#at this point I'm tossing that tag on any comic with the two of them together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagination-overreaction · 2 months

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More tf2 ships lets go

Soldier x Demoman / Boots n Bombs

Starting off with a Demoman ship cause this man does not get enough love I think. These two enable each other's stupidity to an incredible degree. They're both geniuses in the art of reckless stupidity, and with their brains and hearts combined they could be making new inventions like "ultra turbo sticky-nade launcherator" and it flings them 8 miles in the air and they die instantly (but they both cheer and think it's awesome once they're revived and they do it again. Medic doesn't care, but he's getting a bit bored of piecing together the same two bodies over and over again). These two would become masters of destruction. I also can imagine them passed out on the couch on top of each other, or Soldier waking up to do drills at 4 am and Demo telling him to fuck off (Soldier can't help it, his love language is explosives and boot camp </3). I like them a lot.

Scout x Sniper / Speeding Bullet

I will admit, I am a bit of a Scout hater when it comes to ships... Actually I'm just a Scout hater in general. However, I do think the dynamic of "annoying little shit" plus "gruff weird guy" works. Scout is the type to press his partner's buttons for the funnies (although he does this with his friends as well) but given how he was in Expiration Date as well as the Cold Day In Hell comic (if I remember right), then he would be genuinely caring and considerate toward his partner's feelings. Scout would push his buttons, but an hour later he'd be splayed out on top of Sniper and rambling about his day. Sniper is more blunt and to-the-point with affection, I think. He'd bother Scout right back, of course, and he'd just as happily sit there and nod along to whatever the hell Scout is talking about. These two would stay up until 5 am together several nights in a row.

Heavy x Pyro / Bear Grill

Since it's such a rare pair, there's some debate on what the ship name actually is. "Russian Wildfire," and "Heavy Fire" are the alternatives I've seen after scouring the tags. I'd like to toss my own suggestion in with "Firing Squad," although that could probably work for other ships too. I personally really like the hc that Pyro is (maybe aro?)ace, and I think that works well with Heavy (I also hc it/they Pyro but any pronouns work for this lil guy tbh). Heavy would support his little maniac's vested interest in fiery homicide just ignore the fact that he says he's scared of them in Meet The Pyro that's not important right now, and I think Pyro would really like watching Heavy use Sasha (the muzzle flash would be really neat in Pyro Vision). Outside of battle, I can imagine Heavy taking care of his guns while Pyro talks to him and tells a (very muffled) story. Heavy would listen to it when it talks about all the wonderful things it sees during their battles, and Heavy would maybe defend it when the other mercs start talking about how terrifying it is... Maybe. They're still very concerning.

Engineer x Heavy

There is no damn posts about this. "Heavy Metal" is a slightly popular one but "More Gun" has been suggested a lot, as well as "Mechanical Literature." I personally like More Gun(s), and I honestly really like this ship, and I feel like it works really well for the same reason that they both work well with Medic--they're both relatively calm and amicable compared to the rest of the team. I feel like Engie and Heavy would be the parents of the team, telling people to go to bed before 3 am and not to explode things in the house (it doesn't work but they can try) (and Engie probably has been the source of one or two fires but not necessarily on purpose). These two would be sickly together. Engie'd be going "good morning Misha 🥰✨" and tap Heavy's shoulder until he leans down far enough to let Engie kiss him on the cheek, and Heavy would give a quiet happy hum as Engie whistles away and they make me sick. I love them so much.

I also think that Engineer would give Heavy some absolutely monstrous artillery as a gift. They absolutely enable each other's horrific acts of bloodshed. More Gun <3

Part 1 - - Part 3

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mccall-muffin · 2 years

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Love vs. Hate - Part 2 // Joe Liebgott x OC

Previous // Next Summary: Technical Sergeant Olivia Stark knows the military. Raised in a military family, a graduate of military school and OCS herself, she is transferring from the 82nd Airborne Division to the 101st. Between new friends and what appear to be foes, she becomes a part of Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, 506th PIR.

Warnings: Language (as for now)

A/N: And here goes Part 2. Enjoy :) If someone wants to be added to the tag list, just send me a message! 12 Miles are about 20 Kilometers, by the way :P Tag list: @brassknucklespeirs

6th November 1942 - Camp Toccoa, Georgia I've been with Easy Company for two months, and I'm getting along better and better with the men. Well, with almost all of them, at least. Liebgott, my bed neighbor, still acts cold and dismissive towards me. But I have found a real friend in Don Malarkey. As for Sobel... Well, he keeps his word and treats me like any other soldier. This means that he also regularly revokes my weekend passes and yells at me.

I point to the sky as we lay exhausted on the grass after another Currahee run. "Someday... Someday I'm going to kill that bastard, I promise you," I say, and Don grins at me. "I think you'd have a lot of support here, sweetheart." I smile at him as well. "I think so." "Liv?" We hear a voice, and Lip walks up to us. "Lip?" "Can I talk to you for a second?" I nod and stand up. "See you later, Don."

I follow Lip, who pulls me aside for a moment. "How are you?" he asks, and I look at him in surprise. "What do you mean?" "Exactly that, Liv. I want to know how you're doing. And how it's going with the men." "You know you don't have to watch me, Lip, right? I'm fine. I'm getting along great with Don and Muck and Penky and the others. Except maybe Liebgott, but he's just him." Lip nods. "Thanks, Lip... You kind of remind me of my brother Damon." Lip smirks. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, he was always so protective of me too." "Where is he now?" "Somewhere in the pacific, as far as I know. He's a lieutenant in the Marines." Lip nods, and together we walk toward the mess hall. "I guess your family's into the military, huh?" Lip grins as we grab food. "Well... My dad is a Colonel with the 2nd Ranger Battalion, my other brother Tommy is also a Lieutenant, and as far as I can tell from my mom's last letter, my little sister Cindy enlisted. Only my mom and my older sister Lily are not in the military."

Lip and I sit down with our food. Not a minute later, Don and Muck join us. "And your mom just supports that? That she lets almost all of her kids go to war?", Lip asks, and Don looks up. "Well, we all went to military school. Somehow it wasn't a discussion at all. We were all active soldiers, so it wasn't even an issue that we weren't fighting. We were drafted." "How come you ended up with paratroopers?" then asks Muck. "Well, I didn't want to be under my father. That would have been a pre-programmed issue. When I was in OCS, I heard about the Airborne and enlisted, so they sent me to the 82nd. The men there were not very open to me and made my life hell. Except for one soldier. He was always nice and acknowledged whether I had tits or a dick." The guys laugh, and Don puts a hand on my shoulder. "Just like us."

This evening It's Friday night, and I'm lying on my cot reading a book. Next to me, George and Don are playing a game, and on my other side lies Liebgott, engrossed in his comics as usual. I sit up and take a smoke from the pack, but I can't find a lighter. "Can I have your lighter real quick?" I ask Liebgott, and he looks up at me, annoyed. "Get your own," he grumbles, and I roll my eyes. "I have one, but I can't find it, so get your head out of your ass and give me yours." Now Liebgott is looking at me. He snorts, shakes his head, and then tosses me his lighter before turning back to his comic. I take it and light the cigarette. "You guys are like an old married couple," Don says, grinning at us, which earns him a dirty look from Liebgott and me. "Shut up, Malarkey!" then says Liebgott. I throw his lighter back at him, but he doesn't see it, and it lands right in his crotch, causing him to groan.

"Jesus Christ, Stark! What the fuck?!" he curses, giving me a nasty look. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," I say quickly, but I can't suppress a laugh. Liebgott holds his soft parts and writhes in pain. "At least you had some female interaction in your crotch for once now, Joe," George grins, making us laugh even harder. Liebgott stands up angrily. "Oh, fuck all of you!" he says and walks outside. Amused, we watch him go. "Isn't he a ray of sunshine?" I ask, addressing Don and George, who grin at me.

Suddenly Winters enters the barracks, and we quickly stand up. "Second Platoon, we're moving out. Full dress and ready for the night march. Canteens filled. You have ten minutes." He leaves the barracks again. I glance at Don before looking briefly at Liebgott's empty bed. If he misses the march, he's screwed. I quickly change and am already on my way out. "Where are you going?" George asks me. "I'm going to find Private Sunshine. Someone should probably tell him he has to be outside in five minutes." "You're too nice, Liv. If someone treated me like that, I'd ditch him." "I'm a platoon Sergeant Don. I have responsibilities." With those words, I leave the barracks and look around outside.

I find Liebgott near the latrines. "Hey," I call out to him, and he groans in annoyance. "What do you want, Stark? You want to kick some more?" he asks, looking at me. "No, actually, I don't. Whereas, if you keep talking to me like that, then maybe. I just wanted to inform you that in..." I glance at my watch for a moment. "...Three and a half minutes, we have to be ready to march in full gear. But do what you want." I turn away from him and go back to the others. "Why are you telling me this?" "Because, unlike you, I'm not an asshole."

Once again, Easy Company is on their Friday night march. Fully loaded and ready, they march their 12 miles. I walk silently beside Don. "I'm going to say something now," Bull whispers to George, as he's getting really tired of it. "To who?" he asks back, and Bull looks to Winters. "Lieutenant Winters?" "What is it?" the latter asks back. "Permission to speak, sir." "Permission granted." "Sir, we have nine companies, sir," he notes, and I can only imagine what he's getting at. "We do," Winters says. "Then how come we're the only company that marches 12 miles in full dress in the dark every Friday night?" "What do you think, Private Randleman?" "Lieutenant Sobel hates us, sir." I can't help but smirk in amusement. "Oh, I don't think Lieutenant Sobel hates Easy Company, Private Randleman. He just hates you," Winters returns, and I never imagined such cold humor from him. Many of the men start laughing. "Thank you, sir." "But he still hates you the most, Liv," Don says next to me, making George laugh in front of us. "What do you want me to do?" I grin. "Leaving would be an option," she then hears Liebgott behind her, and she looks at him briefly. "And make it so easy for you? Forget it, Liebgott! It's too much fun to piss you off," I say sarcastically, seeing Don smirking beside me.

After we have completed the march, I fall into my bed, exhausted. Poor Christenson. He has to repeat the whole march. "Hey, you know what?" Don then says, looking at me. "What?" "Tomorrow, we can finally go out. I think this is one of the first weekends when we all still have our passes. What do you think, Liv? Have a little fun?" I sit up on my bed and beam at Don. "You don't have to ask twice, Malarkey! Penky, you in?" I ask Alex, who shakes his head at his nickname, but then agrees. "You guys aren't going without me, though! I've made it my mission to get this little bird here bottled up." "You're welcome to try, Luz, but I'm telling you... I'm pretty hard drinking!" "We'll see about that, Stark," George grins, and I wink at him. "Will you guys shut up already? Some people would like to sleep." "Oh, stop being such a baby Liebgott. You can sleep plenty when you're old and shriveled! Tomorrow, it's time to celebrate!"

7th November 1942 - Camp Toccoa, GA After a few quiet lessons on Saturday morning, we finally have free time. We put on our starting uniforms and gather. We're a sizable group and off to Toccoa for a bit of a shindig. Don, George, Muck, Penkala, Toye, Guarnere, Christenson, Webster, Popeye, Skinny, and a few others join us. Even Lip comes along. What amazes me is that when I leave the barracks, Liebgott is standing next to Don, waiting. "Well, look at that," Don laughs when he sees me. "What, never seen a woman before?" I ask, punching him in the shoulder. "Yes, I have, but I've never seen you in a skirt and high heels before." "And you won't often, Don, so memorize that image well." I've made myself pretty for the day. My hair is down and slightly wavy, and I've painted my lips with dark red lipstick.

Behind me, I hear a whistle, and when I turn around, Muck is standing in front of me. "Oh la la, what do we have here?" he grins and comes toward us. "Shut up, Skip. Remember... Faye is waiting for you at home." "Yeah yeah, but you're still allowed to look, right?" "Ah, shut it, Muck."

Don grins and puts an arm around my shoulders. "Shall we?" he asks, and I nod with a smile. Then I notice Liebgott's gaze, eyeing me. "See something you like, Liebgott?" I ask, and he looks me in the eye. He bites his lips briefly and twitches an eyebrow. "Seen better." "Of course you have." I shake my head, and Don grins at me. "Well, let's go."

When we finally get to the pub, Don orders a round of beers for us. The bar is packed with soldiers. "Wow, pretty crowded in here, huh?" I say to no one in particular, but Muck agrees with me anyway. Our group quickly disperses, and we sit, laugh, and smoke comfortably. "I'll get the next round," I say and stand up before heading to the bar. I place the order and wait patiently, but then I feel something on my butt. I turn around and look into the eyes of a soldier who smiles at me insinuatingly. "Well, darling? Can I buy you a drink?" he asks, and I look at him incredulously. "Does that usually work? You grope a lady, and then she lets you have it?" I ask, but his grin doesn't disappear. "Come on. I'll be happy to show you a real man." "No thanks. And I doubt you'll be able to show me. And now, if you don't mind..." I turn away from him again, but he grabs my arm. It seems he hasn't seen my badges on my sleeve either.

"You're pretty cheeky; you know that? But I like cheeky!" he says and pulls me towards him. As I want to tell him off, he is yanked away from me. "I think she told you to fuck off," Liebgott says, holding the man by the collar. Now other soldiers take notice, including Don and the others, who immediately come over. "Stay out of this, asshole!" grumbles the soldier, glaring at Liebgott. "This is between the pretty lady and me." "Yeah, and the pretty lady told you to fuck off. So accept it and fuck off!" "What's going on?" Don asks me, but my attention is on Liebgott and the other soldier. "I didn't hear it from her, though." The soldier looks at me, and I raise an eyebrow. Liebgott lets go of him and steps aside. "Well, then, please..." The soldier looks at me promptly. "What he said," I say perkily and wave him off. "That your man? Is that it? You should tell your slut that maybe she should send less lewd signals when..." But that's as far as he gets because Liebgott punches him.

The soldier goes down, holding his bloody nose. "You son of a bitch!" "She's our fucking platoon sergeant, in case you overlooked that. So shut the fuck up and stay away from her." In disbelief, I look at Liebgott. He just punched a man for me. I walk up to the soldier on the ground and take his name tag in my hand. "Private Stretton, is it? Maybe I should have a word with your CO. You should probably re-learn the rank insignia. And if I see you coming near anyone again who doesn't want it, I'll personally make sure you get your punishment. Understood?" The soldier snorts but then nods.

Don and Muck grin behind me. "Come on, I'll take care of this," Don says, pointing to the beers that are now ready and taking them to the table with Muck. At our table, I turn to Liebgott. "Thank you," I say, smiling gently. "I didn't do this for you," he returns, and I look at him, confused. "That was for Easy Company. And whether I like it or not, you're part of it. No one disrespects us. To make that clear, you were just a means to an end." Liebgott walks away from me, and I look after him, perplexed. I sit down and look at the table in front of me. "What a prick..." I grumble. "Yeah, part men really don't know how it works..." Muck says, but Don shakes his head. "I don't think she meant him." Liv is still looking at Liebgott, standing with Talbert and the others.

"Forget about him, Liv. I don't think anyone understands the complex thing in Joe's head," Don says, drawing my attention back to himself. "I just don't understand it. Did I do anything to him?" Don and Muck exchange a look, but Liv can't interpret it. "Not that I know of," Muck then says with a shrug. "But it doesn't matter, anyway. Let Liebgott think what he wants. We like you, and I think most people in Easy do." "Thanks, Muck," I say with a smile and take a sip of my beer. "Soon, we'll be off to Fort Benning. Are you nervous yet?" asks Don, then looking at me. "No, not really. It's just jump training, right?" Don starts to laugh. "Yeah, I'll tell you again when we get to the plane door."

Still thinking about Liebgott, I sit at the table with Don a little later. Muck has disappeared somewhere, and Penkala is dancing with a girl. "Come on, Liv... Just forget it," Don says, looking at me. "I know, Don. But..." "No buts," Don interrupts me. He stands up and holds out his hand to me. I look at him questioningly. "Come on. A dance will take your mind off things." For a moment, I eye my friend and then take his hand. "There you go." Don leads me onto the dance floor, taking my left hand in his and placing his other on the small of my back before he begins to move and lead me.

For a while, we dance without speaking. My gaze keeps automatically wandering to Liebgott without me being able to stop it. "Hey. Stop", Don says, and I look at him. His dark eyes search mine. "Just look at me, will you? It's not worth you letting him ruin your night. What was it like yesterday? It's time to party today," he grins, infecting me. I smirk and look down at the floor for a moment. "No, look at me, Liv. Just me." I lift my eyes again and then laugh as Don grimaces. "You really are unbelievable, Don." "But it works, right?" I nod and focus on him and our dance.

When the song ends, Don pulls me into his arms, and I laugh. I don't notice his gaze shift to Liebgott, who is watching us closely. "Come, let's take a break," Don says, leading me back to our table. "I didn't know you could dance like that, Malarkey. You never cease to amaze me." "That's what I'm here for, right?" I smile at him and nod. "Seems so." I look down at my glass and take a sip. "Thanks, Don. For everything." "No need to thank me, sweetheart." "Sweetheart?" I ask with amusement. "It is what it is, Liv. You can't deny it," he laughs, raising his glass. "Here's to Liv. Easy Company's sweetheart." "Oh, come on," I laugh out now. "You're going to regret those words someday." "I don't think so. Even though it's only been two months, I think I know you better than you think." "Is that so?" "Yep. And as your newly appointed best friend, it's my job to look out for you, sweetheart." I raise my glass as well and bump it against his. "To best friends." "To best friends," he repeats.

"Hey, what are you doing?" then shouts George, pulling up a chair to our table. "I thought I was your best friend, Liv?" "Sorry, Luz, that post has just been taken," Don grins, and I shake my head laughing. "Don't worry, George, I'll find another post for you," I laugh, and he looks at me with mock indignation. "I can't accept that, Sergeant Stark." We all three laugh and call it a night.

13th November 1942 - Camp Toccoa, GA The following week, after Sobel is promoted to Captain and Winters to 1st Lieutenant, Don and I are in line for food. It's a quiet afternoon with lessons, and as a small celebration of the promotions, we have spaghetti today. At least, if you can call it that. Rumor has it that Sobel requested this single-handedly from Winters after he sentenced him to two weeks as Mess Officer.

"I can't believe we're actually getting some real food for once," says Don, standing behind me in line. "You call that something real, Malarkey?" asks Bill, standing in front of me and turning to look at us. "I'll make you something real someday, Don, but this? I don't know what to call it," I grin. When we get to the front, the kitchen soldier turns away from us with the pan. "Hold on, more coming. These guys are packing it away," he says, pointing to the soldiers who already have some food. We wait, and when we have our portions, we sit at a table. "This stuff's orange. Spaghetti ain't supposed to be orange," Penkala grumbles, poking at his food. "This ain't spaghetti. This is army noodles with ketchup," interjects Perconte, sitting diagonally across from me. "You ain't gotta eat it," Bill now asks, and Perconte looks at him incredulously. "Oh, come on, Gonorrhoea, as a fellow Italian, you should know that calling this crap spaghetti is a mortal sin."

Suddenly a hand reaches forward from the table behind us. "You don't want it? I'll have it," Hoobler says, and I laugh. "No, no, no, I'm eating here," Perconte returns, reaching for his plate. "Hey, get outta here," now chides Bill, whose plate was also nearly stolen.

I just shake my head and look down at my plate. "Aren't you going to eat?" Don asks me with his mouth full, pointing at my plate. "I don't know, Don. Something's not right here somehow. This is so not Sobel. The weather's not too bad. So why would he give us a quiet afternoon AND spaghetti?" Don shrugs. "Best not to question it at all, kid," Bill says, shoveling in his pasta. I look at the men at my table, all stuffing their food down. As I'm about to put my fork in my mouth, the door is yanked open.

"Orders changed. Get up. Lectures are canceled - Easy Company is running up Currahee," Sobel shouts, and we all quickly stand up. "Move, move. Three miles up, three miles down. Hi yo silver. Let's go, let's go," he continues to call, and I look at Don. "Fuck," I huff and follow the others into the barracks. "It's like you have a sixth sense, Liv," Don grumbles beside me as we change clothes. "It's called female intuition, Don."

A short time later, we run Currahee. I'm happy I haven't eaten anything, but the other men suffer quite a bit. Many of them are throwing up and not in good shape, which spurs Sobel to bring them down even more. "You're a washout, Private Hoobler. You should pack up those ears and go home," he shouts into the neck of Hoobs, who is visibly struggling. But Hoobs is not the only one. "Looks like Gordon's done, aren't you, Gordon? You finished? You do not deserve to get your wings," he shouts to Smokey, running beside me. As Sobel turns away again, I reach out my arm and give Smokey's hand a quick squeeze. "Don't listen to him," I hiss as I hear Sobel taking on Bull. "Thanks, Liv, but that's easier said than done," he whispers back. "I know, but you're just as good as any of us, okay? We can do this. All of us!"

Suddenly, in front of me, I hear George start to sing a song. "We pull upon the risers." Of course, it doesn't take long for all the soldiers to join. "We pull upon the grass. We never land upon our feet; we always hit our ass. Hi dee, hi dee, Christ Almighty, who the hell are we? Zim, zam, goddamn, we're Airborne infantry. We pull upon the risers; we pull upon the grass. We never land upon our feet; we always hit our ass. Hi dee, hi dee, Christ Almighty, who the hell are we? Zim, zam, goddamn, we're Airborne infantry."

It seems Sobel doesn't like this at all because I can see him slow down and then stop in the corner of my eye.

#Band of Brothers #bob #bobedit #joe liebgott #don malarkey #dick winters #Joe Liebgott x OC #ww2 #hbowar #hbo series #Here we go: Part 2 #Part 2 #Basic Training

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awhmilkywey · 3 years

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burgers and fries | t. carrick |

pairing & genre: tobias carrick x f!mc (ava dahl) — fluffy as hell

warnings: one curse word | english is not my first language

word count: 2.4k

request | prompt | neither | challenge

tags: @usuallyamazinglyaverage ; @perriewinklenerdie ; @cyb3r-kat ; @moonsoltice ; @romewritingshop ; @tsrookie ; @hedwigsbixch

a/n: a special thank you to @usuallyamazinglyaverage @perriewinklenerdie and @cyb3r-kat for allowing me the use of their characters (anna dawson, claire herondale and bianca hemgrove, respectivel) and a bonus to perrie for being generally awesome and helping me out with this fic. You can thank her for the Romeo line!

Ava has a history of flouting protocol to assist her patients.

The machine whirred to life, shooting a steady stream of murky liquid into the small paper cup. Ava skimmed her medical chart while she waited. Her patient was a young adult who came in with severe chest pain and discoloured skin around her calves. The primary doctor wrote down that earlier scans ruled out heartburn as well as pericarditis. She reached for her coffee and took a cautious sip. The blemishes could point towards a blood clot—deep vein thrombosis, perhaps? It could quickly develop into a pulmonary embolism if left untreated.

The nurses' station was relatively quiet when she approached.

“Could you order a lung scan and a chest X-ray for my patient, please?”

Marlene took the chart with a professional nod. Her exhaustion matched her own.

Ava murmured a quiet thank you and tossed her cup in the bin. The results wouldn't be back for a couple hours. If her hunch was correct then she would most likely need to page the surgical department. For now, however, her rounds were finished and she could take a breather.

Her face twisted into a frown as she remembered her bag was still in the conference room. Her confrontation with Harper ensured she had been too uncomfortable to remain there. Ava decided to take the stairs one at a time. Saying she was dreading their next meeting was an understatement. They would need to have a serious conversation with Bloom. Ethan breaching protocol was on him alone. A conversation with Harper was in order as well; earlier she had been caught by surprise but she wouldn't let that kind of treatment stand. Barging in, wrongfully accusing her without any evidence whatsoever, yelling and refusing to believe her even when the culprit was standing right there—Ava wondered when the cool renowned surgeon became an unruly child.

The revelation that Harper still saw her as a reckless intern made her incredibly angry. Her one mistake happened over two years ago and she came forward to shoulder the blame. Ava had grown since then, both as a doctor and as a person. Her near-death experience also served to put things into perspective, to say the least. She would always have the best interest of her patients at heart but she would never again jeopardize her career so foolishly.

That thought brought her back to Ethan. Frankly she didn't recognise him any more. He came back from the Amazon a different man—one she wasn't sure she liked all that much. Their tentative relationship hadn't stood a chance. Him being her attending was difficult enough, then she was facing the possibility of being suspended, and just as she thought they could make it work after all, Naveen promoted her and Ethan was her superior once more. He maintained a painfully professional demeanour around her from there on out. Ava wasn't doing too great during that time.

And when her intern year came to an end, he disappeared. He wasn't answering her calls nor her texts and her trips to his apartment were fruitless. She found out he was out of the country through WHO's Instagram account. She stopped bothering afterwards.

Ava shook her head, red curls bouncing over her shoulders. Dwelling on the past wasn't helpful. Especially when the Ethan from her memories didn't correlate with the Ethan she was currently working with. Her most recent conversations with him left a sour taste in her mouth.

The conference room wasn't as empty as she expected.

“Heading out?” Tobias sent her a warm smile.

“I've some free time to kill.”

He nodded in understanding. “Holding up okay?”

Ava hesitated. It occurred to her that he was the only person she was truly comfortable with on the team. The only one who'd never underestimated her or made her feel lesser.Tobias was the person who either supported her suggestions or countered them with his own logical arguments and used both as teaching opportunities.

“I've been through worse,” she replied, shrugging non-committally.

He scowled. “What Harper did was uncalled for.”

Ava offered him a wry smile. “I have a history, don't you see?”

“Oh you mean the history of being civil to Bloom even though you want to punch his face in?” he asked innocently.

A laugh bubbled up in her chest and he soon followed with his own deep chuckle.

“There's this place downtown.” He sobered up but was still grinning. “One of my favourites, if you want to check it out.”

“What's in it for me?” Ava raised a playful eyebrow.

His eyes darkened, tongue briefly flickering out. “Good music, good books. We could get dinner after.”

Ava swallowed. “Sounds fantastic.”

Tobias' intense look softened. “It's a date,” he said cheekily.

She laughed again and swatted at his arm. “Lead the way, Romeo, before I change my mind.”

Bantering with him was easier than it should've been. Knowing how laid-back he could be when comfortable made her notice more about how he carried himself around the rest of the team. It gave her a small thrill to be able to witness that side of him.

Tobias drove her to a time-worn shop tucked away between a colourful diner and a boarded-up building. An old sign hung over the entrance reading The Starlight Den. The outer walls were covered in messy chalky drawings and splashes of peeling paint, broken crayons and plastic buckets sitting to one side. He laid a hand on her lower back, gently guiding her through the battered wooden door.

“I used to come here all the time as a kid,” he commented, glancing fondly around the shop.

Neutral colours predominated with the occasional vibrant hue flashing here and there. Bookshelves lined the left side, brimming with works from classics to comic books. Customers could settle down on various armchairs and sofas, reading under the light of several dimmed lamps. Ava slid her eyes from the makeshift coffee bar to the vintage posters on the opposite wall. A soft tune drifted from the gramophone in the corner. Neat stacks of vinyl records were arranged in polished boxes in the centre. A counter held several players for general use nearby.

“This is a dream come true,” Ava marvelled, running her fingertips across the book spines.

Tobias hummed, reaching to pluck a comic from the shelf. He presented it to her with a flourish. Spider-Man was holding a man clad in green on the cover.

“First introduction to Spidey. Also the first comic I ever read,” he disclosed, absently thumbing through the pages.

“I didn't know you read comics.”

Tobias cocked his head. “Haven't read them in a long while but they were a big part of my childhood.”

Ava cast a look about. “I can see why you'd like to come here.”

Two teenagers were hanging around a record player, giggling quietly to each other, while a sharply dressed man made small talk with the handsome man behind the register. The overall atmosphere was quite cosy. It felt a bit like home. When she returned her wandering gaze to Tobias, he offered her a knowing smile.

“I have an idea,” he announced with a quick clap of his hands. “We each pick a book and a record for the other. I have a player back at my apartment.”

Ava crossed her arms. “Is this a ploy to get me into your bed, Carrick?”

He raised his palms up in mock surrender. “Absolutely not. Just a ploy to get a pretty woman eating take-out on my couch.”

“From that diner next door?”

“Rosa makes the best burgers and milkshakes in Boston.” He gave a solemn nod, cracking up in the following beat.

Ava contemplated him. “It's a date.”

He lit up with a boyish smile.

She didn't know much about his likes and dislikes given that all their interactions revolved around their work. Browsing the bookcases, she opted to get him a copy of The Little Prince. She remembered her papa reading it to her when she was sick or when grief was heavier than most days. She picked up A Day at the Raceson her way to the counter.

“Don't peek,” Tobias warned after their purchases were done. “I'm going to get our food and then we can head back.”

“I want nuggets.” Ava blushed when her stomach growled.

He patted her head. “As you wish, m'lady.”

Ava watched him walk away, unable to remember the last time she was this happy. Tobias was so carefree. He didn't allow their work to burden him, always trying to finding the silver lining in each case, and refused to let it interfere with his life outside the hospital. It was a breath of fresh air, compared to her previous relationship with Ethan. Tobias was light where Ethan was dark.

The ride back to his flat was mostly quiet. He tapped on the wheel along with the song playing on the radio—she vaguely recognised it as being a new Ariana Grande single. She, on the other hand, was more occupied with staring out the window and trying to control her nerves. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, making her almost want to throw up. Tobias was undeniably attractive, charming and witty. And they were going to be alone at his place.

Ava choked on air.

He was quick to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey, I got you.” At her lack of response, he slid his hand further and began to rub her back, eyes briefly leaving the road to look her over.

“I'm good,” she gasped.

His touch continued to burn her skin until the car was parked in his garage.

Tobias' flat was messier than she expected but not in the dirty sense of the word. It was a sort of organised chaos that breathed life into the walls. The coffee table peeked from beneath a mountain of medical journals, two blankets were thrown haphazardly on the couch with a pillow half-fallen on the carpet, like he had dozed off while reading. The telly was still on as well and she paused to watch Jessica Aniston and Matt LeBlanc acting on the screen.

He steered her towards the kitchen.

“I forgot to clean, sorry.” He seemed unusually sheepish.

“Mine's not much better, believe me,” she reassured him, squeezing his arm. She took the food bags from him and set them on the table. “Kitchen or living room?”

“Living room!” he called out from the pantry, coming out with a package of napkins and a container of assorted candy.

He had stored away the blankets and the pillow by the time she brought the food to the coffee table, journals stashed away in the corner bookcase. Ava noticed that he also changed into a looser tee, his biceps highlighted underneath the artificial lighting. He grabbed their purchases from the shop and turned to her with a bright smile.

“I realised we don't actually know each other that well,” he said, grabbing the book from the bag, “and I would like to remedy that.”

Ava accepted the gift, lips quirking up at the sight of the blue cover. “I've never read The Great Gatsby,” she informed.

His smile widened. “Let me know what you think when you're done, yeah?”

“I got you this one.” God she was nervous. “I, uh—I didn't know what you liked so I figured I'd give you one of my favourites. After my mum died... my dad used to read it to me as a kid.”

Tobias met her gaze and she was surprised to see him so serious. “I—Thank you, Ava. It means a lot that you would share that with me.”

She needed to look away. Was he getting closer?

Her stomach growled again.

“Eat,” he murmured, slowly leaning back. “I'll put the records on.”

He returned to the couch as the beginnings of Dancing Queenfilled the room. Ava beamed.

“How did you know?”

He popped a fry in his mouth. “I may have cheated on this one. Claire told me you were a fan.”

The mention of her friend warmed her heart. “I didn't know you and C were buddies.”

Tobias rubbed the back of his neck. “We're not, not really. I, um, went to ask her how you were after what happened. Anna and Hemgrove were gone already, so...”

His concern sent the butterflies into a frenzy. Ava focused on her burger so he wouldn't see the deep red staining her cheeks.

It was only two episodes into Friends that she noticed the missing fries in her plate. An indignant yelp was muffled by the food in her mouth. Tobias blindly reached for another one but she slapped his hand away, earning her a surprised squawk from the man. Ava made a move for his plate and was stopped when he put his arm between them, lifting the other up so she wouldn't touch his food.

“Oi! That's not fair!” she protested, not realising she was half-sitting on his lap as she tried to get her fries back.

“All's fair when you're hungry, sweetheart,” he retorted, laughing at her worthless attempts.

The loud sound of porcelain breaking was unmistakable. In an effort to get closer, she had pressed against his chest, their bodies practically glued together, and the twist of his wrist weakened his grip on the plate. Ava sunk into him in defeat and promptly peeped as her groin made contact with his.

“Shit, sorry Av—nghh...” He cut off with a strangled moan.

Ava hurried to relieve the pressure of her thigh on his crotch, feeling mortified.

“I'm sorry—” “Wait—” they spoke at the same time, both floundering.

“Just—wait.” Tobias held onto her hips, heaving out a frustrated sigh.

She would never admit to anyone that no, she very much did not want to move.

Except maybe to the girls, who would most definitely grill her tomorrow.

They remained in that exact position for a couple silent moments. Neither sure what to say nor how to act upon the revelation that they were entirely too comfortable physically for two people who were supposed to be just work acquaintances.

Up close, his eyes looked more green than brown. Ava told herself that she had bigger things to worry about.

But it was a pretty colour.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he quietly confessed. “I have to know, though. Is—is there anything between you and Ethan?”

She let out a shaky breath, touching her forehead to his. “Not since last year.”

He gave a short nod, raising a hand to cup her face. “Could there be anything between us?”

“Why don't you kiss me and find out?” she whispered against his lips.

She felt his smile before he did.

#tobias carrick #open heart #choices: stories you play #choices open heart #open heart tobias #choices #fanfiction #f: burgers and fries

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ohhicas · 5 years

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I've only been into comics for a few years, but I've read enough of the old Flash stuff where I adore the classic incarnations of the Rogues. Honestly curious here: what's it like to be a fan of James Jesse back when he was retgonned around 10 years ago and see him brought back but now all mwahaha crazy evil? I'm way more used to Axel (and all that off-panel character development in Nu52, thanks DC) but even I find this kinda weird. Was James ever crazy evil in any arc?

^- me 90% of the time someone says James is coming back to recent media & it’s not a direct continuation of the comics prior to 2004

[ Warning: this is gonna get long and be full of a lot of assumptions. I can never form solid statements and things will get jumbled, because I suck at presenting things ]

[ this is my can of worms hill and you opened it so I’m dYING HERE ]

I mean, back in the earliest ages, no Rogue had a real personality to speak of? They were just “1960s Bad Guy in a different outfit” at the very start, with quirks! Like James having a thing for toys and nuclear powered flying tricycles. It wasn’t until that era ended that they started getting real distinct and into what a lot of ‘classic’ James fans loved and appreciated?

(I think at least, I’m just One Person here pretending like I even understand HALF of what the ‘classic’ fandom enjoyed. I’m wildly speculating just going off what fanworks I’ve seen produced.)

(I don’t have all my scans anymore but I’ll toss in scans when I have them)

But that’s when we started getting things like James actually having specified friendships with certain people

or clear distaste towards others, and when you could tell he was more of a wild card than the others. Or when he decided to fuck off and hang out in Hollywood with Blue Devil for a bit, even siding with Kid Devil to deck out Captain Boomerang.

Or when he decided to fuck off to Gotham, to mess with Catwoman by pretending he didn’t know who she was, but absolutely knew who she was because of how she walked and carried herself, but James being James was like “mmmmm long con, nope”

hey lil Cold, gimme all ur guns and don’t question why I’m in drag xoxo

Even then, he wasn’t shown to be vicious yet! He’d hopped around various places, was still considered A Rogue, A Criminal, and as far as any comic reader could tell by trying to count up how many civilians may have been crossfired at, he had no On Purpose deaths racked? Like, the only thing you could really argue was he may have made someone drive their car off a cliff once, but I’m like 98% sure they’re fine. He’s not a murderer, he’s just here for a laugh and a long-con for funsies because he know he can get away with it!

AND THEN WE GET A LITTLE OLDER, LITTLE DARKER

[ I’M PUTTING A CUT HERE CAUSE AFTER I THREW IT INTO DRAFTS, I REALIZED I GOT REALLY LONG, I’M SORRY IF MY LAYOUT SUCKS ASS FOR THIS. ]

little more 90s Hair. Little more 90s stereotypical “But what if EVERYONE WENT TO HELL” demon plots against Satanic Hockey Hair Neron. And James? still wasn’t evil? He was a little dismissive when everyone ELSE died sure but he still in the end turned around like “nghgng I’m THE ONLY ONE”, purposely got his ass down there, regretted it, and then beat Neron at his own game to save the entire fucking world. Because! He could! And he did it so well. STILL NOT EVIL, even when he had a chance right then and there to take over everything alongside Neron should he so desire. Like, two words, maybe some under the table BJs depending on how you feel about that pairing (I don’t), and bam. He would’ve bested nearly any other villain in the DCU save like, Satan himself. Or i guess one of those world destroyers. But we’ll get back around to those BOY HOWDY WE WILL GET AROUND TO THOSE.

So James! Saves! The world! Sorta! Later they fight Neron again and his kid he somehow had somewhere down the road (it sounds like I’m complaining, i’m not, I love Billy and Mindy both I just wish they showed up like… ever again?) and he sTILL SAVES EVERYONE.

Piper helps by their 90s ponytails combined.

Somewhere around here, because dates and timing aren’t my strong suit, he also goes and messes with Bart for a bit. It’s pretty much a Spy Vs Spy episode, but with less bloodshed.

ANYWAY IT’S AFTER THIS POINT THAT THINGS GET… where I think the majority of “James is a Low Rate Joker” comes from?

For some unknown goddamn reason, in between issues (James wasn’t a Super Frequent Rogue? He’d show up, sure, but in the huge run of the series he’d just kind of vanish for 20 issues at a time and you’d go “welp, guess he’s still alive”) James went super-cop? like, the FBI? For some reason? Hired James “I am a probably still wanted felon, a man who has escaped jail numerous times, probably never served a full sentence, known Trickster and liar” Jesse. to the FBI. And for so many issues it’s like he legit just. Did this. He threatens to shoot Piper who he was up until this very moment, considerably very close friends with (as far as comics would show Rogue/Rogue friendships), unwilling to help his friend clearly framed for murder of his parents and losing his mind by the day. Despite James talking Hart down a little on the whole ‘THE MAYOR IS ROSCOE ADN NOBODY BELIEVES MEEEEEEEE” thing.

Also he steals Digger’s dead ass corpse?

FBI James is a fucking enigma. Here he is standing up for Gay Rights even though Piper is like “mm maybe I should forgive my abuser??”

BUT. AFTER THIS? WE GET COUNTDOWN WHICH IS JUST. Countdown is. IT’s a problem. James’s personality is IMMEDIATELY HORRIBLY u-turned into “well we need SOMEONE to be the Bad Guy to Piper’s Good!” DESPITE. ALL THESE YEARS OF COMICS.This is the shit you’ll see people who don’t know better or just want a reason to hate the Trickster (despite being 100% okay for them to just say he’s annoying/they don’t like his tights/acrobats are stupid) reference. James is, suddenly, very abruptly, a homophobe. Like an “ew don’t touch me” level homophobe because I’m pretty sure DC snorts cocaine and threw a dart at a board for “how could they make these two fight” and landed on GAY RIGHTS IS TRENDING.

BUTSTILL IN THE FUCKING END OF ALL OF THIS?After so many issues of James being a complete fuckass prick?

springboards himself from his current job of being railroad face putty to catching bullets to make sure Piper wasn’t gonna die. Without knowing the proceedings of this entire plotline, James out of nowhere after so much gaybashing, still finds it in him to leap into the path of multiple bullets and save Piper. Because, yknow, he’s evil!

Later it’s shown he’s been working to take everyone down (y’know, like when he was in the FBI) and left Piper specific helpful notes to do it himself. Because Evil Bad Guy! Helping his gone-good friend! Take down bad guys!

DC I STILL HAVE SO MANY GODDMAN QUESTOINgsd

But yeah that’s. That’s where we last saw James. in 2007, dead, after saving Piper when he could have easily pulled a Joker and ripped HIM down to take hte bullets and etcetc, y’know. Something a Very Bad Person would’ve done, like the characterization we’ve seen now.

His ghost (easily argued as Piper’s own mental construction of James sassing him) sasses Hartley to even, in his mental state, saw off James’s hand so Piper doesn’t have to lug his weight around and has a fighting chance at living. And in the end, when Piper’s fighting the thing that can destroy the fucking world, it’s shown only Piper was the one who could save them? Because his flute, and his musical ability, and [enter DC comic science here]. You could argue this was James, once again, somehow knowing the long-con at play here, getting screwed over at EVERY turn, and sacrificing himself so they ‘good’ team had a fighting chance.You could also argue this is me losing my mind trying to make sense of the things they made James do. (my running argument is he was purposely a prick to push Piper away, so he could keep him safe)

Also Piper plays James a Swan Song of Queen as the final boss explodes and he’s fully prepared to die. So like. There’s that.

AND THATS BASICALLY THE COMICS? The main, ‘canon timeline’ comics. I’m missing a LOT of little things here and there, but I’m not missing anything like body counts, or murder attempts, beyond the old Silver Age “Bad guy of the week” things like trying to make Flash’s head explode, or you know. Other “nobody really has a personality, we just have quirks”.

MY NUMBER ONE GUESS TO WHERE THIS NEW PERSONALITY TREND COMES FROM?

Mark Hamil|’s OG run as him in the old live action show. That characterization was fun, for the time, and I even enjoyed it cause it was just that off the wall and you could tell it was what they used to decide he should be the Joker for the BATS Joker. Consider it a prototype (combined with all the previous comic jokers but that’s not for this long ass post)

And if it’d stayed there, that’d be it! That’s it! But then JLU came along, and they referenced the old show for their version of James with a sprinkling of early-era comics, and a lot of people loved and watched that show. That was their version of the Trickster, because it was their first meeting with him! And I can’t fault that! But that guy was clearly off his rocker and I’m sure if the JLU allowed a higher rating, it would’ve been even closer to the old TV show.

And both of THOSE were heavily, heavily referenced for the CW version, which as I’m at this point now means I need to slap my usual anti-CW tag onto things. I hate the CW James. There is so little comic in him it’s almost disgusting, and they ramped up so much of the Joker side of JLU & OGTV he might as well just be the Joker. It’s not a good representation of him at all. I have, also, only seen his first appearance episode, so maybe I’m wrong? But when you fuck up hard on the first run, why would I return for round 2?

So with ALL THIS–

REBOOT TIME. Whatever the newnew remake is calling itself.

At first! With how James was! In the first panel flash of him clearly behind the scenes tugging so many wires and lines, watching everything with a bucket of popcorn while pulling others to his side, sitting pretty in an old museum? warehouse? highlighted in purples and vintage toys, I was like “holy shit this it. This is My Boy, back from the goddamn limbo-dead. It’s him.” But then“taking over the city entirely” to do? What? Turn it into the world’s biggest Trickster themepark? Make everyone wear striped leggings and combat boots? Martial Law of murder if you don’t carry rubber chickens? This is already veering from anything major James has ever done. As it stands I can’t see the gag here. Its’ weirdly dark and edgy, and way too close to something we saw the 90s TV show Trickster do, in the episode where he basically took over the place. The previews show him being what I’m assuming a Judge, Jury, & Executioner joke– and unless this spins into a Clopin song and dance number and his little hand puppet crops up to slam the button on the guillotine, I’m not having it, DC.

They’re trying to tie him back into the CW, despite the writer saying he really enjoyed the Neron-era things with James (if I’m remembering the interview correctly). And it’s also why you may see me constantly saying “Well I sure as fuck hope Neron shows up” at anything new that’s released, to explain away all of… this.

This isn’t him. If they wanted a murderous Trickster, they should’ve just used Axel. The kid, canonly, tied explosives to stray dogs and homeless people. AXEL is the not-good Trickster, the murderous Trickster, the one you aren’t suppose to feel sorry for beyond being in way over his head due to his young age.

i think I somehow didn’t answer your question

TL;DR

it sucks? it’s also great because there’s a .5% chance that maybe they’ll do it right and won’t reference the fucking 90s noncomic media. But then they do. And all I can do is laugh and shrug like ‘welp I expected nothing’. But when they get it RIGHT it’s like christmas came early.

#anticwflash #james jesse #the trickster #god tumblr don't fuck this post up for me #Anonymous #remember when James made Mark and Digger BOTH run into a wall cause he looney tuned their asses with a black hole??

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bangtanbombimagines · 7 years

Note

Hiii! I'm the Anon who wrote that long message with the prompt request. Can I get 77 w/ Jungkook? Thx -Anon Gears (can I become a regular Anon??)

No Refunds (JungshOOK x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Um…somebody broke that.”

Summary: The first time you meet Jungkook, he ruins a display you spent hours making. But he’s cute and adorably embarrassed, so you make the most out of the situation.

Word count: 1.3k words

You stared at the messy, unorganized space around you, wishing your shift would just end faster. The quaint art supply shop you worked in was rarely busy, let alone on a Wednesday afternoon. You took the job because you needed to fund your university career, plus you supported small businesses.

But your boss was scatterbrained and failed to inventory the store properly, leaving most of the mess to you. Plus, he always insisted on having beautiful window displays, so for the majority of your shift today, you slaved over creating a hanging paper sculpture.

A wave of origami pieces were suspended midair using fishing wire. The colours were pastel to match the spring weather outside. The whole thing was beautiful and terribly decorated, so you shouldn’t have been surprised when the display was immediately destroyed.

Two boys around your age burst into the store, barely sparing you a glance from where you stood behind the cash register, as they chattered excitedly. You observed them openly, since you had nothing better to do. The one standing nearest to you was tall and well built, but had a babyish face–dramatically round eyes and pouty lips. His friend was even taller, and had surprisingly similar facial features.

“Dude, why are we even here? Can you even do art?” the taller one asked as he followed his friend through the tiny, messy aisles.

“The fuck, Yugyeom?” the other boy replied indignantly. “Haven’t you seen me draw before? I am the Art God.”

“Ok, buddy,” Yugyeom scoffed. “If you’re gonna buy something, hurry up. I have class in like, fifteen minutes.”

The two boys rounded the store, approaching the front once again. You held your breath as they neared the window display. The artist friend browsed through a marker display, testing a few on the sample pad below.

“Bro, these Copic markers cost more than me,” the boy sighed.

“There’s a pack here on sale,” his tall friend pointed out from a few feet away.

“No way!” he replied, spinning around excitedly.

Time seemed to pass in slow motion as you watched the disaster unfold.

The boy whipped around, searching for the discounted pack of markers a few feet away from him. As he turned, he stepped back to get a better view of the aisle, completely disregarding the delicate display inches away from where he stood. His backpack got caught on several of the strings and origami sculptures. And as he turned quickly, he ripped them away, sending some of the paper sculptures flying across the store.

The pressure from the boy’s spin also caused the mount every single origami sculpture to collapse. You stared, oddly detached, as you watched your labour tumble to the ground with a loud crash.

The two boys froze, and the store was silent, save for the radio playing softly in the background.

Eventually, you stepped away from the cash register and approached the two boys, who both were staring wide-eyed at the broken display.

“Jungkook, you idiot,” Yugyeom hissed, his eyes darting in between you and the broken window display. “You fucker.”

“So, what happened here?” you asked pleasantly, trying to dispel the burning rage inside you.

“Um…somebody broke that,” Jungkook replied in a tight voice, a fiery blush blooming over his cheeks as he turned to look at you.

“I can see that,” you smiled.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Jungkook blurted out, his eyes still comically wide. “Like I’m so sorry. I’ll pay–no I don’t have any money. I’ll help you fix it!”

You raised an eyebrow at this suggestion. “It took me five and a half hours to make that.”

“You made that!? Holy shit!” Jungkook explained, his expression worsening. “Fuck, I’m so sorry! I’ll do anything. I’m not–I don’t–fuck! Just tell me what I can do.”

“It’s okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “I still have a few hours left of my shift. I’ll just try to…repair what’s left.”

“I swear I can help!” Jungkook cried–although it sounded more like a wail. “I feel so bad about this!”

Normally, you wouldn’t really consider making a customer stay back and help clean up the mess they made. But this customer–Jungkook, apparently–seemed legitimately apologetic and inappropriately guilty. Plus, you just realized he was incredibly good looking and didn’t want to turn down the company.

“Well, if you insist,” you replied. “Let me grab the origami paper. Better prepare for an incredibly boring next two hours.”

“You two have fun,” Yugyeom said, slowly backing away from the mess. “I have class. Jungkook, don’t fuck up more than you already have.”

“Amen,” you muttered, as you walked down a few aisles to locate the cheapest origami paper pack you had.

“How many times can I say I’m sorry!” Jungkook cried, watching his friend who slipped out of the store as quickly as he could. Soon, the store was quiet again, the atmosphere tense. When you returned with your hands full, Jungkook was staring at the ground, his cheeks still flushed.

You tossed him a pack of origami paper, which he fumbled to catch. His eyes darted back up.

“Look,” he began, pausing to peer at your name tag. “Y/N. I’m really, really sorry. I feel really bad about destroying your art.”

“Honestly, I don’t really have any emotional attachment to a window display I made in two minutes’ notice,” you laughed. “Just help me make a few origami sculptures, and we’ll be even.”

So, for the rest of your shift, you and Jungkook hunched over the cash, deftly folding origami paper into pretty little shapes. Surprisingly, Jungkook was quite skilled and didn’t need any instructions. While you worked, you exchanged little tidbits of information about each other.

Turns out, you both attended the same university. Jungkook was a year under you–studying business–and roomed with a few friends nearby.

He sang along quietly to the radio while you worked (“You have a beautiful voice,” you had said to him. After spluttering and blushing terribly, he replied, “Thank you. I’m minoring in music, actually.”).

When the next employee came to take over, they eyed the impromptu workstation you had set up suspiciously.

“This kid destroyed the display, so he’s helping rebuild it,” you explained. “But I’m done here, and so is he. So I’ll leave the rest to you.”

And so you shed your smock and your name tag and promptly scurried out of the store with Jungkook on your heels.

“Is it okay to leave the display like that?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“It’s fine. Plus that guy was late to his shift last week, and I had to stay behind for an extra hour,” you said, feeling a little petty. “Thanks for your help, Jungkook. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah, see you,” he said, sending you an adorable smile that revealed his bunny teeth. And so you parted ways.

You were working the following Wednesday. And like every other Wednesday afternoon, the store was empty. But a few hours before your shift ended, the door chimed as a customer walked in. Your head shot up–you definitely weren’t dozing off–and your eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook waltzing into the store.

“Hi,” he said with a small smile. Jungkook walked right up the cash and leaned against the edge of the counter. The muscles of his arms bulged as he did so, and you were fairly certain that it was on purpose. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, your curiosity piquing.

“I was looking for something, and I think you have it. I want a date,” Jungkook said, blushing faintly, “with you. You and me–a date. Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think I can do that,” you smiled. “No refunds or exchanges. This is final sale.”

“I’ll take it,” Jungkook laughed, his face illuminated with a wide smile.

These days, Jungkook helped you make the window displays for fun. Turned out, he actually did have a knack for art. Your boss was seriously considering hiring Jungkook, but you dissuaded him from doing it. After all, you’d rather have Jungkook all to yourself.

- Girl in Luv

That’s it! Thanks for requesting!!!! And yes, be our regular anon, that’s so cute (and sorry this took us like 5 years to get to omg). If you’re wondering why my characters are always cashiers, it’s because I work part-time as one lmao. I was feeling some awkwardly cute JK. Hope you guys enjoyed. Thanks for reading 🤓

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