reference the words; you’d already memorized them. It’s an annotation Yoongi wrote in Part I of On the Road. It had struck you at the time, part of the reason you kept flipping pages. Most people write dutifully, a train of thought which rarely amounts anything. Not Yoongi.

Returning the book to its shelf, you wonder if this is what you wanted all along. To know more about the man who wrote such beautiful words.

The entire bus ride home, you stare out the window. It’d be nice if you were courageous enough to do something like leave Yoongi your number. The idea of it brings heat to your cheeks and again, you tell myself you don’t know him. Yoongi could be seventy years old, or not interested in women, or an ax murderer. Leaning your head to the glass, you continue to stare at the streets which pass by.

Realizing something, you straighten in your seat. There’s an easy solution to all this. You could simply go to the library early. You could camp by the shelf and wait for Yoongi to appear. Even if you decide not to speak to him, at least you’d know what he looks like. Mind made up, your eyelids flutter shut. Tomorrow, you’ll head into work early.

The next morning, you skip class. Heart racing, you duck in the side door of the library, scared someone will recognize you and call out your name. It’d be awkward for Yoongi to recognize you before you can recognize him. Wandering further in, you choose a table directly facing Row AQ. I wait. Pulling out your binders, you pretend to study when in actuality, you’re peering over your book at the shelves.

No one comes.

Minutes, hours pass and you sit there in silence, growing more and more impatient. Maybe Yoongi comes to the library later than you originally thought. Possibly he leaves before 4:00 pm (the start of my shift), but arrives after – you glance at your watch and feel your heart sink. 3:30. You must have missed him. Or, maybe Yoongi just isn’t coming by today.

Wearily, you stand and begin gathering your things. Halfheartedly, you decide to check the book but are halfway down the aisle when you notice it’s gone. Nearly tripping over yourself in your haste to be closer, your hands brush the shelves, but there’s nothing to find.

High and low, you search for a book that’s not there. Groaning out loud, you run a hand through your hair. The only thing you can think is someone on the library staff rearranged the shelves before your arrival.

That, or Yoongi moved the book.

Warily, you consider this option. Yoongi hasn’t come in yet today, he hasn’t left you a note. Maybe your last note was too much and you scared him off. Maybe, Yoongi could tell that you liked him – maybe he saw you’re enamored with a total stranger, completely freaking him out, so he ran.

Swallowing hard, you realize it’s almost time for your shift. Holding your things tightly to your chest, you berate myself for imagining this to be more. It’s not as though you and Yoongi are friends, it’s not like you were actually flirting.

Still, his notes have become the highlight of your week and the thought of their absence pains you more than you can articulate.

Rounding the corner, your feet come to a stop. You stare, confused by the sight of On the Road placed in the middle of your desk. The cover is unmistakable, bright red and completely out of place. Slowly, you lower your bag to the ground, taking a step forward and running a finger along its spine.

You notice the last page has been folded and when you open the book, your heart starts to race.

I haven’t told anyone this yet, but I’m falling for a girl I’ve never met.

Someone clears his throat from behind and you whirl, nearly dropping the book in the process.

A guy stands several feet away, staring at you with wide eyes. He’s handsome; medium height and build, with delicate features. His hair is silver – dyed, you think – and slightly reflective in the light. In his hands, the guy is holding a black knit beanie.

“You,” you blurt, realizing who he is. “I almost knocked you over when I ran off of the bus.”

Yoongi nods, somewhat incredulous. “I thought I recognized you.”

Placing the book down on your desk, you take a slow step forward. “You didn’t come to the library this morning,” you say, your eyes narrowing. “I waited for you.”

His upper lip quirks. “I came earlier,” Yoongi explains. “I couldn’t wait any longer. I’m... Yoongi, by the way.”

You watch him move closer. “I know. I’m Y/N.”

“Hm. What do you know.” Yoongi scans my face. “I like the way you say your name.”

“That’s my line,” you say, crossing your arms. A faint smile takes over your face. “I should have known you were a thief, in addition to vandal.”

Yoongi grins. “Slander,” he murmurs, his eyes large and dark. Silver hair falls into his gaze as he exhales. “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to get over you being here. You’re just so…”

“Short?”

“Beautiful.”

You’re grateful then, that you’re in a library. It means the space between you is hushed, the people around you infinitely quiet. You hear every word Yoongi says and you feel when something careful settles into place between you.

“Did you mean it?” you ask, swallowing your hesitancy. “What you wrote?”

He’s falling for someone he’s never met.

Yoongi nods again. “Did you really like my writing?”

You nod back. “Yes. Very much so.”

You stand there for a while, looking at one another. At least, you do until Yoongi smiles and you realize what could possibly be more beautiful than his words.

“Then,” he teases, his eyes bright with humor. “I propose a deal. I’ll pay the library back for the book I destroyed if you’ll go on a date with me.”

You laugh, a touch nervous when he takes a step closer. “But what would you get?”

“That’s simple,” Yoongi says. “I’ll get you on a date. What do you say?”

A slow smile spreads across your face. “I’d say thank you for defacing public property.”

Author’s Note: Er. This is a one shot. LOL - I hope you enjoy!

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