#to sorta see through the eyes of each of em at the same time for a brief moment

[roakkaliha]

Was it just a cool design choice for Goosefeather to have those funky double eyes in the one side or is that actually something cats can have? Either way I’m obsessed with it

well theres polycoria (more than one pupil in one eye) and cyclopia (two eyes stuck together in one socket), but neither of those are what i was going for in that pic ghbbh. my idea was more like.. two seperate eyes in the same socket, which im pretty sure isnt a thing that can happen irl, or not at least in the way i drew haha. i kinda wanna give some wc design polycoria, but idk if goosefeather would be the right call for that ya know.

[bamfkeeper]

You were taken and Kurt does everything he can to to get you back.

I wanted to write something like this since the post where he sees you get hurt and goes nuts. This is sorta like that but more extreme. A little darker than what I've written before. Please skip this one if the warnings make you uncomfortable. There might be a part two that features more recovery, maybe. Idk yet we will see.

Warnings: Gender neutral mutant!reader, kidnapping, descriptions of injury, creepy soldiers, violence, mutant prejudice (the term 'mutie' is used), mentions/descriptions of physical abuse via soldiers to reader, good ending I promise, unedited (at this point please just expect it lmao I never edit my writing bc I'm lazy).

WC: 3.4k

It happened so fast, a blur of motion and confusion. You barely had time to react before you were snatched from the comforting surroundings of your bedroom and forcefully shoved into a heavily armored vehicle. The interior was cramped, filled to the brim with men in imposing uniforms, their expressions stern and unyielding. You looked up at all of them, your heart pounding in your chest.

Your powers were gone, they had put that damn collar on you, the one designed to nullify your abilities. In that moment, you felt completely and utterly helpless, stripped of your defenses and at the mercy of your captors. They knew it too.

"Poor thing. It doesn't know what to do, does it?" one of them snickered at you, his voice dripping with mockery and malice, making you shiver with a mix of disgust and fear. The man's voice was so vile it made you want to vomit, and the way he looked at you made you feel profoundly uncomfortable. You were helpless, bound on the cold, hard ground of the van, as all of these soldiers kept their disgusting, predatory gazes glued on you, watching you squirm in agony and distress on the floor.

The air was thick with the stench of sweat and metal, amplifying your sense of dread and making your situation feel even more hopeless. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you desperately wished for some form of escape, but there was none. The soldiers' laughter and jeers filled the back of the van, and you felt even more distressed.

"You're a cute mutie, you know that? Most of 'em you can tell are filthy things, but you...you're one of the attractive ones, aren't you?" one soldier spoke. His words were condescending and cruel despite what he said. The tone of his voice carried a sharp edge, filled with disdain and mockery. He looked you up and down with a sneer, observing you with distain and annoyance.

His comrades stood by, chuckling and nodding in agreement, their eyes filled with the same mixture of contempt and amusement. His expression growing more malicious with each passing second, his boot lifted and kicked you slightly. "Are you going to speak, or are you mute, just like a dumb animal?" he asked sharply.

You took a sharp inhale, your chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to steady your nerves. The air felt thick, almost suffocating, as you made a conscious effort to avoid interacting with them at all. The last thing you wanted was to provoke them and risk any form of retaliation.

Your throat was dry, and you could feel your heart pounding in your ears as you swallowed thickly. "N-no..." you managed to let out in a quiet, shaky whisper, barely audible but enough to convey your reluctance and fear.

A sharp sting to your cheek as one of them swung their baton across your face, the impact reverberating through your skull. The blow was so hard it jerked your head to the side with brutal force, and your temple slammed painfully into the cold, unforgiving floor of the van. You could feel the rough texture of the metal against your skin, the scent of dirty leather and iron filled your nostrils, adding to the disorienting pain.

He scoffed, the sound filled with disdain, his eyes holding nothing but cruel amusement and a twisted sense of superiority. "Pathetic freak," he spat, the words dripping with contempt and malice.

The ride was unbearably long and dreary, stretching on for what felt like an eternity. You laid on the cold, hard floor of the van silently, trying to block out the incessant comments and remarks they made about you and your appearance. Their voices dripped with eager malice as they spoke about the brazen and disgusting things they wanted to do to you, each word sending a shiver down your spine and making you want to curl up into a tight ball and hide from the world.

After what seemed like endless hours of discomfort, the van finally slowed to a stop. You were roughly dragged out of it, your legs refusing to cooperate after being forced to lay in such an uncomfortable position for so long. The sun had set the world into a foggy darkness, the only lights illuminating the area were from the large bunker that was build into the wall of a large mountain, guarded with armored vehicles and more men in uniforms.

You struggled to regain your bearings as they pulled you forward, your body aching and your mind reeling from the ordeal. They forcefully walked you inside the huge doors that were drawn open, jerking you around with a roughness that made it hard to keep your composure. Their hands grasped you firmly, their hands groping your body as you struggled against their grip, trying desperately to maintain a calm façade.

Your brave face was beginning to falter, and it became increasingly evident that your terror was rapidly growing. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't hide the fact that fear was taking over, creeping into every corner of your mind.

They walked you to a wall of cells, which stretched endlessly in both directions, each one containing a mutant. Some cells already held mutants who were caged and looked absolutely horrible, as if they had been there for a long time. The conditions of the cells varied greatly; some were sterile and clean, while others were more run-down and dilapidated, as if the guards had no fear that the mutant inside would ever escape.

The air was thick with the smell of decay and neglect. Most of the mutants didn't move or look up; they were either lying down or sitting in a posture of utter defeat. Their eyes were vacant, their spirits broken, and it seemed as though hope had long since abandoned them. The overall atmosphere was one of despair and abandonment, a stark reminder of the cruelty inflicted upon them.

"What is this place?" you asked, attempting to sound firm and confident. However, your voice betrayed you, emerging as meek and afraid instead. The man holding you chuckled in amusement at your fear as he opened the heavy, creaking door to your chosen cell.

"Your new home, mutant. Get comfortable," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. With a rough shove, he threw you onto the cold, hard ground. The impact knocked the wind out of you as you landed with a thud. The man then unsheathed a gleaming blade, its edge catching the dim light.

He began to cut through the coarse ropes that bound your body, each slice of the blade careless. He didn’t care if he nicked you, and he did a few times. You flinched as the blade cut your skin, the sharp jerks and sawing through the ropes stabbed into you as you let out sharp hisses and pained gasps.

The man continued as if he weren't hurting you, and he scoffed with each noise you made. "If you sat still this wouldn't have happened," he grabbed one of your bleeding arms and he held it up.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice whined out, desperate for answers. None of their uniforms gave their organization away, and you had no idea what they wanted with you. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls, which only added to the sense of dread you felt. The man just stood up, shrugging nonchalantly as if this entire situation was a routine matter for him.

"Nothing important. Whatever the boss wants," he replied, his voice dripping with apathy. "We do anything to your kind, and no one will come for you. We won't be charged with any crimes, you aren't people. You're nothing to us, and soon we will exterminate your species and we will be the supreme race on the planet again."

His words cut through the air like a knife, making it hard to breathe. You could see the cold determination in his eyes, a reflection of a deeply ingrained hatred. It was clear that they had been planning this for a long time, and you were just another pawn in their grand scheme. The thought of being part of such a ruthless plan made your stomach churn, but there was nothing you could do but listen and hope for a chance to escape.

The days melded together in an indistinguishable blur, and your concept of time dissipated. Every single day, you were visited by the men, who would unceremoniously drag you into a sterile lab filled with cold, clinical instruments.

There, a man wearing white would subject you to various invasive procedures, poking and prodding you with sharp tools that seemed designed to maximize your agony. They took many things from you—blood, tissue samples, and even bone marrow—leaving you feeling increasingly depleted and always somewhat wounded and weak.

Your time in this nightmarish place was exactly what mutantkind was afraid of, what you were afraid of, filled with relentless suffering, and they showed no sign of compassion or concern for the excruciating pain they inflicted upon you.

You were beaten regularly, just like the rest of the mutants being held captive in the facility. Every day, they came to your cell with their batons, mercilessly laying into you until your skin changed colors from the bruises. They were relentless, you were kicked and hit repeatedly, dragged by your hair across the cold, hard floors, thrown against the walls, and tossed around like a ragdoll.

You were barely fed, only given tasteless slop that had the consistency of old paste and looked anywhere from white to grey mush. This so-called "food" was just enough to keep you from starving, but not enough to ever feel full or satisfied. The meals were infrequent and meager, purposefully designed to keep you in a state of constant hunger and weakness.

They wanted to ensure that your body remained perpetually frail, as if the collar around your neck didn't already make you harmless enough for them. This deliberate deprivation was a method of control, a way to break down your spirit and ensure that you remained too weak to resist or fight back.

You were so tired.

The torment seemed endless. You swore that if they didn't need to take samples from your body nearly every day for their experiments, they would have taken pleasure in killing you outright. The relentless abuse was a constant reminder of your helplessness, and the fact that you couldn't fight back killed you inside.

Collared, drugged, and experimented on like some kind of helpless animal, it seemed like there was no end to the torment. They groped and touched you in ways you didn't want, and it was clear they had no regard for your consent or well-being. The very sight of your discomfort brought them pleasure, and they made sure you knew it every step of the way. Their methods were devised and precise; deeply psychological torment designed to break your spirit and make you feel utterly powerless.

As much as you hated it, it worked.

Their methods proved to be highly effective, gradually wearing you down over time. You could feel yourself slowly succumbing to their demands, submitting to what they wanted from you. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism that your brain instinctively resorted to in order to cope with the relentless torture and abuse. After enduring for such a long period, you found that you had no fight left within you, completely drained of the will to resist.

Red alarms blared loudly, their piercing sound cutting through the silence and yanking you from a rare slumber. Startled, you blinked awake, though your vision was slightly corrupted by the bruises and swollen skin, especially around your dominant eye, which throbbed painfully.

Groggily, your head rose from the cold, hard floor, confusion flooding your mind as you tried to process your surroundings. The distant sounds of fighting drifted to your ears from the direction of your cell, adding to the disorientation and making you wonder what the hell was happening beyond the confines of your small, dimly-lit prison.

You felt your body flinch violently as something large and heavy slammed into the room where the cells were located. The sudden noise echoed through the small, confined space, sending a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you crawled into the nearest corner and curled up there, trying to make yourself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

You had learned from experience that the precious visits from the men were less painful if you were already huddled against the wall, minimizing the areas they could hit with their fists or batons. The cold, hard surface of the wall offered a strange sense of comfort, even as fear and uncertainty gnawed at you.

The the heavy, metallic sound of your cell door creaking open, and instinctively, your entire body tensed up, bracing for yet another brutal attack from the armed men who derived joy from taunting and tormenting you. You prepared yourself for the rough hands and the mocking jeers that usually followed. But this time, instead of the expected harsh touches and cruel laughter, you were met with something entirely different—a voice you hadn't expected to hear again.

"Liebe..." the voice whispered weakly, the word hanging in the air like a fragile thread of hope. Puzzled and intrigued, you slowly pulled your head out from its tucked, defensive position and glanced toward the source of the unexpected whisper. The sight that met your eyes made you freeze.

Kurt stood in shock, his eyes glued to your fragile, timid form curled on the floor. The scene overwhelmed him, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. He slowly knelt down, every movement deliberate as if sudden actions might shatter the fragile peace. His hands, steady yet trembling with restrained emotion, gently set his swords on the floor with a quiet clink that echoed in the silence. "Liebe...y/n..." he rasped quietly, his voice a soft whisper, trying his best to sound calm and composed despite the complete internal storm of rage and anguish brewing within him.

His heart ached with as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your form, not wanting to startle you further. You stared with uncertainty, your body naturally flinching away, so used to a heavy hand and harsh touches that left you in anguish. For some reason, your brain couldn't differentiate between your lover and the men who had been torturing you.

"I-It's me, Kurt..." he said with a pained strain, his voice cracking as if it hurt to speak, "It's okay...I'm here now." He muttered, his hand gently touching your bruised body, his fingers trembling slightly as if afraid to cause you more pain. You made a quiet whine, a soft sound that conveyed both your relief and your lingering fear. Looking at him and realizing that he had come to you, that he was truly here, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you.

He was here, and you were safe.

The room around you seemed to blur as the significance of his presence settled in, the promise of protection and care easing the tension consuming you. A cry escaped your throat and you fell into him, his arms instantly wrapped around your body, his tail following suit. "Shh, sh...Es ist okay, ich bin jetzt hier." he whispered, trying his best to soothe you while your cheeks dampened with tears.

He held you tightly and let you cry, feeling the tremors of your sobs against his chest. He could hear the terror and desperation in your muffled wails, each one a heartbreaking testament to your pain. Your arms and hands gripped him, but your hold was weak, your strength sapped by the inhumane treatment you endured. You were in dire need of medical attention, evident from your pale complexion and labored breathing. Despite this, he didn't want to let go yet; he wanted to keep you in his arms, so afraid to let go and lose you again.

"You're safe now, liebling," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Oh... I was so scared... so terribly scared I might not reach you in time." His heart ached with the memory of the fear and helplessness he had felt, and he vowed never to let you out of his sight again.

"Let's go...hold on..." he said, gripping you tightly as his tail moved and wrapped securely around his swords. With a swift motion, he teleported you to the jet. The floor beneath you was hard and unyielding, but the environment around you was far more welcoming and comforting than the cold, harsh cell that had been stained with your own blood.

He leaned back to grab something, his arms unwrapping from your body, but your grip grew stronger on him. "No...no, don't go," you were desperate for him, so terrified of his absence, your mind was in pieces, the aftermath of the torture you went through on full display as you became more and more attached to his presence. Needing him like he were the only thing keeping you from drowning in the thrashing waters that plagued your thoughts.

"I'm not going anywhere, schatz... I am just getting a blanket for you," Kurt soothed reassuringly. His tail, nimble and gentle, reached out to grab the blanket so his arms could remain wrapped securely around you, providing a sense of comfort and stability that you desperately needed. He carefully grabbed the soft blanket and draped it over you, making sure you were warm, and continued to hold you close against his body in a protective embrace.

The presence of the other X-Men in the jet went by unnoticed by you, They started up the jet and began the flight back towards the mansion where you could be properly treated. Right now, your only focus was on Kurt, his presence and touch being the only things grounding you in that moment of anxiety.

As you finally began to give in to the much-needed sleep your body was desperate for, your eyes caught a glimpse of the swords Kurt had carried with him into the facility. Their brilliant, silver shine was now dulled with the stains of crimson, splattered and smeared across the once pristine blades, telling a silent tale of what transpired before he found you. You blinked, trying to focus more on them, but his tail pushed them out of view, obscuring the unsettling sight.

Kurt didn't want you to witness the sheer carnage he had wrought, as he was completely blinded by a bitter and relentless rage that consumed him entirely. In his fury, he slaughtered so many men that he lost count, not even realizing the extent of his actions. All he could think about was wanting you back in his arms, where you would be safe and protected from the horrors that had befallen you. His blades were stained with the hateful blood of those men who had caused you so much harm, and he felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, even though deep down he knew it was wrong.

But he didn't care about the morality of his actions, not now at least. Seeing you so badly hurt had ignited a fire within him, a burning guilt that was only somewhat lifted by the vengeance he exacted. His mind was clouded, but in the chaos, all he wanted was get you home safe where you could be treated. None of the other X-Men dared say a word to him about what happened, by the time they arrived to help Kurt had already went through the men with ease, his blind rage driving him to kill to get to you.

He carefully adjusted his hold, making sure that you could lay your head more comfortably against him. He wanted to ensure that you couldn't see the gleaming blades. His expression was a complex mixture of trouble and deep worry, reflecting the weight of the situation and his concern for your well-being. Leaning closer, he whispered softly, "Rest, liebe... we will get you fixed up soon. Just hold on a little longer..."

You couldn't argue with him now. Your body was in need of rest and you finally felt safe enough to fall asleep. It was such a relief to sleep without worrying about someone coming in and hurting you. You closed your eyes as he held you tight, whispering sweet nothings to you as you slowly allowed your body to fall into a deep slumber. All you knew now was that you had a long recovery ahead of you, and he would be by your side the entire time.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight and @/strangergraphics

Tag List: @southside-otaku

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[rosetintedgunman]

A ghostly Ollie popped his head out of a wall and waves hello at Wilford!

‘hi! what is your favorite part about spring?’ He asked, his pale hair floating as he beams up at the pink reporter.

@oliver-ashcroft-documents

-

A friendly face in the dressing-room-studio!

Wilford had been checking out his reflection in the large mirror when a hint of movement caught his eye. Thinking it was one of the more "serious" members of the team, he spun around with a hand innocently running through his curls like he was totally just fixing some rebellious strands.

"Ollie! So good of ya ta swing by!" A chair was grabbed and brought over so Wilford could drop onto it. "Y'know, that's a great question. Might hafta look into ya joinin' th' team fer some ghostly interviews. Could give one or two of th' younger Jims some good pointers, I'd bet. But, ah, lemme think fer a sec... I like th' longer days. When yer someone like me, who's spent a lotta time fallin' in an' out of time, goin' back an' forth an' baaack an' foooorth, ya forget what it's like ta actually experience time normally. Y'know: th' fourteenth turns ta th' fifteenth, then th' sixteenth, that sorta thing. An' each day, th' sun's settin' a little later. Did ya know it does that? I sure forgot it did."

What a strange answer. One would have assumed he would have jumped to an answer that connected the cherry blossoms to him. Instead, he chuckled. "I have this, uh, faint thing I can see in my head where I'd gotten my hands on some chalk. Me, an' this other small person, were makin' notes on a path. Maybe lines? Maybe words? I don't know, but it was somethin' we did each day fer a while. Like we were, we were..." He paused, a penny dropping in his mind, "We were takin' note of where th' shadows stood at th' same time every day."

But as quick as the moment of revelation struck him, Wilford was quickly shaking his head and turning his attention to the ghost. "Hey, if ya can make it all th' way here, ya think I could drag ya outside one of th' days? There's all these little flowers startin' ta sprout an' I think y'd love 'em."

[lost-context-quotes]

A Man in A Rockin’ Chair

When I was about 19, I worked as a delivery boy for the mail. Every two weeks or so there was a letter addressed to the same little cabin up out in the woods. Every once in a while, there'd be a package with it too. During my third week on the job, I got that letter in my bundle to deliver.

The drive was kinda long, and pretty out of the way from my other stops but I ended up at the cabin at about lunch time. Once I’d parked my truck out front, I made my way to the door. The big wooden one was propped open with sum’th’n but the screen door sat closed, lettin’ a breeze run through the small house.

I rang the doorbell, waited, then knocked a couple times. I peared in, just a little bit, but couldn't see much through the dirty wire of the screen. Hearing nothing, I started writing my ticket for a return time. Out the corner uh my eye, I saw the man sitting on the front porch, sleeping in a rockin’ chair. Didn't notice ‘im before, he was sitting so still I coulda’ thought he was a patio figure.

“Sir,” I called out to him, “Sir, excuse me.” Nothin’, not even a muscle. I walked up closer to him. He was pretty old, maybe he just couldn’t hear me.

“Excuse me, sir,” Still nothing. I tapped on his shoulder a bit, and boy did he jump. I was afraid he might fall right outta his chair. “Sir, can you sign for this package please?”

Now I was a mighty thin kid, not much bigger round than my own arms could reach. And this old man, with his glasses all crooked, took one look at me and musta decided I was starved.

“Boy, how’d you like some cookies?”

“Sir?” I was a lil’ bit confused, not really the first thing I’d expected him tuh say.

“Yuh look too thin to be eatin’ real regular; yeah, I bet you’d like some cookies, you wait right there, I’ll get you some.” I watched as the man started to push himself up outta chair. He had a bit uh trouble cuz’ the chair kept rockin’ back and forth ev’ry time he made any sorta move.

“No, thank you, I really have to-” I tried to stop him, but he already finished gettin’ himself up. He walked ‘cross the porch, if you could call it walkin’ really, each step seemed to take all the effort he had in him just to move and one leg seemed to drag a little behind each time.

“Nonsense, I’ve got them coolin’ inside, lord knows I don't need all of ‘em to mahself.” He made his way to the screen door. The old metal hinges squeaked as he opened it, complaining at the movement. “How I could let such a lanky young man like you go without feedin’ ‘i'm? What kind uh man would I be then?”

I caught the edge of the door before it could close quite all the way and tried calling into the house. “Sir, I really don't need any cookies. I just need your signature on this package please.”

He made no movement he could hear me though, and I saw his back turn the corner in the house and after a bit of russlin’ he came back round holdin’ a plate.

“Now here, I’ll trade yuh. You take these here cookies off my hands and I’ll take that package off yours. Sound fair?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Great, where did you want me to sign again?” I pulled my scanner out and held it forward with the pen, maybe I’d actually get out of here. “Right here, sir.”

“Of course then.” He scratched his signature onto the screen and clicked the pen into it’s plastic holder.

“Here’s your package sir.” I slipped the scanner into my pocket and held out the package.

“Yes, thank you very much young man.” With surprising speed compared to everythin’ else, he’d grabbed the package and somehow got his plate of cookies onto my hands.

“Ah’m sure you’ve got plenty more mail to get to, so don't get held up on me. You just take those cookies with ya’, and don't chu worry about bringing the plate back, I’ve got plenty tah spare.” He started turnin’ around and had already made it inside by the time I caught up to what he was sayin’.

“Sir, I don’t think I can take these.” Was there some mail system policy that would exempt me from this. “Sir?” The house was quite once again, and I didn't think I could open ‘is door without some sort of legal problems, so I was left standin’ on his porch ‘oldin’ his plate of cookies.

‘Course at that point I didn't see much else to do but leave, he’d taken the package and the cookies were just- just-.... Oh whatever, I just wouldn’t eat ‘em then.

I walked back to my truck, cookies in hand and got ready to drive off. Spent a good ‘mount of time tryin’ to find a place the plate wouldn’t slide off and break. Still ended up havin’ to hold it a good ways down the dirt road.

Was ‘bout an hour ‘n uh half later that I started gettin’ hungry. Those cookies started to look real good and tasty. Somethin’ tah know ‘bout me is that I don’t have much in the way of resistance. So pretty darn fast, I made that plate empty. Sum of the best cookies I’ve ever had were on that plate.

When I got back to the office that evenin’ I made sure tuh tell my friends about the man I met, ‘bout how he gave me cookies..

“Sounds like ya’ met Mr. Mclain. Out in the woods, yeah?”

“How’d you know?” Maybe I wasn't the only one confused by him.

“Everyone here’s had to deliver to him at least once, he gets a letter like clockwork. Packages less so. Though that’s all that’s ever been delivered to him and he’s got no mailbox either.”

“Didn’t notice.” I hadn’t noticed. I’d been too busy with his package and his infernal cookies to even think about his mailbox.

“I’m always scared I’ll walk up and he won’t just be sleeping in his chair.”

“What’d’yuh mean?”

“I always have to make sure he’s still breathin’. That old man sleeps like the dead!”

“Didn’t even think about that, I’d be scared too.” Thank goodness for the cookies then, if it means he was able to get up for ‘em.

“See ya’ tomorrow!” They called as they finished packing up and left.

“Bye!”

The next few weeks went by pretty smoothly, and I’d just about forgotten old man Mclain. ‘Side from his plate slidin’ ‘round in my truck every now and then. But then I got his letter in my bundle again.

I got there at about noon b’tween my other stops and pulled my truck up front in the same spot. I noticed that sure ‘nuff, he didn’t have a mailbox.

I went to slide his letter in the door when I saw Mr. Mclain sleeping in his rocking chair. Mah friend’s words came back to me, ‘sleeps like the dead’ she said.

I’d almost walked away when I thought to check him. Just in case.

“Excuse me?” Please respond, “Sir?” Nothing, “Mr. Mclain?” I tapped on ‘is shoulder this time, and he startled like a cat in heat.

“Mmm, whatchu need?” He straightened out his glasses on his face and looked me up and down, “Oh, it’s you again. Have you got another package for me?”

“No, just a letter this time, sir.” I handed it to him, much easier to deliver it to him personally.

“Oh, well let me get you somethin’ tah eat. Still too skinny in my book. Don't your mama ever feed you?”

“Sir, I don’t-” Why did this man insist on giving me food every time?

“Just let me get it from inside. Won’t take but a minute.” He’d already gotten out of his chair and made it to the screen door when I thought to get his plate. The door squeaked once more as he opened it and he slipped around the same corner. I nearly ran to my truck to grab that plate, only finding it to have slipped under my seat.

I was right back on the porch as he came back ‘round the corner holdin’ someth’n.

“I’ve got your plate from last time, Mr. Mclain.”

“Oh perfect,” He said as he slipped out the door, “Means I won’t have to give you another one.” I was about to question him when he moved something from his hands onto the plate I was holding. I looked down at the biscuit now sitting on the cookie plate. “Made biscuits and gravy this mornin’, figure the leftovers’d be better spent on a young man like you.”

“I-,” I was about to deny the food again but paused, “I’m sure I’ll love it thank you.” I saw the mischievous sparkle in his eye at the acceptance.

“Thank you for the letter. You ‘best get on now, I’m sure ev’ryone else wants their mail too.”

“Right, Goodbye Mr.Mclain.” I turned around to leave, “And make sure you eat more than just that biscuit ‘fore I see you starve.” He yelled out behind me.

“I will, Mr. Mclain, I will.”

I heard his muttered ‘good’ as I walked back to my truck, one biscuit more than I came with.

From then on I always seemed to be the one gettin’ Mr. Mclain’s mail. And every time, I drove up there with a letter or a package and his empty plate in tow only to come back with it full. He always seemed to have something he could give me. A sandwich he assured me he’d never finish, or a leftover piece of breakfast that ‘would go to waste otherwise.’ And I stopped tryin’ to refuse ‘em as he always seemed to get the food on the plate as I tried to return it.

And I made a habit of tappin’ him on the shoulder when he was sleepin’ in his chair, and if anyone asked I did it so I could get his signature, just in case. Sometimes I’d end up stickin’ around longer than it took to deliver, if only to get to know him and give him some comp’ny.

It was one of those days that heard him complain as I gave him the letter.

“It’d be so much easier if he just came to visit one of these days.”

“If who came to visit, Mister?” I’d never heard him talk about anyone real specific before, much less who sent the letters.

“My son,” I nearly dropped the plate holding my croissant, “He sends me all these letters and postcards from his business trips, but he never comes around to see me.”

“I didn’t know you had a son, Mr. Mclain.”

“I do. He’s about 27 now. Some big business man based in New York as far as I know. He goes places all the time, but never here. Too small a place for some fancy Yankee to visit his father I guess.”

“I’m sorry about-”

“I think it’s probably time you get on your delivery rounds. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than talk to an old man.”

“Well, no not re-”

“Get to it then, can’t have you sittin’ here all day.” He ushered me down the front steps, and this time I nicked the plate on the corner of the cabin.

I turned to look at him from the bottom. He’d turned around as well and was staring sadly at the letter in his hands before he went inside the squeaky screen door.

“Hey, Mr. Mclain!” I shouted out to him, he looked back at me in surprise, “Do you think you might want me to come fix that door for you someday?”

“That’d be mighty nice of you indeed.” And I could see his smile even through that dirty screen door.

As I left, I picked up the small piece that broke off the plate. It would be easy to glue back.

As offered, the next time he got a letter from his son, I stopped by with my tool box in the trunk and some brand new hinges. I used my rag and some spray to wipe down the screen, making it much clearer to see through.

It was about two or three months later that I drove up to his house with another package. I greeted him with a wave, until I realized he was sleepin’ in his chair again. A feeling ran up my spine, I tried to ignore it. So I walked up to him and tapped on his shoulder like I usually did, expecting him to jump awake like usual.

I tapped him again.

Maybe just one more time.

Oh no. Oh no. Not now. I dropped the package I was holding, completely ignoring the sound of breaking glass. I tried to find a pulse on him, nothing.

I wouldn’t ever admit to crying that day. And if the EMT’s saw me, they didn’t say anything.

A week after my twentieth birthday, I was halfway through my daily rounds when I drove by the turn to Mr. Mclain’s driveway by habit. Though I was surprised to see vans coming down the small dirt driveway.

My curiosity got the best of me and I turned it to see what was goin’ on up at ol’ Mr. Mclain’s house. I had to park off the road as my usual spot was taken up by a moving van or two.

I hopped out my truck and went looking for the man in charge of all that chaos. Found him in a man with a suit on and a clipboard in hand, yellin’ out commands for all the movers.

“Get those sheets packed! The blankets and pillows too. We have to be out of here in time to sell on Tuesday! And someone find that missing plate!”

I walked up to the man, slightly shy around all the noise and yelling, “Excuse me, what’s going on here? Who are you? Why are you emptying Mr. Mclain’s house?”

“I’m Mr. Mclain’s son. And I’m emptying it so it’s ready to sell. You interested in buying?” A strong smile grew on his face and a similar mischievous glint to Mr. Mclain’s shown in his eyes, ‘cept this one was tainted by greed.

“No, I’m not,” His smile fell.

“Then get off the property please, we are working here and I wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt.” He turned his back to me and I was about to do the same, when I remembered something else, “What missing plate were you talking about?”

“Hmm.” He looked at me from the side, as if totally disinterested, “There’s a plate missing from one of the sets. Why?”

“I think I’ve got that missing plate in my truck right now, actually.” I frowned slightly.

“Get it for me please, it’s part of the set,” He said, voice almost monotone.

“Sure thing.”

I grabbed the empty plate from where it fell under my seat again, not quite caring as the glued-on shard fell off, taking another small chunk with it. It was his problem now.

I went to hand the plate to him when he motioned for a mover to take it. It was stacked in a box with 11 other identical plates and whisked off towards a van.

As I got back into my truck and drove off, I caught just enough of a glimpse of the box being set next to an old rocking chair and shut behind hard metal doors.

[violetlilysunshine]

Like a Sleepover

Tom Holland x Female Reader

Requested

Anon: Sleeping over Tom Holland house for the first time. Lots of fluff please

WC: 3,544

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: I'm seeing this take place in Atlanta, but it’s not really specific if you wanna imagine it somewhere else!

REQUESTS OPEN - Or just come chat :)

MASTERLIST

You and Tom had been together for a little while; you were getting serious, spending more and more time together.

Last month, you finally put a label on yourselves, “is it...ya know, uh… can I, well…” he stuttered.

“Spit it out, Tommy,” you joked.

“Can I call you my girlfriend?”

You were taken aback for a second, “well, uh, to be honest, I kinda thought I already was…” you giggled.

He laughed at you gently, “well alright then, girlfriend…” he trailed off with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Okay, boyfriend.”

TUESDAY

Flash forward and you’re making plans for this weekend seeing as you're both off from filming.

“Yeah, so they’re showing Outsiders at the drive-in on Friday, and we’d have to go to the later showing after I finish filming, but uh, I thought it would be fun and something different for us and I know you love the movie. Might be fun to dress like Greasers too,” he proposed through the phone, calling you between scenes.

“Ooh that does sound like fun, but I wanna be Cherry,” you said, giggling a bit.

“Okay, you can be Cherry, I’ll be Ponyboy,” he finalized.

“Sounds good, well I gotta go,” you said, “duty calls.”

“Yeah, me too, but uh, one more thing real fast?”

“Sure, what’s up, babe?”

“Well seeing as it’s going to be really late, I just thought maybe after it’s over, you could maybe stay with me?” his voice tweaked up at the end. He was met with silence on your end for a minute before he added, “ya know, like a sleepover…”

“Uh, yeah, maybe…” you trailed off, “we’ll see what the wind blows, huh?”

“Oh,” he said, his voice dropping a bit, “yeah sounds good.”

“Okay, well I really do have to run.”

“Alright, darling, talk to you tonight.”

“Bye,” you said, already walking out of your trailer and back to set.

“Yeah, bye,” he answered to himself, seeing as you’d already ended the call.

You had never been nervous with him before, but now he’d casually invited you to stay over at his house for the night, something you’d never done with any boyfriend, ever. You didn’t know how to act, and it kinda freaked you out.

Was he expecting anything? What would you even wear? Should you bring a change of clothes? Would late night last into early morning? What if you woke up before him and didn’t know what to do in his house? What if he woke up first and you slept in really late, leaving him bored and trapped?

Questions swirled your mind, and you knew he would bring it up again, but you had to force them away. You hustled back to set, getting into character and trying to forget about everything.

He called you later that night, “wanna grab a bite with Harry and I?” he proposed.

“Uh sure,” you thought since Harry would be there, he wasn’t likely to bring it up again.

You met him just down the street from his house at the forgotten diner you frequented, never being recognized and getting some peace together. You grabbed burgers and chatted about your day as you ate and everything seemed fine. He didn’t bring it up again, and you thought you would have another few days to process everything and hopefully get over the hurdles in your mind. You wanted to stay with him, but you didn’t know how that would play out, exactly.

“Finished?” he asked, gesturing to your empty tray as he stood up.

“Yeah, thanks,” you smiled, and he cleaned up the table and took the trash to the can.

“I’m gonna walk back, if that’s okay,” Harry said, standing from the table, “got some photos I wanna edit.”

“Sure, bro, I’ll be right behind you,” Tom answered, coming back to you.

“Bye,” you waved as he left you and Tom alone.

“Walk you to your car?” Tom offered.

You stood up, turning around to thank the workers as the two of you left the diner. He walked you to your car, one hand secured around your shoulders, hugging you tight to his side.

“So, uh, I kinda got the sense that you didn’t want to stay with me earlier,” he said slowly, testing the waters to see how you would react.

You swallowed hard, turning to lean on the door of your car, “oh,” you whispered, “well uh, it’s not that, it’s just that I don’t - I’ve never really, uh, done that before.”

“Yeah I know we haven’t, love,” he chuckled.

“I mean, like ever,” you whispered, looking at the ground, “I just uh, don’t really know how that works.”

“Oh, well, uh, it’s not that hard really,” he soothed, “you just sorta sleep at my place, and I take care of you, and make you breakfast, and we just be together.”

You looked into his chocolate eyes, nothing but love pouring out of them. You don’t know how long you held his gaze for, but he started to get a little nervous at your lack of response.

“I mean, we’ve napped together before, it’s kinda like the same thing, just longer,” he added, trying to put you at ease.

“But like, what’s gonna happen?” you said, fiddling with your hands.

He understood what your emphasis meant, bringing a hand to your shoulder and rubbing it gently, “I’m not expecting anything, love,” he soothed you, “if it happens, fine, I’m ready for that. If you’re not that’s fine too, just wanna cuddle with you. Feel you pressed against me. Have my sheets smell like you when I get in ‘em the next night.”

You felt more at ease about it, but wrinkled your nose at his last statement.

His eyes grew wide, “no no no,” he hurried out, “I didn’t mean it, like, in a weird way! It came out wrong!”

You giggled at him, “it’s okay, bub, I get it. Why do you think I like wearing your hoodies all the time?”

He breathed a sigh of relief, chuckling at you, “yeah?”

“Yeah, and to be honest I don’t really even like hoodies. I’m a sweatshirt kind of gal.”

“Noted,” he answered, saving that info for later, “so what d’ya think about Friday?”

“I’ll stay, but like, do I bring anything?”

“You can bring whatever makes you comfortable, love,” he answered quietly, stepping towards you and cupping your face in his hands.

“Okay,” you breathed, connecting your lips to his.

You kissed for a while, his body pressing yours into the door. You pulled back to take a breath, resting your forehead on his, “but really, do I bring like, a toothbrush and stuff?”

“Yes, love, bring a toothbrush,” he chuckled, pecking you again. He swung his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you off the car, “let’s get you home, yeah?”

He opened your door, letting you inside the driver’s seat and closing the door. You started the car, him still standing there watching you. You rolled down the window, “are you coming or what?” you laughed.

“What?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I’m taking you home, obviously,” you giggled.

He ran around to the other side, hopping in quickly and buckling up. His hand rested against your thigh instantly, stroking his thumb across your skin.

You made the short drive to his house, lights on downstairs showing that Harry was already there.

“Thanks for the ride, baby,” Tom said, leaning over the console and giving you a quick peck.

“Anytime,” you whispered, pecking him again.

“See you Friday,” he said with a raise of his eyebrows, squeezing your thigh.

“Yeah, Friday,” you answered quickly.

He pecked you one last time before slipping out of the car and jogging to the front door. You watched him go inside, waving to each other before you drove off.

THURSDAY

After you were off, you took a long shower, exfoliating everything and shaving your legs, in preparation for tomorrow night. You carefully packed your bag: toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, mouthwash, hair brush, extra ponytail holders, face wash, cute pajamas, fuzzy socks, extra undies (more than you’ll ever possibly need but can’t be too prepared, right?), a cute outfit for Saturday, and a book (because who knows what the tide will bring?).

You’d spent so long worrying about what you would take with you, that you’d forgotten that you had to find something to wear to the movie. You’d already agreed to be Cherry, so you had to come up with something.

You slipped to the back of your closet, finding an old-plaid-navy-school-uniform skirt. That’ll work. You pulled out a plain white sweater that you’d never found a chance to wear, thinking you could tuck that in, and a lace bralette to go underneath it; after all, you wanted to feel a little sexy. You pulled forward some old blue Vans and some white crew socks, planning to fold them over. You also planned to ask your hair and make-up artist to help you with your hair before you left set tomorrow, saving a few pictures for her.

By the time you’d done all that, you figured you better go to bed, turning off the light, crawling into bed, and thinking about what tomorrow would bring.

FRIDAY

You’d had a long and stressful day filming, stuttering over your lines, missing your marks, and overall just not giving your best performance. Everyone has their off days, but you knew this was coming from your worries about tonight.

You called Tom as you were getting your hair done after wrapping for the day.

“Hi, bub, am I interrupting you?” you asked as soon as he answered.

“Never, love,” he answered, “what’s up?”

“Well, I’m getting my hair done for tonight, then I was going to head home. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t want me to stop and get anything at all or bring anything specific with me..”

“Course not, darling. You just have to bring that pretty face…” he trailed off.

If you were with him, you’d have slapped his shoulder lightly. Instead you just giggled, asking, “you’re positive?”

“Yes darling,” he insisted, “I’ll pick you up at 9:00.”

“Alright…” you trailed, “guess I better let you get back to work.”

“I’ll see you later, beautiful,” he whispered, “bye.”

“Bye.”

Your hair and make-up artist finished her work, expertly recreating your example images. You thanked her profusely, complimenting her over and over.

She answered with a simple, “it’s nothing dear,” and a wave of her hand.

You hugged her thank you, heading back to your trailer to collect your things.

By the time you got back to your apartment, it was already 8:30. You quickly dropped your work and other set junk on the table, scurrying to your room to collect your bag for Tom’s. You checked over everything in there, playing all the possible scenarios in your mind before deciding you were prepared.

You changed into your outfit for the night, lacing your shoes and admiring yourself in the full length mirror. You snapped a few pictures, deciding that one was cute and posted it to your Instagram story with the caption, “where’s my Pony?” and a cherry emoji.

As soon as you put it up, Tom knocked on your door. You rushed through the living room to the front door, flinging it open to see what Tom had concocted for the evening. You took in his appearance, mouth watering at the sight. You admired his slicked back hair, tight grey t-shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit of course, loose jeans, cuffed at the hem, beat up black converse, and red flannel hanging over his shoulder; you didn’t realize the effect this dress-up would have on you. You giggled, eyeing him up and down as he did the same to you.

“Hey, doll,” he grinned, meeting your eyes again.

“Hey, Pony,” you laughed.

“Ready to go?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, let me just get my bag from my room,” you said, turning back to grab it from your bed.

At the last second you decided to throw a box of tampons in. You weren’t expecting to use them, but you didn’t want to get stranded without them. You sighed, zipping up the bag and turning off your bedroom light.

You emerged from the room, walking towards Tom, standing by the table.

“Ready,” you said, voice kind of quiet.

“Let’s go then,” he smiled brightly, taking your bag from you and grabbing your hand. You locked the door behind you before following him to his car.

~~~~

When you parked to watch the movie, Tom was quick to pull out his phone, snapping a picture of the title screen and posting it to his public story. You knew fans would be in a tizzy, considering your earlier post, but they always were so what’s the point in worrying. Then he turned to you, “take a photo with me, love?”

“Course, Pony, anything for you,” you said dramatically, even though you loved it.

“Are you gonna call me that all night?” he chuckled.

“Maybe forever,” you answered, laughing loudly.

He pulled his phone up to take a selfie. You smiled wide, pressing your faces together, and he turned to peck your cheek. He snapped another, smiling as well, saving it and setting it as his lock screen.

The movie was great, as expected, and the drive-in atmosphere made it even more fun. You didn’t have to worry about fans interrupting you, a big plus, but it also just fit the movie so well, and it was fun to be in costume.

When it wrapped up and you were waiting in the traffic to pull out of the lot, Tom asked gently, “still wanna come over?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, trying not to overthink things.

“Okay, just making sure. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Just want you to be comfortable,” he said, dropping a hand to your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, well I wanna give it a go,” you said with a small smile, placing your hand on top of his.

He smiled wide, picking up your hand to give it a kiss, before dropping it back into your lap.

The drive to his house was quick after you finally made it out of the parking lot. He hurried around the car, opening your door for you, before grabbing your bag from the backseat.

He placed a hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to the front door. He shuffled around to unlock it, pushing open the door and allowing you to enter first. You stepped inside, making note of Harry on the couch. It was almost 1:00 AM, so you’d assumed he'd be asleep.

“Oh, hey Harry,” you spoke lightly.

“Hey, was wondering when you’d get here…” he trailed off, “I was just about to turn in. Outfit’s great by the way,” he said, standing from the couch and gathering his laptop.

“I don’t mean to chase you out,” you said, not wanting to be in the way.

“No, no, you didn’t,” he soothed, “it’s time to turn in anyway, gonna go golf in the morning.”

“Oh, okay, goodnight.”

“Night,” he said, trudging down the hall.

Tom had set your bag on the bench in the entryway, coming up behind you. He placed his hands on your hips, pulling you flush against his front, as he snuggled his face into your neck.

“Hi,” he whispered in your hair.

“Hi,” you giggled back, attempting to turn in his grasp.

His hands held you in place, wrapping around to cross over your stomach. He rested his weight against you, slowly swaying the both of you back and forth.

You eyed the mirror across the room, desperate to take pictures like this. After all, he got a new lockscreen earlier…

“Bub,” you giggled, feeling his breath fan across your neck.

“Mmm, yes, my love?” he grumbled, pressing kisses against your skin.

“I wanna take a picture,” you giggled, “over in that cool mirror.”

He squeezed you tighter for a second, before releasing you, “mmkay,” he answered, letting you lead him over to the mirror.

“Do that again,” you told him, guiding his arms around your waist.

He was quick to settle back into you, breathing in your scent as you snapped a few photos in the mirror: a few of him kissing your neck, a few with you both looking in the mirror, a few of him looking at you, lovingly. He buried his face even further into you, hiding completely, as you took just one more. You asked him if it was okay to post one.

“Let me see it first,” he said, wanting to check all of the surroundings for spoilers and whatnot.

He was quick to approve the photo with his lips pressed to your jaw, making you smile.

You put it up on your story, captioning this one, “found him,” with the horse and cherry emojis.

He kissed your neck a few times, watching you post, before mumbling, “ready for bed?”

You yawned slowly, “yeah, I think so.”

“Alright,” he whispered, pecking your cheek one final time.

He slid one hand down your arm, locking your fingers together, and pulling you towards the staircase. He picked up your bag, carrying it with him up to his bedroom. You followed him in and he set your bag on the end of the bed.

“Alright, darling,” he said, rubbing his hands together gently, “make yourself at home.”

“Okay,” you giggled, stepping towards the end of the bed gently.

He’d placed your bag in the middle, next to a sweatshirt. You looked at him, making note of its presence.

“Oh, well, uh, you said you didn’t like hoodies, so I uh, pulled this one out for you, ya know, if you want it,” he said, shuffling his feet.

All you could do was smile, You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you. You kissed him gently, lingering for just a second.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

You turned towards the bed, stepping back from him.

“So what’d you bring?” he asked, one hand finding the zipper of your bag as he tried to get a peek inside. You were quick to stop his hands, not wanting him to see the box of tampons thrown on top.

“Things,” you said giggling, “teeth stuff, hair stuff, clothes, a book…” you trailed off.

“A book?” he laughed lightly, “what book?”

“Looking for Alaska,” you answered, “it’s my comfort book.”

“Well, you’ll have to read it to me,” he said with a glint in his eye.

“Okay,” you whispered with a sheepish smile.

“I’m gonna pop in the bathroom real quick, alright?”

“Of course, it’s your house,” you laughed.

In his absence, you changed clothes, dragging on your tiny sleep shorts and matching tank top and pulling his sweatshirt over the top. You moved your bag off the mattress, dropping it on the floor. He came back quickly, seeing your new outfit, and smiling widely.

“Looks good on you,” he grinned.

“Thanks,” you said, “can I take my makeup off?”

“Course,” he answered, gesturing to the bathroom.

While you did that, he changed as well, dressing in a new t-shirt and clean boxers; he didn’t want to get in bed with you for the first time in dirty boxers of course. He shuffled under the covers, tucking into his usual side and propping against the headboard. He scrolled through Instagram, reposting your stories to his own and liking a few posts of yours.

You returned, dropping your items back in your bag, and grabbing your book. You flipped off the overhead light and stepped into the other side, enjoying how utterly domestic everything felt.

He flipped on the lamp on the side table, opening his arm for you to rest against him. You settled against his chest, opening your book to start to read to him. He kissed your head and rubbed small circles into your arm.

Your eyes were getting heavy as you read, but you would gladly stay up all night reading with him. Unfortunately, he started to doze off, snoring just enough for you to hear. You closed the book, marking your page but knowing you’d have to go back a little bit tomorrow, and reached over to turn the light off.

He woke up a bit, grumbling, “what’re you doing, love?”

“Just turning off the light,” you whispered, “go back to sleep.”

He sank down to lay against the pillows. You dropped back over to your side, curling up, but leaving some distance between you two. You faced him, admiring his face as he slept.

“What’re you doing?” he grumbled, eyes still closed.

“What do you mean?” you giggled, “going to sleep.”

“No, c’mere,” he said, reaching an arm out to wrap around your waist.

He pulled you into him, tangling your legs together and pecking your cheeks. You giggled at him, pulling his lips to yours, kissing him goodnight.

“G’night, my love,” he grumbled, tipping his head back to rest his chin against your forehead.

“Night, Pony,” you whispered back.

He chuckled, squeezing you tighter before you both drifted off to sleep.

[thefanficmonster]

An Impostor In Love

Sequel to ‘Love For The Faceless’ (’Body Reveal’)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing (maybe)

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Rae can’t stay mad at her best friends forever. Them being absolutely adorable doesn’t help her ‘pissed off’ act either. Y/N’s outing Corpse like she’s a human lie detector. Corpse is gushing about her every second word that comes out of his mouth. And the rest of the lobby are getting one hell of a kick out of the Among Us romantic comedy - An Impostor In Love

Requested but, once again, not in a typical way. I honestly wasn’t expecting all the positive feedback I got for Love For The Faceless (Body Reveal). I was star-struck! You guys are so amazing I have no words to describe just how much I love you all! Thank you for everything! This story is for all of you 🥰🥰🥰

“Mr. and Mrs. ‘Totally not dating’ have entered the call!“ Sean announces when I hop into the Discord call to play Among Us with the usual gang. I hear Corpse’s laugh from down the hall, bringing a smile to my face.

We’ve gotten used to playing in this arrangement, a few rooms away from each other, ever since we moved in together - Corpse is in his recording room and I am in our shared bedroom. When one dies, they go in the other’s room to troll them. I’m usually the one dead, but that’s besides the point.

“Hi everyone!“ I say in my typical cheery tone before kicking it done a few notches, making it an octave deeper just to say: “Hi Rae.”

The whole lobby laughs, they all know what I’m trying to do here. Everyone’s aware this is the first time Rae is in the same call and lobby as Corpse and I after you-know-which incident. Sure, I’ve been poking sticks at her, waving a white flag and admitting I was wrong several times by now. Who knew my sweetheart best friend could act so cold? I know it’s a front. I know she’s fighting to stay mad. There’s a ton of pressure on her to finally forgive us, but she’s been holding up better than I would be if I were in her situation.

I honestly felt, and still feel, slightly guilty. I know best friends are supposed to tell each other everything. They are supposed to be the first ones to know whatever’s going on in each other’s lives. And I know I broke one of the main rules of friendships, but the decision wasn’t only mine to make. I’m sure she understands where I’m coming from, she’s just giving me and Corpse a hard time.

“Hello, Y/N.” She replies, her tone strictly formal.

“Progress, people! Progress!“ I say joyously, the smile turning into a grin 

“Don’t worry, babe. We’ll get her eventually.“ Corpse reassures me as he’s done for the past week or two. He knew I wasn’t as unbothered by Rae’s anger towards me as I tried to appear - a pro and simultaneously a con of living with someone: they pick up on everything about you. You become as familiar to them as the back of their hand.

“I know, I know.“ I giggle, “She’ll cave.“

“Yeah, good luck with that.“ Rae has dropped the formal tone, now sounding like a stubborn child which is something I’m way more familiar with. I’ve dealt with her tantrums and childish outbursts - I don’t know which number it is, but it’s somewhere in the rule book of friendships - and I at least the approximate meaning behind it. 

Ken puts an end to our friendly, stick-poking, sorta one-sided banter, ushering us to start the game. We all oblige, muting our mics and getting our heads in the game as though we’re about to enter an actual warzone with upmost stealth.

To my dismay, the screen flashes ‘Crewmate’. I head out of cafeteria to do my task in Weapons, staying weary of anyone within my proximity. Once I’m done, I head on down to Shields and complete my task there as well. I cringe when I’m done, knowing my last three tasks are in Electrical. Like, the fuck kind of luck do I have?

I make my way through the halls, running into Sykkuno and we circle around each other a few times to show we’re safe before we each continue our own way. I enter Electrical and.....oh Felix is dead. And oh lookie who’s right there...

I report the body before the impostor can and we all unmute our mics.

“Found him in Electrical.“ I say nonchalantly, “Didn’t see anyone in there though.“ 

“Anyone sus?“ Sean asks

We say our ‘no’s and ‘I don’t know’s and skip the vote. I’m smirking to myself as I head back down to Electrical. Walking in, I see the same person as before - Rae. I stop dead in my tracks and we just stare at each other for a few seconds before she comes towards me, circling me twice, bumping visors with me and venting out of the room.

“You’re welcome.“ I mumble, smiling widely.

I finish my tasks and leave Electrical just as Corpse enters our bedroom, giving me this tired-parent look like he’s half disappointed and half amused. “You just threw the game, didn’t you? Don’t lie.” He raises his eyebrows, fully adopting his parent role.

I giggle, shaking my head, sending him the briefest of glances before my eyes fixate on the screen in utter shock - Sean just killed me. Oh, for fuck’s sake...

“I was gonna come clean eventually, but I guess they won’t hear it from me now.“ I shrug, lifting my laptop and setting it aside so Corpse can join me on the bed. I snuggle up to him immediately, drawn to him as though he’s a human magnet.

“Who was it?“ He asks me, running his hands through my hair in a soothing manner.

I frown, pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, “Wait, how did you know I threw the game if you don’t know who I threw it for?”

He smirks, shrugging, “I didn’t know. You were smiling downright evilly when I came in so I just assumed.” He boops my nose. “And you ratted yourself out.”

I narrow my eyes at him, blowing some air out my nose - a gesture that has become my only way of showing anger towards him. I literally can’t even voice when I’m upset with him cause the grudge lasts like .5 seconds. I let him get away with more than he should.

Seeing as how I can’t argue to his statement, I lean back into his chest and pull out my phone to pass the time while I pretend to give him the silent treatment. Among my notifications is one for Rae’s stream. I smile and tap it, being taken to her YouTube channel and her live stream.

Just when the stream loads, Rae finds my dead body in Storage.

“Oh, nooooooo! Y/N!“ She wines as she goes over to it, “Sean must’ve killed her.” She reports the body and unmutes herself in game, “The body’s in Storage. I was on my way to call an emergency meeting cause I saw Sean vent in Security.”

“WHAT?!“ Sean exclaims in shock, “I didn’t! Rae’s lying. I swear I didn’t! I wasn’t even in Security!“

“Sean has been following me around this whole time. Just saying.“ Ken joins the discussion, throwing even more suspicion on Sean.

“We gotta vote someone.“ Charlie says, “Might as well be the most sus person at the moment.“

The voting results show all the little astronaut icons on Sean except his which is on Rae. Sean gets launched into space and the game continues. Having muted her mic in-game, Rae speaks up: “Y/N has been avenged. No one kills my best friend.”

I’m staring at my phone screen, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, a huge smile on my face. I take a glance at Corpse out of the corner of my eye and see he’s just as pleasantly surprised as I am.

“For those of you asking if I’m still mad at her and Corpse, the answer’s no. Actually, I think I was never mad. I was just in shock and a little hurt that I wasn’t made aware sooner.“ Rae says as she keeps wandering around the map, “Then I realized not talking to my best friend hurt more than the betrayal, you know. The only reason I still pretend is because it’s really funny to see her trying to soften me up.“ She laughs, “But yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without her or Corpse in my life. I love them both and love them even more together. My best friends are dating, I still can’t wrap my brain around that! They are sooo cute, you guys! I wish they posted more content of them together. I’m literally simping over their relationship! But shh, don’t tell em I said that.”

I laugh, overjoyed by what I just heard. I knew she couldn’t still be mad at us. I know she has every right to be, but she’s too sweet to actually hold a grudge against anyone ever.

I suddenly want nothing more than to give her an enormous hug and hold onto her for as long as she’d let me. I just now realize how lonely it feels to have never hugged your best friend because you haven’t hung out together in person. The only reason Rae now knows what I look like is because I sent her a full body picture of myself as one of my sad attempts to get her to start talking to us again. We have never met in person, and that thought kills me. It makes me impatient for this pandemic to end even more than before. 

“Told you there was nothing to worry about.“ Corpse’s arms tighten their hold on my body, pulling me even closer which I didn’t know was possible. The most fulfilling and endearing feeling - being in the arms of a loved one. Being held so close and so tightly that you feel like you’re untouchable. Like you two can’t be hurt by anything in the world as long as you have each other.

“Yeah, you were right.“ I sigh in content, putting my phone down and covering his hands with mine, our rings clinking quietly when they touch.

“As usual...“ he whispers theatrically with his lips against my hair.

I playfully roll my eyes, catching glimpse of the screen showing Rae’s demise. 

“Oh no, they caught her.“ I say, a bit disappointed she didn’t win and more than a bit responsible for her defeat.

I somehow manage to convince myself to get untangled from Corpse’s embrace and join the new round. I hear him groan as I settle my computer in my lap, unmuting my mic.

“See ya, kitten.“ Corpse kisses my temple, standing up.

“Oh my God, you two are too cute.“ Poki says sweetly, having heard what Corpse said to me.

“SIMP!“ Sean and Felix shout in unison causing the whole lobby to laugh. Corpse is as red as Rae’s avatar as he exists our room, running down the hallway.

“Ok, ok, ok. Hold on. I have to address this. I really hadn’t stepped foot in Security, let alone vented in there. Rae why were you lying?“ Sean’s voice cuts through the teasing directed towards Corpse and I.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Felix speaks up as well, making me break out in a nervous sweat, “Y/N, you literally saw Rae kill me, but you said you didn’t see anyone.“ He laughs, “Not gonna lie, I was a bit pissed.“

The call falls silent for about five seconds until Rae and I speak simultaneously.

“I was avenging Y/N.“

“I was helping Rae.“

Silence follows our statements, not for long though, as our friends break out in amused laughter.

“Fuck’s sake, you two make a good team.“ Sean says through genuine laughter which Rae and I soon join him in.

Felix and Sean and the rest of the lobby forgive us for throwing the game from both the crewmate and impostor’s side and we move onto another round. This time I have only one task in Electrical which I leave for last as always. I don’t feel like dying right from the get-go. I start by doing the card swipe in Admin and then the fuel task in Storage. As I make my way to Upper Engine, Corpse leaves Electrical, falling in step with me. I immediately get nervous, but still make my way to where I’m supposed to go, hoping he’d go his own way eventually. 

I stay wary of my boyfriend as I do my task, praying he won’t take my head off. When the task is finished, I find I’m trapped in the room with the doors shut. And Corpse right there. With every right and opportunity to kill me and vent. No one would know. No one saw us. 

That nervous sweat is back. 

I’m counting my last seconds of being alive.

And it happens...

A body is reported

“Oh than you so so so much! Corpse was gonna kill me in Upper Engine!“ I don’t let the person who reported the body speak, thanking them for my survival. “I was sure I was a goner.“

“Babe, come on now. You know I wouldn’t kill you even if I was an impostor. I love you too much.“ Corpse hurries to defend himself, “I’m following you around to keep you safe.“

I can tell he’s capping, but I have no concrete proof. He knows I’m onto him. His best bet is having me killed by the other impostor. He might have been capping the majority of his defense, but I know he won’t kill me.

“I’ll vote for myself because of that one.“ I mumble

The vote is skipped except the one vote I placed on myself and the round continues. I follow Corpse around the whole time, making sure he’s completing tasks - not that I can be 100% certain he’s actually completing them.

All is well until we walk into Admin and find Felix there, uploading data. Corpse, dead-ass, goes up to him and kills him, reporting the body right afterwards.

“IT’S CORPSE!“ I don’t give him a chance to start his brainwashing of the rest of the players. “Felix, this is my redemption for leaving your death unavenged last round.“

“Yeah, it’s me.“ Corpse laughs, that adorable laugh of his melting me despite the need to stay strong and carry out my argument, “Just vote me out so I can go troll Y/N.“

“Sounds like a plan to me.“ Ken says, the remainder of the crewmates, and the impostor probably, agreeing with him.

The votes are put in, all on Corpse obviously, and he is sent off into space. Not even five seconds later I hear his footsteps approaching. 

I look up when he pops his head in the room and says, “I have come to annoy you to death with my love for you.”

I can’t help but laugh, shaking my head. The things this man does to me are insane. It’s insane that I let him. 

It’s amazing, really. We’re amazing.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I pat the spot on the bed next to me, “I’ll allow it. But only cause I love you too.”

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis

[leviiattacks]

ceo levi falling in love?

author note :: THIS WAS SM FUN TO WRITE?? levi in the modern world is just always enjoyable for me. anyways it’s just lots of shy ceo levi and secretary reader :-) as always requests are open feel free to stop by !! :D word count :: some how i got to 2.4k,,,, i promise it was an accident it doesn’t feel that long 

levi falls in love slowly. he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until he looks at you one day during a company meeting and is unable to understand why he can’t take his eyes off you

usually he’s able to shift his focus away but he’s stuck in place despite his efforts to look away

the entire meeting is him occasionally humming his approval at all the proposals and prospective business plans being presented to him

when, truly he is NOT listening at all. he’s trying to figure out when the hell and why the hell he began to feel this way for you.

it gets to a point where he’s so distracted over it he ends the team meeting early

everyone in the room exchanges worried glances between each other.

mr ackerman, letting them leave early? that’s a first but HEY!! they’ll take it!!

as everyone disperses out of the room he’s sitting with his back hunched in his plush office chair when he then comes to the realization that he has no idea when he did fall for you,,,,, it just sorta happened????

well, you are basically around him 24/7 and help him with everything but, his newfound feelings still catch him by surprise

at first he’s scared. the feeling is odd and the way his chest tightens as he speaks to you doesn’t feel right at all.

“any specific type of tea for today?” you ask waiting for his response

the rope squeezes at his heart and he squirms around a little.

“u-um, the usual is just fine”

WHY DID HE TRIP OVER HIS WORDS...??

WHY...????

but AGAIN he ignores it, he knows it’s for the best if he doesn’t get emotionally involved with you.

for the record, levi’s definition of emotionally involved is dating you, he doesn’t know that despite not dating you he is very much still emotionally involved with you

he’s pretty good at hiding his feelings though and the fact he likes you goes unnoticed by literally everyone

well, it does stay that way for a little while

that is until someone else expresses interest in you.

it’s a normal friday evening but for some unknown reason he can’t stop himself from clenching his jaw when he walks past you and overhears jean the new head of marketing ask if you’re single

levi is stood behind you and turns to hand his chilling stare to jean who slowly notices. he looks like his knees are about to buckle. “?,&:£:& sorry for asking,,, i’ll...... get going......”

levi just grunts in annoyance glaring at him even as he scurries out the hallway.

you turn to look at him and happily smile “ahhh thank you, i didn’t know how to turn him down he just joined the team so you know, it was weird he asked that”

levi just nods and tells you to get back to work and he hears you squeak out a “yepyepyep!!!”

levi is also very in denial about the way he feels

one day it’ll be “yeah i like y/n” the next it’s “no i do not...that is literally SO stupid. me??? in love?? never.”

also, when you accidentally brush past his skin he can’t help but tense up slightly and look anywhere but where you’re touching him

one time you place a hand on his forehead to check on his temperature because you do not trust him to be honest about having a fever

the scent of your vanilla perfume it’s sweet and simple but it makes him feel incredibly shy for no reason at all

GOD.

he feels like a stupid flustered school boy

ALL THIS OVER SOME PERFUME??

the man can’t even handle looking you in the eye. he’s reading his paperwork acting as nonchalant as possible when he’s really just freaking out

is my forehead sweaty?

fuck, fuck, fuck how do i look up close?

his thoughts are so jumbled up he doesn’t know how to respond to you when you ask if he’s really doing okay

“your cheeks are bright red, maybe you do have a fever?” you’re frowning and rummaging through your bag hoping to find something to help his pounding headache

but all he’s doing as he sits at his desk is nervously opening and closing his pen by the lid

he can’t tell if his face is red because he’s ill or because he likes you

and it’s driving him CRAZY??

wait a second.

does he like you? or does he like-like you?? or does he lo- no he does not love you that is absurd

what really cements his feelings for you is the day he’s unable to reel his mouth back in.

he just starts rambling about everything that has been stressing him out recently

the new company merger, developing new product designs, reviewing humongous stacks of paperwork, attending all these long meetings

he is being driven to his breaking point and you stand there taking it all in

“hey, take the day off.” your soft voice cuts him off mid sentence and he looks at you like you just told him to curl up into a ball and die

take a day off???? he does not have the time to take a day off??

he assumes you’re frustrated by his behaviour and begins to apologize. “i’m sorry that was unprofessional i shouldn’t have don-”

“i’ll finish the paperwork. your next meeting is scheduled for tomorrow. it’s okay to take a breather.” you pick up the stack of documents and move to transfer them over to your desk

but levi is persistent.

he stands in your way and you look at him expecting him to step out

“there is no need for that.” his tone is firm but you’re still defiant

“it’s my job as your secretary to alleviate your workload.” you don’t even spare him a glance and he feels like he’s burdening you now

sure, you are his secretary but allowing you to complete all that work on your own is ludicrous

waltzing around him you beeline towards your desk but again he steps in your way interjecting your path

“lev-”

your face morphs into a mortified expression and you panic, you did not just call him by his first name AT WORK

“i mean,” [insert an anxious yet deliberate cough] “mr ackerman.”

“listen, i understand you’re very stressed sir but i’ll finish the work off so please rest up. you need to be refreshed for tomorrow’s company dinner with the investors.”

you’re pleading he takes your advice but all he can do is blink in confusion

you would do that for him???

are you really just diligent and caring or,,, does he maybe have a chance at asking you out?

but again as quick as the idea enters his head it leaves.

asking you out sounds absurd to him, you deserve way better than someone like him

levi is having another one of his jealous moments

you’ve latched yourself onto reiner braun’s arm at the company dinner and he turns away frustrated

you look really pretty

like,,, sUPER pretty

like,,, drop dead gorgeous

he clears his throat when you both make eye contact

you perk up a little and your hand raises to wave at him but levi is so horrible at interacting with you he ends up ignoring you completely...

the pit of fire in his stomach flares up when he hears reiner compliment you, he’s surprised you even accept it and thank him

now, levi is not annoyed because you don’t deserve the compliment.

no, no, no you deserve all the compliments under the sun as far as he’s concerned but what the hell does “you look way better than normal.” even mean??

he thinks you look pretty every day so he’s just a tad bit offended by it

and he only begins to realize he’s in too deep when he sees the way reiner is getting a little too handsy for his liking

he doesn’t interrupt by saying anything even though he really wants to, you seem to not mind reiner’s touch

so he won’t step in between that, it’s not even any of his business

but it certainly doesn’t stop his displeasure from being blatantly obvious and displayed on his face

“ahhh mr ackerman, if it isn’t a pleasure to see you?”

levi hears an investor greet him but his eyes are glued on you.

you’re laughing so hard at one of braun’s jokes and he feels the same flame in his stomach.

it’s rising and reaches his chest igniting once again and he narrows his eyes finally looking away

he’s not going to spare you another glance this entire evening instead he’ll occupy himself with business talk

“mr acker-”

spinning on his heel he twists around and is face to face to with one of his close sponsors erwin smith

he smiles and the two shake hands discussing new company developments and shared work stress before some how shifting to each other's personal lives

“seeing anyone?” erwin’s question makes levi stiffen and his eyes flick towards where you were just standing a while ago

you’re no longer there but he spots you a little further away now sitting alone

you look a little lost and he feels a sudden and strong magnetism

he wants to approach you to talk so badly, and as his eyes scan around the room he sees reiner occupying himself in a suggestive conversation with a lady from HR

she’s definitely trying to flirt and he’s reciprocating easily

oh, so you’ve been ditched...?

is reiner OK???

first the backhanded compliment

now he’s ditching YOU???

it makes levi feel a little angry and frustrated

he doesn’t even notice at first because he’s so deep in thought but erwin leans in to whisper in his ear. “i know that look, go talk to your crush.”

“we’re much too old for you to be using the term crush. it makes it sound childish.” levi grumbles before taking a sip from his wine glass

“i’ll go keep my secretary company. i’ve spoke to most of the other investors it should be okay.” the statement is more of a question but smith nods in response

“it’ll be more than okay, go get em’ tiger!” erwin lands a light punch onto levi’s shoulder and he grins before walking away

to levi’s disappointment he’s unable to speak to you

you end up getting dragged into conversation with some of the other employees and he doesn’t see you again

so much for talking to you, he couldn’t even get within a meters radius

he’s now out on the balcony for a breathe of fresh air, the past few hours have consisted of tedious and forced small talk with an investor’s daughter

her father has been BEGGING levi, even bribing him to consider marrying her but levi rejects every single time

there’s nothing wrong with the girl really

she’s well educated and quite pretty but... that’s all he knows about her?

AND no one beats you, even though he’s still kinda in denial about liking you

hell, not like that part matters he doesn’t even know the girl’s name what does her dad expect from him?

was it sharron? shana? he forgot her name as soon as it was said 

much to levi’s dismay he hears an unexpected giggle behind him and then an arm slinks over his shoulder, the investor’s daughter has followed him out and is now pressing her chest against him awaiting a reaction

frankly, he wants to push her off BUT he’ll be in big trouble and lose a key sponsor if he handles this incorrectly

“could you please distance yourself?” he tries to intimidate the younger girl away with the bitter tone of his voice but it only seems to motivate her

“feisty one aren’t you?” she’s looking up at him through her lashes and her poor attempt at looking appealing only makes levi internally face palm

her index finger is drawing circles into his tie and he feels his breath hitch due to how uncomfortable she’s making him

“please move.” he requests for her to listen once again and he’s now taken a step back but she only follows and keeps her firm grip on his tie

she doesn’t seem to be letting up and there’s nothing he can really do about it.

he guesses he’ll just wait till she gets bored but the time passes at an excruciatingly slow rate

in this fifteen minute duration she’s played around with his hair which has SERIOUSLY annoyed him because he took time to style it

and he thought it looked pretty cool

now she’s only pushed and pushed further and further into his chest and he can feel her hot icky breath hit his neck

the veins in his forehead are twitching in expanding irritation and he doesn’t know how much more of this he can tolerate

“you’re making him uncomfortable.” levi’s head snaps to the right and there you are still as beautiful as the last time he saw you

your arms crossed over your chest and you’re looking the girl up and down

“and who might you be?” the way she scoffs seems to be enough to piss you off because your face morphs into a scowl.

big Yikes...you’re mad

“leave him alone.”

“you must be of no importance, we have no time for-”

“step away before i make a report on the grounds of sexual harassment.”

you flip your phone out smirk plastered across your face

“it’s all been recorded. know your place.” you’re unyielding and even levi is thinking??? wow??? you know how to not be nice??? because well, he’s never seen you this mad 

just as you expect she barges out in a fury (not before flicking you off), you’ve left her brimming with rage and you feel rather proud of yourself

you release a content sigh

“do i get a raise for saving you or what?” you dryly jab 

he’s always loved your straightforward jokes, they align perfectly with his blunt humour

he murmurs his appreciative thanks

“are you enjoying yourself?” he asks the question eager to know what your answer is

it’s another way he knows he’s falling way too deep for his liking

he never asks anyone else these trivial questions

“enjoyable. although reiner is a little.” you pause to find the correct words

“he just made me a little uncomfy, he’s very extroverted so i felt out of place. thankfully he’s preoccupied himself elsewhere.” the same lonely look from before returns to your face 

yeah, it is kinda sucky to have your date ditch you

“you don’t have to tolerate-” levi starts then stops.

you’ve leant in to hear him after saying you can’t hear much over the hustle and bustle from inside

“the- i mean- what i’m trying to say is” he looks at you completely stunned trying to piece together what he wants to say

wOWIE!!!! you literally look so stunning up close he can not formulate a sentence, he has officially LOST IT

the words he say next fly out of his mouth after a lengthy internal struggle “fuck. what i’m saying is, what i mean is, you could always come as my date next time.”

now you’re the one looking at him stupefied.

again, he’s looking anywhere but at you

the closest he gets to it is taking a glimpse of your dress,

it’s black and suits you well with the little ruffles and all.

“i’d love that.”

the tips of his ears grow red in embarrassment but... YOU ACCEPTED???

NOW. levi is giddy on the inside but makes no move to make it obvious instead he opts to scratch his neck and give you an awkward thumbs up

you take note of his body language and the possible realization dawns on you

but you can’t really tell if it’s the doing of alcohol

either way you grab onto his suit and begin to lead the way back into the main hall

“may as well start being my date now? not like reiner’s coming back any time soon” he can’t see your face but he can tell you’re smiling as you speak

levi’s cheeks are bright red but he thanks the chilly night air and darkness for hiding the way he’s reacting

he won’t confess just yet, it’s too early and again he’s in major denial but when staring at the hand that holds onto his suit jacket his heart tingles a little

more like a LOT...

but really whatever it is the two of you have got going on right now it weirdly makes the both of you feel weak at the knees

to be honest, levi enjoys it

and so do you :-)

[drakenology]

Their S/O is shy. With Bakugo, Todoroki and Midoriya!

author’s note: HIIII! So I got this idea from work today. I’m a shy, reserved person in real life and I imagined a headcannon where y/n was an uwu girl. enjoy! I’m going to do the Bakusquad next time. 

warnings: suggestive themes, light violence, fluff, and cussing.

Bakugo 

thinks you’re the cutest

teases you a lot. 

will smack the shit outta anyone who tries taking advantage of your kind and shy demeanor.

loves how your shyness comes to play in the bedroom; he likes trying to get you to loosen up a little.

Would butter you up with compliments and praises.

“I dunno what you’re so shy about. You’re fuckin hot.”

likes how he’s the complete opposite of you

VERY protective over you. 

You and Bakugo are out at a restaurant on a date. You’re looking through the menu to see what you want, not being able to decide between the burger or the quesadilla (yum!). 

“I think I’m gonna get the steak. What about you, babe?” Katsuki asked, peering over to look at your menu. 

“I dunno.. I think the burger sounds good. I think that’s what I’ll get” You say, sitting your menu down. Bakugo is staring down your dress, oogling at your ample cleavage popping out of the v-neckline. You notice his gaze, blushing profusely. 

“S-Stop it, Katsuki.” You say, covering up your chest with your menu. He smirks and runs his hands up your thighs causing you to fold your legs to try and stop the wetness coming from your panties. Even though you never admit it out loud, you loved when he groped and stared at you. It made you feel like the sexiest woman in the world. Katsuki grabs your chin and kisses you.

“You’re gonna get it tonight, princess.” He whispered in your ear. You blush as you notice the waiter coming your way, swatting Katsuki’s hands away from you. The waiter walked towards your table and sat your drinks down.

“Thanks. Ready to order, babe?” Bakugo looks towards you. You nod, feeling a little nervous to order yourself. You were very soft spoken, so ordering food was a bit of a challenge for you. But today, you had worked up the courage to order without Bakugo’s help. 

“Hi, u-um.. I’ll have the burger, please. Also could I get that without any onions? I’m allergic.” You say, looking down at your menu instead of at the waiter. 

“Certainly. And for you, sir?” The waiter said, motioning to Bakugo.

“I’ll have the steak please. Well done. I don’t like my steak pink. If I see pink, me and my lady are leaving without payin’, ya got that!?” Bakugo said aggressively. To anyone not knowing him, they think he’s being rude and difficult but you know he’s just trying to make the waiter nervous on purpose as a joke. 

“Yes, sir. Coming right up.” The waiter says, leaving in a hurry. 

“Katsuki, you’re giving the waiter a hard time.” You say softly, your voice sounding like a disappointed mother. He sighed, grabbing your hand and kissing it. 

“Alright, I’ll lay off.” He said, laughing. You two chatter about what you guys did for hero work that day, laughing and enjoying each other’s company until the food came. Finally, the food comes; the aroma coating your nose as you get excited to eat.

“Enjoy.” The waiter said dryly, clearly not liking Bakugo’s attitude. You both shrug it off and prepare to dig in. Bakugo seemed to like his steak but your burger had onions all over it. Even if you had picked them off, it still wouldn’t have been safe to eat. You sigh, poking at your burger in disappointment.

“What’s wrong? How come you’re not eating?” Bakugo asked, his mouth full as he wiped steak sauce from his mouth. You shake your head, not wanting to make a scene. He looked at your plate, seeing your burger teething with onions. He’s way angrier than you are, waving the waiter over to your table with fervor. 

“K-Katsuki, I can just take them off it’s not-” You’re interrupted by Bakugo, who isn’t having any of it; already knowing what you’re about to say. The waiter clearly didn’t like Bakugo’s attitude so he messed your order up on purpose because he noticed how soft-spoken you are. He didn’t chance fucking up Katsuki’s order because he knew he’d have a fit and probably kick his ass if he got short with him. 

“No Y/N, it is a big deal. Look at it! It’s got onions all over it. You can’t eat that shit, you’ll get sick even if you pick ‘em off. I’m givin that asshole a piece of my mind!” He shouts, still trying to get the waiter’s attention who was clearly ignoring you two. 

“HEY! I KNOW YOU FUCKING SEE ME. GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, NOW.” Bakugo shouts. Oh god. The waiter rolled his eyes, walking over to your table.

“Is there a problem, sir?” He asks, not eager to help at all. 

“You’re fuckin’ right there’s a problem. What did my girl order, huh?” Bakugo says, standing from his seat. 

“Katsuki, please.” You say, tugging his sleeve trying to get him to sit back down.

“She ordered a burger.” the waiter answered with attitude. 

“Yeah, with NO ONIONS you idiot! GO TELL THEM TO FUCKING FIX IT OR I’M TELLIN’ YOUR BOSS AND YOU’RE FUCKED.” Bakugo yelled, grabbing the waiter by his collar. The waiter; scared out of his mind, is now sweating with fear. 

“V-Very sorry, sir. I’ll fix that for you right away!” The waiter said, running back to the kitchen to fix your order. Bakugo sat back down in his seat, going back to eat his steak as if nothing happened. The whole restaurant was staring at you both, you sinking into your chair from all the eyes on you. 

“THE FUCK ARE YALL LOOKIN AT!?” Bakugo yelled, getting everyone in the room to turn their attention back to their own tables. He looked back to you, seeing a frown on your face. 

“Don’t you think you went a bit too far?” You ask, crossing your arms. 

“Nope.” He said, feeding you some of his steak until your new burger came. 

“Nobody messes with my baby.”

Todoroki

is such a mom omg

just as protective as Bakugo (if not more)

encourages you to open up

supports your small wins (awww)

fucks the shyness outta you hehe

loves you and your shyness no matter what 

You and Shoto are getting ready to go out when you’re having a difficult time deciding what to wear. You had pulled out a few garments to wear; a red strapless bodycon dress that Shoto got you to accentuate them curves of yours or a simple bulky sweater and jeans. You were a little nervous to dress sexy for Shoto, unsure of yourself and your body not to mention all the potential unwarranted stares from others. You sigh and start dressing yourself in the boring outfit you picked out and sat down at your vanity to do your makeup. Shoto walked in the bedroom from your bathroom to see the dress sitting on the bed. 

“Why aren’t you wearing your dress, love?” He asked, concern written all over his face as he stood next to your vanity. 

“I-I just don’t want all the attention on me. I’m nervous. What if everyone stares at me?” You say, tears burning your eyes. Shoto takes you by your hand and leads you to the full body mirror mounted on the wall of your bedroom. He pushed your hair back and kissed your neck, running his hands on either side of your body. 

“You don’t have to worry about the stares. I’m going to be there to protect you, okay?” He says, sweetly kissing your cheek. You smile warmly and nod. He was right. You change into the dress and slipped on some heels to match, giggling at the praises and encouragement from your boyfriend as he reached for your hand to kiss it. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” Shoto said, taking a good look at your curves. He feels himself harden at the sight of you, involuntarily groaning as he pulled you close to him for a deep kiss. 

“How about we stay in tonight instead?” 

He was determined to make you open up... one way or any other teehee.

Midoriya 

loves you SO MUCH OMG

doesn’t care that you’re a little shy and soft-spoken

speaks for you when needed

stands up for you

loves to motivate you 

thinks you’re sinfully adorable

You and Midoriya are walking through the supermarket, shopping for food for your shared home. Izuku was always such a huge help, lifting all the heavy things and putting them in the cart or reaching for things that were too high for you to reach. You loved shopping with him and he loved it too because he could look after you and spend time with you at the same time. 

“Crap, I forgot we need meats for dinner tonight. What did you want again, Izuku?” You asked, looking up from your shopping list. 

“Pork, please. You always make the best pork curry, Y/N” He said sweetly, kissing your forehead. You blush and walk over to the meat department while Izuku gathers the rest of the ingredients for dinner. You stand in line with your number and waited your turn patiently. Suddenly, this big burly man comes out of nowhere and cuts right in front of you in line. You hated when situations like this happen because it was always so hard for you to stand up for yourself. You gulp and muster up enough courage to confront him...sorta?

“U-um excuse me.. I was ne-” You’re interrupted by the man shouting over you.

“Shut up, bitch! I’m in a hurry so why don’t you just wait a little while longer.” He yells. You’re shocked at how he spoke to you, clearly this man lacked manners. You stand there, dumbfounded and scared. You were so frustrated with yourself you’re brought to tears, wiping them away as you stand in line and wait your turn. 

“Bitch?” you hear a familiar voice repeat. It was Midoriya, standing beside you with your cart in toe. “You thought this woman was alone, didn’t you? Fucking coward.” Izuku walks towards the man, intimidatingly calm. The man scoffs until he sees Izuku’s face. The pro hero Deku was standing right in front of him and he was angry.

“H-Hey.. I had no idea okay? I’ll back o-”

“If it was me standing there would you have cut in front of me and called me a bitch?” Izuku asked, grabbing the man by his shirt. “You get off on bullying women don’t you, you spineless bastard? Think that just because your big and ugly that you can just push people around? People like you make me sick. Get in the back of fucking line before I lose my temper.” The man does so, glaring at you as he walked to the back of the line. You sigh in relief as your number is called, Izuku leading you to the counter with his hand on your back. He turned around and glared at the man who gave you a hard time one last time. 

“What would you like to order, miss?” The butcher said with a smile.

“Pork, please.” You sigh.

[abundanceofnots]

Ficlet idea: Now that Mickey’s using kevs gym he’s been giving guys tips from his prison workouts. Ian is NOT happy about the level of attention he gets when he stops by one day

(You can read this fic here, or on AO3.)

So, the KevFit membership was still a thing. Cool.

And, okay, listen. It wasn’t that Ian minded Mickey going to the gym. Of course, he didn’t. It was just the way this whole thing came to be that Ian wouldn’t call ideal.

Mickey liked to say Ian body-shamed him into working out, and frankly, Ian could see why he would.

They gave each other shit all the time. Laughed about hairy toes, prodded at each other’s saggy parts. And when they were both in the right headspace, it was just that—provoking banter. But Mickey, being the sensitive creature that he was, sometimes took it too close to heart.

And yeah, maybe Ian nagged him a few too many times about staying healthy after the lockdown started when Mickey’s only method of balancing out his liquid beer diet was riding Ian’s dick. But by then, it felt like they’d been occupying the same 1x1 bedroom for years, so it wasn’t exactly Ian’s fault.

If Mickey decided to go about it this way, great. Seriously. It only meant that Ian didn’t need to worry about getting his knuckles bruised anytime soon. And while he secretly mourned the loss of Mickey’s soft belly, he wasn’t going to complain. Not when Mickey looked the way he did now.

The thought was on Ian’s mind again that morning while he brushed his teeth over the bathroom sink, using the time on his hands to watch his husband in the mirror as he showered.

The curtain was only partially closed, just enough so that Mickey wasn’t splashing water around the tub while still leaving space for Ian to see him.

And boy, did he see him.

His broad shoulders. His arms stretching as he ran his hands through his wet hair. The dimples on his back. The marks Ian left on his ass when they fucked earlier.

When Mickey turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub, Ian found himself drawn to the little water droplets sliding over the Ian Galager tattoo and down his pecs, his abs, the V shape of his hips, and into his pubes.

Ian only realized he entirely forgot to move the toothbrush in his mouth when one corner of Mickey’s mouth curled into a teasing smirk.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Mickey asked, sounding smug as hell as he reached for his towel.

“Definitely not your ugly mug.”

Coming out all muffled, Ian’s words lost some of their intended edges. He angled himself back to the sink and spat.

“You have the tits of a 12-year-old girl,” he added quickly like there was a five-second rule for when you could still save your diss. He looked up just in time to see Mickey scrunch his face in mild outrage.

“Fuck off, these are C cups at least.”

“Like you're such an expert on those.”

Ian let out a low yelp as Mickey unexpectedly smacked his back, right around where his Monica tattoo was.

“Well, they're not your mom's tits, that's for sure,” Mickey noted through a sneer.

He then went back to drying himself, and Ian allowed himself to openly gawk at his slightly misty reflection again.

Several mechanical strokes of his toothbrush later, the thought came back, clouding his mind with an ugly feeling.

The intuitive thing would be to push it back and pretend like everything was okay, but they were married now and told each other shit, right? He had to say something.

“Going to the gym again today?” Ian asked eventually, trying to come off as noncommittal as he could with his mouth full and his eyes trained on the drain.

Obviously, he didn’t mind getting horny over his buff husband. No, the actual reason Ian was so bothered about all this was that other people now had free reigns to get horny over him as well.

You see, since Mickey started paying Kev’s gym his regular visits, he’d managed to attract a flock of followers. Fucking fans.

That, at least, was what Ian called them. Mickey, of course, didn’t see it like that. For him, they were paying customers.

“It’s easy money, man. And the crowd’s gettin’ bigger and bigger every week.” Mickey looked pleased as he wrapped the towel around his hips. “Anyway, it’s not like I have to do much. Most of the time, I just do my thing, and the bunch of ‘em stare at my ass.”

Ian bent forward and spat.

“So basically, they pay to jerk off your ego,” he pointed out, slumping his shoulders to show how totally unimpressed he was by that notion.

“’Xactly. And maybe something else, too.”

Mickey’s cackle followed him out into the hallway as he left Ian alone in the bathroom.

---

It was clearly a joke. A nasty joke that was supposed to leave a sting, but there was absolutely no need for Ian to worry. And he kept telling himself that all day—right until the moment he entered the badly-lit backroom of the Alibi and found himself in the company of a pack of Northsiders in designer label gym clothes.

Before he could spot Mickey anywhere among them, some blond guy in what seemed like an uncomfortably too tight a tank top came to his side.

„Looks like we have a newcomer in our midst.” The guy clicked his tongue, giving Ian an blatant once-over. “You here for the Mickeffect?”

„The what?“

„The Mickeffect. That’s what we call this class. Unofficially, of course, because the class is sorta kinda unofficial, too.” At that, he sniggered, which Ian immediately found annoying. “3pm, every Tuesday and Thursday. You from the Facebook group?”

Ian resisted the urge to scoff. “Uh, no.”

“Just lucky coincidence, then? Well, since you’re already here, I think you’re gonna enjoy yourself. The dude who leads this class is ex-con, so he knows all the right ways to abuse the body if you know what I mean.”

Clenching his fists inside the pockets of his sweatpants, Ian smiled politely and nodded. He wasn’t going to give this blond douchebag the satisfaction and punch him in the face. Not yet, at least.

“Hot as hell, too. And man, that ass. Simply de-licious. The whole thing actually only went off after I posted a video of him doing squats. Got 50k views in a day, a whole article on PinkNews a week later. The title was The Ex-con Hunk Who Makes Chicagoans Sweat Like Crazy – And Then Tells Them Off. Funny.”

The guy shrugged in this wannabe innocent you know how it is way. Ian was relieved to realize he really, really didn’t.

“We get new people all the time, but the return rate is terrible,” Blond Douchebag continued, amazingly. “Most of the boys come for Mickey but then leave with someone else. Maybe you’ll get lucky here, too.”

“I’m married,“ Ian retorted, hoping it would be enough to make him stop talking.

But Blond Douchebag didn’t even blink. “Yeah, so are some of the guys here. And he is, too, but I don’t think he’s the typa guy who would be deterred by that.“

Careful there, pal, Ian thought. Or you might find your pretty face landing very unprettily on a beer keg.

“Oh, hey!“

The familiar voice came out of nowhere, prematurely ending Ian’s plans to show this complete dickwad the practical meaning of the word concussion.

His head snapped to his right where Mickey was now standing, his eyes carefully roaming over Ian. There was a softness in them for a moment before his whole face morphed into a smirk.

„Came to learn something from the expert?” he teased.

Ian clenched his jaw. “Something like that.”

As Mickey moved past them, Blond Douchebag gave Ian a sly wink.

---

Ian wasn’t sure what kind of problems the snooty Northsiders could possibly be dealing with in their private lives, but this whole thing seemed to have almost therapeutical effects on them.

Mickey called them Ansel Elgort (not a compliment) or White Kanye West (also not a compliment) while he listened to their crap, and they giggled like teenage girls. He yelled at them for being pussies, and they were only a touch away from popping a boner. It made zero fucking sense.

And Mickey, well. The dickhead was so clearly giving them an upgraded version to his usual performance. Biting his bottom lip all the time. Flexing his muscles a little too hard. Grabbing everyone’s attention by letting out these exaggerated grunts.

Ian officially reached his bullshit limit when Mickey finished off a set of pull-ups and promptly took his shirt off to wipe his face. The way everything around him seemed to come to a stop for a hot minute had Ian’s eyes rolling.

It was totally ridiculous. Were these guys really so desperate?

Getting a better grip on the skipping rope he was using, Ian caught Mickey watching him, his brows arched, the dare behind them so plain and obvious.  

And yeah, okay, asshole. Two could play this game.

“You know what,” Ian started out loud so everyone could hear him. He let the rope fall to his feet and instead tugged his own shirt off. “We did things a little differently in the army.”

His grin widened when he heard one of the guys audibly gulp.

---

“Fifty!”

“One hundred!”

“Fuck off, you can’t do one hundred push-ups in one go.”

“With one hand behind my back.”

Maybe kneeling on the feet of two wheezing guys doing sit-ups wasn’t the best time to have a whispered shouting match with your husband, but honestly, Ian couldn’t give two shits. Mickey was seriously pissing him off—and like hell was he going to let him win. Even if it was just this one petty argument.

“You need stamina when you’re the top. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to do all the fucking work while the bottom just lies there.”

“Oh, oh, please! Tell us more about your workouts in the army. Was this before or after you tried to run away from there by stealing a damn helicopter?”

They were suddenly aware that their periphery vision got surprisingly still. Almost in tandem, they looked down at the alarmed expressions of their trainees.

“Did I fuckin’ tell you to stop, Asthma Boy?” Mickey grumbled at his guy. “Gimme three more sets of twenty!”

---

Blond Douchebag must have taken a genuine liking to him because he later offered to cover Ian as he pounded into the punching bag. And while he technically did hold onto the punching bag, his eyes were always on Mickey.

“Wonder who Ian is,” he mused as he observed Mickey’s topless form. “Think it’s the husband? Probably doesn’t even realize what a hot piece of ass he’s got at home.”

Too easy. It would be entirely too easy to pretend Ian’s hand slipped and he hit him by mistake, and he wasn’t going to stoop that low. He wasn’t.

Taking in a deep breath, Ian started punching harder.

He wasn’t.

“Everything okay here?”

Mickey had his shirt tucked under the elastic band of his pants, and from the corner of his eyes, Ian couldn’t help but notice the light sheen of sweat that covered his face and upper body. He wasn’t the only one.

“Oh, more than okay,” Blond Douchebag practically purred.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

“Whoa, Ian, hey.” Mickey sounded worried. “Take it easy, man.”

And fucking finally, that seemed to have done the job. Because Blond Douchebag wasn’t looking at Mickey anymore, he was looking back at Ian, and his bravado was long gone. Now, there was childlike fear in his stance, and Ian almost pitied him.

“Oh shit. You’re Ian,” he managed before the next punch landed right into his face, knocking him down on the floor.

Panting, Ian stood over him as he clutched his bleeding nose.

“Yes, I’m Ian,” he snarled at him. “And his ass is all mine.”

Someone gripped his arm then.

“Okay, the show’s over, Muhammad Ali. Better get out of here,” Mickey muttered as he pushed Ian across the gym, past all the Northside wimps who seemed too tired to do anything other than being in shock. “Come on. Ian, come the fuck on!”

From the Alibi, they ran. Sprinted along the streets and over honking cars, zig-zagged through commuters, and flipped off those who wolf-whistled at their half-naked bodies. They ran until they ended up in a dirty alley with no one else in sight, their sides on fire, and broke into a fit of laughter.

Ian only realized Mickey brought his shirt when he used it to slap his chest.

“Jealous fucker.”

“Shut the fuck up. Wasn’t jealous.”

But Mickey was still wearing that suggestive whatcha gonna do now smirk, and his lips were shiny from being licked over just a second ago, and so the next thing Ian knew, he was pushing him against a wall and kissing him thoroughly.

His hands went to Mickey’s ass, lifting him up just slightly as his fingers dug in, and Ian pulled back to let out a moan.

“Mm, I fuckin’ love your ass.”

Mickey groaned. “Jesus Christ, please don’t tell me all of this was because of my ass.”

Leaning down again, Ian murmured into his mouth: “Isn’t it always?”

[theyscreamjade]

Y’know those bodycon knitted sweater dresses that fits the body just right? Since it’s sweater weather, can I request smut or nsfw hcs of Bakugo, Hawks, Shinsou, and Kirishima reacting to their thicc s/o wearing it? That shit is making her figure look illegally sexy (it’s cupping her tiddies and cake too well 👀) and she’s wearing leggings or thigh highs that make her legs and butt look 🤤immaculate🤤. I just wanna see em go feral when she does mundane things for them in it like offering hot chocolate and snacks, watching tv and looking too damn fine, or bending over to pick up something and her ass (plus arch) is finna make these guys go ham 🌚

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year.

Ohhh! I see you’ve chosen death I see. I hope you love it! As a gift to you all, HERE’s FOUR ALMOST SMUTS.

Side Note: I wanted to expand it from just dresses and sorta incorporated it into various outfits and things.

Disclaimer: (almost) NSFW

————————————————————————————————————————

Katsuki Bakugo

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your heels clicked while you scanned around for presents to gift your friends Kirishima and Tsu, which was going to be a difficult issue. Unsure of what they’d like and since your boyfriend knew them a bit longer than you did, You thought he’d be a help. BUT! He was too busy standing over you like a guard dog and glaring at every person that looks your way.

“Katsuki, Come on. We need to find a gift.” You whined as his red eyes snapped down to your view. He scoffed before crossing his arms, looking towards another store. “Shitty hair likes anything I’ll fuckin give him.” He said as something caught your eye. “That’s perfect!” You said, rushing over to the store where you spotted a Crimson Riot jacket for him. Your hand picked up the tag before a arm lifted you up without hesitation. “Katsuki! Katsuki! Put me down!” You demanded, trying to keep the large sweater down.

He carried you straight to the dressing room, grabbing the jacket from the rack. With a sudden drop, your body accidentally slammed against the wall inside the empty dressing rooms. “What are you doing?” You questioned quickly as he pulled your body close to him, his lips inches from yours while your eyes locked with one another.

“I’d keep my voice down, Teddy Bear..” he said softly before smirking. His hand slipped underneath your dress, his fingers lacing with your panties. “You expected me to keep my hands off you when you’re wearin this?” He asked even though your words were in your throat.

His dominant demeanor was displayed within the private room while your panties slid their way down your legs while you prayed that no one would discover you two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hitoshi Shinsou

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hitoshi’s stare was intense, watching you while you joked with your friends Mina and Toru who wore pajamas like yours.

For some strange reason, Kaminari wanted to have a pajama party with everyone. Even though Hitoshi didn’t want to wear a stupid onesie with cats on it, you convinced him somehow. What you should’ve warned though, was what you’d be wearing and just how tight it was.

Denki suggested that everyone should sit down and watch a movie together inside his fairly large living room. You sat beside your boyfriend, leaning close to his open arms as his right hand wrapped around your waist. You bundled each other in a large fluffy blanket. Grinch played on the large tv while his hand slipped towards your thighs. Your breath hitched while you snapped your gaze to your boyfriend who stayed completely focused on the movie.

“Toshi..” you whispered softly before you felt fingers rub against your panties, almost making a moan slip from your mouth. You were about to question how in the hell did he do that yet..who said you wanted him to stop. “I can’t wait until they fall asleep..and I have you all to myself.” He whispered in your ear while the movie continued to play.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eijiro Kirishima

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your eyes sparkled, admiring the beautiful Christmas lights while the show hadn’t started yet. Kirishima wanted to have a relaxing day with you so he decided to take you out to the park to a beautiful Christmas light show. You basically walked through the park while thousands of lights sparkled and shined around you.

It was pretty late and everyone had disappeared, leaving you two lovebirds alone. The colors danced off your body while your outfit was rather..tight to say the least. Kiri tried his hardest to be manly and not crave the constant need to touch you but that ass looked scrumptious from afar.

“Sharky?” You called out, snapping him back to reality as he looked at you. “Yeah babe?” He retorted quickly, keeping his cool before you giggled softly. “Looks like we’re at the end, is there anything you’d like to do?” You offered with a smile. God, that smile you had just made him warm and fuzzy every time.

The sudden pop made you jump and face away from him as fireworks began to cover the dark starry sky. You admired the gorgeous flashes of light while you boyfriend wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. You couldn’t help but feel something hard pressing against your bottom, your eyes widened a bit as your boyfriend leaned in and kissed a small exposed part of your neck.

“I can think of a few things.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keigo Takami

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

You laughed softly, standing with your small group of colleagues. Mirko, Yu and Taishiro all stood with you, talking with one another like old time.

“It’s not the same without you, Y/N! You and I used to kick so many bastards asses together..” Mirko said, frowning at bit at your early retirement. You did retire pretty young, you were apart of the hero’s who was affected by One For All. He took your quirk and luckily you were found barley alive. Due to the incident, that’s how you met you husband by being his secretary.

“He’s living up to his her name.” Yu commented, pointing at the Pro-Hero who quickly snapped his gaze off you. You laughed softly at how adorable he was being even though it was a small gathering with all the hero’s. A Secret Santa party to be exact, everyone exchanged gifts and had fun with one another, discussing about either school things or villains butts they kicked.

You walked out of the large meeting room and walked towards the bathroom, walking inside. You examined your face closely, trying to fix the eyeliner smudges from laughing so hard when you heard the lock click. Your body spun as you faced his yellow ones. “Hey there, Kid.” He said with a smirk.

His hand gripped your ass, tugging the stitched fabric. You knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn’t going to stop until he did. “Keigo, We’re in public. What if someone hears?” You said quickly as he scooped you up and sat you on the cold sink.

“Then, Let them hear you Baby Bird..”

[secret-engima]

I’m interested in hearing more about that AU you told me about before- the RWBY/HTTYD fusion(?) where Oscar is basically Hiccup and Ozpin is the dadliest Nightfury ever :)

OH YES THAT WAS A FUN IDEA.

Okay so like- RWBY/HTTYD fusion kinda thing where instead of vikings there’s Remnant characters. And possibly Remnant’s world. Anyway dragons are a thing, dragons are something people all have strong mixed opinions on because most dragons are furious monsters that try to destroy human settlements at any turn, but there are stories and legends of a time centuries ago when dragons were peaceful and tamable and kind.

Oscar has no real opinion on the legends. He’s mostly scared of dragons after an attack of a huge flock of Terrible Terrors when he was a small child left his hands and neck all scarred up. Even so, he doesn't ... really hate them? They’re wild animals. They’re just angry ones. He and his Aunt are pretty good at keeping their farm unnoticed when a flock passes overhead and as long as it stays that way, he’s fine. Any stray dragon that comes by and starts making noises to set the barn on fire or steal livestock, his Aunt deals with it. She’s a good shot.

Then one day, his hideout is broken into.

Now, his hideout isn’t really a “hideout” it’s just the old barn that the farm doesn’t use anymore. it’s too far away from the house, right on the edge of their property. But nobody has a reason to go there, so as long as he’s careful, Oscar gets to use it as his own little clubhouse. He stores books in there, and notebooks to sketch in, and all the junk he likes to tinker with because he likes building things on the side. His aunt says that maybe someday he can get a scholarship to a proper school for engineering and stuff.

He’s always careful not to store food in there, so that the wild animals of any kind have no reason to try to get in, and he locks it when he leaves.

So he is understandably VERY surprised when he comes in and finds a DRAGON on the floor of his hideout, having apparently broken in through the old window on the upper floor. The dragon stirs when Oscar gasps in fear, moves faster than Oscar can think and suddenly Oscar is pinned by a dark paw as the dragon looms over him with bloody, sharp teeth and furious gold eyes.

So this is how he dies then.

He squeezes his eyes shut with a whimper, waiting for the half-remembered agony of being mauled by a dragon to start (it had hurt so bad as a child and this dragon was so much bigger than a Terrible Terror-).

Hot breath on his face and then instead of pain, a low noise that was too soft to be a growl. Oscar whimpers again because please, please don’t try to eat him alive or something, but instead of pain the paw just leaves his chest and when Oscar dares to open his eyes and sit up, the dragon has limped away to curl up in a corner of the hideout again.

....Dragons aren’t supposed to let humans live.

......They probably aren’t supposed to look so exhausted and in pain and bloody either.

Oscar knows he should run. Go get his Aunt so she can come put the dragon down before it changes its mind and hurts him but-. The dragon looks at him, and gold eyes aren’t furious anymore. Just resigned. Scared. The dragon looks like it’s been on the losing side of a very bad fight with something that wasn’t human. There are gashes where scales have been clawed away, and when its tail slides slowly to curl around its paws, Oscar can see its missing a tail fin.

...Was this dragon attacked by other dragons?

Curiosity and pity make Oscar hold his silence as he backs slowly out of the barn and shuts the door behind him. He ... maybe it will go away in a few hours. Once it’s caught its breath.

He peaks in that evening and finds it hasn’t. It’s curled up tightly in the same corner, and he’s pretty sure the dragon is shivering.

He should REALLY tell his Aunt about this.

He brings it a small bucket of fish from the farm’s massive pond the next morning instead.

The dragon looks at him in open surprise and takes the fish as politely as a well trained dog. When it stands up again Oscar flinches, but all it does is sniff at him and then start licking his hair and Oscar yelps from shock more than fear. It’s like a switch has been flipped and even though the dragon is still exhausted and injured, it gently wrestles him down to give him ... a bath? A dragon bath. The dragon is purring while it does so. Oscar takes it as a form of thank you and has to work hard to snag a shower before Auntie Em can see him covered in dragon drool.

It takes a few more tentative visits to realize that 1. the dragon can’t leave because he can’t fly anymore, 2. he’s not actually black like Oscar thought, but a really deep, rich green in the sunlight when the dragon sneaks out to the old back field for a sun nap, and 3. Oscar is pretty sure he’s been adopted by the dragon. It (he, the dragon is a he), keeps cooing at him and trying to follow him and giving him tongue baths and offering him regurgitated bits of fish, which Oscar frantically turns down each time.

He names the dragon Ozpin, after one of the few dragon stories he knows where the dragon isn’t a horrible monster, and the first time he uses it, Ozpin reacts like it’s always been his name.

Oscar realizes halfway through designing a new tail fin for Ozpin that 1. this design is going to need a rider and 2. he’s had a dragon for about three months now and still hasn’t told his aunt. That ... will probably come back to bite later. But by now he’s more afraid of her reaction over the delay than her reaction over the dragon. So he keeps putting it off.

He kinda sorta really wants to ride Ozpin before his aunt can shut the idea down.

Ozpin expected to die that night he fled. Hundreds of seasons he’d managed to keep ahead of Salem, his mad former mate, freeing dragons from her control in twos and threes and hiding them away where she would not find them again, and she had finally caught him. He had been betrayed. Willingly. Leo’s eyes had been clear as day as he stood by Salem’s side, not glazed with her hate and control, and that hurt almost as much as the claws of her horde of dragons (always a horde, never leaving the risk that she will have to fight him alone, because she knows that in an equal fight, he would win, just like he almost had last time) tearing apart his scales, driving him from the air before he managed to fight some of them off and escape.

He’s not sure when he lost his tail fin. But that is a death sentence to a dragon like him. A dragon who cannot fly is a dead dragon, either by starvation, by Salem, or by the humans who have long forgotten what it was like to be friends and companions to dragon kind.

Ozpin wakes up in a human structure and can’t remember how he got in, but he hears movement and pained instinct drives him up to attack (what if it’s Salem, what if it’s one of her scouts, a poor dragon that Ozpin is too weak to free from her control and will have to kill to save himself like the coward he is-).

A child.

A human child.

Oh. Oh dear.

He really is going to die.

Ozpin removes his paw, hoping he didn’t break any fragile bones (human hatchlings were so *delicate*, he remembered that even after so long) and slinks to a far corner. He could run again, but he’s too tired and too heartsick. Let the boy call his parents.

At least the humans would probably make his death quick.

Except the boy does not call his parents, he leaves and pokes his head in hours later as if to check if Ozpin is still there. He leaves again and the next morning arrives with a bucket of fish to feed him. It is strange and kind and strange because it is kind and when he sniffs at the boy in curiosity, looking for a reason, the child doesn’t run, just flinches nervously. He smells of only one guardian and no other hatchlings. He smells nervous and a bit frightened and ... lonely.

Ozpin finds himself gently pulling the child close and bathing him before he can think better of it, and it is foolish, to risk claiming another human hatchling, he hasn’t shared his Life with a Rider in a long long time (not since Salem killed the last one before his eyes back when he was young and foolish and still thought he could call her back from the edge of madness), but he is so grateful and lonely and this child is all but aching with the need for love. Why else would he risk bringing Ozpin food when all the stories men tell nowadays are of how dragons are bloodthirsty monsters?

The boy keeps coming back, bringing just enough fish to take the edge of Ozpin’s hunger, and even though his days are numbered, Ozpin stays and croons and tries to impart love on the child who is so lonely he would befriend a monster. He lets the boy tentatively climb on him and touch his scales, even lets him inspect Ozpin’s injured, ruined tail. He can’t help it. He always loved hatchlings, human or dragon, and it’s been so *long*-.

The boy takes to sketching and building ... something. Ozpin isn’t entirely certain what. He almost jumps out of his scales when Oscar (that was the boy’s name he learned at last) calls him Ozpin, calls him by name, and then learns that there still are a handful of stories of the Old Days. Dismissed as myth now. It’s amusing to be named after himself.

Ozpin frets quietly over the child sometimes, because while he can smell a guardian on him, he has never seen this guardian, even from afar. He knows this barn is on the edge of Oscar’s little territory, but even so, what guardian lets her hatchling wander off so frequently and never thinks to check on him? Sometimes Oscar falls *asleep* in here, curled up against Ozpin’s side and tucked under a wing, and only wakes up when Ozpin nudges him up because he can hear the far off bell that he thinks means it’s time for his hatchling to go home and eat.

He wishes Speaking Stones still existed. That he’d managed to save more of them, or that he was able to fly and get one. The only way to exchange true words without a Speaking Stone would be a Rider bond and- and he can’t do that to Oscar. It wouldn’t be fair.

He doesn’t deserve to be dragged into a war for freedom of mind that Ozpin and dragon kind has been losing for seasons upon seasons.

Except the child doesn’t seem to think so, doesn’t even know what he flirts with when he tentatively drags in a rudimentary replacement tail fin and saddle as well as a harness to connect them.

Ozpin tries to reject it. As much as he wants (needs) to fly, it’s too dangerous. The boy pouts and sets the harness and gear aside, muttering to himself that he’ll just leave it in the barn for a while until “Ozpin gets used to the smell”.

Ozpin snorts. Because he is not a dog that can be tricked into forgetting something exists thank you.

Oscar sticks his tongue out at him. Adorable, feisty, silly little hatchling.

[imjustwritingg]

no doubt in my mind

Happy Valentine’s Day babes! Here’s a fun and sorta fluffy one shot with our favorite couple to celebrate the day. Based loosely on the song “Make You Feel My Love” by Adele. Enjoy and let me know what you think! 

Also here: AO3 and FanFic.Net

It’s been a month of them and their new thing, and as much as things had changed between Hailey and Jay, things had also remained just the same. Their dynamic in the field hadn’t faltered once since the first night they’d gotten together. If anything, their partnership had only grown stronger. The lingering looks, the way they could communicate with one silent glance, a simple placement of a hand on a shoulder to let the other know they were there.

They were sure no one had noticed a change in their relationship. So sure up until the point the door to their Sergeant’s office opens suddenly one afternoon and he stands in the doorway with a vacant, unreadable look on his face.  

“Upton, Halstead. My office for a sec.”

The pair share a quick glance before they stand from their desks and follow after their boss into his office. He nods at the door and Jay closes it behind them. Hank sits back down behind his desk while the partners stand on the other side of him, both of their arms crossed in front of them and waiting. They watch as Hank reaches into his desk, pulls out some paper, and then leans forward and hands them to Hailey and Jay. They glance down at the sheets as soon as they have them in their hands. It’s hard to miss the words printed in bold at the top of each sheet.

Chicago Police Department: Workplace Relationship Disclosure & Declaration

Hailey and Jay lock eyes again, both inhaling a deep breath, and then Jay looks back at the man behind his desk.

“Sarge, we - “

Hank holds up a hand and Jay goes silent. He’s been in this position before, he and Hailey both have, and he’s not so sure of how this will play out given the unreadable look on their boss’ face. To say it makes him nervous would be the biggest possible understatement.

“I’m only gonna say this once,” Hank starts, looking between the couple in front of him who nod once at their boss and wait for him to continue.

“You both might just be two of the best detectives I’ve ever worked with, the leading officers on our team aside from me. The job comes first and you don’t jeopardize this unit. Do you understand?”

Jay and Hailey share another look, but nod their heads regardless. Neither quite exactly sure as to what is happening or how it could be this easy.

“That’s it?” Hailey finds herself asking the older man a second later.

Voight sighs then, looking between the two again. There’s a fleeting smile that appears at the corners of the man’s face. He looks almost nostalgic for a moment before he speaks again.

“After everything this team has been through over the last few years, after everything we’ve lost,” Hank sighs again as he looks between the two.

“Look, anything outside of Intelligence and the job, relationships or whatever you guys do on your own time. I gotta tell ya, I just don’t care anymore. Fill these out. Give ‘em to Platt for the Ivory Tower. That’s it,” he tells them.

Hailey and Jay glance at each other again, both of them breathing a silent sigh of relief. This certainly was not what they’d expected happening when this conversation started. They turn and head for the door, but just as Jay is about to pull it open he turns back around to face his boss. He just can’t help himself.

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve got eyes Jay,” is all their Sergeant says.

Jay nods once, glances at Hailey, who just offers a small smile, but doesn’t say anything, and then he looks back at Voight.

“Thank you,” Jay tells him and Hailey nods her head, a silent thanks of her own.

It’s not lost on either of the three of them the weight those two simple words carry.

Thank you for not splitting us up. Thank you for not kicking one of us or both of us out. Thank you for understanding.

Hank leans back in his chair, a smirk on his face now, as he looks at his two detectives.

“Believe me, it’s not lost on me the number of partnerships that have crossed lines in this unit. I shoulda been a matchmaker instead of a cop. And send the other two lovebirds in on your way out, will ya?”

“Copy you,” Hailey tells him, and then her and Jay turn head for the door. Jay shakes his head in near disbelief at the outcome of the conversation as they re-enter the bullpen.

“Voight wants to see you two,” Jay calls out, nodding in Adam and Kim’s direction as he stands in the aisle next to his and Hailey’s desks.

The other couple shares a similar look of concern, but head for Voight’s office, closing the door behind them. The disturbance makes Kevin stand from his desk and walk up to Jay, noticing the sheet of paper in his hand.

“What’s that about bro? Y’all good?” He asks. He glances down at the paper in Jay’s hand and catches the words “workplace relationship” before Jay puts it away inside his desk.

Jay nods quickly. “Yeah, all good.”

The officer glances between Jay and Hailey, noticing the same sheet of paper on the blonde detective’s desk before she drops it in her drawer and closes it. He looks back at Jay.

“You and Upton? Like, you and Upton?” Kevin asks, his eyes widening.

Jay looks over at Hailey, notices her flushed cheeks and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. The two lock eyes and the look doesn’t go unnoticed by Kevin, who shakes his head in disbelief, not thinking his suspicions of the pair over the last few weeks were in fact true.

“Well, alright then,” is all Kevin says. He picks up his coffee mug from his desk and makes his way to the break room, leaving the partners to themselves.

“That was not as bad as I thought it would be. Definitely expected worse,” Jay says a moment later as he sits on the edge of Hailey’s desk.

“Yeah,” she says as she exhaled a long breath. She’s still a bit caught off guard and the words of their Sergeant are playing on a loop in her head.

“Molly’s tonight?” Jay asks her a moment later, noticing her deep in thought.

Hailey’s being just a little too quiet for his liking, considering the confrontation they’ve just experienced, and that nervousness from Voight’s office is beginning to creep up on him again. He can’t help wondering if she’s starting to second guess this new thing between them. That maybe she’s having regrets and it scares him. He can’t lose another partner. He can’t lose her. Not now.

Hailey turns her head to look up at him, grateful for the distraction and momentary cease of Kevin’s gaze and the eyes of Voight, but soon scrunches her face in realization.

“You know what today is right? That place is gonna be a mad house tonight,” she tells him.

He does in fact know what today is; it’s Valentine’s Day, their first together, and potentially their last given the look on her face and the uneasy feeling he has rising in his chest.

Jay just shrugs, trying to play it off, with a smirk peeking out over his face. “It could be fun and the others are going.”

“Never would have pegged you for the type to wanna celebrate Valentine’s Day,” she tells him.

“Well, if it makes any difference, they’re doing half price pints and they even got a food truck catering from Offset BBQ tonight.”

“What about Offset BBQ?” Kevin asks as he walks out of the break room with a fresh mug of coffee.

“Food truck at Molly’s,” Jay says before standing from Hailey’s desk to sit back down at his own.

“Ah yes, and half price drinks. You can’t pass up half price drinks at Molly’s. Can’t pass up the opportunity to see Herrmann go off the rails over it either,” Kevin tells them as he returns to his desk.

Hailey smiles at Kevin, knowing he’s right, and feeling relieved over the fact that the man doesn’t look at her differently or ask any questions about her and Jay.

She turns around in her chair to look back at her partner. “Fine, but if it gets too crowded I’m bailing.”

Jay just smiles at her and nods his head, and they go back to their jobs and the seemingly never-ending piles of paperwork they have to do. He can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling still bubbling inside of him at the way the woman across from him remains quiet and doesn’t look up at him again for the remainder of the afternoon.

By the time their shift is over and the last of the paperwork has been done for the day, Jay and Hailey are the last ones in the bullpen. The others had left a short while earlier, even Voight had already called it a night.

“You ready, Hails?” Jay calls out to her as she returns to the bullpen from the locker room.

“Yeah, just had to grab my bag,” she tells him, a duffel slung over her shoulder.

The pair shut down their computers and put on their coats, and then head down the stairs. They don’t say a word to each other as they make their way out to the parking lot to his truck. It’s just as quiet on the short drive over to Molly’s and by the time he finds a parking spot down the street from the bar, he can’t take the silence anymore.

“We gonna talk about it?” He asks her as soon as the truck is in park. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns his head to look at the blonde, but she just quirks an eyebrow up at him.

“The conversation with Voight,” he answers her unspoken question.

“Do we need to?” She asks a moment later.

That’s not exactly the response he was expecting and it surely doesn’t help calm the nerves he’s been feeling all day.

“I just wanna make sure we’re on the same page. We’ve been doing our thing the last month or so and it’s been really great. At least I think it’s been really great, but we haven’t talked about what exactly that thing is either.”

“So you wanna put a label on it?” She asks, trying to hold back a smirk and failing to do so.

“I just don’t wanna assume anything,” Jay tells her, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“What exactly are you assuming?” She presses.

Jay can tell she’s pushing him by the look in her eyes and he’s nervous again. He knows there hasn’t been anyone else for her since that night in the bar when he first kissed her. There hasn’t been anyone else for him either. The fact that they’ve spent every night together at either of their apartments since that first night solidifies that for him. He’s also sure that what they have, this new thing between them, isn’t just some fling between co-workers out of convenience or opportunity. There’s no doubt in his mind about that.

Jay wants to believe it’s the real deal between them, that Hailey is it for him, despite her quiet behavior and the nerves he’s been feeling all day. He takes a deep breath and then he takes the plunge to hopefully solidify what they’ve been doing and make it official.

“You being my girlfriend,” Jay tells her. His eyes are on hers and his heart is pounding so loud in his chest that he’s sure she can hear it.

“Jay,” Hailey says, her voice soft and quiet and he suddenly feels like he can’t breathe. Maybe he had been wrong.

“I already filled out that form,” she tells him a second later.

“What?”

“When you and Kev took those boxes of CI files back down to the file room,” she explains as a smirk forms on Jay’s face.

“And what exactly did you write on the form?” He asks her.

“That you’re my boyfriend,” she says with a shrug as if her answer should be obvious.

Jay raises his eyebrows at her response and she gives him a playful roll of her eyes. She unbuckles her seatbelt and leans just slightly over the console between them. She grabs his arm to pull him towards her and they meet in the middle.

“I know I’ve been acting weird since we talked to Voight, but not for the reasons you think. I like you Jay, I really like being with you, and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way, and it seems pretty clear to me what we’re doing, so yeah. I declared you as my boyfriend on that form. Is that okay with you?”

Jay grins at her just before he closes the remaining space between them and captures her lips with his own. He brings his hand up to hold the side of her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek for a moment before he slides his hand to the back of her neck. He quickly deepens the kiss, earning a moan from his partner, and then feels her hands on the front of his jacket. She pulls him as close to her as she can considering the middle console that is wedged between them now.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” Hailey whispers against his lips a second later.

“You can take that as a hell yes,” he tells her before kissing her again.

When they separate again, they’re grinning, both of their dimples out on display.

“Gotta say, I was a little nervous there for a second,” he admits then.

She reaches a hand up to the back of his neck, the tips of her fingers brushing through his hair, as she looks him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t because of you or because I was rethinking us. After we talked to Voight, all I could really think about was a conversation I had with Platt actually,” she tells him a small smile.

His eyebrows raise at that. “What conversation with Platt?”

He feels her fingers slip away from the back of his head and she leans back just slightly before taking a deep breath.

“It was a while ago, back when Adam and I were doing whatever we were doing. Platt said that if he was the one that we’d have to make it work. And that if we wanted to be together, one of us would have to leave Intelligence,” she tells him. He nods slowly at her in understanding and then she continues.

“And after what Voight said, I guess I just got lost in my own thoughts and feelings. I know I wouldn’t have given up Intelligence or the job for Adam, but for you? It wouldn’t have been a very hard decision for me and I was ready to make it today in Voight’s office. And I guess it kinda just scared the crap out of me.”

He’s smiling at her now. A wide grin taking over his face as he looks at her with so much admiration and happiness and love. She had chosen him over the FBI. She would have chosen him over her career today. She’s chosen his side countless times before.

“I love you,” he whispers to her then.

He says it so easily, like it’s not the first time he’s uttering those special words to her, and the look she wears on her face after he says them makes him smile like an idiot. He doesn’t care that they’ve only been together a month. He doesn’t care that to others he may be rushing things. He knows it’s been much longer than four weeks that he’s been feeling this way, and not just for himself, but for her too.

He leans towards her again, hanging back just enough to still look her in the eyes, and he brings a hand back up to the side of her face. She’s got tears in her eyes, but they’re shining bright blue, and she smiles back at him just the same.

“I love you too,” she whispers back before closing the space between them again and kissing him hard on the mouth.

When they separate moments later with shallow breaths, they’re still grinning at one another and his hand is still holding her head just centimeters away from his.

“Really wish we didn’t have to leave this truck right now,” he tells her remembering where they are. His voice is so deep and gruff that it sends a heatwave through her almost instantly. She nods in silent agreement before giving him another quick kiss, and then leans back into her seat.

“Let’s go. The sooner we get in there, the sooner we can leave,” she says with a wink and he just smirks at her.

They exit the truck and make their way up the sidewalk side by side and shoulders brushing. When they reach the door to the bar, Jay holds the door open for her, placing his hand on her lower back over her coat and guiding her inside.  

When they enter the bar, they’re not all that surprised to see a slight crowd inside just as expected. The twinkling string lights shine bright from the ceiling, and familiar faces from the district and firehouse scatter the bar and tables.

Jay uses his height to his advantage given the crowd and quickly spots the rest of their team at the back of the place. He drops his hand from Hailey’s back and reaches for her hand hanging at her side. He gives her fingers a quick squeeze to get her attention, letting go of them when she looks up at him. He nods off in the direction of their friends and Hailey follows him to the back wall.

“Tell me one of those is for me,” Hailey says in greeting when her and Jay arrive at the table.

They’re met with hello’s and smiles from Kim, Adam, and then Kevin, who grins back at the blonde. He nods down to two pint glasses full of beer and foaming at the top.

“Of course, help yourselves,” Kevin tells the pair.

Hailey and Jay each take a glass, and then take a seat next to one another on the remaining stools at the table. The group begins making small talk and when Adam starts in about the case they just wrapped, Kevin raises a hand to stop him mid-sentence.

“Hold up, the only shoptalk I wanna hear about is those lovely little forms y’all got from Voight today,” Kevin says as he brings his glass to his lips.

Hailey and Kim both shake their heads, amused smiles on their faces, while Jay nearly chokes on his beer as he’s mid-sip and Adam throws his head back and groans.

“Man, come on,” Adam says.

“You two? I get. Lot of history there,” Kevin starts pointing between Kim and Adam.

And then he turns and looks between Hailey and Jay. “But you two. Y’all have been in sneaky stealth mode and I don’t like it. I thought we were all friends here. I mean, I had suspicions, but how long has this been going on for exactly? Inquiring minds need to know.”

Jay just shakes his head, an amused smile on his face, and Hailey laughs.

“You really wanna know about our love life?” Jay asks before he takes another sip from his glass.

Hailey’s eyes dart to Jay at the mention of the word, thinking back to their exchange from minutes before outside. She moves her free hand from her lap to his knee, not caring about PDA – it’s not as if anyone can see the gesture anyway. Jay glances over at her at the contact and she just smiles at him before turning her attention back to the group.

“Ya know, Kev has a good point. I’d like to know that as well. I mean, Kim and I assumed, but we didn’t know for sure until today,” Adam chimes in while Kim just nods in agreement with a smirk on her face.

“The three of you are relentless,” Jay says before glancing at his partner.

“Yeah, there’s nothing really to tell,” Hailey says with another casual shrug hoping they’d back off, but knowing they won’t.

“No, no, no. There’s definitely something to tell. Come on, it’s us,” Adam pushes with a boyish grin.

“Exactly,” Jay teases, pointing in the officer’s direction.

“At least tell us who made the first move because my money is totally on Hails,” Kim says.

“Well, you’d be right about that,” Hailey tells her with a grin.

“Yes! Ladies for the win!” Kim yells out and the two share a high five across the table.

Adam shakes his head in mock disappointment and Kevin runs his hand over his face before looking back at Jay.

“Bro, you didn’t make the first move? What’s the matter with you?”

“Well, she’s my partner for one,” Jay says as if it’s obvious. All he gets in return are eye rolls and a shake of heads from all of them except Hailey, who just smiles at him and squeezes his knee under the table.

“Semantics,” Adam chimes with a wave of his hand.

“Ok, so I was a chicken. Happy now?” Jay says as he takes another drink from his glass.

“In his defense, he did kiss me first. I just had to give him a little push in the right direction,” Hailey tells them, bumping her shoulder against his and smiling coyly at the memory of that night in the bar.

“Alright, so hold up. I gotta ask, am I the only one here that hasn’t slept with their partner? Is that like some Intelligence initiation thing? Because if it is, I’m pretty sure I missed that in the employee handbook,” Kevin says glancing between the two couples who break out laughing.

Jay shakes his head, a grin still on his face. “Shut up, Kev.”

“I’m just saying. I’m the only one here not getting any. And it’s Valentine’s Day. That’s just a damn shame,” Kevin says as he surveys the bar. “Ya know what, y’all enjoy the rest of your evenings. I’m gonna go and find me a lady friend of my own.”

Kevin shoots them all a wink and a bright smile, and they say a quick goodbye before he stands up and heads off into the crowd.

“I’m assuming you guys got the same speech we did from Voight then,” Adam says a moment later looking over at Hailey and Jay. The pair glance at one another briefly before nodding.

“Man, the way things have changed. Voight’s getting soft on us,” Adam tells them, bringing his drink to his lips.

Jay shakes his head, his hand moving over top Hailey’s under the table and giving her fingers a squeeze. “Not sure if that’s it exactly. I think the unit, us, is all he has left. We’ve lost a lot over the years. I think he just doesn’t want us to lose anything else.”

Adam nods and Kim smiles back at him, and he feels Hailey’s fingers tighten against his.

“I’ll drink to that,” Adam says then, raising his glass. The other three nod and raise their own drinks. They clink their glasses together and then drink, and dive in about hockey and work and swap stories about their friends – their family that are no longer with them.

After another round, Kim and Adam make their way to the bar and get distracted with talking to some of the firefighters from 51. The crowd has only grown larger and the volume of chatter around them makes Hailey turn and lean into Jay so she’s leaning over his shoulder.

“Wanna get out of here?” She asks against his ear.

He gives her a nod and the pair stand from the table. They weave their way through the crowd and say a quick goodbye to their friends, and then head for the door.

As soon as they’re outside, Hailey leans into Jay as they head for the truck. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, holding her against him as her arm snakes around his waist.

“Ya know what I just realized?” He asks her as they walk down the sidewalk.

“Who knows,” she teases. He slides his hand down her arm just enough to poke his fingers into her side, tickling her ribs, and she squirms against him.

“What did you realize?” She asks him, giving his side a squeeze.

“We’re one of those cheesy cliché couples that say I love you and make things official on Valentine’s Day,” he tells her, a smirk spreading over his face as he looks down at her. Her eyes go wide and then she laughs, knowing he’s right.

“At least neither of us will ever forget our anniversary now,” Hailey tells him a moment later with a smirk of her own as they reach the truck.

Jay smiles at her again, taking a step towards her and pressing her against the passenger side door. His hands find her waist and his lips are on hers a second later and she’s kissing him back instantly.

It still feels like a dream to her that she can be like this with him. Kissing him, touching him, loving him. Like it’s not still some new thing for them despite the familiarity and the fact that they’ve been doing their thing for a month already. Kissing her partner, her boyfriend, has become one of her favorite things.

Sure, they’ve slept together. And while those times spent in bed with one another have been nothing short of amazing, it’s these moments where he’s pressed against her with his hands holding onto her, and his lips moving over hers that she’s come to enjoy the most. Because it’s all she’s wanted since falling for her best friend. It’s these little moments that she’s wanted and thought about and it’s what causes her to smile against his lips as he kisses her once more before pulling away to look her in the eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Jay whispers to her.

Hailey nods, leaning back into him, and smirks up at him. “Might just be my new favorite holiday.”

And then she kisses him again just because she can.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

3 Simple Rules for Dating a Centenarian - ch. 2

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Chapters: 2/2

Read chapter one on Tumblr.

Chapter two summary: Sam and Bucky talk after their date op in Germany.

“Four,” Bucky says.

Sam, plodding down the road beside him, turns to stare. His sidekick (and fuck him if Bucky’s thinking of Sam in the same terms) has his chin lifted, moving his gaze back and forth across the horizon in a slow sweep. With the lines of trees planted as windbreaks around the fields, they can’t see the highway from here. It could be nice, without the rushing noise of cars and trucks, if Bucky knew how to shut up. That sorta pout his mouth does when his face is in its sour resting position—that’s what Sam wants to see. Only because it means Bucky wouldn’t be talking and Sam could maybe find a few minutes of peace, some quiet in which to consider the Flag-Smashers they just fought.

“Four what?” he demands when Bucky doesn’t continue.

Can’t be hostiles. If Bucky had spotted anybody, he wouldn’t still be striding along, looking unconcerned. No, he’d be running flat-out towards their adversaries like the rash moron he’s always accusing Steve of having been. Trying to leave Sam in the dust until Sam kicked off and spread his wings.

“Four stars,” Bucky says, carefully, clearly, like that clears anything up.

“What are you doing? Rating our trip down the highway? That was a transport truck full of medicine and super-soldiers, not an Uber.”

Sam’s grinning to himself when Bucky turns his head to glare. Ah. So gratifying. Amends sound good in theory, but Bucky’s irritation is so much simpler in practice. Sam knows how to handle that. He’ll take the grouchy stewing post-mission over having to meet Bucky’s eyes across a table, the promised snapper dinner laid out in front of them. They haven’t gotten around to that yet.

“I’m not rating the ride,” Bucky says, “I’m rating our date.”

That trips Sam up, but just for a second.

“No, no, no, dates don’t end with me rescuing you from the underside of a truck.”

“You didn’t rescue me.”

“Man, those wheels would’ve turned you into ground beef,” Sam says with a snort.

“I doubt it. Fell two hundred feet without a parachute today and I’m fine.”

“You want a second opinion on that?”

Instead of watching Bucky’s scowl deepen at the joke, Sam sees his expression flatten out. It makes Sam narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“What?” he prompts.

“You’re wrong,” Bucky states plainly.

“About what those wheels would do to you? We can test it when we’re back stateside if you want. I’ll requisition a truck.”

“Not about that.”

Sam’s looking closely, so he spots the smile. A curl at the corner of Bucky’s mouth. He hopes, secretly, that Bucky is scanning the surroundings well enough for both of them, because Sam’s attention is homed in on this little sign of Bucky’s amusement.

“About the end of the date,” Bucky finally clarifies.

“Mission. The end of the mission, when I rescued you.”

“The end of the date, when I was on top of you.”

Something to throw with all his strength, that’s what Sam needs right now. Some physical outlet for how badly he wants to fling the creeping, seeking, aching things he’s feeling very far away from himself. He wonders if Steve ever just whipped the shield as hard as he could to vent his frustrations. It’s hot as hell out here under the sun and Sam can feel the dampness of his chest inside his suit, the sweat riding his spine.

He takes a deep breath through his nose, fine with the scent of manure and getting nothing but grass instead. Like inhaling the colour green. Smells like the field they landed in. Landed in and went barreling across until, yeah, Sam wound up on his back with Bucky above him, their arms fastened around each other like life preservers or umbilical cords or anything else tight and necessary for keeping people alive. Goddamn nose-to-nose. Over the phone, Sam could brush Bucky off. When he says this shit in person, Sam has nowhere to go, besides extending the wings and launching himself into the sky. But he doesn’t want to overreact (doesn’t want Bucky to see him overreact).

“You just calling it a date because you don’t have rules for those?” Sam asks, deflecting.

“My three rules, you mean?” Bucky asks. He loses the smile.

“Right.”

“They’re for… everything. Supposed to be a blanket rollout, not doing anything illegal or that’ll hurt anybody in any aspect of my life. I’m sure the rules go for dating too, though Dr. Raynor and I didn’t really talk about those specific circumstances.”

“I think you might’ve mostly stuck to those rules today. I don’t think we hurt those guys.”

“Maybe you didn’t—”

“Get over yourself.”

“You’re a rude date,” Bucky notes. He’s looking straight ahead. No, not looking, staring. Like he does.

“I didn’t even invite you,” Sam says, refusing to correct this bonehead again about what kind of outing this was. “You walked onto that plane.”

“You wanted me to come.”

“Didn’t need you.”

“Oh really?” Bucky challenges. Sam clenches his jaw as he avoids meeting Bucky’s gaze.

“Hey, I was still in the air while you were clinging to that truck like a toddler to their dad’s leg.”

“You were in the air, but for how long?” Bucky asks, halting and grabbing Sam’s arm. Sam shakes him off in annoyance but stops too. “Until the Flag-Smashers knocked you out or broke your wings like they broke Redwing. They were mopping the floor with you.”

“And it was so damn useful to have you there to be the other mop,” Sam says sarcastically.

“If you’d put me back on the truck instead of in the field, we mighta had a shot at them.”

Bucky’s hands go to his hips, his Vibranium arm gleaming in the sun. He’s going to have to say more about that White Wolf thing. Wondering where the hell Bucky’s sleeve went and refusing to ask, Sam crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

“We had no shot. Not today, not without more information.”

“Information takes too long.”

“That’s what a successful op is,” Sam stresses, chopping the side of one hand into his opposite palm. “Intelligence gathering, corroboration, planning, execution. Information is what tells you to hang back instead of throwing yourself into a fight you’re not prepared enough to win.”

“We were already here. We couldn’t just let them leave.”

“Don’t worry about the hypotheticals now; them leaving is exactly what happened.”

“Unless Captain America has ’em on the ropes,” Bucky says deadpan.

“I hope they pushed him off the back of one of those trucks.”

“Were you thinking about that while we were up there with him?”

“At the time, I was thinking about pushing you off the back of the truck for getting us into that situation,” Sam explains, “that’s why I can picture it so clearly. See, Buck? I always have a plan.”

“Just like Steve.”

“No, not just like Steve.”

Sam pushes past Bucky to start walking again. After a couple steps, Bucky’s back at his side.

“You think the new guy had a plan?” he asks. “I don’t.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Sure you do.”

“Are you trying to get me to talk now? Mr. ‘I’m not a words guy’? Fine,” Sam huffs, tired from everything inside him that’s pushing to get out rather than their leisurely walk down a country road. Even so, he walks faster, almost stomping, and Bucky has to lope up next to him to stay in step. “I don’t think he had a plan. I don’t think he could fasten that dumb helmet on his head without a direct order. I don’t think he and his partner found us on their own initiative.”

“They work pretty smoothly as a team though,” Bucky tosses out.

“That looked like familiarity, not the result of inspiring leadership on the part of the Captain.”

“And not as good as us.”

Sam sends Bucky poisonous side-eye.

“I’m not trying to lead you.”

“I don’t wanna be led,” Bucky replies. “We fight together better than they do and that’s with you pretending you hate me.”

“Oh, I don’t need to pretend.” The comment is habit.

“All I’m saying is that it’s better. The two of us being out here doing this stuff together.”

“Especially with that dick waiting in the wings.”

Bucky stares at him long enough that Sam turns his head to stare back. When he does, Bucky glances away, but Sam knows where he was looking—at his back, where his wings are folded away.

“Waiting in the wings is a figure of speech,” he tells Bucky angrily.

“It’s perfect though. I always think of you as that dick in the wings.”

Sam exhales hard through his nose.

“I hope you don’t always think of me as anything.”

“I do. I always think of you.”

Freefall doesn’t jar Sam, no more than what he can remember it feeling like when he was a little kid and his dad would toss him into the air before catching him again. But what Bucky says changes the physics of his insides, the gravity all wrong with his organs. Heart plummeting then trying to sail straight up his throat like a balloon somebody just let go of.

Then Bucky adds, “You and that shield.”

“Drop it.”

He could just fly to the airport, leave Bucky here with plenty of time to think his stupid, shield-related thoughts. Maybe this smartass would have all the answers by the time he reached the plane, or Munich, if they went wheels-up without him. The truth is that the shield—and the Captain America persona—are on Sam’s mind just as much as they’re on Bucky’s, only he manages to keep those thoughts locked up tight. He has to make sure that shit’s contained, particularly if the new poster boy’s going to turn up like this. Sam doesn’t need that in his face.

As they walk, he glances at Bucky, who’s probably as aware of it as Sam is when Bucky gives him that stare. Blue as the sky overhead and heavy as a boulder. The realization that, although he didn’t mean to lead, Bucky followed him here, and continues to stick with him, is staggering. The pages of his mental photo album flip and he sees Steve crack a grin. It’s not like that, Sam tells that blond do-gooder, young in his memories. The only blond do-gooder who ever has or ever will look right with his arm threaded through the straps of the shield.

Maybe, maybe, this thing could work. Him and Bucky running ops, doing better at not getting their asses kicked in front of the government’s hand-picked hero. But Bucky’s gotta let that shit go. Since the Blip, Sam’s been trying to fly under the radar and that’s what he wants to continue doing. He doesn’t need to be showy, just effective; he doesn’t want to get dragged into some Cap vs. Cap contest, the inheritor against the upstart. If Bucky would take the time to think and listen, they could figure this out and be good. And do good. Understanding each other the way Sam wanted when he called Bucky up and they talked about Tunisia and rules and fish dinners. Bucky could make his jokes and, the next time, Sam could call his bluff. Show that gruff, rusty motherfucker what a real date looks like. What kind of team could they be? All kinds.

“Are we even going the right way?” Bucky asks after a half-hour of silence.

“Yes,” Sam says firmly.

He actually hasn’t checked. After they untangled themselves in that field, he just started walking, too keyed up to establish their position. He wonders if the grass still shows their path, crushed where they rolled to a stop.

“You sure?”

“Uh huh.”

“Got any thoughts you wanna share?” Bucky asks. Sam frowns and steals a glance at him. “What? I told you I’ve been going to therapy. I know the importance of a healthy dialogue.”

Sam tries to force his mouth to keep curving down, but he really wants to smile. Bucky’s not the worst company and he is obviously capable of growth.

“A question,” he says.

“If it’s sarcastic, I’m not—”

“Four outta what?”

“What?”

“You said four stars,” Sam reminds him. “Is that four outta five or four outta ten?”

Bucky’s smile spreads slowly, smugly, and Sam rolls his eyes hard. He’s no more aggravated by Bucky than he is by his own need to know. ‘Four stars’ was an incomplete assessment! Typical.

“I hate you,” he says.

Still smiling away, Bucky sways into Sam as he walks, their arms brushing. Could be an accident.

But probably not.

[damn-stark]

Time changes

Poe Dameron x stormtrooper!reader

Requested by anon “Can I request a Poe x stormtrooper! Reader? Like, Finn convinces reader to leave the First Order shortly after he did, and Poe is smitten with her when Finn introduces them to each other? -&”

A/N- again if you guys have other Poe requests, send em!!

Warning- small angst, fluff and characters pining against one another.

——

Time is meant to be endless. But as a stormtrooper there is no promise to live another day, hour or minute.

You’re just meant to live without time (unless when it benefits them), you’re just supposed to fight mindlessly, just live like puppets. Only used and aware when they use you.

Nobody wants to live that life. You don’t want to live that life, but you’re...meant to.

Just meant to work and work, fight and—

In a matter of seconds, at the sight of someone familiar you’d thought you would never see again, you lose your train of thought and stop before him completely baffled.

“FN-2189?”

You blink and part your lips to say his number, but at the sight of two strangers next to him you blink again. Only being able to mutter in disbelief after hearing the familiar sound of a droids chirping coming from under a...trash bin? “FN-2187?!”

A smile slowly attempts to tug on your lips, but part of you is still in disbelief that you were seeing your friend.

“It’s uh Finn now actually.” He announces making you express a lighthearted scoff.

“What are you doing back? You’re supposed to be long gone, not back two days later.” You remark in a louder worried tone. “If they see you they’ll kill you.”

“They won’t see me, we—”

“We d-dont have time for this.” The older man that was with FN—with Finn interrupts.

Finn looks over his shoulder to the man and sighs. “Yeah you’re right.” Finn looks back at you and takes a step towards you. “Come with me.”

“Finn.” The girl behind him calls.

“T-talking and w-w-walking.” The man suggests.

Finn nods and grabs your shoulder to turn you around and take you with him as he continues with whatever it was he and his...friends were here for.

“What are you doing here, Finn?” You probe further, “who are they?”

“The girl is my friend Rose and the guy...well he’s Dj. A man who’s going to help us break into the room where the tracker is to stop them from tracking the resistance.”

“Oh,” you mouth, glancing down at the hidden droid. “The droid is yours?”

“A friends. The resistance fighter who I broke out.”

You hum and continue walking with him even if you are still worried about his intentions. “You better not get caught. You got out, I know you wouldn’t want to be back here.”

“I will.” Finn assures you, “but you’re coming with me. I wanted to bring you with me before, but I couldn’t, but now I can. Come with me. You can fight for the right side, have your own name and be free.”

“I—” you pause and sigh. There's nothing you would want more, but to leave, be something more than a puppet for the first order. But you have to wonder, what if they capture you and imprison you again? Get forced to be the same as you are now. Just another nameless soldier.

“What if they take me again?” You finally manage to say, blinking up to look at him.

“I won’t let that happen.” Finn assures you, “nobody will. I promise.” He offers you a small warm smile that you can’t help but mirror and feel assured. “So what do you say? Do you want to get out of here?”

Your smile pulls into a smirk and you nod. “I do.”

Finally. This was going to be your time to finally be free.

——

Okay perhaps leaving and moments after escaping the First Order didn’t go as smoothly as you’d initially thought (too much wishful thinking on your part) but you got out. You were free. No more strings.

Yet you had to wonder.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” You ask Finn once you both finally manage to find a peaceful time after the chaos.

“I’m sure,” he assures you with a kind smile, “they took me in didn’t they?”

You suck air through your teeth and feign a cringed look. “Did they though?”

Finn shoots you a pointed glare and fakes his laugh. Just as he’s about to retort a voice interrupts his thoughts. “Hey.”

Both Finn and you turn to notice a man you had seen many times before. Finn’s friend you assume, but can’t be certain of since there was no downtime for introductions when you first arrived. There wasn’t even time to take everyone in, everything was a rush after you left.

But now that you did have the time, you took a good look at the resistance fighter, noticing he was in fact very handsome and even if from the outside he looked intimidating, his eyes told a different story. They were dark and warm. There was something instantaneously captivating about him.

You can’t help but smile as you greet him. “Hello.”

His eyes drift to you and he blinks repeatedly, letting his lips tug into a half smile and uttering the same words he had said before. Only this time his voice sounded softer. “Hi.”

An amused grin grows on your lips and you surpass the need to laugh at his reaction. Something Finn notices too.

“Poe this is one of my oldest and best friends from the order,” Finn pauses for a brief moment to look at you, smiling to himself as an idea comes to his mind. “Y/N.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you tilt your head to meet his gaze. “Really?”

Finn shrugs, “take it or leave it, I’m not choosing anything else.”

You groan, “fine, I’ll take it.”

Finn rolls his eyes and turns back to his friend. “Anyways as I was saying, y/n meet Poe. The resistance fighter that helped me escape. Without him I don’t know where I’d be.”

Poe scoffs and shakes his head. “You got to give yourself some credit. If it wasn’t for your bravery in helping me break out I wouldn’t be alive.”

Finn scoffs too and just shrugs nonchalantly, noticing Poe’s gaze fall on you again and deciding to make an excuse to apparently do something else for a quick moment. Leaving Poe and you alone.

“So,” Poe breaks the silence, “what did you do when you were part of the first order? Were you a pilot? Or a foot soldier just like Finn?”

You shake your head and find yourself unable to break your gaze away from his. “No, I was a mechanic.”

“Ah, you’re in luck then, I need some help, this ship is falling apart by the second. Could you help me?”

You offer a short nod and begin to follow him to where he needs you, ending up below the floor of the ship and instantly seeing a solution for his problem.

“Lucky I got you here, another second and maybe the ship would’ve stopped in the vacuum space.” Poe tells you smugly.

You scoff and shake your head as you hook a last wire in another input. “Don’t say that or I’ll believe your lies.”

Poe chuckles. “Hey, I only compliment people when I see true amazing skill.”

You climb back up to the floor and show him a smirk, “you’re feeding my ego, it’s a dangerous thing.”

Poe shrugs with a faint smirk on his lips, choosing to change the subject shortly thereafter. “You know how to fly?”

You shake your head and sit across from him, letting your legs dangle over the open gap. “I could pull apart any ship and rebuild it without a need for a blueprint, and maybe even with my eyes closed, but I cannot for the life of me fly a ship. I’ve never had the chance.”

Poe quirks a brow at your surprising answer. “Really? I thought you would? I thought you would know how to do everything considering you’re a stormtrooper.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “That’s the stereotype, but no. I can sorta shoot a blaster, might as well have been born with the damn thing,” you explain, “and shooting is the first thing they teach you, but after that you aren’t taught much else. You get dropped into a station and you’re stuck there.” You shrug, “I’d love to learn though, I’ve always liked the concept of flying in space, feeling the adrenaline that comes with flying.”

Poe grins at looks at you with a soft gaze. Having to blink and express a sigh before he replied to you. “Flying is great and fun if you know how it enjoy it and do it properly.”

You smirk and slightly tilt your head. “Well if you know a great pilot that could teach me, please let me know. I’d love to learn.”

Poe smirks and leans his body closer to you. “I might know one or two.”

As if it had been out of instinct you lean in too, having your gaze briefly fall to his lips before you force yourself to look back at his dark eyes and respond. “Is that so?”

He nods and hums, “Mhmm, for starters,” he remarks smugly, letting his eyes fall to your lips for a brief moment. “I can teach you. I’m a great pilot. It wouldn’t cost you anything either.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and bat your eyelashes. “Really? That’s hard to believe. I mean being a great pilot and all, aren’t you busy?”

Poe shrugs and his smug smile spreads wider, “well I’m making an exception. For a pretty face and a new friend.”

You quirk a brow and again look down at his lips as you lean in again. Smirking as you see Poe cockily lick his lips when he leans in too. Leaving only a couple inches left between the both of you.

“well in that case sign me up. Just let me know when.”

“I could now.” He offers.

You stroke your chin and hum as you pretend to be in deep thought. Answering only after you pull away and stand to your feet. “I can’t right now, I’m busy. The ship needs some fixing. But how about in a more private setting? I tend to learn quicker when it’s just a one on one lesson. Crowds,” you roll out slowly, “distract me.”

Poe scoffs at your actions and chooses to stand up as well, taking a step towards you and choosing to quickly add more in the same soft and low voice. “You name the time and day and it’s a date.”

“Well that depends on you,” you shrug, “when are you free?”

“I’m free tomorrow night, how does that sound?”

You walk forward and stop to look over your shoulder to shoot him a sweet smile. “Sounds like a date.”

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 2: Kill All Your Friends

missed chapter 1? read here!

summary: things get thrown for a bit a loop at the dam when two strangers appear, revealing to be Joel, Tommy's younger brother and a young girl. their presence makes things a little tense but soon gets heated as danger follows them to thr power plant.

word count: 3,352

read on ao3 here

warnings: slight cursing, guns and well, canon-typical murder, hunter attack

notes: does anybody else look at joel and just wanna,,,, punch him in the face with kisses? just because he deserves it? no? only me? 

Humid. It was always fucking humid. The lot of you have been out at the dam for nearly a week with little to be shown as progress. Things in Jackson were doing fine, wonderful even, and then the power went out. Turns out one of the turbines busted, it’s taken you and the whole group working day and night to repair it.

You leaned against the wall, taking in the greenery that was slowly encompassing the whole hydroelectric dam. It was rather beautiful. You glanced over to David, one of the few engineers from the old world, was hunched over the table mumbling softly to himself looking over a rather poorly drawn map of the turbines, trying to figure out what was going wrong. Then glanced to the far side of the courtyard where Tommy and Maria were, both engrossed in some tense conversation. 

Whatever they were whisper-arguing about wasn’t going to be any of your business… until Maria finds you later on to vent at least. A little push off the wall and you grabbed your rifle before swinging it onto your back, groaning that your little break was probably over by now. Today you had guard duty. How fun.

You approached the duo, hoping to simmer down whatever was going on between them, likely both were stressed beyond hell for the turbine to come back on. Maria saw you first and put her hand on her face, rubbing away some tension. She said your name and pulled you into a half hug and you didn’t miss the small thanks she whispered in your ear for interrupting.

“Goin’ back on duty, want me to keep near the front gate?”

Maria nodded, “Sounds good. I’ll follow you in a minute.”

Tommy looked at you and gave you a friendly smile. Although you were casual friends with the man long before you met Maria, he knows where your loyalties lie but also knows you have his back on the field. When you first arrived at Jackson, bloodied and bruised, Maria didn’t trust you as far as she could have tossed you, but as things go, you both wormed into the others hearts through sheer sarcasm and your ‘take no shit’ attitude.

That’s when Tommy knew he was fucked being the only person between the two of you.  

You left and went to go to your post, fanning out the jean jacket you were wearing to help relieve the humidity on your skin. The entrance to the hydroelectric dam was hellbent on attracting unwanted attention. For the near week you’ve been out here you had two bandit attacks, not to mention the ones back at Jackson, causing you to feel even stickier.

You found a spot up top the entrance to keep an eye out through the scope of your rifle, not noticing anything for another couple of hours, Maria not even coming by to her post. Just as you were going to call your shift, you noticed some slight movement across the concrete jungle of the remains of the power plant.

And some more movement.

Then more.

You grabbed your radio and phoned in, “Activity to the east. Two spotted.” The radio clicked and produced static until another click sounded.

Maria called back, “Eyes.”

“Noted. Out.”

With that, you knew exactly what to do. Everybody did. When it came down to it, nobody really did want a gunfight. When the code ‘eyes’ is spoken, it means shut up and watch. If the people pass, they go on their merry way. If they don’t, well, they typically don’t leave alive if they so much as hint at being a threat.

It’s unfortunate this is the way life is now but who are you to fight the changing tides.

You peek through your scope again, watching a dark haired man and a smaller woman work their way through the maze, figuring out how to cross the water. You took your eyes off the scope and began to watch them without the tool until they both began pushing at the gate. You grumble, “Contact made.”

Maria pops in behind you on your left and together you two and two more of the on duty guards on the other end of the gate point your rifles at the duo, revealing yourselves. The man doesn’t take notice until the girl points a gun at your companions then you and he backs off the entrance.

“Don’t even think about drawing your weapon! Tell the girl to drop hers. Now,” Maria shouts besides you.

The man backs up a couple steps, sticking his hand out to the girl, “Ellie, so as the lady says.”

She looks at him and puts her arms up in surrender, “Okay.”

Maria, still holding her rifle at the two strangers, says to the man, “Please tell me you're lost.”

“We didn’t know the place was occupied, we’re just trying to make our way through,” he points through the gate.

“Through to where?”

Then a deep voice picks up, “They're alright.”

You and Maria look away from the two down to the voice, seeing Tommy approaching the gate. “What, you know these people,” Maria asks him.

“I know him,” Tommy grumbles as he opens the gate, “He’s my goddamn brother.”

Oh.

You’d heard stories of the man before, of Joel Miller. From what Tommy has said before you recalled that the man was a bit of a brute, shut off from everybody after losing his daughter. He was a hunter and did some goddamned awful things in this world but quite frankly, who hasn’t? You know you have in the past to ensure your survival. It was something Tommy hated that his brother participated in but you couldn’t blame him, not after the shit you’ve seen and done.

Joel looked at his brother and his shoulders slumped, “Tommy.”

“Holy shit,” he said and moved past the safety of the gates and went straight to Joel, wrapping his arms around him.

“How you doin’, baby brother?”

Maria shot you a look that clearly stated she didn’t trust the man, despite being her brother-in-law, she heard the same stories you did. The man was a hunter, a murderer, even a smuggler. The very kind of people that don’t bode well with Jackson. With a sigh, you both put down your rifles and headed down to the gate to meet Joel and the girl, Ellie. She walked right up to the two men and you could faintly hear Tommy say, “You got fuckin’ old.”

“Easy - it’s gonna happen to you too,” Joel quipped.

Tommy took a step back, you watched how he shuffled on his feet and introduced Maria. “Be nice to her, she sorta runs things around here.”

“Ma’am.” Joel nods his head towards her. “Thanks for not blowing my head off.”

You roll your eyes at this from where you’re watching this all unfold, internally gagging at Joel’s whole ‘southern charm’ bit. Although he should be more grateful to you for not shooting him. Maria looks at Tommy beside her, “Would’ve been embarrassing, considering you’re my brother-in-law.”

An amused smile immediately hits your lips as you watch Joel try to absorb that information. He looks between the couple a few times before Tommy says, “We all gotta get wrangled up at some point.”

Maria turns to you and you lose the smile as she extends a hand for you to approach. “And this here is my second in command,” introducing you to Joel by giving him your first name and he nods his head, both of you deciding to not say a word to each other, silently sizing the other up. His eyes don’t leave yours but for a brief moment you swear his eyes flash down your body and back up as he lets out a low huff.

Oh, it’s on old man, you think.

Maria chuckles, noticing whatever the hell is happening between you two, and she turns towards the girl. “Ellie, right? What brings you through here?”

Ellie looks towards Joel for guidance, “Uh… it’s kind of a long story.”

Tommy immediately notices all the other eyes and ears watching this interaction unfold and puts his hand on Maria’s back, picking up the clear signal for some privacy. “Why don’t we bring ‘em inside?”

“Yeah, you hungry,” she asks Ellie.

“Starving,” the girl groans. You smile a bit, feeling pretty amused at this whole thing. From the stories you’ve been told about Joel it seemed very unlikely he’d be traveling with a companion, much less a child.

Tommy steps aside as you walk back through the gate first, Maria and Ellie behind you. “False alarm. They're friendlies,” you shout, walking further in the power plant leading the group. You take a quick glance around at the other scouts on shift, watching them watch the newcomers. Everybody was on edge, everybody was wary. The fact Tommy and Maria were letting some strangers in, in the midst of repairing an essential component to Jackson functioning properly, was not going past anybody.

You can hear Maria as she explains the stares and the heavily armed posts to Joel somewhere behind you, “We’ve been dealing with raids. Lots of bandits in this area.”

“It’s been quiet for a few days,” Tommy adds on, explaining why they answered at the gate so aggressively, as if it was any consolation of almost killing his brother and the girl.

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought I’d find you in Jackson.”

“Been trying to bring the plant back to life,” Tommy explains.

This time you chime in, “We had it working before, but one of the turbines went south about a week ago. Been tryin’ to fix it up.”

Tommy adjusts his rifle on his shoulder. “We have electricity Joel… had. We’ll get it running again.”

Ellie runs past you, approaching a few of the horses. “No way! You guys have horses.”

“We got a whole lot of ‘em,” Tommy tells her. You watch as she puts her hand on the brown and white one, petting it softly.

Beside the horse is Cherry, one of the few horse wranglers in Jackson, she was kind and sweet, pretty young too all things considered. She was tall and bulky from years of shoving heavy loads of hay, sometimes you’d wonder what it’d be like to get tossed around by her. She’s kind of notorious for winning hand-to-hand combat scenarios in the training hall. Not that you ever went.

Cherry tells Ellie about the horse and they get to talking about the animal. You also hear Charlie over your shoulder asking Tommy for help with one of the iron shoes on another horse. You take a few steps back then marching towards the warehouse, settling against the wall next to Earl and he gives you a brief nod acknowledging you. He’s sweet, you think, you’ve never spoken to him much but you recall he’s one of the maintenance men around Jackson. Thankfully he’s the silent type and you don’t have to try and make polite small talk with him.

As you both lean against the wall quietly, you begin watching both Ellie and Joel and how they’re assessing the environment. Ellie seems very excited petting the horse and talking to Cherry but Joel looks on edge, mirroring everyone else. He catches you staring and looks away slowly, now watching Ellie talk to Cherry about going riding later on.

Maria and Tommy make their way towards you and you push off, walking up the stairs and opening the door, you faintly hear Maria talk to Earl about heading back to Jackson. The door creaks open and you let Tommy, Joel, Ellie, then Maria into the warehouse until both your and Maria’s radios crackle. “Maria, we’re in the control room. Steve’s about to start it back up. Do you wanna come check it out?”

Maria sighs and mumbles back to you, “I’d rather eat with Ellie.”

You stifle a bit of a laugh at her candor in front of the others and Tommy interjects, “It’s my turn anyway. I’ll go.”

Joel then volunteers to go with his brother, telling Ellie to go with you and Maria but not before flashing you a look that says something akin to ‘try something and I’ll hunt you’.

Before Ellie could protest, Maria pulls her along. “C’mon, Ellie. Let’s give the boys some space.”

The three of you are relatively quiet leading back to the office room where the food was. Ellie kept looking over her shoulder, likely for Joel. You started wondering how he came across her, doubting any possibility she was his daughter. Tommy would have known if that were the case.

You gave a look over at Ellie, now seeing her a little closer. She looks slightly gaunt, likely hasn’t eaten in a few days you suspect which worries you a bit. No kid should have to go without.

“When was the last time you ate,” you ask her.

She ponders for a moment, “Before we got here I was pretty sure that the next squirrel I saw I was gonna eat.”

You and Maria raised your eyebrows at her admission before gently laughing as you reached the room. Maria pulls out some jars of fruit and a container of jerky from underneath and hands it to her, “Here, eat some of this. We have better options back in Jackson but while we don’t have a full service kitchen out here, this is the best we got.”

“That’s okay! I’ll eat almost anything at this point,” she openly admits. You take notice in how expressive she is, likely warming up to you and Maria now.

The three of you get to talking, making idle chatter over a few opened mason jars and a hefty supply of jerky. The more you talk with Ellie, the more you grow to like her. She’s got a mouth of a sailor and sarcasm that’d turn any old man running. 

Wonder if she’s annoyed the hell out of Joel, you muse. Now you sit, chewing on fruit and imagining how easy it’d be to get under his skin. You’re torn out of your thoughts when the lights suddenly turn on, “Thank the damned stars! I’m ready to get out of here. Everybody is driving me up the wall.”

Maria throws a loose grape at you, “Thanks a lot, asshole.”

“Anytime,” you wink.

“How long have you two known each other,” Ellie asks you both. 

You pop a piece of fruit in your mouth, “Just two years. She was already married to Tommy when I arrived.”

“Can’t believe you’re married to his brother,” Ellie groans. “Joel is such a grump, can’t imagine how the other one is.”

Maria nods and smiles, still eating some of the peaches. “Oh, trust me. Some days I want to strangle him. Didn’t expect to ever meet Joel, if I’m bein’ honest.”

“I couldn’t recognize him, not even by that photo,” you say mindlessly, reaching for your canteen and drinking water.

Ellie picks her head up a little more, “Photo? What photo?”

Maria gets up from her seat and walks to one of the duffle bags in the other room, she searches around before she pulls out a photo and when she returns, hands it to Ellie. She gestures to you, “Her and Tommy went down to Texas about a year ago, he wanted to see what was left of his and Joel’s old life and scavenge what they could.”

“We didn’t find much,” you continue, “Tommy didn’t think he’d ever see his brother again, it was like his way of saying goodbye so he took this photo of him and a couple others.”

“Who’s the girl,” Ellie asks looking at the picture.

“Sarah.” You shift in your seat, not feeling entirely comfortable with this conversation anymore. 

Maria finishes your sentence, “She was his daughter. She didn’t survive very long after the outbreak.”

Before you could try to steer the conversation in another direction, a loud siren echoed through the hall as shouts filled the warehouse.

“Bandits,” someone shouted as gunshots rang out.

You stand up and push Ellie behind you, looking for your rifle. It was too far away, tucked under one of the abandoned desks. “Fuck,” you shout as you see a handful of hunters enter the room.

Drawing the two handguns strapped to your thighs, you begin to take shots at them, not exactly hitting them where it was vital but enough to make them stumble and drop. Maria grabs you by the shoulder, “Let’s go!”

You retreat backwards into the closed off manager-type office and from the corner of your eye you see a man rise from the other side of a broken window and take aim at Ellie behind you. You whipped around and shoved against her with an ‘oof’ just as you hear something whizz past you and hit the wall above the two of you.

Hovering above Ellie, you keep her head down with your right hand, abandoning the gun beside her as you and Maria take alternating shots at the invaders. “Move, Ellie,” you tell her, lifting yourself up to give her room to maneuver into the office while shielding her.

Maria shuffles into the room after you and the girl, “There’s more coming in. We can’t take all of them.”

“Shit, okay,” you look around frantically. You were running low on bullets now, the rest of your spare ammunition was left in your backpack. In an entirely different area. Your eyes searched around the small room and you got Maria’s attention, together you pulled a nearby table into the office, barricading yourselves. 

“Under the table, now,” she yells at Ellie then looks at you.“Guess we’ll have to wait for the men to save us,” she says a little bitterly.

Together, the three of you hid. Waiting for the echo of bullets to cease after what feels like a lifetime.

Faintly, you could hear the familiar voice of Tommy yelling and a gruff one responding, likely his brother. You released the breath you had been holding onto as the last gunshot rang out. Between you and Maria, Ellie had her hands over her ears and she slowly lowered them until jumping up and shouting “They’re all dead!”

Maria rose to her feet as Tommy and her called out for each other, “The kid’s with us!” She jumps out the shattered window and runs to her husband as they check over each other.

You help Ellie out the office room the same way and Joel looks over her the same way as she recalls the attack.  “Joel, oh, man…,” Ellie begins talking so fast that she’s out of breath. “They were coming in from every direction and they were both like ‘we gotta run’ and so we dove over these tables and this huge guy blasts in with a shotgun-”

“Slow down, slow down. Listen-,” Joel cuts her off. He puts his hands on her shoulders and looks her in the eye, “Hey, hey, are you hurt?”

“No!” She looks at you, “She protected me!”

Joel follows her gaze and you look him in the eye, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

You’re not really competitive, you don’t really like attention either, but there was something about Joel fuckin’ Miller that really got to you. Maybe it was the way he seemed to be mindful of everything, maybe it was the way his eyes roamed over your body, maybe it was the fact he was unfortunately making you squirm where you stood as his hardened glare seemed to see right through you, asking you to try him.

Whatever it was, his hardened stare made you quiver ever so slightly. You took a few very mindful steps away from the man, walking towards Maria and Tommy when you caught the tail end of whatever he was saying to your best friend, “- to talk.”

It seemed like that was not what Maria wanted to hear as her already pale face grew paler and her signature scowl etched back across her face.

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Yanois - Second Impressions Can Bring Misfortune

Read Part One here, or check it out on AO3!

Though their first meeting could have gone better, Illinois might be a little fond of the mystery prisoner. Let’s just hope his famous luck doesn’t run out…

Warning: There is an instance of deadnaming under the read-more. It’s accidental, but be mindful if that might cause a little upset. (I promise this doesn’t end on a bad note)

Word Count: 2,448 (sorry, it’s four hand-written pages)

-

After his encounter with the brash prisoner, Illinois found he couldn’t get the other man out of his head. It was hardly an attraction (no, shut up! It wasn’t!), but he accepted that there was a level of interest in the unknown. Perhaps it was the prisoner’s standoffish attitude, or how he seemed utterly disinterested yet keenly focused. He didn’t heckle during the lecture, so he wasn’t there for the sole purpose of causing trouble.

But the question that plagued Illinois was painfully simple: what was the prisoner’s name? He hated how badly he wanted to know. Ah, the curse of the archaeologist - insatiable curiosity! With no starting point, Illinois took inspiration from his work and fetched his laptop to start the research.

Most prisoners were from Texas, but not all. The stranger’s accent suggested he was potentially from New York, so Illinois decided to sieve through articles that made reference to a transferral to a Texan prison first. His abundance of good luck meant that it only took an hour to find a result that was most fitting. The article was several years old and discussed the outcome of a rather tragic case. The information was put to the back of his mind - Warden Murderslaughter always said to never talk about an inmate’s crime unless they bring it up first - as Illinois instead took the important information. The photograph used of the criminal was old, but it matched. Which meant… He had a name! All he had to do was wait until the next time he was set to visit Happy Trails Penitentiary.

-

As luck would have it, he merely had to wait a week. When he wasn’t travelling as part of archaeological trips, Illinois would volunteer two Saturdays a month to teach the inmates. Unlike his history lectures, these consisted of smaller groups of prisoners undertaking a short course on several points in history; which would be rounded off with each prisoner completing a short research project on something that interested them in the course. All he needed was to put his possessions in the room he used for classes, and then he would be free to find the right prisoner if he arrived earlier than usual. The inmates followed a set schedule with minor variations depending on when their work shifts were. He had been volunteering long enough to know when one of the crossover periods would take place. It would be easy to find him!

The rec yard was fruitless, as was the library. But it was upon leaving the chow hall that Illinois spotted the man of the hour. He seemed in a hurry as the prisoner dashed toward the hall.

“Ah! Can I have a moment?” Illinois called out. The tattooed man screeched to a halt, bemused once he realised who wanted his attention. Unfortunately, no one else was around, so it had to be him. 

“Sure. Fine. What?” His eyes didn’t stay on Illinois, but instead darted to the clock.

“I know this is likely a bad time, but I’d like a chance to talk. We got off on the wrong foot last time.” Even Illinois knew it didn’t go well. “Are you free after your shift?”

“U-uh…. Yeah?” Thrown by the turn of events, it appeared the bold prisoner was willing to cooperate. “I know I’d never hear the end of it if my friends heard I refused. They’s is always singing youse’s praises. ‘Sides, second chances is always a good thing, right?” He looked as though he was about to say something else, but decided against it. Regardless, Illinois was elated.

“Excellent! In that case, I’ll be in the classroom just opposite the library until seven this evening. Call by when you’re free. Even if there’s a class going on, sit in on it anyway.” The prisoner nodded and hurried past once he knew he was dismissed. Before the other disappeared into the chow hall, Illinois belatedly realised he should be more polite about this. He guessed the other might be swallowing his pride in accepting the invitation to chat, given their first meeting. The least he could do was show some manners.

“Thank you! I look forward to chatting, █████!”

Whatever progress had been made was instantly thrown aside. The prisoner froze in the doorway. Though his back was to Illinois, the archaeologist could see that the other was rigid. It wasn’t a reaction Illinois associated with hearing one’s own name…. Unless it was a name they didn’t use anymore.

“O-oh my God, I’m so sorry, I had no -” For once, Illinois found himself stammering in a frantic attempt to get an apology out. It was to no avail, as a fistful of his shirt had been grabbed and he was slammed against the wall.

“I don’t know what sorta shit game youse is playing,” the prisoner hissed, “But if youse is gonna act like youse is better than me by being such a sly bitch…. I really wanna beat the shit outta youse, but I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“Yancy! That’s enough!” The prisoner - Yancy? - dropped Illinois without hesitation and didn’t struggle when two guards rushed over and restrained him. “Bring him into th’ chow hall to calm down. I’ll speak to him in a sec. As fer you…” Yancy was led away by the guards, and it was hard to ignore how withdrawn he seemed compared to minutes earlier. With heavy guilt, Illinois pulled his attention away to finally acknowledge Warden Murderslaughter, who had been the one to stop the disaster in its tracks. His lips were pursed and his arms crossed as he shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Illinois. Out of all our volunteers, I thought you would’ve known our most important rule better than anyone else: don’t provoke th’ inmates with topics that are touchy fer ‘em.”

“But I didn’t know -” Illinois’ head turned toward the chow hall’s entrance. “I only wanted to get to know him. I didn’t mean to…”

“Who told you that name?”

“No one?” He looked back at the Warden with confusion. “I read it in an article covering the trial online.” The Warden pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

“Son… You could’ve saved yourself a whole lotta bother if you’d thought to ask someone here, even over the phone. It isn’t like you to mess up like this.” He put an arm around Illinois’ shoulder and began guiding him toward the staff breakroom. “The name you used is correct, if you go by legal documents or the press, but it’s not the name he goes by. Everyone calls him ‘Yancy’. See, his birth name has links to pretty painful memories that I don’t think he’ll ever recover from, and he’s been striving to prove he’s a better person as ‘Yancy’. So to turn ‘round and use th’ wrong name is like a slap to the face and a surefire way for him to hate you. Now, I know you had good intentions and it was an honest mistake, but you need to be more careful. Next time you see him, give him a good, proper apology. Just know he’s probably gonna be frosty toward ya. I’ll go talk to him and check if he’s okay, let him know you didn't mean to use the wrong name.” The Warden threw a glance over his shoulder with a hint of a smile. “Yancy’s a good kid, despite how he acts sometimes. He’s been through some rough times, but his heart’s stayed in the right place. If he can have a friend outside the prison… I think it’ll do him some good. Now, get yourrself a coffee before you start classes.”

Illinois blinked, genuinely surprised to realise they had arrived. Murderslaughter gave him a hearty slap on the back of the shoulder (Illinois had learned long ago the art of hiding the wince from the strength of such actions) before making his way back to the chow hall.

---

In the chow hall, Yancy was a mess. He sat far away from anyone else who might have been there. A cup of water had been given to him, but it was used more as a stress ball rather than a drink. He didn’t know what to think. How could someone act like they wanted to be a friend, then turn around in the same breath and say something that implied the complete opposite? Why remind him of what he did long ago? The cup was put aside so he could slump across the table with a defeated groan. █████… Was that all he was ever going to be to the outside world? Would the attempts he has made to be a better person forever go unnoticed under the large, looming shadow of his crimes? Then again, prisoners like him were locked away to be forgotten about by the world.

His form tensed the moment he spotted the Warden sitting opposite him. This was it - he was going to be scolded and sent to Solitary, and probably lose other privileges on top of that. How dare Yancy lay a finger on the visitor everyone worshipped!!

But it was nothing like that. Murderslaughter checked if he was okay. They sat in silence for a few moments so Yancy could try and collect himself without anyone else approaching. Then, the Warden praised him for not completely lashing out, but then took time to explain Illinois’ side of things.

“- He’s not like the reporters or anyone else who comes to ‘visit’ you. He was a moron who didn’t ask th’ staff for your name. It seems like he wants to try an’ be friends…. But it’s fine if ya don’t wanna see him today. An’ if you’d rather go lie down instead of working, that’s fine too.

“N-no… I’d rather work. Don’t really wanna be left alone with my thoughts just yet.”

-

Yancy spent the rest of the morning washing dishes. The work wasn’t ‘busy’ enough to keep his mind distracted, but it was labour-intensive and he could work out his frustration on the crockery. By the time he finished his shift and lunch, he returned to his cell with an idea - he needed to get rid of the White Jaguar model. It had to be the source of the blame.

But just like a blasted boomerang, the clay figure kept returning to him in ridiculous manners throughout the afternoon. Yancy dropped it in the trash on the way outside, only to be tapped on the shoulder by another prisoner who thought it was dropped by mistake. Trying to gift it to anyone in the Gang had them refuse - Bam-Bam had initially accepted, but changed his mind when he held the tiny model and handed it back to Yancy with the excuse that it ‘belonged’ to him. He then hid it in the long grass in the rec yard. When no one immediately found it, he went to the bathroom, returned to his cell… And was greeted with the terrifying sight of the White Jaguar sitting on his pillow, staring at him. Overcome with frustration, he decided to simply break it. He threw it at the wall with all his might. Instead of smashing, it ricocheted off the wall and toppled his radio that had been on his bed, before landing neatly on the pillow. Yancy picked it up, he swore there was a look of smugness on the Jaguar’s face, which reminded him of… Wait.

He could simply return it to Illinois and ask him never to speak to Yancy again. It would solve two problems at once.

---

“Come in!” Illinois’ voice was upbeat as he tidied the classroom after a day of workshops. The guilt from earlier had been put aside in favour of professionalism. He did have a reputation to uphold, after all. However, that professionalism immediately slipped the moment he saw who entered.

“Yancy!” The name was blurted out with relief more than pleasantry. Whatever Illinois had been putting into his briefcase was unceremoniously dumped as he gave Yancy his full attention. “Before you say anything…. I want to apologise for this morning. I made the mistake of not checking with the staff what name you prefer to go by. It was careless of me. I know I upset you, and I am truly sorry. You don’t need to forgive me, as I know it’s something that hurt you… But I just want you to know I didn’t mean to use that name, and I’ll never use it again, Yancy.”

Yancy was dumbfounded. No one who deliberately used that name apologised. They never cared that it made him uncomfortable and upset. Emotions stung him for the second time that day, but polar opposites to the anger that had nearly consumed him in the morning.

“I-I, uh… Thanks. For apologising, I mean. Takes balls to admit youse was wrong ‘bout something. But it means a lot that, y’know, youse said sorry. So… If it’s okay with youse, we can consider it forgiven and forgotten.” Yancy looked ill at ease, but Illinois couldn’t blame him. It would be better to find a new topic to talk about before Yancy decided to swiftly dismiss himself. At that moment, Yancy adjusted his stance, drawing Illinois’ attention to his hand.

“Is that the White Jaguar model I gave you?”

Yancy blinked and looked at his hand like he didn’t know it had existed until that very moment. He opened his mouth, only to snap it shut with a quick shake of his head. When he did speak again, there was the faintest hint of a smile.

“Yeah, uh… Had a few people asking ‘bout it, but I don’t remember shit from that talk so… Is it too late to join one of these class things you is doing?” Yancy mentally slapped himself for doing the opposite of what he had intended, but it wasn’t met with a cocky reaction. Instead, Illinois’ face lit up like the Fourth of July and invited Yancy to the desk so they could check if there was a class that would fit neatly into Yancy’s schedule. There was a hint of awkwardness between them, but Illinois was optimistic that this could be the start of a better chapter for them.

However, he did get a little ahead of himself and winked at Yancy just before the prisoner left. Yancy rolled his eyes, but the dismissive look had a trace of amusement in it as he left. Once the door closed, Illinois found himself staring at it for several long moments.

Okay… Maybe there was a bit of an attraction toward Yancy after all.