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drabbles-mc · 3 years

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Courtesy Call

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request by Anon: A "meet cute" with either EZ or angel where u are walking out of the gas station where the swole boys confrontation is taking place

Warnings: language, smoking, guns, Angel being a smartass

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote for this lovely, lanky man. This request has been sitting in my inbox for a while but I was really feeling it tonight. I tweaked it a little bit but I think it still flows really well. I hope you enjoy!! xo

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There were very few good or fun things about your job at the gas station. It was nice that your boss wasn’t around much—the last thing you wanted to deal with on top of shitty customers was a supervisor breathing down your neck. And sometimes, in the midst of all the lulls and in between the rude people who rolled in and out throughout the day, you got to see some interesting things. For better or worse, travelers were never boring.

You heard the rumble of motorcycles pulling into the lot. The noise was deeper, had a little more muscle to it than the bikes that commonly rolled through your spot. You peeked out the window to look at the gas pumps, and you couldn’t help but to raise your eyebrows in surprise when you saw the two men that were getting off their bikes and unclipping their helmets. If only the bikers in your area looked like that.

One of them started walking towards the door and you immediately set your phone down on the counter, trying to look at the man who had entered without making it too obvious. He perused the aisles for a couple minutes, although he didn’t really seem like he was going to pick anything out to purchase.

He approached the counter and you flashed him a smile, your customer service voice immediately kicking in, “What can I get for you?”

“Just a couple packs of smokes, please,” he pointed to the ones he wanted.

You nodded, “You got it,” you grabbed two packs and set them on the counter, but as he reached for them you didn’t remove your hand. He looked at you, confusion apparent on his face. You chuckled, “ID?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Really?”

You nodded, “Really.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed but there was still a smile on his face as he took his ID out of his wallet and handed it over to you.

You looked over it, nodded, and smiled as you handed it back, “Thank you, Angel.”

His smile shifted into a smirk of sorts, “You’re welcome, querida.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you as you finished ringing him out. He flashed you a wink as he swiped the packs of cigarettes off the counter, “Have a nice day.”

You leaned forward onto the counter, watching him as he walked out, “You too.”

Once he was back outside you sat back down onto your chair, and even though you knew that you shouldn’t, that it was none of your business, you looked out the window to watch him talk with the other man that he had pulled in with. You watched as Angel placed a cigarette between his lips and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as attractive as you did, but oh well.

Your quickly spiraling train of thought was derailed as you heard another set of motorcycles pull into the lot. You couldn’t stop yourself from sighing and rolling your eyes. The Swole Boys might’ve been local but it didn’t make you like or respect them. And it certainly never made them treat you any better, either.

You looked out the window and watched as they walked up to Angel and the other man, and you instantly became interested in how it was going to play out. You couldn’t hear all of what was being said at first, but you were certain that the men who had just rolled in weren’t being courteous, or smart.

The man that Angel had shown up with got off of his bike, and you found yourself walking out from behind the counter and going towards the door. You weren’t planning on going out there and putting yourself in the middle of it, but you wanted a better idea of what was going on. It was hard to hear from behind the counter.

You heard Angel’s voice, “Next time we’ll call the Slow Boys.”

Having the protection of the glass door was a godsend, because you weren’t able to stop the laugh that escaped you. No one ever talked to them that way, and you were thrilled that someone was stepping up to the plate and finally saying something.

The man next to Angel spoke up with a smirk tugging at his lips, “Sorry, he’s just picking up on the lack of cognitive energy comin’ our way.”

You found yourself covering your mouth with your hands as you laughed. Angel and his counterpart were clearly very pleased with themselves, both of them standing with a lot of confidence despite the mounting annoyance of the other bikers in front of them.

The Swole Boys started stepping closer and you saw Angel lean and grab something from his bag. Your eyes grew wide when you saw that he had a gun in his hand. It wasn’t raised, but you still didn’t know where this was going, if you were supposed to step in and say something. You didn’t get paid nearly enough to get shot on the job trying to protect a few douchebag gym-bros, but you didn’t want to say that you didn’t do anything. You saw that the gun was still at his side, so you stayed put and listened to the commentary he was providing. You had to admit it was amusing.

“Shut the fuck up!” Angel snapped and raised the gun, going back and forth pointing it at each of them.

Now the tension was a little too much for you to be completely comfortable with. You ahd no idea what you were going to do, but you couldn’t stand inside anymore. Silently, you slipped out the front door and stood on the sidewalk right in front of it, letting the situation play out a little more. Both Angel and the man with him spotted you, their eyes flicking over to you for a moment even though they didn’t say anything to you.

“You guys are an embarrassment,” Angel shook his head, gun still aimed at the men in front of him, “Now go climb on your homocycles and get the fuck out of here.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to let your shock be too present. You knew that it was still written all over your face, though. And the surprise only intensified when they actually backed off and went back to their bikes. They obviously wouldn’t have been able to go toe-to-toe with Angel and his friend, but on a different day they probably would have been stupid enough to try.

It wasn’t until the guys pulled away that Angel tucked his gun back into his bag and turned to look at you. the tough demeanor he’d just had completely fell away as he stepped a little closer to you.

“Sorry ‘bout all that,” he shook his head slightly.

You chuckled, “It’s fine. Just came out to make sure I wasn’t going to have to add hose blood out of parking lot to my to-do list.”

He laughed, “I would’ve at least stuck around to help with that.”

“No he wouldn’t have,” his friend said with a smile that would make anyone’s knees buckle.

“Man, shut up,” Angel shook his head with a laugh, “Don’t mind my brother—he was dropped on his head a couple times as a child.”

“By you?” you asked with a smile.

He held a finger up to his lips, “We don’t talk about it.”

You looked back and forth between them, crossing your arms over your chest, “You guys just roll into town to stir up trouble, or what?”

Angel shook his head, “Just passing through.”

“Sorry for the scene,” his brother said.

You shrugged, “All good. Not like we’ve got any customers to scare away.”

Angel laughed, “Right, right.”

“You guys should ride through more often,” you nodded towards the road, “Those guys don’t get told to shut the fuck up often enough.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Angel smiled as he hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, “try to swing by and keep ‘em in line.”

You didn’t comment on it, but you could see Angel’s brother smiling and shaking his head as he watched the two of you interact. Clearly Angel was no stranger to chatting up girls that they came across in their travels. Still, this was the most interesting thing that’d happened to you since you started working at the shitty little gas station so long ago. Plus there was something about the look in Angel’s eyes that made you believe that he was an adventure that you’d be up for.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you smiled.

Angel chuckled as he took his phone out of his kutte and handed it over to you, “If you give me your number, I can give you a, uh, a little courtesy call next time I’m around.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you took his phone. For a moment you contemplated putting in a fake number, but going against whatever little alarm bells were going off in the back of your mind, you gave him your real one before handing the phone back over to him.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Let’s go, Angel,” his brother called from his bike with a laugh.

“Looks like you gotta go,” you nodded in the direction of their bikes.

“I’ll see you ‘round, querida,” he shot you a wink before turning to walk away.

“Try not to shoot anyone, boys,” you called after them with a laugh.

Angel smiled over at you as he clipped on his helmet, “No promises.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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foli-vora · 3 years

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more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tags: @anu-simps

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

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Buy me a drink and let me tell you why I need it

Authors note

Thank you very much for the request @caelys I had fun writing it and actually I thought about modern!au John way too much. Like I made a model for his apartment and a playlist and I could possibly draw ten more fan arts of him.

It takes place in a modern setting, but it starts before John goes to the military. He and Tommy still work in the Garrison, besides some other shadier jobs. Arthur is a car mechanic or something like that. Ada still goes to school and Finn too. Polly and Michael are not mentioned here.

Female reader x bartender!John BIG PUNK VIBES HERE!

Actually, this was going to be a multi-chapter fic with intense slow-burn, but whatever there it is. Just say one thing and I’ll write a second part!

tagging @bonniesgoldengirl

Warning: drinking, drug use, marijuana, swearing, infidelity mentioned, a little bittersweet

Word count: 2348

The garrison was not a pub for everyone. It was full of gangsters and other low-life scum. A woman was a curiosity. Working there wasn’t pleasant, but John didn’t complain.

It was the only legal job he got after graduating. He worked at the Garrison twice a week, usually on Friday and Saturday.

The nice thing about this work was the free beer and he could make as many cigarette breaks as he liked.

Nevertheless, John was a little pissed that night, because he could see his friends drinking over there and he had to stand behind the counter. Tommy’s orders!

“Fuck off, Tommy”, he mumbled while cleaning bar. Of course, his brother didn’t hear that, he was busy making some phone calls. John didn’t want to know, who Tommy was calling or why. Probably their next job.

But while he was still on the first one, he didn’t want to think about more work. He already had enough. It was past ten and John hadn’t eaten for hours.

At first, he was to occupied from his work to notice you. You sat down at the bar and cleared your throat. It wasn’t on purpose or to get the bartenders attention. Actually, you just wanted your peace. You hated being trapped in your new apartment, while everything was still so empty. Since you moved, so much changed in your life, but you still felt lonely.

That’s why, you walked straight into the nearest pub, when you couldn’t bear the weight of your own thoughts. But now you realized you hadn’t a penny left. Or at least not enough for a beer. “Get me a glass of water please.”, you said to the bartender, who kept starring at you. First you thought he was a little weird and also a little intimidating, but then you understood what he expected from you. An order, of course.

“A glass of water?”, he asked with a grin on his face: “Really? You know, where you are, girl?”

Now you looked confused. Maybe there was an unspoken rule, to not order a soft drink in this place, but how you should know? After all, you’ve been pretty new to Small Heath. Three days ago you moved into your new place. It was small, but it was yours. Your private space and your sanctuary. “A pub… maybe?”, you joked: “So what about the water?”

“Ah, I get it… It’s the end of month.”, he responded.

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m always broke. Money is not my thing.”

“Not mine either.”

Now he got your attention. You took a closer look at the bartender. He was somehow handsome. A pretty face for a fucked-up place like this. Then you noticed the tattoos on his arms, that peaked out of the sleeves of his shirt. “Dead Kennedys. Nice”, you mumbled and smiled slightly, barely visible.

He put a filled glass in front of you and smirked. “No need to pay.”

Your eyes widened. That bartender really surprised you. He was nicer than he looked like. You took a sip from the glass and nodded. “Thanks… I guess.”

The water was okay, but everything you wished for was a beer or a whiskey. Something to stop your brain from thinking. However, you nipped the glass very patiently, because you didn’t want to leave this place too soon. You didn’t know the neighborhood and chances were high, you got lost on your way around town.

The bartender seemed to notice your tension. “Do you want to drink something else?”

“A beer would be nice.” You croaked

The handsome man behind the bar nodded and pulled out a pint. “A beer, it is.”

You didn’t know it yet, but you were the only thing tonight, that made his work bearable. Everything else was so boring and you were new in town. Every little thing about you was so exciting for him. Staring with the fact that you stumbled into the Garrison without knowing its reputation. Then your little comment about his shirt, yes, he heard that. And your overall appearance was just the cherry on top.

The leather jacket, the ripped jeans and your washed-out Kurt Cobain shirt said a lot about you and John was ready to listen. What else should he do in the next couple of hours until his shift ended?

“I’m John.”, he said and served you a beer.

You noticed the twinkle with his eye and replied with a shy smile. “Just call me Y/n”

The two of you shook hands and exchanged a strange glance. Was he flirting with you? No, of course not, you brushed it off. It was part of his job, to be nice to his customers.

After a few sips of your beer, you calmed down a bit, but not enough. You fumbled in the inside pocket of your jacket for your package. You smoked Dunhill and probably started way to early in life. An end of your smoking addiction was not in sight. The package was already half empty, when you opened it.

“Fuck” you cursed and signed. How could you make it to your next pay check with just a few cigarettes left? Maybe skip dinner a few times.

“Cigarettes are empty too?” he asked “I would give you one of mine, but they are empty too.”

“No, I still have some left, but not enough until July. Maybe not even enough for the rest of this night.”, you explained.

You took two out of the package and put it back. “Want one? I don’t have money, but at least I still have something to smoke.”

“Whatcha smoking?” “Dunhill”, you answered.

A wide grin appeared on his face. “Me too.”

“I know, I shouldn’t… but I just can’t quit.” You shrugged and lit your cigarette.

John brushed it off. “Fuck em. I think, I’m never gonna quit too. This shit just stays with you forever.”

“True”, you signed and took a deep drag from your cigarette.

“So… why am I the only girl in this place? Is there something I should know?”

“Nah, not really. It’s just…”, he began to explain, but then paused to smoke. You liked how he leaned against the counter. Like there was no cooler person in this room. “I don’t know… most women don’t like it here. Too filthy or whatever.”

You nodded and looked around. Everything smelled like ashtray and whiskey. There was dirt lying around. Nobody seemed to bother, so you chose not to either.

“And you are new in Birmingham?”, he asked: “All the locals know to stay away from this place.”

Again, you nodded and hid your smile behind your hand. “I just grabbed my bass and some clothes and left.”

“Bass?” Now, John was hooked. Since he could walk and talk, he had a thing for music. Especially rock and punk and he blabber about his favorite bands all day. Of course, he never learned to play an instrument, because his family was too poor, but he stole every record he could lay hands on. “You play bass?”

“Yeah, I can also play guitar, but I sold mine to get here. I started playing in a band now and I really hope this is going to work out… somehow.”, you explained

“Maybe.”, he said: “I can ask Harry, if you can play here. Live music would be great.”

You beamed and jumped almost over the counter. “Really?”

“But I need to listen to a song first. Otherwise, I can’t do it with good conscience.”

“Yeah, sure thing! When I get the promo tape, I’ll come back here.” Finally, some good news for you. After all you went though you really needed that and right now you just couldn’t stop smiling.

Three beers later, you were already in an in-depth discussion about music and which bands paved the way for punk.

After six more beers, you danced to the song he put on. John watched you with the purest joy. Nobody has ever danced in the Garrison. Good for him, that Tommy left, because “something important” occurred.

On beer twelve you sang for all the man to watch. The Shelby just could take his eyes off you, even when you didn’t hit the right tone.

He even caught you, when you fell over the counter.

But in the end the bar had to close and you still had nowhere to go, so you waited for him to finish his work. It took twice as long, because John kept staring at you in awe.

After everything was done, he asked, if he should walk you home and you agreed. Actually, you didn’t say yes, you hugged him and rubbed your cheek against his. Then you made a purring sound and told him your address.

You even hold hands with him, but that was mainly, because you were to drunk to walk straight. But you had plenty of time to sober up along the way.

Finally arriving at the front door, you had to stop laughing and catch a breath to manage to say something. “Do you…”, you began and paused, because you didn’t know how to phrase it.

Without hesitation he answered: “Yes! Yes… I mean, it would be cool.”

And again, you started laughing. “I was about to ask, if you want to watch the stars on my rooftop, but I didn’t know you were going to be so excited about this.”

He scratched his neck and chuckled. “Yeah, we were talking about the same thing.”

“Oh honey, I’m taken”, you explained

That last three words crumbled his hopes, that have been build up since you walked into the Garrison.

But he was a gentleman and he shouldn’t expect anything from a woman. After all, you don’t owe him anything. Even though he thought you were flirting with him the entire night.

He just bit his lip and shrugged. “No problem here.”

Then he added: “But we might not see the stars though all the smog and light pollution.”

“Let’s give it a try.” you opened the door and smiled.

You took the steps up to your apartment, John followed you closely. When the two of you entered the small flat, everything was still dark. The alarm clock next to your mattress said four in the morning.

John was so curious, when he looked around. “You really didn’t lie, when you said, you just took you bass and nothing more.”

“Yup”, you mumbled and walked to a pile of clothes. “Do you want to smoke one with me?”

When you pulled out the joint, John grinned at you. His cheeks were still red. “Why not?”

Climbing out of your window and onto the roof sounded way easier than it turned out to be.

But the view was great, and that was enough.

You lit the joint and inhaled the white smoke, just to blow it out again.

“No stars in sight, babe”, he noted while looking up

He was right, but you were still glad, that he came up here with you. You feared the moment of being alone again. “Yes, but the view… is amazing.”

You didn’t notice, he was glaring at you when he said: “Yeah, it really is.”

Then you turned to him to pass him the joint.

John took one drag and coughed. “That shit’s strong.”

At first you tried not to laugh, but ended up giggling anyway.

“What?”, he asked with blunt curiosity.

When you calmed down, you had to tell him the joke that just crossed your mind: “I like my weed like my sex… keeps me paralyzed for a while.”

That was the last thing he thought he would hear from you. He would believe his ears, if he hadn’t starred at your lips the entire time. “Uhm, okay.”, he whispered and hit the joint one more time.

The longer you sat there with him, the more comfortable you two got. After talking the whole night about music and artists and stuff, you finally opened up.

You told him why you left your home town and moved to Birmingham.

And he told you in return something you would have expected either. “Just a few more months and I’ll be in the military.”

John didn’t look like a soldier or somebody who took pride in defending his country. You couldn’t understand, how a wonderful guy like him ended up serving the forces. It just didn’t seem to fit in. But then again, you knew him for a few hours now, so who are you to judge?

“I’m scared”, he whispered: “that nobody but my family will write me… and I’m going to be all alone in the middle of nowhere.”

That feeling was all too familiar for you. Your heart ached, when you glared at him. “I write you.”, you promised. “And phone you and what else.”

“You would?” His voice was full of doubt. “We don’t know each other really.”

It was true, but you always kept your promises. You moved closer to him, to hold his hand and look him in the eyes. “I would. I know this feeling too well.”

For one second you thought he was going to kiss you, and you were ready. The drumroll played, like it always did, when the first touch of two pairs of lips, unknown to each other, was close. But the drumroll was all you were going to get tonight. You kept staring at his beautiful mouth and how would it feel, when his lips meet yours. Infidelity has never been your thing and you would stay true to yourself, even when the chance was so tempting.

“Can you hold me?”, you asked, while avoiding his eyes. You felt pathetic for being so needy in front of a stranger, so you added: “Just for a while.”

John didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Instead, he just pulled you in arms and stroke your back.

The two of you felt all alone in this broken world, but right there you met and became friends. What a weird thing to happen.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fucking blinders #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #female reader #peaky blinders modern au #joe cole

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kcmedinas · 2 years

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INTERVIEW TWO (ELECTRIC BOOGALOO) : TASK 05

it was different the last couple times he did this. when he interviewed for high volume years ago he’d already known jerry. the guy might’ve known kc better than his own parents did, even then. sure, jerry could’ve pulled a fast one on him, but he’d never given him reason to doubt his place at high volume. even the interview at joann’s was more the result of years of relationships built over fabric pulls, far more than it was about his work ethic at least.

new people don’t intimidate him. they never have. he’s spent a lifetime leaning on charm because it came easy. jennifer is a stranger, sure, but she’s also related to his roommate, to his former family-friend-turned-boss who he did care about. who he’s pretty sure cared about him, in that distant sort of way. it’s not about impressing her, but he’d like to give a warm high volume welcome to the chick that lost someone and saved their store. she’s owed that, at least until she proves different.

kendall rolls off her tongue, harmless, but it makes his nose crinkle all the same. ❛ kc. ❜ he corrects, his mom’s voice piping in the back of his head about interrupting and manners, but some things need stopping before they really start. she doesn’t seem to mind, recovering easily and correcting herself. nice. she seems nice.

can you tell me a little about yourself? where are you from, what’s your work history, what are your hobbies?

❛ i was born in costa rica, but i’m from woodstock. ❜ they don’t mean the same thing, where he happened to get popped out versus what built him. beach towns and rainy seasons, waves crashing in the morning, it’s all things he misses from time to time, but could he have ever really built something outside of high volume ? ❛ work history is … here ? it’s been, like, six years now, i didn’t do anything before then. i work at a fabric place a little outside of town, now, ‘cause i split rent and groceries with jamie ‘n we all kinda thought this place was done-zo — i have a lot of hobbies. i paint, i play music, i garden — kinda. we don’t have that much space. sometimes i cook, i got back into sewing pretty big lately ‘cause i get a discount now. i dunno. i get bored and i do stuff. ❜

in a typical work environment, what are your strengths/weaknesses?

❛ people like me. ❜ he shrugs, feeling sure there isn’t a hint of misplaced confidence. he’s not a liar, he has no business bringing up anything like timeliness or discipline or dedication. a lot’s changed for high volume, but he’s under no impression he’s changed enough to give her that sort of false hope. there’s a beyond good chance if he comes back it’ll be twenty minutes late, right off the bat - but people, he can do. he spent most of his shifts placed carefully behind the register, or meandering around the store while customers filtered in and out. ❛ i’m not bragging, but it matters when we see ‘em all day. especially here, ‘cause it’s not like … walmart or anything, you wanna shop from someone you like talking to, and everyone likes talking to me. i guess i’m not good at the numbers, or any of the technical stuff. ❜

can you tell me a little more about what happened when jerry was missing? what was the store like? did your role change?

a time when jerry was around feels so far away. it hasn’t been that long, he knows, but it feels like years since it wasn’t just them keeping things afloat. ❛ it was … fine ? not saying it didn’t matter that he was gone, but there’s a reason we were good at stepping up. not everyone around here likes each other, but we all know each other. we didn’t argue ‘cause someone might’ve shorted a paycheck while the boss was away or anything. we just did what we could. ❜

can you describe a time that you had a disagreement with a fellow volume employee while working here? how did you handle it?

he blinks. once. twice. looks up at the ceiling in thought. ❛ no ? i’ve never disagreed with anyone here on anything besides, like, how good a movie was. that’s not really something you handle. ❜

what type of management style would you like to see from me? how i can help you do your job best?

❛ that’s a nice question. ❜ not one he really has an answer to, but it’s nice. it doesn’t help that this whole thing’s now veering into the outer edges of his ability to sit still. his foot taps, not intentional and not quite impatient, but antsy. tap tap tap tap. he’s going to go and get a milkshake after this, to reward himself for getting through it. not the questions, those he doesn’t mind, but this part. the waiting. it hasn’t even gone on that long, he’s just getting bored. ❛ i get bored easily, ❜ he states, catches the flicker of confusion across her face. ❛ that’s a weakness. i just thought about it, but i don’t know about the other thing. we’ve only ever had jerry here, but i’d tell you if you were making my job worse. ❜

what was it about the way jerry ran things that made this place great?

he hums under breath, leg bouncing. what was it that jerry did that made high volume so special ?

it was special back when he was in high school, running from god knows what like a little hamster stuck back in it’s cage. he’d seen the world, known how big it was and chosen to return to his little rectangle of space. objectively, the place was nothing special. he has an artist’s eye, and it was no picasso stuck in the middle of nowhere. it was more like something messy stuck on a fridge, valuable for entirely different reasons.

❛ i don’t think it was about how he ran things. he was flaky, super easygoing, usually we knew where stuff was more than he did, but he loved this place. he kept it honest, like — do you get what i mean ? you go to the city and walk into some store and it’s all kinda fake. everyone needs stuff but no one wants to be there, but you wanna be here, don’t you ? i mean — you came, and you stayed. when you live in a little place like this, you can’t really wait around for something to knock your socks off. you need somewhere you can dance on a tuesday, and someone’s dancing here all the time.

— anyway, jerry did that. he cared for it and then he hired people who cared about it enough to do dumb shit just to keep it going. that’s what makes it great. there’s no right management style or anything, but i think if you find a way to love the place half as much as i do, you’ll be alright. ❜ he’s smiling, not unusual, struck by the realization that it would’ve been something awful to see this place go. he’s kept it tucked into the corner of his head with all other possibilities of things going wrong, too distant to feel the looming harm, close enough to access when he can just be grateful it turned out okay.

he snaps fingers suddenly, lightbulb flickering overhead. it’s a sudden movement, sitting up straight. ❛ oh, hey ! i can still wear my piercings, right ? they make me flip my septum up at joann’s, but it always feels like i’ve got dust in my nose. ❜

#volumetask #꒰ talk too much . ˗ˏ ☀️ : tasks ˎ˗#oh how long this came out #smh #also u may ask urself is mace getting lazier with her graphics and formatting?#and the answer is of course #yes <3

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we-love-imagines · 3 years

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Order Up

Valentine’s Event: Day 3

Prompt: Mista + Restaurant

Ao3 Link

Author’s Note: This one is still a Gender Neutral Reader, but I do use the term ‘waitress’ in reference to you. God, I love Mista. My friend, who I recently got into Jojo, just finished part 5, and I was reminded how much I love this goofball while watching it with her. Anyways, on with the show!

Something was up with Mista. The gang all noticed how he held himself differently, put more effort into his appearance, and they really noticed how much better he smelled. At first, Bruno and Abbachio would give each other confused glances when they saw his back straighten up when they entered Libeccio’s, or how he’d abruptly excuse himself from the table, red in the face, but the truth quickly became clear to them.

Whenever you would come by to take their order, Mista would freeze up and stumble over his words; the usually jokey, confident gunslinger reduced to a flustered mess at your presence.

The older mafiosos thought it was kind of cute- he’d struggle to meet your eyes, but stare at you as you’d walk away. He was like a little lovesick puppy, hanging on your every word as if it were gospel. It was subtle enough that Fugo and Narancia didn’t catch on at first, but once they did, they teased him relentlessly.

“Mista,” Narancia nudged his friend with a sing-song voice as they approached their regular restaurant, “You think that cute waitress is gonna be working today?”

“Of course they are,” Fugo smirked, a rare show of his fun side, “-Take a whiff, he showered today!”

“Is that cologne?” Abbachio added from behind. Bruno just snickered to himself, unable to hide the little smile on his face. The whole situation was too entertaining to him.

“Damn, Mista’s got it bad!” Narancia chuckled, watching as Mista’s face went beet-red. He knew there was no use in hiding his crush from his teammates, they could all read him like a book. That was the curse of being in life-or-death situations with these men a few too many times over- they knew Mista and his little cues all too well. All the man could do was sit and take it, much to his displeasure.

“Okay, Okay,” Bruno interjected, making his way to the front of the group, “Knock it off, we’re here. Play nice with Mista, or else he might blow a gasket.”

Shuffling inside, the group made their way to their usual table in the back room where they conducted business. Some of the workers at Libeccio’s were a little afraid of them, off-put by the mafia conducting business in their place of work, but most of them were fine with it. It guaranteed their protection under Passione, and they didn’t come off as all that violent. Hell, Bruno had developed a reputation as one of their kindest, most patient customers, always leaving nice tips and keeping his rowdier guests in line. All the staff had to do was turn the other cheek when something shady was going on in their backroom; on Passione’s turf, that was the best way to save your skin.

Despite their good reputation, Bruno noticed how some of the newer employees seemed nervous when taking their order or bringing them to their table. So, a lot of the older staff dealt with them, the group having a few usual servers when they’d come to visit. However, it came as a surprise when you worked your way into that rotation. Seeing as you were brand new, it must have taken a lot of guts for you to deal with the mafiosos. You came off as confident, the new little waitress waltzing up to their table with no fear in your eyes. Is that what Mista saw in you?

Taking their seats, the group made casual conversation as they looked over the menu. They had eaten here numerous times before, so they already had an idea of what they all wanted- but hey, what’s the harm in branching out from time to time?

Suddenly, Mista’s back straightened to the telltale click-clack of your shoes entering the room, amused smirks painting the other men’s faces as you came in.

“Hello everyone,” you smiled, “How are you all doing today?”

“We’re all doing well, thank you,” Bruno replied, shooting a sly glance Narancia’s way to quiet his incessant giggling. The boy quickly quieted down when he felt his leader kick him under the table.

“Good! What will we be having today?”

Every man gave their order, Mista averting his eyes as he did so. You were just too damn pretty, and he knew he’d stammer over his words if he looked you in the eye.

You weren’t an idiot, noticing the man’s flustered expressions and how you caught his fleeting glances from time to time. Seeing as you were one of the group’s few servers, you got to overhear a few of their conversations from time to time. Mista- Guido, you think his first name was- was a funny guy, and his little offhand comments and weird conversation topics made you crack a smile and giggle to yourself on multiple occasions. Not to mention he was super cute, and the generous view of his abs gave you some nice eye-candy during a long shift.

Some of the other staff would tease you about it, noticing your insistence to always ‘handle’ the mafioso’s table. You shoved it off, telling them that they were seeing things, but you could never ignore the blush that dusted your cheeks after those conversations. God, did you really have a crush on a mafia man? A handsome, funny, nice mafia man?

“Would you like the usual strawberry cake with that, Mr. Bucciarati?” you asked, finishing up their order. The man simply nodded, thanking you as you dismissed yourself. As you went away, however, you looked over your shoulder to see a certain sweater-clad mafioso staring at you. Locking eyes for just a moment, you both quickly turned away, tiny smiles on both of your faces.

You returned a little while after, wheeling their food in on a little cart. After serving each of the men their own individual plates, you present the cake to them, in all of it’s frosting-covered glory.

“I sliced it into ten pieces, just how you like it,” you whispered to Mista before you excused yourself. The others looked at him, a little puzzled, as his face turned pink.

“What was that about?” Narancia playfully asked, “You two keeping secrets?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Mista smiled back, seeing you leave the room from the corner of his eye. What he didn’t see was how you stilled behind the room’s entrance, trying to listen in on what he’d say about you.

“Remember that one conversation we had, ‘bout two weeks ago? About the number four?”

They all nodded, knowing most conversations with Mista led to his disdain of the number.

“Well, they used to cut the cake into nine slices. After we’d each have one, there would be four left. I dunno if they overheard me or something, but they cut it into ten pieces now, so there will never be four.”

“Are you sure it’s not a new policy or something? It sounds like extra work to cut a circle into nine pieces.” Fugo interjected, adding a dose of reality to the situation. Mista grinned as he shook his head.

“No- it only happens when they’re our server. They slice it themself.”

“Wow,” Bruno couldn’t help but laugh, letting his softer side through once again, “That waitress sounds perfect for you, Mista. No wonder you get so red when they come by.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. I don’t have the balls to ask them out anyways,” Mista shrugged, starting to nibble at his food, “Have you seen ‘em? They’re way outta my league.”

Your heart swelled at the comment, blushing furiously as you finally went back to your job. Did that hot guy really think you were out of his league? Did he really find you so attractive that he couldn’t even look at you? As your mind raced with thoughts, you found yourself making a few more mistakes than usual- confusing tables, refilling cups with the wrong beverage, and many more tiny slip-ups. While your manager would chastise you for these mistakes later, you couldn’t help it- you were so flattered by the young man’s words.

After finishing their meal and conducting their business, Bruno waved you over for the bill. You quickly went about adding up their total, printing out a receipt before going to collect Bruno’s money.

However, as you found yourself walking back over to their table, a wave of bravery washed over you. Taking the pen in your apron pocket, you scribbled down a little note on the receipt, taking a deep breath before entering their back room. To Bruno’s surprise, you put the bill in front of Mista, giving him a little wink before you left.

Curiously, the gunslinger read the receipt. His face lit up when he discovered the message was for him- your phone number.

“Call me sometime, Mista!” you wrote under it, “Xoxo -(Y/n)”

Since he wasn’t going to ask you out, you decided to do so yourself.

#jjba #jjba x reader #mista x reader #guido mista x reader #jjba mista #mista #guido mista #jojos bizarre adventure #JoJo no Kimyō na Bōken #Valentines Day event

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sylvanfreckles · 3 years

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Imprisoned (FebuWhump 03)

You can also find this on AO3

Fandom: The Witcher Summary: Jaskier finds himself at the mercy of a malicious innkeeper...luckily Geralt isn’t too far behind him.

* * *

Jaskier stared in disbelief as the innkeeper dropped the coins back on the counter. “No good.”

“No good?” the bard repeated. “You've got to be kidding me It was fine a few days ago.”

“Crown's no good here,” the innkeeper repeated. He leaned onto the bar, the muscles in his shoulders bulging from the change in position. “This is Kaedwen.”

“Ah—yes, yes, I know that,” Jaskier held a finger up. “But it only take three of your ducats to equal one Redanian crown, everyone knows that. You said it was five ducats per night, so you can take two crowns and keep the extra to cover the difficulty of changing currency.”

The innkeeper snorted. “Ye already owe me for three days, bard.”

Jaskier spluttered. “Three days? I paid in advance!”

“You didn't.”

“I did! It's right there in your ledger book,” he snapped. He snatched up the book from the end of the counter “I paid you five crowns, which is equal to fifteen ducats, so I'm all paid up for...three....”

His voice trailed off. He'd opened the ledger book where the tattered ribbon marked the latest page, fully intent on exposing the innkeeper's scheme, but his familiar signature wasn't there. The pages were filled with the innkeeper's sloppy scrawl and the marks of his guests, but Jaskier's name was nowhere to be seen. In fact, an entire page had been torn out, leaving nothing but a ragged edge behind.

“Yer not in the book,” the innkeeper sneered.

Jaskier closed the ledger and placed it on the counter, then rested both hands on the scarred leather. There had to be a way out of this. Geralt was supposed to meet him here yesterday, but obviously the Witcher had gotten caught up in his own business along the way. Jaskier should have had enough money to wait for his friend, even without supplementing his purse by performing to the inn's other customers (he'd been barred from playing here, for some reason, or he'd have plenty of the blasted ducats to pay for his stay).

“Well,” he hedged, “perhaps one of the merchants in town would be willing to exchange my coin. Give me five minutes, and I'll be back with enough for the last three nights and a half dozen more.” Or, rather, he'd slip out of town and wait in the wilds for Geralt's arrival. Surely, surely the Witcher would be happy to lend his aid...this time it wasn't even Jaskier's fault!

He backed away from the counter, only to hit a solid mass behind him. For one, fleeting moment he thought Geralt had turned up in the nick of time...but rough hands seized him by the arms and slammed him forward onto the counter.

“Yer not goin' anywhere 'til you pay yer tab,” the inkeeper snarled. He twisted one meaty hand in Jaskier's hair and twisted his face up.

“I have money,” Jaskier protested weakly. He was down to eight crowns, including the two still on the counter, plus a handful of coppers but that was more than enough to cover his tab.

The innkeeper jerked his head to one side and rough hands hauled Jaskier away from the counter and onto his feet. He was spun around to face his captor, and caught a brief glimpse of a scarred face before a fierce backhand sent him crashing to the ground. He tried to push himself up but a kick from a hobnailed boot caught him under the ribs. Jaskier curled around himself, coughing and groaning, and then the boot was descending again and again.

His ribs, his shoulder, his back...his bones creaked and his skin bruised and tore under the assault. He didn't know if he should cover his head with his arms to protect his face or keep his hands tucked up to his chest to save his delicate fingers.

Breathless from pain, Jaskier could do little more than whimper when a hand caught him by the collar and picked him up enough for the scarred man to leer into his face. “'E's kind of small,” the scarred man called over to the innkeeper.

The innkeeper was already beside them, stripping Jaskier of his coin pouch and any other valuables on his person. “Don't worry. The salt mines are always in need of a new canary,” the innkeeper retorted. “Take 'im to the cellar. Pascar'll be by in a day or so, he always pays for fresh blood.”

With a grunt, the scarred man hauled Jaskier up to his feet. The bard stumbled against the rough treatment, though an oath from his captor and a blow to his kidney had him trying to stay upright. “Please...” he tried again. The words wouldn't quite come—please don't do this, I have friends coming for me, we can pay whatever you want.

“Stuff it, songbird,” the scarred man growled. They reached the door to the cellar and stopped just long enough for the bigger man to thrust it open and shove Jaskier down the wooden stairs.

For a moment, Jaskier considered turning on his captor. He was no match for the man, obviously, but something inside him quailed at giving up without a fight.

The moment was gone far too soon, however, as the scarred man followed on the bard's heels and struck him down again. Jaskier tried to roll away—he was smaller, he might be faster, if he could reach the door—but a rough boot slammed down on his hip and ground him into the dirt of the cellar floor.

“Now you just stay down here, nice and quiet,” the scarred man said. He pinned Jaskier's hands together in one meaty palm while he fumbled for a piece of rough cording that was tangled in the slats of an old crate. “Haskins'll take it outta my cut if I have to beat you black and blue and Pascar only pays half for ya.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to reply, but slammed it shut again and nearly bit through his tongue as he fought back a scream when the scarred man twisted the rope viciously around his wrists. Then the man was climbing to his feet and—oh gods—hauling Jaskier across the cellar floor by his wrists. The rope cut into his skin cruelly, and the movement jostled the injuries he'd already endured.

“Here we are,” the scarred man announced. He looped the rope over the top of a sturdy rack that help ale casks and heaved on it. Jaskier whimpered as he was pulled up by his arms until he was sitting against the rack. Then the big man looped the rope around Jaskier's arms and wrists to bind him to the rack so that he was unable to stand, or even shift position without threatening to dislocate something.

Terror and pain were knotting up his voice in his throat, and the scarred man was crouching in front of him again. “Open,” the scarred man said, holding up a filthy rag he'd found on the cask rack. He siezed Jaskier's face with one hand and planted a fist in his stomach with the other. Jaskier gasped and choked in pain, and then the rag was shoved into his mouth so roughly he felt it hit the back of his throat.

“We'll be back in a day or so,” the scarred man said, pushing himself up to his feet. “You...you sit tight.”

* * *

Geralt knocked the dust from his boots as he entered the run-down inn. If he had known the place was in this bad shape he'd've arranged to meet Jaskier somewhere else.

“Good day to ye!” the innkeeper called from behind the counter. “If yer wantin' a room it's three ducats a night—'course if yer paying in Redanian crowns it'll be two crowns, on account of me needing to change 'em out down the road.”

“I'm looking for someone,” Geralt replied, cutting through the innkeeper's bluster. “Has a bard come through here?”

The innkeeper reddened. “Ah, n-no, no bards.” He fidgeted with a dirty rag in his hands and wiped in ineffectually across the scarred wood. “The baron outlawed 'em, y'see. One of 'em wrote a nasty little song about him a few years back, and now he can't stand the sight of 'em.”

Geralt stared at the man, then turned to study the room. He'd been due in this shithole two days ago, but a fight with a werewolf had left him laid up in a decrepit old barn half a day's ride from here. Jaskier wouldn't have left without him, not after two days. “Did anyone leave a message for me?”

The other man was staring at him now, as though the white hair and yellow eyes were finally sinking in. “Say...ain't you...”

With a grunt of annoyance Geralt twisted one hand in the innkeeper's collar and hauled him up onto the counter until they were eye-to-eye. “I'm meeting a friend here. Have you seen him?”

The man's face twitched and his eyes flickered to the side for a moment. “A...a friend?”

Geralt followed the man's gaze. A scarred man who had been lounging at the back of the inn's great room suddenly straightened to his feet, moving as though to intercept Geralt's path to the door to the wine cellar on the other side of the bar.

He didn't stand a chance.

Perhaps men like him were enough to waylay helpless travelers, but no one laid a hand on a Witcher and lived to tell the tale.

The inn's cellar was dim, but Geralt's eyes had no problem adjusting to the gloom. Even if his vision hadn't been good enough to see the drag marks in the floor, the room wasn't quite big enough to hide the body slumped against the rack of ale casks in the back corner.

“Jaskier,” Geralt breathed. He knelt at his friend's side, fury and concern twisting up in his stomach. The bard's face was pale beneath the dirt and bruises, his eyes closed in a fitful sleep. Geralt rested one palm against the bard's cheek and gently tugged at the rough gag that had been stuffed into his friend's mouth.

Jaskier came awake with a start, flinching away from the figure that knelt over him. “It's me, Jaskier,” Geralt said. He finally pulled the gag free and held his friend's gaze for a long few seconds, long enough for the disoriented panic in Jaskier's eyes to melt into relief.

“Geralt,” Jaskier wheezed. “Thank the gods.” His voice was rough and cracked. Given the state of his clothes it was apparent he'd been down here for more than a day, though Geralt would know more once his friend was safe and he could interrogate that thrice-damned innkeeper.

“I've got you,” he said as he tugged a knife out of his boot. The ropes binding Jaskier to the rack were cut through in an instant, and the bard toppled forward with a whimper of pain. Geralt braced him against his own shoulder, hoping his familiar presence would help Jaskier shake away the lingering fear of this place. “Are you hurt?”

“I can travel,” Jaskier replied quickly. Too quickly.

Geralt frowned at him. There was blood on Jaskier's doublet, and when he gently pushed the fabric away he hissed out a breath at the sight of torn and bruised flesh beneath. “Jaskier.”

“Please?” Jaskier grasped his wrist, his pale hands trembling. “I don't want to stay here.”

The Witcher heaved a sigh. “There's a barn about half a day's ride from here.”

“Anything is better than this place.”

“Right.” Geralt pushed himself back up to his feet, then bent down enough to sling one of Jaskier's arms around his neck. “Let's go get your money back first.”

* * *

You know, sometimes you just have one of those days and you need to whump the bard. You know what I mean?

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday3 #imprisoned #the witcher #fic #fanfic #jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier whump #protective geralt

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the-starless-sky · 4 years

Text

The Cat’s Whiskers x Akan Yatsura / “JUSTICE” voice drama part 2

Exams ended...!! Hello I am alive...!! And very (not) ready for “PRIDE”...!! T_T

“JUSTICE” Part 2

Yohei: So, you bastards… under whose orders did you come here?

Mobs: We’re not working under anyone! That kinda thing doesn’t matter, just cough up the cash, fuckin’ bastads!!

Iori: Tch… so they’re just punks.

Oi, we’ll let you off today, so get out.

Mobs: Don’t look down on us! If ya don’t give us the cash, y’all gonna get hurt!

Yohei: You’re letting them go? You really have that soft spot on you.

Iori: There’s no helping it. No matter what you do, guys like these won’t even get you 1 yen.

Mobs: Makin’ a fool out of us...! You shitheads! Urrah!!

(Mob punched Iori)

Yohei: You bastard... what the fuck did you just...?

Iori: Leave it, danna. I’m fine.

Yohei: Don’t think you can leave unscathed after laying your hands on Iori...!

Mobs: Bring it on, get me!!

(Yohei and the mobs fight)

(The mobs fall down and cough in pain)

Iori: Danna. That’s too much.

Yohei: Huh? Oh. Sorry.

Iori: Well, then...

(Iori forcibly pulled one of the mobs up)

Mobs: Ahh... ah!

Iori: You bastards. Learnt something, didn’t you?

If you pick a fight with real yakuza like us, you ain’t getting away just like this. Understand?

This time, we’ll let you off like this. Be grateful, won’t you?

Mobs: Y-yes... we’re very sorry...

Iori: Haha. Even so, danna. You really overdid it.

It’s gonna take lots of time to clean this up.

Yohei: Sigh. Small fries making us waste so much time.

Jeez, what a pain.

Saimon: He-eh, you were very rough, weren’t you, Yohei.

Yohei: Well, ‘cause that time I didn’t have any brains but physical strength.

Zen: If it’s physical strength, then I, too...!

Cough. Then, where does the maneki-neko comes in?

Iori: Wahahaha! Oh yeah, right.

Then, a few days after that uproar, we got called to Boss’s office.

We went in high spirits, thinkin’ we’re gon’ get a reward or something, but...

Yohei: Jeez, that damn boss messing around like that...

What the hell’s with giving us this maneki-neko!?

Iori: Hahaha, our guess were wrong, huh.

Yohei: We protected the shop’s name and loaded customers, so he could’ve given us something more... you know!?

Iori: Well, it’s probably simply because he didn’t have anything prepared. After all, those guys suddenly came to our face by themselves and then left just like that. Seriously, it feels like we were wheedled out of it cleanly.

Yohei : Well, when he just up and smiled like that, as he said, ‘I have high expectations for you’, there’s really nothing else we could say.

Iori: Right.

Well, we’ll answer his expectations, quickly get lots of money, and make the boss, us, and the Suiseki group, everyone all merry.

Yohei: Haha, yeah. Let’s do it. I’m counting on you, maneki-neko.

Iori: Ya shoulda said ‘partner’ right there, like, ‘I’m counting on you, Iori’!

Yohei: Oi, oi, you’re talking like Boss now.

Iori: Haha. How was it? I look like Boss when I talk like that, don’t I?

Yohei: No way. Stupid.

Iori: Haha.

Yohei: Hahaha.

Saimon: So that kind of thing happened, huh, Yohei? I didn’t know at all.

Zen: To think that that maneki-neko was a gift from the Boss...

Iori: How’s it!? A real good story, ain’t it?

Zen: Yes. A lot of things happened in the past, wasn’t it.

Iori: Well, that’s ‘cause we’ve been workin’ together for almost all the time.

Yohei: It was a story from really long ago, though.

Iori: Come of think of it, at that time there were those Alter Trigger Company guys too, weren’t there?

Yohei: Hah. What unpleasant connection, seriously.

Iori: Seriously an unpleasant connection, it is.

Yohei: Hm?

Iori: Danna, ya also heard of it recently, right? The Alter Trigger Company name.

Saimon: Why do you guys... that...?

Iori: Hahahaha! If ya work in this industry, ya gon’ hear lotsa stuff.

Yohei: And? How much do you know?

Iori: Nah, I dunno the details, but I only know that this bar’s ‘bout to be bought... and who’s gonna buy it.

Yohei: As expected, news travels fast to you.

Yeah. To protect this place, we have to get the one billion.

But this and that have no――...!

Iori: And that’s the deal. So, y’know anything about Paradox Live and Alter Trigger, danna?

Saimon: What are you trying to say?

Iori: The sudden buy-out uproar and the opening of Paradox Live. Plus, the winning prize is exactly the amount of money that y’all needed, one billion yen. Don’tcha think it’s too good a scenario for mere coincidence?

Saimon: In short, Alter Trigger Company is connected to all of it... is what you’re trying to say, is it?

Iori: Who knows?

Saimon: But... No, don’t tell me... that kind of thing is...

Yohei: We’re... being manipulated?

Iori: ‘Sup with that... seein’ that reaction, y’all don’t seem to have any info.

Saimon: ...

Iori: Seems like it’s a fruitless effort on our part. Well, let’s just say I told y’all ‘cause of our old friendly relations.

There’s somethin’ ‘bout this competition. Do your best to be careful.

Yohei: Oi, what the hell’s up about this event!?

Saimon: Anything is fine―please tell us whatever you-

(Bar door opens, and the bell rings)

Ryuu: We’re hooome!

Reo: Big Bro, we’re back!

Yohei: Sigh... seems that the adults’ time ended.

Hokusai: Hey... you said you guys keep cats... where are they?

Shiki: Oh... sorry, we made it so they can’t come into the shop. Right now, they’re probably asleep upstairs...

Hokusai: Even though I brought lots of setarias... [1]

Reo: Don’t be that dejected, Hokusai. Instead, seems like Satsuki will play with that!

Hokusai: Satsuki... really?

Satsuki: Ha? Who the hell wants to play with some wild grass?

Oi, Hokusai, stop looking at me with eyes full of expectations!

Reo: Can’t help it! Then, guess the demon king will do! Heere, come here~!

Ryuu: There’s no way Ryuu will wag his tail to such a grass...

Woof, woof~ Let’s play, let’s play!

Hokusai: Ryuu. Paw.

Ryuu: Woof!

Hokusai: The other paw.

Ryuu: Woof!

Satsuki: No, I told you it’s a setaria! The fuck’s with ‘woof’!?

Hokusai: Ah.

Shiki: U-um, inside of the shop, please don’t...!

Saimon: Haha, it’s alright, Shiki. We’re already closed, after all.

Zen: We’re very sorry that our kids...

Yohei: I feel like I kinda understand your feelings...

Satsuki: Thanks for the food, Big Bro! Raimen-tei’s ramen’s the best today, too! And the change...

Iori: S’kay, just take it, Satsuki.

Satsuki: Seriously!? Is it really ok!?

Iori: Let’s say it’s a tip for printing that one time. ‘Kay? [2]

Reo: Ah, what? Only Satsuki!? That’s unfair! Me too, me too!

Satsuki: Haah!? You didn’t even do anything!

Reo: Haah!? What are you saying? A cute kid like me has a value by just being there. Unlike Satsuki! Right, Shiki?

Satsuki: HAA!?

Shiki: H-hey, let’s not fight...

Satsuki: You ugly! Shiki, back off!!

Shiki: A-ah.... you’re so mean, Satsuki-kun...

Zen: Aah, they’re at it again. I’m sorry.

Oi!! What the hell are you guys on about!!?

(In the background.)

Reo: You’re frustrated, aren’t you~? For not being popular!

Satsuki: Oi!!!

Zen: How many times is it already!?

Saimon: They seem like they’re always fighting.

Iori: Haha. They’re what you call somethin’ like ‘the closer you are...’! [3]

Ryuu: By the way, what were boss and the others talking about?

Saimon: Hm? Oh, just small talks.

Ryuu: Reeeally? Hmmm? Ah, I know!

You guys were talking about the people standing behind everyone... right!?

Saimon: ...!? Ryuu...!?

Reo: What is it, what is it? Talking about ghosts?

Ryuu: No~ It’s a-dults’-ta-lk!

Iori: Oi. Whaddaya mean? Ya know somethin’?

Ryuu: Know? About what? The ingredients of konnyaku?

Iori: Sonny, don’t be boring and say sloppy things.

Ryuu: To pack... [4] like, packing chikuwa and cucumber?

Saimon: I’m sorry. Could you please not press this child with questions?

Iori: O-oh... yeah, ya right. Sorry, sorry.

This sonny... he knows somethin’?

Ryuu: Hee-eey, if ghosts do appear what do we do~?

Satsuki: Hey, Shiki, is this guy always like this? Even in the ramen shop he just keeps blabbering on whatever comes up on his mind.

Ryuu: Shiki’s arm is really white and boney, huh!? Calcium!!

(Ryuu bites Shiki’s arm.)

Shiki: I-it hurts! Ryuu-kun, stop biting me!

Ryuu: Munch, munch...

Reo: Seriously, how could you live together with that? Ain’t it crazy?

Shiki: No, I’m already used to it...

Ryuu: Woof, munch, munch!

Satsuki: Nothing is scarier than routine...!

Shiki: But, he also has a really kind side to him...

Yohei: Oi, until when are you gonna bite Shiki’s arm!?

Ryuu: Oooouch! Master’s bullying me! I’m against violence!

Hokusai: Shiki, are you okay? It hurts, didn’t it? Good boy...

Shiki: Thank you...

Saimon: Sigh...

Shiki: Owner...?

(in the background.)

Reo: Come here, good boy, good boy.

Ryuu: Woof, woof!

Reo: Here, here, here, and there!

Ryuu: Woof, woof, woof!

Shiki: Um, are you okay...?

Saimon: Hm? Why?

Shiki: It kind of looked liek you were spacing out... I wondered if you were tired...

Saimon: Ah... I was just thinking. Thank you for worrying, Shiki. You’re a kind child.

Shiki: N-not at all.

(Iori clapped his hands twice.)

Iori: Well then, it’s already late. Let’s call it a night.

Reo: Yeeees~!

Zen: Even though we said we’ll only have a glass, in the end we stayed for a long time.

Saimon: It’s alright. Come again whenever you want.

Hokusai: It’d be nice if I can meet the kitties next time...

Yohei: Yeah, you can even bring them home if you want.

Hokusai: Really...!?

Reo: No, no. We already have Mr. Monkey in our house, right? By the name of Satsuki!

Hokusai: I see...

Satsuki: Oi, oi, oi, Hokusai! The hell do you mean by ‘I see’!?

Ryuu: Bye-bye, thank you, come again!

Shiki: We’ll be waiting for your next visit.

Zen: Yeah, thanks for the food!

Iori: Hey, brats! Wontcha get outta here fast!?

Reo: See ya~!

Hokusai: Hehe...

Satsuki: Let’s come again!

Iori: Danna. I’m different from when I’m still chasing after you.

Now, these guys’re my family.

So, to protect ‘em too, I can’t lose on stage.

I ain’t gon’ give ya mercy even though we’re old comrades.

Yohei: Heh. Bring it on.

‘Cause we also can’t lose.

No way i’d lose the bar and my comrades.

Iori: Well then, the next time we meet’s on the stage!

Yohei: Yeah. Just you wait.

(Iori walks out of the bar.)

Yohei: Oi, you’re Gazen, aren’t you?

Zen: Yes?

Yohei: Him... Iori, look after him carefully, wont you? I’m counting on you.

Zen: Yes. You don’t even have to tell me that.

Yohei: Heh. I see.

(Zen walks out of the bar.)

Yohei: Well then, now you all go and clean up! Move quickly!

Shiki: A-ah, yes!

Ryuu: Eeeeh?

Saimon: You too, Yohei.

Yohei: Yes, yes, understood, Owner-sama.

Then, Shiki, you clean. Ryuu, get the dustpan.

Shiki: Yes!

Ryuu: Understood!

Notes

[1] Neko-jarashi, setaria or foxtail, the grass you play with cats with.

[2] I'm actually not sure this is his exact words, but anyways it's a tip for doing some kind of chore.

[3] As in, 'you're so close you fight'or 'the closer you are the more you fight with each other'.

[4] Tsumaranai means boring, but it’s also the negative form of tsumaru (to pack).

#paradox live #drama cd translation #translation #the cat's whiskers #akan yatsura

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spiteweaver · 3 years

Photo

first encounter | previous | next

(Note: this story takes place in April of 2020!)

“About time you showed your ugly mug ‘round here again!”

Monroe fell into the chair opposite Delucius with a heavy sigh, his hat tipping down to hide his face from view. Castor thought he looked a little worse for wear, but decided it may be best to hold his tongue. Not wishing to turn their reunion into an impromptu bar brawl, he instead drank deeply from his mug.

“Good t’see ye in one piece,” he mumbled by way of greeting.

“Likewise,” Monroe responded gruffly, and flicked the brim of his hat up to glare at Delucius. “Now what’s this nancy doin’ at my waterin’ hole?”

Delucius feigned offense with a hand over his heart. “I heard you were back in town,” he replied, “so I made sure I would be as well. It’s been eons since we were all together like this. C’mon, cowboy, lighten up; drinks are on me.”

“Get fucked.”

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

Monroe looked to Castor, who gave a helpless shrug. “Fuck ‘im yerself,” he said, “coward.”

Delucius’ grin widened until even Monroe, ornery as he was, couldn’t help an amused snort. The smarmy little git was right; it had been too long since the three of them had sat ‘round the table and had a proper chat. So, kicking back in his chair, Monroe lit up one of his noxious hand-rolled cigarillos.

“When’d ya get back, Cas?” he asked.

“Few weeks ago,” Castor replied. “I figured I’d just missed ye, but Delucius told me ye’ve been abroad since the clan woke.”

“Eeeeyup.”

“Well?” Delucius leaned forward, his eyes shining with mischief. “What’s the word? You’ve gotta have something juicy for me after a trip like that; preferably something Sinclair’ll pay top dollar for.”

Monroe scrambled to appear presentable as a glass of whiskey came down in front of him. “Welcome back, stranger,” Sitri cooed, and pressed a kiss to the Fae’s cheek before bustling off to see to his other customers. Delucius and Castor exchanged a knowing glance.

“Damn,” Monroe said dazedly, “he’s one helluva drake.”

“Ye’ll never get anythin' out of 'im now, Delucius.”

Delucius slammed his hand on the table. “Stop staring at Sitri’s ass and spill it!”

“I’ll stare at whoever’s ass I damn well please.” That being said, Monroe reluctantly returned his attention to his tablemates, and settled for sneaking glances at Sitri between sentences. “I’ve got yer juice all right,” he said, “but I ‘dunno if ya’ve earned it, pal.”

“I said drinks are on me, didn’t I?” Delucius countered.

“A single round’a drinks ain’t enough to get’cha so much as a hint,” Monroe retorted. Taking a particularly lengthy drag off of his cigarillo, the Fae leaned in to meet Delucius and blew a cloud of soupy smoke in his face. “Yer ten cycles too green fer this scoop, so take yer ‘generosity’ elsewhere. This’s fer Dreamweaver’s ears only, unless you can come up with an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Drinks and my ass aren’t good enough?!” Delucius cried through a fit of hacking coughs.

“Drinks ‘n Sitri’s arse maybe,” Castor muttered into his ale.

Before Monroe could think of a suitably witty comeback, the door to the tavern swung inward, and a pair of strangers sauntered up to the bar. With their arrival, all thoughts of lighthearted banter leaked out of Delucius’ brain like egg yolk. He clamped his mouth shut, so tight that his teeth ached, and did what he always did when he was scared dead to rights: tried to disappear in plain sight.

Now this, Monroe thought, might be worth more than a hint.

“What’s got ya pissin’ yerself, pardner?” he asked, examining the newcomers from beneath the wide shadow of his brim. “A couple’a yuppies like them ought not t’ bother ya none. I’ve seen ya go toe-to-toe with drinks scarier’n them two.”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Delucius hissed.

“Talk t’ me like that again,” Monroe warned, “and I’ll invite ‘em over fer a round—on you, a’course.”

“Not more immigrants, eh?” Castor said. “Had our fair share of ‘em in recent months.”

“No,” Delucius replied, “no, I don’t think they’re immigrants, Cas.”

“Back again, Miss Cymbeline?” Sitri asked one of the newcomers, a pretty dam with hair the color of sea fog and eyes shrouded by cloth. “You ought to give Phoebus a break now and again, you know? If he spends too long hanging 'round with this lot, he might just—” Sitri gasped— “have fun!”

The dam laughed demurely behind a raised hand, much to her companion's displeasure. He shot her a look, but kept any harsh words he may have had for her to himself.

“Tavern Master,” the drake, presumably named Phoebus, began.

“Haven't I told you to call me Sitri?” Sitri cut in. “Oof, you're so awfully stiff, honey. Let me mix you up a little tonic.”

“As I have informed you on more than one occasion,” Phoebus went on, “neither myself nor Lady Cymbeline are permitted to drink. We have come for the atmosphere only.”

“Sure you didn’t come for me, Phoebus?” Sitri all but purred, eliciting another round of stifled giggling from the dam.

Monroe had to admit, the color that rose in Phoebus’ cheeks then was certainly attractive. He and Sitri had been cut from a similar cloth. They liked their drakes one of two ways: suave and sultry, or pricklier than a porcupine. Phoebus looked the part of the first, his angular face clean shaven, his ensemble pressed to perfection, but acted the part of the second, all work and no play. For Sitri, he was a rare treat indeed.

So, of course, Monroe instantly despised him.

“Looks like ye’ve got competition,” Castor noted.

Monroe gave another snort, this one derisive. “I could run circles ‘round that greenhorn.”

Unfortunately, it was at that precise moment that the tavern’s characteristic clamor fell into a lull, and Monroe’s distinctive voice cut through the resulting murmur like a hot knife through butter. Delucius sunk lower in his chair, but it was too late. He could feel eyes on the back of his neck, burning and stinging with what he could only describe as malicious glee. It wasn’t much consolation, but at least Monroe appeared suitably remorseful. He was chewing hard on the butt of his cigarillo, his grip tight on his glass.

The sound of approaching footsteps sent a chill racing up Delucius’ spine. His tablemates remained seated, but he saw each of them reach below the table—Monroe for his six shooter, Castor for his dagger. Neither of them bothered to play nice when Phoebus eventually came to a halt behind Delucius’ chair.

“Somethin’ we can help ya with, holy man?” Monroe inquired.

“No,” Phoebus replied, “I am merely here to deliver a message to Mr. Shadowheart.”

A hand alighted on Delucius’ shoulder, and all at once, he was there again, in that accursed church. Warmth seeped into him from the place where two bodies met, causing an uncomfortable sheen of sweat to blossom across his forehead. He could hear choral laughter ringing in his ears, smell rich, heady incense burning nearby, taste blood from a bitten lip on his tongue, sweeter somehow in his memory. It tasted of the tea he’d been offered upon his arrival.

“The Archbishop sends his regards.”

Then Phoebus stepped back, and the present rushed in to fill his absence. Delucius blinked to clear his vision. There was blood in his mouth again, but it was bitter. He washed it down with the rest of his drink.

“Tell him I said to go fuck himself,” he spat.

“Such language,” Phoebus tutted, but said nothing more to the trio. “Cymbeline, come along.”

“We only just got here,” Cymbeline protested. Something in the tone of Phoebus’ voice must have unsettled her, however, as the next moment, Delucius sensed her eyes on him as well, staring from beneath her shroud. “I’m sorry,” she added once she had joined her partner at their table, “for Phoebus, detective. He doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Cymbeline!”

“Former,” was all the response Delucius could muster, “I’m a former detective.”

Cymbeline hesitated at his back, but presently began to drift after Phoebus. He almost felt bad for giving her the cold shoulder; unlike her peers, her kindness seemed genuine. Whichever one of the Archbishop’s mad schemes she’d gotten tangled up in, he was certain she was unaware of her part in it, another lamb to the slaughter. Still, as long as she stuck by that drake she’d come in with, Delucius intended to keep his distance. The bastard smelled too much like the Archbishop to be anything but one of his most trusted acolytes.

“So—” Across from him, Monroe relaxed, once again kicking back in his seat with the crumbling remains of his cig between his lips— “ya gonna tell us what that was all about, prettyboy?”

Delucius ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said, “but it’s gonna cost ya.”

#flight rising #fr #zach writes #clan feldspar #feldspar lore #c: monroe #c: delucius #c: castor #c: phoebus #c: cymbeline #c: sitri #in which both monroe and delucius are immensely gay

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chimmyboii · 4 years

Text

The Story of Us - Part 1

Masterlist

Summary: He was a bright orange flame and I was the moth attracted to his light.

* D/N = Dad’s name!

AN: So this is a fic i’m currently working on, not really sure how many parts there will be but stay tuned!! Feedback and criticism is welcomed!! :)))

Enjoy!

Part 1

The sound of the TV blaring was enough from me to know something wasn’t right. I took off my shoes quickly and peeked my head through the crack of the living room door. Dad was laying passed out on the couch, snoring like a pig. Empty beer bottles were scattered on the coffee table, one had fallen on the floor spilling on to the carpet. Sighing, I entered the room and walked to his sleeping figure, I tug the remote from his grip gently as I could in hopes of not waking him. I press the red button, shutting the TV off.

Just as I’m about to grip the empty bottles, Dad sits up with a gasp. His blurry eyes look at me, his lips turn down in a frown.

“What are you doing?” I inhale slightly, continuing to tuck two of the bottles under my arm before I grab the rest.

“Cleaning up,” I answer before walking into the kitchen and placing them into the bin.

“Well leave them,” he slurs out, taking the remote and turning the TV back on. I growl under my breath. I go back into the living room and go to grab the rest of the bottles when Dad grips my arm, I wince.

“I told you to fucking leave them, what part of that don’t you understand Y/N!” I pull my arm from his grip; tears slip from my eyes. I hurry back into the kitchen out of his way. I hear him stomp up the stairs to the bathroom. In the kitchen, I let out a sob, rubbing at my arm that I’m sure will bruise. Sniffing, I decide to make myself something to eat, grabbing a lot food to hide in my room to avoid coming out. As I’m cutting my sandwich, Dad comes stumbling into the kitchen. He ignores me and reaches into the fridge and pulls out another beer.

“Dad, you’ve got work tomorrow,” I remind, gently. He barks out a laugh before slamming the fridge shut, causing the contents to rattle inside and me to flinch. “That fucking Joe prick fired me this morning,” he laughs bitterly, “thinks I’m not capable for the job,” He walks over to the drawer and pulls out the bottle opener.

“What?” I whisper, my palms become clammy. “But we’re already late on this months’ rent,” Dad ignores me and continues to struggle opening the bottle. I grip the counter tightly as I begin to feel breathless, a surge of panic overwhelms me. “What are we going to do?” I ask him, voice high. Dad finally pulls the metal cap from the bottle and shrugs at me before taking a large gulp.

“Fuck ‘em,” he slurs walking back into the living room. Tears slip down my cheeks once more.

I stand there for God knows how long, just inhaling and exhaling. The tears had finally stopped. I reach and pull out my phone, looking at email of acceptance from the University, I sniffle before typing in the contact number. It rings four times before a female voice answer.

“Hello, I’m Y/N L/N, I’m calling to withdraw my application,” my voice croaks. The phone call lasts all of three minutes. It took three minutes to cancel my dream. I cry as I look at the mess of the kitchen, my blurry eyes look to the living and see my drunk Dad singing tunelessly to the music on the TV. This is my life now; I’m trapped here with this.

- I walk to the supermarket in town, since we don’t own a car and I don’t have enough money for bus fare. It takes me half an hour to get there and I’m sweaty from the walk. Smoothing back my hair, I walk in and go straight to Customer service. The woman behind the counter eyes me for a moment, taking in my flushed complexion and old clothing. I see the pity in her eyes.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?” I clear my throat.

“Are there any jobs going here?” I ask, trying hard not to sound hopeful. She shrugs.

“Not sure, honey. Hold on while I phone the manager,” I nod rapidly. She punches in the numbers on the phone before pushing the phone against her ear.

“Hey Bob, I got a kid here looking for a job. Can you come down?” She ‘uh-huh’ a few times before she turns to me. “How old are you, honey?”

“18,” She tells this to Bob on the phone. She mutters a few sentences which I don’t hear then hangs up.

“Bob will be with you in a moment,” I nod and move to the side, allowing customers to be served.

A bald man with dark glasses comes down the escalators, he holds a clipboard and I assume he is Bob. I stand straighter as he comes towards me. He smiles politely at me and reaches out a hand to shake.

“Hello, I’m Bob Young. So, you’re looking for a job?” I nod eagerly, Bob looks back at his clipboard. “Well we have some job openings; did you bring an application form?” I reach into my bag and pull out my CV. Bob reads it over. “Well you have good grades, all As and Bs.” He hums for a second. “You don’t have any experience though,” I feel a surge of panic.

“I’m a fast learner, I promise. Whatever job you give me I promise I will do my best and more!” I burst; Bobs eyes widen at this.

“I see,” he says almost wearily. “We have a job opening for 8 hours,”

“Umm… are there other jobs going with more hours?” I interrupt, Bob stops and looks at the clipboard once more.

“Well there is a job that just opened yesterday with 25 hours a week but-”

“I’ll take it!” I almost squeal. Bob lets out a chuckle and considers me a moment.

“25 hours a week is hard work, kid, are you sure your up to it?” I firmly nod. “Okay, well the job requires you to; stack shelfs and serve customers. However, I must tell you these shifts are night shift only.” Night shift is perfect actually, I’ll be gone when Dad arrives home hammered from drinking in the pub.

“That’s fine,” I confirm. Bob talks me through the rest of the responsibilities and tells me I’ll be required training which will start next week. I feel excited for the first time in weeks. He then gives me a tour of the shop, showing me where the fire exits are where the employee cloak room is.

“This is a bit informal,” Bob admits, “Normally, people apply for the job online and we reply via email for a job interview. But I know who you are kid, you’re D/N’s* daughter.” I look down feeling ashamed. In this small town, everyone knows your business. “I’m guessing your dad lost his job?”

“Yeah,” I whisper and Bob nods.

“Well, welcome to the team, Y/N,” He pats my back and flashes me a bright smile before leaving.

The till training took an hour and consisted of shadowing another member of staff. I was then placed at the customer service desk, ironically and this has been my position for the last two weeks. Since the supermarket is open 24 hours, it’s important to have staff on at the desk throughout the night. However, at night the shop is quiet and boring; there are barely any customers out after nine o’clock. I lean against the desk, doodling on a piece of paper. It is just me at the desk, my colleague Heather had been asked to give a hand stocking shelfs. I bin the piece of paper and lean my head against my hand, looking out at the dark car park. The desk is situated right by the main entrance which allows me to watch customers come and go. I watch as a black pickup truck pulls up outside the car park. Squinting, I spot what appears to be four boys jumping on the cargo bed. I watch as the boys jump from the back of truck and more exit the vehicle. They make their way into the supermarket, whooping loudly and pushing each other. I cringe at the sudden loud noises. There are seven of them, I note. Security is going to have fun with them. I continue to watch two of the boys laugh and push each other, when a bright flame comes into my view. He looks over at me and I see his lips curve into a small smile.

His hair is bright orange, hard to miss. The turquoise leather jacket he wore complimented his hair, surprisingly. We continue to stare at each other, his smile growing wider until one of the boys nudges him which causes him to look away. I pull out my phone from under the desk, ignoring the boys completely as the walk past the desk into the aisles, disappearing from my view completely and a small part of me feels deflated. I continue to play the game on phone when a bang is sounded in front of me.

“Shit!” I yelp, almost dropping my phone. In front of me, the orange hair boy pushing a blue basket of shopping towards me. He has a large grin on his face, and I notice one of his front teeth is crooked. I gulp, placing my phone back under the desk. I take a bottle of Coke from the basket and scan it under the red light until it beeps.

“Hello,” he greets, his voice is smooth and has a nice pitch – its sweet and low at the same time. I nod at him with a small smile. I grab a bag of sweeties next and scan them. “How are you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I mummer, feeling a bit shy under his gaze, the smile still on his lips but has grew softer. I grab another bag and scan it, but it doesn’t scan, I try again still nothing. I look at him, “umm…just a second,” He nods, and I move over to the other till to see if it scans there and it doesn’t. I curse quietly under my breath, unsure on what to do.

“Maybe try putting in the barcode manually,” the orange-haired boy suggests. I frown at him, walking back over.

“What do you mean?” He smiles softly at me and reaches his hand out for the bag of sweets; I give them to him. He points to the barcode at the bottom of the packet.

“See these numbers?” I nod, he continues, “You should be able to type them on the till.” I let out a ‘ohhh’ before taking the packet back and began to type the numbers on the till, when I press enter the name of the sweets came up along with the price.

“Yes!” I exclaim and the boy let out a laugh. I giggle slightly out of embarrassment, “Sorry, I’m still learning,”

“Ahh, you’re new,” I nod, cheeks feeling hot. “When did you start?”

“Two weeks ago. They never told me I could type the barcodes though. How did you know?” The boy points his thumb behind him, I spot the rest of his friends outside by the truck.

“One of my friends works in retail. He broke the scanner, so he had to type manually for a while,” I smile at him before grabbing the rest of his items without a problem. The last item was a bottle of soju.

“Umm… c-can I see some ID, please?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, he rustles around before letting out a sigh.

“I’ve left it in the truck, can you give me a minute?”

“Yeah that’s fine,” He shoots me a smile before rushing out the door. I watch him quickly dive into the front seat, his bum wiggling slightly as he rustles though the truck. One of his friends kicks his butt which causes the orange haired boy to reach back and rub the area. I let out a laugh at the sight. I frown confused when I see him lean over the dash and from what I can see, scribble something down a piece of paper before slipping it in his turquoise jacket. I jump when leaves the truck slamming the door and running back into the store. Looking at the till, I pretend I’m looking over the items.

“Here you are,” he announces handing me his ID.

Name: Park Jimin Date of Birth: 13 October 1995

He was older than me by two years, I notice. I nod happy he was the legal age and hand him his ID back. I scan the soju and click enter on the till; I turn back to the orange haired boy – Jimin. I open my mouth to speak but he beats me to it.

“My name is Jimin!” he blurts, “You already knew that because of my ID…uhhh shit,” he whispers shaking his head and I giggle. He was cute, I’ll admit.

“I’m Y/N,” I tell him, reach my hand out for him to shake. He clasps my hand and shakes it, the smile back on his face. “Do you need bag for your items, Jimin?”

“Yeah, please.” I nod and begin to bag his items when Jimin hand shots out, pushing a piece of paper under my nose. I frown at it but take it away. The paper is receipt from somewhere and has a number written in blue ink on it. I look back at Jimin whose cheeks are flushed pink, he runs his hand through his hair.

“I-I was wondering i-if you would like to go out sometime…umm, with me?” he stutters, and my eyes widen. “That’s my number,” he nods to the receipt I’m holding.

“Oh,” I mutter looking down at it. My heart is thumping loudly in my ear. “I-I can’t, I’m sorry,” I watch Jimin’s face fall, his brown eyes make contact with the floor. “I’m flattered, honestly, but I’m just not interested in a relationship,” I lie and Jimin just nods. I go back to packing the rest of his items before looking at the till. “That’ll be 24.25, please.” Jimin pulls out his card and taps it on the contactless screen before grabbing the bag and speed walking off.

“Wait!” I yell, Jimin stops abruptly and turns to me. I grab the receipt that has printed off and wave it at him. “Do you want your receipt?” Jimin shakes his head before practically running out the store.

I sigh as I look the receipt which had Jimin’s number. He was cute, I thought with a small smile. I eye the paper once more before folding it and tucking it in the pocket of my trousers.

18 notes · View notes

starryseo · 5 years

Text

phone number. | yang jeongin

pairing ↠ jeongin x gender neutral!reader

genre ↠ just a fluffy barista au!!

wc ↠ 3229

summary ↠ jeongin likes you a latte.

warnings ↠ just jeongin being cute and in loooove. its cringey.

a/n ↠ barista!jeongin bc who doesn’t love cafe aus?

cafe glow is well-known around these parts of town bc it has such!! great!! food and drinks!

it has a real homely feel so a lot of student from the nearby schools/ unis come here

and it’s a pretty big cafe so there’s a lot of space for ppl to come in and chill, whether that be large study groups or just individuals trying to cram for upcoming tests

that homely feel?? it’s bc of all the youngsters that basically run the cafe

it’s officially owned by mr and mrs bang, but their son, chan, manages this cafe a lot since they’ve got a few other places in town to run

chan loves recruiting teens to work bc, despite their hyperactivity (esp the lot that are currently there), they’re a lot less work to deal with than grumpy adults complaining abt wages

so!!

just a few months ago, jeongin started looking around for places to work at

let’s get that bread bro

he spoke to a lot of the nearby businesses like the florist, library and pizzeria but as soon as he entered glow and saw a blond guy downing shots of black coffee as he made different drinks, he Knew he wanted to work here

he headed straight to the counter (ok ofc he waited in line first but who cares abt that)

“welcome to glow, what can i get ya?”

“hi, i was wondering if you were hiring?”

“so,” the guy - nametag reading Felix - began, leaning forwards on the counter, “you wanna join the glow gang, huh? have you got what it takes??”

maybe he should’ve thought more clearly abt this-

“felix are u creeping out kids again?? i swear this is the last time i leave you on counter duty” the black-coffee-drinking blond huffed, wiping his hands on his apron as he left the coffee machines. he nudged felix out of the way, pushing him to the machines before he turned to jeongin. “i’m sorry abt him, i don’t know why i still keep him around”

“i heard that!”

“anyway,” the blond - nametag with Chan printed on it - grinned, “what can i get for you?”

“a job here would be great”

“you really wanna work here,,,, with that?” he pointed over to felix who looked back with a frown

“yeah, it seems pretty fun!”

“you got a cv on you?”

jeongin is a Prepared Boi. before his job hunting run he printed off multiple copies of his cv so he handed it over to chan who briefly looked over it

“when can you start working?”

“when do you need me to?”

chan let out a chuckle at that, pocketing jeongin’s cv, “swing by tomorrow at 4 and we’ll work that out, yeah?”

jeongin went home a Happy Boy and the next day at exactly 4:37 he had landed himself a sweet job at cafe glow

ever since that day a few months ago, jeongin had been learning the ins and outs of the cafe

he’s learnt all about where felix hides his ‘secret’ stash of sweets, where to kick if the machines ever go down and jisung’s ability to not stop talking

jisung’s the guy in charge of training jeongin bc chan doesn’t trust felix with another human’s life and minho, an older uni student that works here part time, is way too busy flirting with customers to get more tips those uni fees won’t pay themselves u go bby

and chan himself already has a lot to deal with since he mainly works in the kitchens

so jisung has taken jeongin under his wing and taught him how to make all drinks (despite there being a manual for this) and how to deal with the customers

and even tho jisung is only 5 months older than jeongin, he n e v e r misses an opportunity to baby the hecc out of him

“what are the different cup sizes we have?”

“uh,, small,, medium and large??”

“goSH jeonGIN you’re so smART!!!! ily!!! what cAN’T you do???”

jisung’s overdramatic as hell but he means well

and it’s always funny when jeongin teams up with felix (still a pretty rare occassion) to prank jisung

one day jeongin had a test after school so he couldn’t come by

and ofc he let chan know this in advance but he and felix decided not to tell jisung

jisung was waiting around for jeongin to come and he literally almost started crying when felix told him an hour later that jeongin wasn’t gonna come

“,,m,y bab y ? jeonginnie??? wh at do u me an,, he won’t com,e??? felix you a s s don’t l i e to m,e,, :((((”

they even got minho to record the whole thing not for free ofc, and minho’s services are n o t cheap, but it was totally worth it

felix screenshot jisung’s crying face and it’s now the display picture of their glow gang group chat

which btw never shuts up bc: during the day (and work hours) felix, jisung and jeongin will be spamming it, during the evening minho will complain abt all the uni work he’s got to do, after dinner time the youngsters are back on it sending memes until like 2am, and then by 4am chan finally gets on and complains abt the boys killing his storage with their dumb memes & he gives any updates abt the next day’s schedule if need be

it’s a great system, hella wild and random, but jeongin loves it nonetheless

now for the part where u, dear reader, come in!!

it’s just an ordinary day, a bit quieter than usual but jeongin’s not complaining bc it gives him time to finish off some of his hw while he’s at the till

he looks up when the door chime rings and

(°ロ°) !

he’s vvv obviously staring at u as u walk in, his pen drops on the counter and his mouth is :0

damn yn you’ve broken jeongin

but does he care???

yes

is he stopping?????

also yes but you’ve already seen his dumbstruck face and he realises he was caught just staring at u when u walk up to him with a shy smile on your face

he doesn’t know what’s come over him

and he doesn’t mean to be some typical teenage boi straight out of a high school drama

but u just look so pretty he couldn’t help but?? go heart eyes??

he’s trying not to lose his cool when u finally reach the counter

“hi!” he grins, “welcome to cafe glow, what can i get for you?”

you order your drink and watch as jeongin types away at the computer

he’s rlly hoping the screen blocks his blush bc he’s still (´♡‿♡`)’ing and he’s pretty sure he can feel his blush at this point

“is there anything else i can get you?”

your number

he finds your thinking face so cute!! the way u bite ur lip a little as your eyes glaze over the sweet treats they have on display

he d i e s when u look back up at him and ask, “anything you’d recommend?”

he keeps his cool as he says some of his fave desserts, and you choose the cheesecake

“alright! will you be eating in or is that to-glow go”

his heart swells when u laugh at his pun but he’s highkey dYinG inside bc he wants u to stay for just a little longer

he almost cries when u say you’re eating in bc !!! yes!!!!!! yay!!!!!!!!!! maybe he could try talking to you!!!!!

“sweet! take a seat anywhere, your food will be made shortly!”

when u go to pay for ur food he’s internally hating felix bc he swears all these mushy feelings he’s experiencing are bc felix made him watch back-to-back romance films

he’s taken money from a lot of customers but he’s never, n e v e r, wanted to just hold their hand and he’s honestly so close to just never letting go of yours rn but he mentally slaps himself

pull it together jeongin u dumbass

when u tell him to keep the change he’s just

s i g h can u get any more perfect

he yeets felix out of the way from the coffee machines and towards the till

“role change, i’m bored!”

“but chan banned me from the tills, he’s gonna kill me!”

“i’ll get jisung on you”

“uGHhgHGHghhhhh”

he’s halfway thru making ur drink when minho sliiiides next to him and slings an arm around his shoulders

“so, innie, who’s the cutie you’re serving?” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

from his short time working here he knows that minho is in love with any kind of gossip and there’s no point in lying to him

esp not with this massive blush on jeongin’s face that’S STILL thERe bc jeongin peeked over and saw you taking out textbooks which means you’re gonna stay here for lo n g er than he thought

and he’s got this huge grin on his face :D

and no one’s ever that happy making coffee

esp not when felix is right next to them singing along to the twice song playing in the cafe

god knows who put felix in charge of the cafe playlist

an y w ay

“does our baby innie have a,,, crushhh on a certain someone???”

“noooooookay maybe? idk i just met them!!”

“:0!!!! our baby’s iN LOVE!!!”

minho said that so loudly!!! jeongin peered over minho’s shoulder and saw that y o u had looked up at the exclamation and he let out a sheepish laugh to try and make the scene look normal

u just grinned at him and he almost swooned

minho’s shouting alerted jisung who deadass ran from the other side of the cafe

jisung, out of breath: wh-what do u mean,, in love,,,??? you’re too young for that ://

even chan popped out from the kitchen. “jeongin loves someone?? how cute, who is it- felix, what the hell are u doing there, didn’t i ban u from the tills??”

“blame loverboy!”

“gUYsss :((( let me wORk!!”

“u do u, innie, go get ‘em tiger!” minho said, smirking as he took a step back

the other boys stayed quiet as well, chan filling up the front display with the baked goods he freshly made

jeongin quietly got to finishing off ur drink and grabbed a cheesecake slice to carry over to you

“h-hey,” he started, placing the plate and drink beside your textbook, “sorry it took so long,,,”

“that’s alright,” you smiled and all his worries literally washed away, “was everything okay back there?”

“yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck, smiling shyly, “minho’s just easily excited and nosy, a terrible combination really”

u laughed at that and he grinned, his nerves easing away

“u guys seem really close,” when he saw u quickly look over to the counters he turned as well, just in time to see all four of them rush to try and act natural (altho jisung just dropped to the ground so he’s really a lost cause)

“they’re really crazy, but they do mean well,” he grinned, “except felix, avoid him at all costs”

“i’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckled when jeongin pointed out who felix was and felix just glared back at him, as tho he knew jeongin was talking shit abt him

“well,” he started, realising he should go bc a big group of customers had just entered, “i’ll leave u to it, i hope u enjoy ur food. let me know if u need anything else!”

he headed back to the counter, a HUGE grin on his face, he’s so glad his back is to u bc he’d be so embarassed if u saw

it’s bad enough minho saw and is non-stop teasing him abt it now

throughout his shift minho was just taunting him, cooing “innie’s in love~”

as he was dealing with other customers and running around the cafe, he’d make quick eye contact with u and each time he did, u let out the softest smiles, he’s pretty sure he’s never smiled this much

abt an hour later when the rush had died down, jeongin looked over to see that!!! u were still there!!!!!

he fixed up a quick mango smoothie, smth he always found super refreshing, and headed over to your table

“h-hey?” he tapped your shoulder when he noticed u had your headphones in

“oh, hey! i, uh, i didn’t order this?”

“yeah, it’s,, it’s on the house, thought you might need a pick-me-up, you’ve been working rly hard”

“ahh thank you!!!” u grinned at him so cutely, “would u like to sit down?”

he nodded too enthusiastically but he hopes u didn’t pick up on that ((u did)) as he sat down opposite you

for the next 30 mins? hour?? neither of u know

u guys just talked

he’s thanking god that there was no rush in customers bc he enjoyed spending time just talking to u

the conversation seemed to flow so?? naturally???

he found out ur name and that u go to a nearby school sadly not the same one as him

and u were taking the scenic route home instead of ur normal walking path or using the bus which is why he’d never seen u before

he’s so glad that fate brought u here today tho!!!! eternally grateful that u made that wise choice!!!

when ur phone buzzed with a message from ur family he finally realised that it was getting late

he watched almost in tears as u packed ur stuff up, thanking him for the drinks and snacks that he definitely didn’t steal from felix’s hidden stash

he went back to the counter, stars in his eyes as he leaned against the counter, opposite minho who was chilling by the till

“so, how’d it go? did u get their number??”

jeongin: (❤ω❤)

jeongin, 0.02 secs later: ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ

felix, jumping in: “pls don’t tell me u spent all that time,,,,, and u didn’t get their number-”

minho: “loverboi was too busy making moves, eh?”

jeongin’s mood instantly dropped and he was so close to just headbutting the counter then and there

what if u never come back????

what if u came back when he wasn’t there?????

what if you’re on ur way here but then u see another cafe and u go there instead and fall in love with a barista there???????

jeongin’s 2 seconds away from pouting for all eternity when chan comes over and pats him on the back, “i’m sure they’ll come back!”

jeongin’s praying the old man’s right

and he is!!!!!!! cliche ik

u didn’t come back the next day which broke jeongin’s heart and he was honestly so close to losing all hope bc he’s incredibly dramatic like that

but u come back the day after!!!

jeongin’s wiping down a table when u enter and u spot him instantly and wave

he waves back but the cloth he’s holding slips from his hand onto the ground

and he rushes to pick it up but hits his head on the table when he tries standing up again

and he’s in so much pain but he just nervously laughs it away esp when he sees ur half worried, half trying-not-to-laugh-aloud face

when he sees u walking to him -- not the counter -- he’s counting to 100 in 3 seconds to try and calm himself down to not look like even more of a fool

“is the table okay?”

“yeah, i’m alri- hey, rude!” he pouts, faking a sniffle and rubbing his head

“i’m kidding, jeongin” (he had to bite his lip to not squEAL when u said his name) “are you okay? that looked painful :((”

“i’ll live,” he fake sobbed, rubbing away imaginary tears with the cloth in his hand before he realised what he’d just done and dropped it on the table in disgust (he highkey dieddd when u laughed at him again) “ew, i’m sorry you had to see all this”

“it’s fine,” you grinned, scrunching ur nose when u saw the wet smears on his face, “but u got a lil smth there” u pointed to ur own cheek

jeongin wanted to CRY

he knows he’s a cute boi (he uses this to his advantage whenever he can)

but rn??

he knows he looks like the epitome of a grade A DumbassTM

he just let out the longest s i g h

“i’ll be right back!”

he rushed off to the back and sorted himself out (and quickly iced his head)

he came back out to see u sitting down at the same table as last time

as soon as he came thru the doors u looked up and held out thumb, an eyebrow raised

and he reciprocated the gesture, telling u he’s all okay now!

he found it so cute that u cared!!! his heart: on fire!!

felix walked right to him, pulling him along to the coffee machines as he told him ur order

“u owe me one now loverboi!”

jeongin prepped ur food and took it to u like last time

but this time u initiated the conversation

“felix isn’t all that bad, y’know?” you said, holding onto your hot drink as it warmed ur hands up

“for now,” jeongin started, “trust me, if u ever have the misfortune of seeing him act cute, you’ll regret ever saying that.”

your nose scrunched as you imagined that -- jeongin gasped when he saw and then prayed you didn’t see that -- before you let out the cutest laugh he’s ever heard, “yeah, i can’t imagine that looking nice”

you two talked for a bit more until jeongin had to get back to the counter and take orders

he popped up at your table when he could, offering felix’s sweets and a refill

“do you treat all your customers like this? free drinks isn’t good for business, y’know?”

he went bright red at your teasing bc “nope, you’re special!” -- his eyes went w i d e when he said that and, if it was possible, his cheeks went redder -- but god, was it worth it bc your eyes sparkled and your blooming blush was so pretty he was starstruck

he cleared his throat, let out the most nervous chuckle ever, put the lemonade on your table before diving behind the counter

he could practically hear minho’s smirk from all the way over here

great.

it took a little while longer for him to psych himself up to go over to you again after that disaster

but seeing you pack up your bag made him forget everything and run up to you

“hey, you’re done already?” he asked, pouting as you put your last book away

“yeah, i’ve gotta help make dinner soon,” you replied, fixing your bag over your shoulder, “thanks for the drink, it was great!”

“y-yeah, no problem!” you loved his drink!! score!!!! “come again soon, yeah?”

“definitely,” you winked -- you winked, god his heart was weak -- before waving and taking your leave

felix slid up next to him, throwing his arm around jeongin’s shoulders

“pls tell me you got their number this time”

shit.

the top gif is jeongin’s face right now

#stray kids #yang jeongin #straykidznet #sk-writersnet #yang jeongin scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #jeongin scenarios #stray kids fluff #yang jeongin fluff #jeongin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #yang jeongin imagines #jeongin imagines #jgn

234 notes · View notes

its-sixxers · 4 years

Text

Video Game Questionnaire

Tagged by @slothssassin!

Tagging any of y’all hoes (or non hoes) who wanna talk about some got dang VIDYA GAEMS

Rules: Fill in your answers below and tag some buddies!

-Games-

First game you ever played: Pokemon Red on the OG game boy. Hell yeah.

Favorite game: Don’t make me do this. D: Probably a toss up between: Heroes of Might and Magic III, Knights of the Old Republic (1 and 2), Vampire the Masquerade Bloodlines aaaand Fallout New Vegas.

Game you hated at first but now love: Darkest Dungeon! I found out my gameplay groove and now really really like it. I didn’t hate it before, just found it frustrating.

Game you used to love but now hate: I don’t really hate any game that I used to love (even World of Warcraft), but I can’t ever go back to the Mass Effect Trilogy for reasons that are probably obvious to anyone who’s played it. I got hurt too bad man. :(

actually just recalled and this is gonna be a SPICY opinion: FFXIV. I had a lot of fun with it but the RP scene drove me off really fast. WoW’s Moon Guard gets a lot of shit, but FFXIV was miles worse for general grossness. I don’t begrudge anyone who has fun with the game or RPs in it (there’s a lot of fun lore!) but I don’t have the energy for trying to sift through that amount of nightmare to find like the dozen cool people lol.

Game with the best group/companion(s): This was a hard one. There’s games that have my favorite characters ever but also have some really annoying companions, there’s games with characters I like across the board but the execution is weak. I’m just going to say VTM Bloodlines for easiness’ sake. A great cast and I actually think I like them all for specific reasons. Yes, even Ming Xiao. Maybe especially Ming Xiao, actually.

A game with your favorite ending: Bloodlines even though I had to turn godmode on for the last combat portions teehee. I just love the twist. :D

A game with the WORST ending: See Mass Effect above. Yes it’s been like a decade, no I’m still not over it.

Best character customization?: HRMST. With mods, Fallout 4. Without - I played Black Desert Online for a whole 3 seconds and it had an insane amount of options but I found it overwhelming lol.

Also putting a cut here cuz long post.

-Hero and Companions-

Your favorite playable character: Jedi Exile or the Courier.

The funniest playable character: Garrett from the Thief series is a smartass and I love him for it. The Courier also gets some great options, naturally.

Your favorite companion(s): Oh christ here we go. Carth Onasi, Jolee Bindo, HK-47, Atton Rand, Kreia, Bao-Dur, Kaidan Alenko, Garrus, Tali, Wrex, Legion, The Entire New Vegas Gang, Butch DeLoria, Charon, Deacon, Preston.

Companions you could live without: This is a difficult one since even companions I’m not super fond of have their place and purpose in the narrative, usually. I’m going to say G0-T0 and Hanharr from KOTOR 2 as they kept that game from the Best Companions title lol. I don’t play dark side and both of them just felt a little underdeveloped for me.

oh and skadge from SWTOR, fuck skadge

-Relationships-

Favorite game friendship(s): Shepard + everyone, Morrigan and the Female Warden, Josie + Inquisitor, The Courier + everyone, Sole Survivor + everyone, Female Revan + Bastila, Exile + the new Jedi gang.

Favorite companion banter: This might make me a basic bitch but Deacon. The interplay between goofiness and sadness is just perfect.

A relationship you loved but went bad: Revan and Carth. It went bad because Revan fucked off to the Unknown Regions and left him behind, then we find out why in SWTOR (and they canonize Revan as a dude BOOOO) and it’s dumb lol.

A relationship you weren’t sure of but loved: Kaidan and Shepard when Mass Effect 2 rolled along. Being railroaded into working with Cerberus had me VERY annoyed at the time and Kaidan’s 100% right to also be mad about it so I was like oh god yeah I’d break up too. Mass Effect 2 has the best companions + side story but the worst main quest fight me. (Actually don’t pls)

A character you wish you COULD romance: Let’s list em off, shall we: D E A C O N, Nick Valentine, Glory, Nathaniel Howe, Bao-Dur, Nines Rodriguez, LaCroix, Beckett. Let me do it you cowards.

A minor character you wish could be a companion: Harding in Inquisition, Glory (actually most of the Railroad would be nice), Scout Haylen, Fahrenheit.

-Fun-

Shoutout to a random NPC: All the Jawas in KOTOR I love them. Oh and Officer Chunk in Bloodlines, that stupid, stupid man.

A game you love watching playthroughs for and want to play: I don’t actually seek out more than one let’s play of a game. :V I’d say the old Call of Cthulhu game though - it’s really neat but buggy as all hell and the one time I tried starting it up it ended up breaking real big time. It’s fun to watch people luckier (or more tech competent) than I am play it and I wish I could do the same.

Love watching playthroughs but won’t ever play: My boyfriend and I sometimes do this thing where he’ll stream a game he’s playing and I’ll sit in voice chat with him while I work with the stream in the other screen, so probably the games he’s done there. Most recent ones have been: Metal Gear Solid, FF7 and FF9.

Online gaming or solo?: I looove solo games but I love online more. Being in an LDR, playing games together online is really good. I enjoy having fun with friends, and I also enjoy the competitive aspect that comes along with online games. It really pushes me to be better at things and improve. Usually I’m in some kind of MMO - it’s looking to be WoW for the forseeable future right now. Sometimes I’ll get dragged into games like Planetside or Destiny and have a fun time for a month or two as well. :) I had a ton of fun with Sea of Thieves a few months ago too! Living our Captain Jack fantasy.

Why do you play video games?: More than ever recently - creative inspiration. I like poking into weird games or games with a really strong art direction or good writing. (EYE Divine Cybermancy, Pathologic, Sunless Seas/Skies, Cultist Simulator, Dishonored, Darkwood, and Darkest Dungeon being a few of them). I also just really like a good story and good characters. Being able to immerse myself in another world is great. I also play them for that little cookie of accomplishment - beating a hard boss (LOOKING AT YOU NAMELESS KING) or figuring out a puzzle (Cultist Simulator is chock full of those) or surviving spookies (Darkwood big time). Video games are great and they hold my attention better than TV or movies as I actually have to engage with them lol.

#tagged stuff #i have a somewhat eclectic collection of vidya i like aside from the mainstay RPGs #i wish there were more indie weird rpgs like there are indie weird horror games or shooters

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thiswasinevitableid · 5 years

Text

Monsters

Prompt for the 28th was: “Are you afraid yet?”

Note: This AU contains allusions to societal homophobia.

“Are you afraid yet?” The councilman, white rose pin shining bright on his chest, looks down at Duck as a guard finishes chaining him to the post.

“Nope. And I ain’t gonna be, so fuck off.”

“Is that how you speak to your elders?” Another councilmen chimes in.

“When they’re feedin me to a fuckin monster? YES!”

Both men sniff, tartly, and retire to their viewing spot. The guard rings a chime three times. All attention turns to the cave entrance a mere few yards from where Duck is tied.

The monster doesn’t appear right away. This makes it worse, gives him time to think of what’s coming.

To remember how he got here.

It began at the spring festival, two weeks ago. The young man with the silver hair, who smiled at Duck so sweetly and so strangely when he’d bought food from their stand. Who’d leaned against the side of it, talking animatedly to Duck once Duck indicated that he wouldn’t mind the company.

At the end of that day, he’d told him his name was Indrid.

He was back the next day, and asked if Duck would go with him to the evening portion, because he was only passing through town and was unsure of the customs for the dance. Which is how they ended up dancing together.

(Not for every dance, no matter how much Duck longed to do so, as dancing only with another man would have drawn unwanted attention).

On the third day, as the sun set, Duck kissed him beneath an apple tree. Or, perhaps, he kissed Duck. It was so mutual an action it was hard to say who began it. Indrid tasted like honey, and the eyes he kept hidden behind red glasses were a deep, reddish brown when Duck slid the spectacles up his forehead.

The fifth day, it all went wrong. He’d been so careful, chosen a seldom used barn and hurried Indrid up into the loft, away from prying eyes. But they’d barely begun, he’d barely gotten to touch the cool skin beneath Indrid’s shirt when there were voices outside.

They weren’t fast enough. There was no way the trio of villagers who stood, gazing up at them with grim satisfaction, could mistake their half-clothed states for having any purpose other than what it did.

“Go.” He’d stepped between Indrid and the men coming up the ladder.

“But you shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

“I ain’t lettin them hurt you too. Now for fucks sake, run.”

Indrid disappeared out the window. Duck made damn sure he wasn’t followed.

In retrospect, it may have been that last action that was the nail in his coffin. When sacrifices are identified, they aren’t always given up right away. Indeed, certain children of the towns richer members have been identified but never offered up.

Breaking the nose of one White Rose member and biting another on the arm ensured Duck jumped to the head of the line. The verdict was swift: he’d been caught in an act of deviance, therefore he would be food for the monster, insuring the purer, more moral citizens of Kepler would not have to be offered in his place.

Running was no option. If he escaped, it was understood a family member would take his place. Besides, where would he go? His friend Juno was still in Kepler, but would be punished if she helped him. One of his few friends in another village was sacrificed a month ago (for each town in this region must reckon with the monsters in the mountains). Another, from Kepler, ran away two months prior with her girlfriend, a woman with golden hair and eyes, before they could be caught in a compromising position.

A strange, trilling noise echos out of the cave, snapping him back into the present. Soon, two red, glowing eyes appear. Then the creature steps into the sunlight.

His resolve to show no fear wavers.

It must be seven feet tall, with dark, speckled wings and feathers coating its body. Antennae sprout from its head, and each of it’s four arms end in clawed hands.

It makes its way to him, odd high noises still skittering out of it. He forces his face to stay neutral, forces his eyes to stay open even when the creature kneels before him. It cocks its head, opens a mouth with far too many teeth and draws its tongue in the air by Ducks cheek. Then it growls, tears the chains as if they were nothing, and picks him up, holding him to its chest. Slowly it stands, and as it does its wings envelope him, blocking out the rest of the world.

At a leisurely pace, it walks back towards the cave. Behind them, he hears one elder say to another, “I wonder if we shall hear it happen? The last sacrifice in Victorville, there was screaming before the spectators finished loading their carriages.”

Duck sucks in a shaky breath; the man they’re talking about was his friend. Was it so painful for him? Will it be that bad for Duck?

He allows himself a some tears, then. For his friend, for himself.

At the sound of his sniffles the creature pauses. A screech fills the air, though it seems directed at the viewers, not at him and he smiles bitterly as he hears them all scrambling away in fear.

The creatures quickens it’s movements and the air becomes damp, cool. Once they’re in the cave, the growl changes to a softer sound, and if Duck didn’t know better he’d swear the two hands stroking his back and hair were trying to comfort him.

After far to short a time, there’s a deep scraping of stone and the creature takes a few more steps before lowering him to the ground. The scraping returns and the wings leave his view just in time for him to see a stone door sliding shut, plunging the room into darkness.

The creature moves about, tapping two crystals which proceed to glow as brightly as any fire. Duck looks around, finds himself in a huge nest of pillows and soft, warm fabrics. There’s no sign of blood or bones or other remnants of the humans who came before him.

The creature kneels in front of him again, leaning forward. It doesn’t look bloodthirsty or angry. It mostly looks sorry for him.

“Wait.”

The creature waits.

“I, uh, you don’t need to eat me. Or, uh, maybe you do cause you don’t got other food but, uh, but I’m sure we could work somethin out.”

It smiles, cocks it head.

“Please.” He whispers, “I ain’t done anythin wrong. Except punchin that White Rose.”

“Given that he’s had a hand in goodness knows how many people's unhappiness, I do wish I’d been able to see that.” The monster speaks and the surprise of it sends him crawling backwards.

“Oh, oh dear, I’m sorry. I’m afraid in my excitement at having you here I didn’t keep an eye on your possible reactions.”

“Excitement? You’re fuckin excited to kill me?”

“That isn’t what I said.” The creature stands, pads over to large desk, “is it?” He picks up an object, holding it out so Duck can see.

Red glasses.

“N-no, how did you get him? I though he got away.” Ducks voice cracks and tears threaten the corners of his eyes.

“Never fear, I did not get him” it puts the glasses on and reality bends, “I am him.”

Duck stares at the man before him. Then he stares some more.

“How in the everlovin fuck?”

Indrid grins, “I will explain everything shortly, but first, may I approach you?”

Duck nods and Indrid crawls into the nest with him. As soon as he’s within reach, Duck is in his arms. Indrid chirps, pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and guides it gently along Ducks cheeks.

“I’m so sorry that I frightened you. Unfortunately, I had to play up being a monster to maintain the ruse. If we seem too gentle, they get suspicious. Though, half those sounds I made were actually happy ones, not that they would know that.”

“Where did you bring me?”

“My home, in several senses of the word. This room and the adjoining chambers are my literal house. They are part of the kingdom of Sylvain, which thrives here in these mountains, and which is my home.”

“But, other villages, their monsters-”

“Look different? That us because we children of Sylvain come in many forms, some of which are more alarming to humans than others. But no matter how frightening we look, we don’t mean you any harm.”

“Now” Indrid holds his hands, nuzzles his forehead, “I have some things to retrieve for you, as I foresee you getting hungry very soon. I can see the future, since you’re about to ask how I knew that. You’re welcome to come with me, but you can also stay here if you wish to-ah, never mind, all the futures where you wanted to stay here just vanished”

“Sorry, thought about it and I don’t wanna be alone right now.” He doesn’t want Indrid out of his sight, doesn’t want it to turn out to be some trick of the cave, some fevered dream.

Indrid stands, pulling Duck up with him, “As you wish. Now, since you’re about to ask again: no, never in the history of Sylvain has one of the humans sacrificed to us actually been eaten.”

“Then how come we keep givin them?” He takes Indrid’s hand as they step back into the tunnels. Stones in the wall light up as they walk, and various halls are lit with torches for added brightness.

“Long ago, the first humans who settled the land outside our mountains got along fairly well with us. Or at the very least understood that we were neighbors, not a threat, and we moved between each others towns easily. But then, those humans were forced out by the humans who founded towns like Kepler. When a Sylph ambassador went to the nearest village, there was a great uproar and no small amount of miscommunication. The ambassador was inviting the humans to a meal, in a gesture of good faith. The humans thought-”

“You wanted to eat ‘em.”

“Precisely. You can imagine, then, the confusion of the Sylph who stepped out of their door to find a panicked, tearful human waiting for them. Now, tell me, what would you do if you opened your door and found someone who was in distress there?”

“Bring ‘em into the house and see if I could help ‘em.”

“And that’s just what that Sylph did. After a great deal of tears on the humans part, she was able to communicate that she had been chosen as sacrifice because she was with child outside the bonds of marriage. Unsurprisingly, when her host asked if she wanted to go home and explain the error, she said ‘not even if you did want to eat me would I go back to that fuckin place.’”

“Were you there?”

“No, but the records are quite clear on her phrasing. The Sylphs met the next day to discuss what to do, but before their meeting adjourned, three more people had been ‘sacrificed.’ It didn’t take us long to notice a pattern: towns sent those who they deemed deviant, those they deemed inconvenient. And so we kept gathering those poor offerings up, bringing them into Sylvain so they might find a new home. Over time, we started scouting, looking for those who were likely targets, as we’d learned from previous humans that their lives were often unpleasant well before the sacrifice if they were deemed outsiders. When I came of age, I used my foresight to help identify them. And, well, in the last few years, as Sylphs were scouting, more and more came to fall in love with the humans they knew would be sacrificed. And so, many took the chance to woo those humans before hand, or strike up friendships. That way, they’d have a familiar face when they arrived. In some cases, the courtship accidentally lead to those humans being sacrificed sooner.”

Up ahead, Duck can see daylight.

“What if they didn’t want to stay here?”

“Then we helped them find a new place to live, in other towns farther away, ones where they wouldn’t have to fear because of who they loved or how they were. Plenty chose that, plenty chose to remain here.”

As they step out of the mouth of the cave, Duck blinks in the warm sunshine. They’re in a massive meadow, dotted with a spring, several ponds, and a handful of stores.

“Sylvain is only mountains on her outer edges.” Indrid smiles at the awe on Ducks face, then turns them towards one stall, painted in a checkered pattern. As they get closer, Duck can see it’s a restaurant, with wooden picnic tables out front.

A figure steps out the door carrying trays, sets them down before a mixture of Sylphs and humans. He waves.

“Hey Indrid, runnin a little behind since we’ve been busy, but don’t worry, I’ll have things ready soon.” In spite of being two feet taller than Duck and looking like a cross between a man and some other form of ape, gentleness radiates from him. He extends a large, furry hand Ducks way, “I’m Barclay. Nice to meet you, Indrid hasn’t shut up about you for the last week.”

“That so?” Duck smirks at the other man, who turns bright pink.

The door to the shop creaks open once more as Barclay continues, “how are you holding up? Know that sacrifice shit is real scary on your end. I felt so bad about how upset my human was, I set a new record for how many times I apologized during the trip from the sacrificial spot to my home. Isn’t that right, Joe?”

“I maintain you could have warned me ahead of time. But I forgive you all the same.” Says a calm, friendly voice.

Duck knows that voice. He peers around Barclay, finds a familiar face smiling at him as Joe Stern wipes his hands on his apron.

“Hello, Duck.”

Duck clears the few feet between them easily, gathers his friend into a hug.

“You got any idea how fuckin happy I am to see you?”

“Likewise.” Stern lets go of him ,looks him up and down, “I heard you broke a White Roses nose. Good for you.”

“Thanks. Uh, there’s just one thing that’s confusin me. Well, there’s a lotta things confusin me right now but this is the one that applies to you. I heard the elders talkin about how when you got carried off, they heard screamin even before the folks watchin headed home.”

Now it’s Sterns turn to go red, “Yes, ah, well, you see, Barclay didn’t make it very far before telling me what was going on. And, as you can imagine, the relief of knowing I wasn’t going to die coupled with the joy of seeing him again lead me to ask for a certain form of celebration. Right then and there.”

Duck blinks for a moment, then bursts out laughing, “figures a fuckin White Rose couldn’t tell the difference between someone bein killed and someone gettin their brains fucked out.”

Stern is laughing now too, “It wasn’t even my screaming.”

A high, chirping laugh joins them and Duck turns to see Indrid with his hands over his face, laughing at a mortified Barclay.

“What, he knows how to get me going?”

Stern giggles one last time, then nods over Ducks shoulder as a new group enters the tables, “I need to help with the dinner rush, but I promise we can catch up tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.” He waves as his friend disappears inside.

“Duck you may wish you brace yourself.”

“For wha-ahhhck!”

He’s knocked to the ground by a figure yelling, “you’re heeeeere!”

“Aubrey?”

The young woman smiles down at him, freckled nose crinkling from the force of her grin.

“Yep” She lets him sit up before crushing him in another hug.

“Hi, Duck.” Dani leans against a nearby table, waving. Her golden hair is up, and she looks comfortably grass-stained.

“I almost told Indrid he had to tell you what was coming, because I was so worried that you’d be scared.” Aubrey says, still not letting go, “but he pointed out that you can’t lie to save your life, and that you might give him and us away.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Dani told me about the whole set-up way ahead of time. And I was like, ‘fuck that, I’m not gonna let those jerks get any kind of satisfaction out of sacrificing me, even if it is just sending me back to my super hot girlfriend. So I was like, ‘let’s elope’ and she said yes.”

Dani shrugs, “She’s very persuasive.”

“And! Something about being in Sylvain makes Dr Harris Bonkers able to walk on two legs and talk to me. Kind of.”

“That’s...good? I mean, you seem real happy about it.”

“IT’S SO COOL!”

He listens happily as Aubrey tells him all about their home, their gardens, moving from the ground to one of the tables as they chat. Eventually, she has to leave to prepare for some magic lessons, but not before making Duck promise to come by tomorrow so she can show him more of the kingdom.

He watches her and Dani walk off towards one set of tunnels, turns back to find Indrid now sitting across from him.

“I ordered dinner, since Barclay won’t be finished with the basket just yet, and it’s turning into a lovely evening.” He gazes up at the stars with a sigh.

“Sorry, I been talkin to my friends this whole time and-”

“Duck, are you trying to apologize for spending time with loved ones you thought you’d never see again?”

“...Well, when you put it like that it sounds silly. Sorry, don’t know why I’m apologizin so much.”

“It’s alright.” Indrid rests his hand lightly on Ducks own, “You’ve just been through what was, as far as your mind and body are concerned, a near death situation. It’s not strange to be rattled. “

“Thanks. Uh, Indrid, can I ask you somethin?”

The Sylph nods.

“Barclay called Stern ‘his’ human. If, if a Sylph rescues a human does that mean they-”

“Belong to them? Oh goodness, no. It’s a language issue. In Sylph, the phrasing conveys that they were that humans’ first contact with Sylvain. But it comes out odd in English. Oh, thank you.” He smiles as Stern sets two plates down; soup for Duck, and a pile of fruit for Indrid.

“Do you mind if I take off my glasses to eat?”

Duck, mouth already full, shakes his head. They eat in contented silence for a bit before Duck asks, “have any humans ever tried to come rescue their friends?”

“Two instances, both recent.” Indrid pops a strawberry into his mouth, chews thoughtfully, “I suppose more don’t because so often those offered at outcasts. And, many people are rather cowardly. The first one to try it was Mama.” He points off to his left, to a human woman who is leaning against a tree, carving something Duck can’t quite make out from wood.

“Her friend Thacker was offered. He was brought in and she came shortly after, well armed and quite willing to fight whatever she had to in order to help him. She had to meet several other humans before she was convinced it wasn’t a trick. Then she decided to stay herself, and handle security in case of other humans with less-kind motives.”

“And the other exception?’

“Hollis.” He points to a young person in a yellow and black shirt, “They were taken by Jake, but he only got halfway to here before he was followed by their entire band of riders, the Hornets.. I’m not sure who was more confused; Jake by the sudden swarm of angry Hornets, or Hollis at the fact that their monster was...less than monstrous.” He points to a pool where Hollis is dangling their feet. A seal flops up beside them, then turns into a young man with a seal-pelt around his neck. Duck has several questions about how that particular sacrifice looked, but saves them for later.

“The hornets, Hollis included, now come and go, helping with security. They also help us if I identify a town that plans on...mistreating a sacrifice prior to the ceremony. They go and insure no such thing occurs.”

Duck finishes his meal as Indrid licks his plate. When the Sylph reaches for his glasses, Duck stops him.

“You, uh, you don’t gotta put those on if you don’t want.”

Indrid cocks his head, a gesture Duck is rapidly growing fond of, “You’re sure?”

Duck clears his throat, “kinda enjoyin getting to look at you like this too. Not that your human face ain’t charmin.”

Indrid chirrs shyly.

“All set.” Barclay places a large basket down in front of them. They say their goodnights, and head back to the entrance from whence they came.

“Oh, wait.” Indrid pauses, “Let me show you how to navigate, since the cavern networks can be confusing to new arrivals. All you do is touch the wall and name where you’d like to go. Here, you try.” He guides Ducks hand up in his lower right one, resting it on the stone.

“Indrids room.”

The outline of his hand glows deep green, and as he steps back it slides up, forming a circle. As they step into the cave, the light stays just ahead of them, guiding them through the twists and turns. When they arrive at a specific door, it vanishes.

Indrid touches the wall, and it slides open to reveal his room.

“What’d Barclay give you?”

“I’ll show you in a moment. Make yourself comfortable, I just need to grab a few things from my bedroom.”

Duck nestles back into the same mound of pillows, examines the contents of a shelf. Various terrariums hold plants, glowing green in faint shimmers and bursts.

“Here we are.” Indrid settles across from him, presenting him with the basket.

Opening it, surprise wells up inside him. There are several packages of sweets he knows only come from Kepler, along with his favorite pastries, still warm from Barclays oven. There are books as well, the ones he’s read time and again and could read a hundred times more. Surrounding all the smaller items are a few pieces of clothing, and just by looking at them he knows they’ll fit.

When he looks, wide-eyed, at Indrid. The Sylph has both sets of hands clasped together in excitement.

“Indrid this, this is amazin.”

“Is it? Oh I’m so glad you liked it.” Indrid chirps, claps his hands, “It’s a tradition. When I foresee a new human being sacrificed, the scouts and I piece together what things that person might want in their first days here. As I said, thinking one is going to die, even if one survives, can create a great deal of stress and emotion. We found humans had a better time if we had familiar things here to comfort them.”

“Hold up, this is my jacket. As in, the jacket they took from me when they threw me in jail.”

Indrids antennae relax a little, and he clicks his top set of claws together, “ah, yes. You liked it so much, and you looked so handsome in it that I had one of the hornets procure it for you.”

Duck beams at him, continues sorting through the box, munching on a cheese roll as he does. Indrid gives him space, putters about his cave, occasionally pausing to draw at his desk.

The exhaustion comes in one great wave, pushing Duck down. He yawns, shakes his head to clear the drowsiness from it.

“The bedroom is through there, if you need to sleep.”

Duck stands, with no small amount of effort, and waits for Indrid to do the same.

“Is everything alright?”

“I was, uh, assumin you’d be joinin me. Since you rescued me and all.”

Indrid stands, crosses to him. One set of hands cups his face, the other takes his own, “Duck, my actions today, the opening of my house to you, the gifts, those were all done because they are the right thing to do. They do not bind you to me in any way. You owe me nothing.”

“But you were pretty clearly courtin me before.”

“I was. And I would like to continue doing so. But if you wish to only be friends, we shall do that. If you wish to find somewhere else to stay, I will gladly help.”

“You’d let me go just like that?” Duck raises an eyebrow.

Indrid hesitates, then says softly, “I cannot say it would be easy for me. I am very fond of you, I love talking with you, and you are a very good kisser. But I only want you to stay, and to let me woo you, if that’s what you truly, freely desire as well.”

He wants to say yes, but a part of him nags that it’s too soon to know. That he ought to give it more thought.

“Lemme sleep on it?”

“Of course. The main bed is yours, I shall be quite comfortable out here.”

The main bed is a slightly neater looking version of the nest out front. He readies himself for bed, finds Indrid also got him pajamas, deep green and very warm.

He tries to sleep, but it’s fitful. He gets flashes of nightmares, spikes of panic in his chest. He tries to think only of pleasant things: Indrid, laughing the day they met. The feel of his lips. How he listened to Duck as though he was the most fascinating man in the world. The way he chirps when he’s excited. The feel of his feathers.

Oh, who is he kidding,

“Indrid?”

The Sylph is at the door in an instant.

“Something you need?”

Duck opens his arms, “Made my decision.”

Indrid trills happily, clambers into the nest with him.

“May I hold you?”

“Much as you want, darlin.” Strong, spindly arms envelope him, shifting him so one wing rests beneath him.

“I dreamed of this so often, and it’s a thousand times better than I ever thought it could be.”

Duck cuddles up against him, one hand stroking his side, “Damn, you’re real comfy.”

“You may use me as a pillow whenever your heart desires.”

“Gonna hold you to-” he yawns so wide his jaw hurts, “that, darlin.”

They talk quietly for awhile, and by the time his eyes shut Duck has a dozen questions, a hundred places he wants Indrid to show him, a thousand things he wants to do,

All that can wait for tomorrow. Right now, he is here, safe and warm in Indrids embrace, and that is enough.

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #promptober #au

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getitinbusan · 5 years

Text

Jungkook

Your phone kept buzzing, the incessant noise trying to come between you and your sleep was infuriating.

5 Missed calls, unknown number, there was only one way to get it to stop.

"What on earth could be so important?" You questioned without knowing who was on the other end.

"Good morning babe, are you ready for me?" The cocky voice asked.

"How the fuck did you get my personal number Jungkook?"

He laughed, "Namjoon gave it to me, I told him about our last encounter and he was pretty impressed that we shared the same taste in women"

It was your turn to laugh, "So hookers?"

You could hear him sigh.

"Listen, I thought we really had something together the other day. I'd like to take you out on a real date"

You felt your heart flutter, he was pretty much the perfect man. You could see a future with him and it scared you.

"Sorry Kookie, I don't need a boyfriend," and you hung up.

Y/N: Fuck you Joon, never give anyone my number.

Joon: You know who he is right? Kids got a ton of money and is going to break onto the scene any minute. I thought maybe it would be a new path for you, how much more of this shit can you take? We've been doing this a long time, I can feel you leaving your body when we fuck, you aren't happy Y/N.

Y/N: Jesus, is it that bad Joon?

Joon: You're still the best fuck in town, but yeah. He really likes you, maybe give it a shot. You'd be set for life and we could still have sex behind his back.

Y/N: I really don't know why, but I love you Joon.

Days went by and Jungkook never called back, it was probably for the best.

Jin tried to book you but you told the agency you were done with him and to send someone else.

Maybe it was time for a new career, or maybe it was time to settle into a mediocre relationship, you'd saved a little money, you could always just skip town.

As you sat contemplating your next move you got a text from the agency.

A: Trimage #746 @8:30. First time customer, virgin male. Will send a car to pick up.

Y/N: Is this legit? It's not Taehyung trying to get me back with a false order? How many rich horny guys are there in that building?

A: Checked out. Taehyung stopped calling a few weeks ago. Gave up after we told him you didn't want to see him anymore.

Y/N: Has he ordered someone else?

A: No, paid his account off and that was it.

Your heart felt split open again when you thought about your last night with him. He was gentle and kind, he didn't even care if you had sex with him.

BUT… you told yourself, he left you there alone after, he ran away, he made you feel things he wasn't ready to commit to. Shaking it off, you went and showered for your next appointment.

The car dropped you off in the underground and you made your way up in the elevator. A few knocks to the door and you were left in surprise when Jungkook opened it to greet you.

"I know your playing hard to get but I also know you still think of me inside you.

When Joon was fucking you, you wanted it to be me."

You're head was dizzy, feeling blindsided you weren't sure which way to steer this. He felt dominating, it had shown through a bit last time but wasn't he a virgin?

Stepping toward him you'd figure his game.

"So, you like to play innocent and naïve, pretend you have no experience in bed and then wow em with your skills huh Jungkook with the golden cock?"

He laughed at your quick summation of his agenda.

"Doesn't everyone have an angle, a game, a strange addiction?" he said tucking your hair behind your ear.

"So if this is just a fantasy game Jungkook, what's the real story? What are you escaping from? I've heard you've got everything, what do you need me for?"

He stopped, he was trying to figure out what you wanted to hear.

"Honestly Y/N, I just really enjoyed fucking you and I thought maybe we could do it because we like each other and not because I'm paying you."

You smiled at his admission, finally cutting through the bullshit.

You both lunged forward toward each other and began pulling clothes off as you made your way up the hall. By the time you got to the bedroom you were both completely bare, pushing you back on the bed he laid on top of you.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, you've fucking wrecked me for anyone else. I just need to get off and then I'll fucking eat you till your pussy's raw."

He was fucking growling with desire when he pushed his cock straight into you. He was rough, fucking you so hard his whole bed shook.

Freezing, he pulled out, "suck my cock, I want to fuck your face."

Doing as you were told, you took him in your mouth, you rocked your body back and forth gaining speed until he was hitting the back of your throat.

"Fuck Y/N, I'm going to fucking cum, can I cum on you?"

As you moaned in agreeance he shot his load all over your face. He handed you his t shirt to wipe yourself off when his phone rang.

Answering all you heard was "shit, thanks" turning to you mortified, he began throwing your clothes at you "you've gotta go, like now, my girlfriends on her way up."

You didn't move, you were 100% done with this.

Slowly reaching for your clothes you really couldn't believe this is what your life had become.

"Hurry up, get the fuck out, she'll kill me" he was in a frenzie trying to pull together the disheveled bed.

Taking your time and glaring at him as you zipped yourself up you heard her keys as she entered the apartment. He ran out closing the bedroom door behind him sealing you inside.

You could hear him cooing at her in the other room, what a fucking asshole.

Owing him nothing, you walked out and handed her his shirt full of cum, "Sorry about the sheets" you let yourself out and headed for the elevator.

It was decision time, your finger hovered over the elevator panel, were you going up or down?

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lovemychoices · 5 years

Text

Always Be My Driver - A RoD Rom-Com [Colt x MC/Logan x MC]. CH 3

Book : RIDE OR DIE

PAIRING : Colt x MC/ Logan x MC

SUMMARY: Emma and Colt have been childhood best friends since forever, they were both inseparable. In middle school they became something more but when Colt had to move with his mom away from LA all the way to Miami, things started to change between them. A small misunderstanding leads to the end of their relationship. Years later they meet again at the most unlikely place. Will Emma and Colt be able to mend what has been broken between them? Or will it continue to crash and burn?

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them

Word count : 3500 ish..

Chapter Summary: Now that Colt is back and spending the whole summer at the shop, will things get better between him and Emma?

A/N : So this chapter was sort of inspired by an episode of FRIENDS. If you’re a big fan of the comedy series than you know why. 😬 Also this is a dialogue heavy chapter. Plus I hope you can look past my grammatical errors, which must be a lot cause I haven’t done much polishing.

Warning/Triggers : Pretty safe PG-13 stuff... for now.. *Evil laughs here* But just to be safe make sure you’re 18 and above before you read this series.

Catch up with the series HERE

Dear Diary,

This past year has been awesome. I met the most amazing guy, who I am so in love with and best part is he loves me back. Made a few awesome new friends along the way, got in to the perfect school, kept up good grades, won a lot of races.. you get the whole idea.

But see here’s the thing, just when you think things are perfect, life somehow manages to find a way and kick you in the gut. Yes I’m talking about a recent visit of a certain someone from my past. Colt Kaneko. As if meeting your ex boyfriend who you haven’t seen in like forever wasn’t weird enough. Now we have to live under the same roof for the entire summer.

That’s not even the worst part, the worst part is he acts like I don’t exist. The only time he talks to me is when he has something snarky to say other than that he completely ignores me. I mean it’s not like I care. This first time I noticed this was when Colt came walking into the garage asking for a sharpie. I offered to borrow him mine, I tried to be the mature one by offering him an olive branch and you know what he did?! He gave me the look and said he’d just buy a new one from the store. I literally had on right there in front of him and he just.. He is acting like I was the bad guy and was responsible for us breaking up.

Logan doesn’t know about our history at least the part where we dated. He already can’t stand Colt, why should I stir the pot hot on something that happened when we were kids. It’s not like I’m still in love with Colt Kaneko.

I’m not in love with Colt Kaneko.

[[MORE]]

A few days later..

Okay Emma this is your chance, just walk up to him and ask him what’s his problem. You’ve tried to be nice but if he is gonna be a jerk about it..

“Colt.”

He turns around then raises an eyebrow at her.

Why are you being such an asshole to me?

“The customer with the broken tail light wants to know if his car is already fixed?”

“I’ll be out to see him in a minute.” He answers flatly.

“Ok, cool I’ll let him know.” Well that worked out great.

****

A week later..

Colt slumps on the couch in the backroom reading the latest edition of top gear while Mona sat across him busy texting on her phone when Toby enters. “Hey Colt, Mona. Ximena and I are heading out for lunch. Wanna come?”

“I just ate so I’m gonna sit this one out.” Mona replies and shift her focus back to her phone.

“Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do here anyway.” Colt responds then tosses the Megazine on the table.

“Anyone saw Logan and Emma?”

Logan and Emma walks in with their face flush and hands entwined, Emma giggles at something that Logan whispers in her ear. Colt rolled his eyes at the sight and pretends to scroll on his phone, anything to avoid looking at the two.

“Oh. Hey didn’t notice you guys were here.”

“Great timing we were just looking for both of you. Where have the two of you been?” Ximena asks raising an eyebrow at them while folding her arms.

Emma and Logan gave each other coy smiles. “We were at the loft.. getting some workout done. Gotta stay healthy these days you know.”

“Right…” Ximena answer in a skeptical voice. “So we’re about to go out for lunch. You two want to join us?”

“Oh that sounds awesome. What do you say babe?” She turns and beams at Logan.

“Yeah sure I could use a bite to eat after all that workout.” He replies emphasizing on the word followed by a grin.

Colt gave a sarcastic eye roll again. “I think I just lost my appetite.” He mutters under his breath but it was enough for Mona who’s sitting near him to hear. She raises her eyebrow but doesn’t say anything at least not yet.

“So it’s settled.. Oh I call shotgun!” Toby beams excitedly and heads for the door, the others follow behind. “Colt, aren’t you coming?” Ximena asked.

“Nah.. You guys go ahead. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do anyway.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have anything better to do a few minutes ago.” Mona pressed.

“Yeah, well I do now.” Colt retorts giving Mona glaring look.

“Alright if you say so..” and left with the others leaving Colt and Mona behind. Colt grabs the TV remote from the coffee table, surfing the channels to avoid having a conversation with Mona.

“So, What’s the deal between your and korean barbie?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb Colt, we both know you’re too smart for that. Now spill the beans or I’ll find out myself one way or the other.” She demanded with her arms crossed.

“Honestly Mona it’s none of your business. And why do you care so much?” He seethes.

Mona snorts a laugh. “I don’t.. But I like knowing things because knowing things gives you leverage. So talk junior.”

“We were friends and now we’re not. End of story, now leave me alone.” He abruptly stood up and starts walking towards the door.

“Colt,wait! I don’t know what went down between you and Emma but that was a long time ago, you were just kids and she’s been trying to reconcile since you got her.” She heaves a sigh. “All I’m saying is you’ve been friends before and I’m sure there were more good times than bad. Emma is a pretty good friend, hell don’t tell her I said this but she’s a great friend. And a friendship with her isn’t worth losing over some silly fight you had as kids.”

Colt gave Mona a thoughtful look. Who knew Mona had a soft side. I hate to admit it but maybe she’s right? He shook his head and without a word walks out, closing the door behind him.

****

A few nights later..

“Emma, oh thank God. Listen what ever happened we can fix this okay. Just talk to me please.” Colt pleaded his voice cracking.

“Colt, I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to hear excuses. We’re over for good. I’ve changed my number so don’t bother trying to contact me you won’t get through. Goodbye Colt, I hope you’ll be happy there.”

“Emma, wait!”

“How could you?”

She turns around and sees.. “Logan?”

“How could you lie to me Em, I thought we promised each other no more secrets.”

“Logan, what are you talking about?”

“I think we need a break and probably shouldn’t see each other for awhile.”

“What? Logan no wait!”

Emma wakes up covered in sweat trying to catch her breath. Logan lying next to her with her head on his chest, she could feel his chest gently rise and fall as he breathes.

She heaves a sigh of relief. It was just a bad dream.

The sound of thunder rumbling, echoes through the night sky and catches her attention.

Great as if the nightmares weren’t enough now there’s rain and thunder outside.

She closes her eyes and tries to go back to sleep but between the rumbling noise of the thunder and thinking about the dream of Colt and Logan, it just made her insomnia go into overdrive.

This is so frustrating! I can’t sleep! maybe I need some milk or a late night snack.

She gently moves Logan’s arm, careful not to wake him. She puts on a pair of bunny slippers and slip out of the room, slowly closing the door behind her before heading down stairs.

*****

The whole place was extremely quiet since everyone was asleep, the only sound she could hear was the loud continuous sound of thunder crashing in the background. She opens the door to the back room and sees Colt bending down in front of the microwave.

“Colt?”

Colt jumps at the sound of Emma’s voice with one hand pressed to his chest. “Christ! Emma you almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing down here at this hour?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She said and saunters over to the island, taking a seat on the stool. “What are you doing making popcorn at this hour?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Why would anyone make popcorn?” Colt replies in a flat voice. “So what’s got you up at this hour? Prince charming a loud snorer or something?”

“I’ll have you know he sleeps like a baby.”

“So he cries in his sleep a lot?” He grinned.

Emma rolls her eyes at him. “This was a bad idea, I’m going back to bed.” She got off the bar stool and turns toward the door.

“Em, wait.” He stops her before she could leave. Emma turns back to face him. “What now Colt?” Her voice flat when she answers. This better not be another snarky comment about Logan.

Colt nervously rubs the back of his neck. I can’t believe I’m doing this. “Look if you want, you can watch the movie with me and I’ll even share my popcorn. It’s.. melted butter and caramel.”

Damn it, that’s my favorite! Emma crosses her arms giving him a skeptical look. “What’s the catch?”

“Why’d you think there’s a catch?”

“Uh… I don’t know maybe cause you’ve been sort of a jerk and Ignoring me since you’ve got here?”

“I wasn’t being a jerk. I was just… Look do you want to watch the movie or not? Decide before I change my mind.”

Well I can’t sleep so might as well, nothing wrong with watching a movie right? “Ok fine. Only because melted butter and caramel is my favorite.” She replies and saunters over to take a seat on the couch.

Colt joins her a few seconds later handing her the bowl of popcorn.“So what are we watching?” She asked while nibbling on a piece of popcorn in her hand.

”The Conjuring.” He murmured while looking through the options on the screen.

“The what?!” She belted sitting up right from her slouched position. “There’s a real scary thunderstorm out there and you want to add to the terror by watching a horror movie?”

“It adds a cool effect to the experience Em.” He emphasized then gave her a questioning look. “You’re not still afraid of some silly storm after all these years?”

Emma throws her body back on the couch, her eyes focused on the popcorn that she keeps stuffing in her mouth.

Colt snorts a laugh. “Really Em? I thought you’d outgrow this silly fear by now.”

“I’m not afraid anymore but that doesn’t mean I like it either. Not everyone can be as cool as you Colt.” She said and gave a sarcastic eye roll.

“There first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.” He grinned.

“Can we just get this over with already? But I'm warning you if some scary shit goes down I’m jumping right at you.”

Colt shrugged. “Fine, whatever.”

The movie played on for about thirty minutes and the two watched it in silence sitting Five inches apart from each other. There were a few awkward moments in between like their hands accidentally touching while trying to grab some popcorn, both quickly shy away as they did..

As the movie progressed and got scarier Emma started to move closer to Colt closing the gap from three to two inches, her hands nervously fidgets with a lock of her hair. Colt noticed this from the corner of his eye and grinned. Damn it, she's still cute when she gets flustered. He subtly shift his body closer to her and clears his throat. “So um, how long have you been with Logan?” He bit his tongue and cringed as soon as he heard the words come out from his mouth.

“A little over a year now.” She answered. “It was at Billy’s party during senior year.”

“Billy? As in big bully Billy? Shouldn’t he have graduated by then?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“The very same, he got held back for failing a few classes. Anyway Logan was there to deliver a car to Brent. Long story short that’s how we met.” She explained and stuff a few more popcorn in her mouth.

“Hey remember that one time you kicked Billy in the nuts?” Colt recalled grinning.

Emma chuckled. “How could I forget, he was going to punch you for calling him a wuss and I guess.. My self defense instinct just kicked in.”

Colt gave a half shrug. “I could have taken him you know..”

The two shared a look before eventually bursting into laughter at the memory of that day. And there it was the sound Colt didn’t realize he missed so much until that moment. It was the sound of her laughter.

Their laughter slowly fades and there was a minute of silence before Emma decides to broach the question back. “So uh.. What about you? Do you have someone special waiting for you back in college?”

Colt gives half shrug.“I don’t really do relationships. I mean I’ve dated a bunch but nothing serious.”

“Oh. Yeah sure I completely understand.” Change the subject Emma you just made progress don’t blow it.

The two continued to chatting and laughing at stories basically ignoring the whole movie. “I really miss this you know... just talking to you.” She confeses giving him a sincere smile. “I miss talking to you too.”

A piece of popcorn got caught on Emma’s long rose gold hair and Colt reaches his hand out to take it. “You um. You have some popcorn stuck on your hair.” He said, his fingers brushed against her cheeks and there was this intense gaze between them for a moment, Emma could feel her cheeks start to blush. Shit Em look away before you do something stupid. Emma tilts her head down, averting her eyes from Colt. “We um—. Should get back to watching the movie.”

Colt blinks and shakes his head. “Yeah totally.” He agreed but there was a slight disappointment to his tone. He leans back on the couch, looking at the TV then back at Emma.

“Hey, so there’s The Conjuring 2 if you want to watch it after this?”

It was well after 2am, the rain was still heavy outside and she found the first movie one scary as shit but somehow Emma didn’t want their time together to end so soon.

“I’d like that.”

The two continued to chat as they watched the movie, both making snarky comments when a character in the movie was being stupid, sometimes debating about what the whole thing was about.

“What’s with the Nun, is it a ghost or something?” Emma asked curiously.

“It’s not really a ghost, it’s a demon. They actually already did the origin story about it.”

There was a sudden loud sound of thunder outside the building at the same time a frightening scene from the movie appeared, Emma instinctive moves right next to Colt, her hands clutching onto his arm while she buries her face in his chest.

Oh.my.god did I just bury my face in Colt’s chest? Damn it, why does he smell so good. Well this just got awkward. Maybe he didn’t notice.

She tilts her chin up and sees Colt looking at her cocking an eyebrow. “Sorry.. Reflexes” She said in a shaky voice. “Do. Do you mind?

“It’s alright.” He grinned.

Emma sits right up and raises an eyebrow at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just..I think it’s cute that you’re still afraid of a little thunder after all these years.”

“Shut up, Colt.” She said then playfully swats him on the shoulder before leaning back right next to him. Colt wiggles his arm from behind her back and wraps it around her shoulders just like old times whenever they would watch a movie together. “If you’re gonna lean on me at least give my arm somewhere comfortable to rest.”

It wasn’t long before the two eventually fell asleep laying on the couch. Colt had one arm wrapped around Emma as she lay her head on his chest.

They wake up a few hours later as the sunlight pierce through the window hitting their eyes. Colt slowly rubs his eyes and lets out a yawn, when he finally opens them he sees Emma fluttering her eyes open. Both still feeling half asleep.

Shit! Did we just fall asleep on the couch together? Damn, I forgot how cute she looks when she’s tired. Okay, play it cool like it’s no big deal.

“Morning.” He smiled.

Shit, did I just fall asleep in Colt’s arms? He’s so warm and comfortable to sleep on. Not that Logan isn’t.. Oh shit he just said good morning to me. Is he freaked out? He doesn’t seem freaked out. Play it cool Emma.

“Morning.” She sheepishly smiled back.

“Ahem!” Mona croaked.

Emma and Colt’s eyes go wide open when they realize they weren’t alone. They turn their heads to see Mona grinning with her arms folded, Ximena with her hands on her waist and Toby munching on some fruit loops.

They both sit up with a jolt, the other three continue to stand and stare. “We um… Anyone hungry?” Emma nervously chuckles, getting up from the couch. “I could really go for some omelettes and bacon.”

“I need to use the bathroom.” Colt mentions and excuses himself from the bathroom.

“So this is going to be a whole thing now?” Toby murmurs to the other two ladies.

“Apparently…” Mona replies with a grin. “Now let the games begin.”

*****

It was quiet around the table as the five ate their breakfast, so quiet that Mona could hear the sound of Toby’s teeth crushing the fruit loops in his mouth from across the table. Colt was seated in front of Emma and Mona between them, her eyes move back and forth at the two, who were awkwardly trying to avoid looking at each other for a second there they failed but quickly move their gaze away.

Ugh… Watching these two is more depressing than that finally episode of Game of Thrones. I wonder what’s going on in their heads?

What were you thinking Colt? Last night was a mistake, you weak son of a bitch! It only takes one smile.. One smile and suddenly she’s all I can think about. Who am I kidding I’ve been thinking about her since that night at the sideshow and that was before I knew who she was. It’s like we're magnets and there’s this strong force trying to pull us together.

He quickly tries to get a glance at her and it’s as if she could read his mind, she tilts her head up and gazes back at him. They both quickly avert their eyes mere seconds later. Colt shakes his head.

No You can’t do this, she broke your heart Colt. There’s a reason why You have all these walls up and You don’t plan on letting them down anytime soon. Just get through this summer as friends and nothing else. After that you won’t have to see her again.

Emma you’re such an idiot, falling asleep with Colt Kaneko, even if it wasn’t intentional and you didn’t do anything wrong but still! Why, after everything that’s happened between us, last night hanging out, it somehow still feels like home when we’re together. No! No! Get yourself together Emma you have a boyfriend who’s sweet and kind, who loves you and would never break your heart. OMG! I forgot about Logan, he already hates Colt’s guts. I can’t imagine what he would do if he found out and not just about falling asleep on the couch thing but about our history. I haven’t told him yet about the part where we dated at least and I don’t know if I should, Colt’s only going to be here for the summer then he’s back to wherever he came from. We can get through this few weeks as friends. Hmm.. Honestly I’m surprised Colt hasn’t said anything to him, since he seems to like getting into Logan’s skin.

“Morning.” Logan announces himself as he enters. He glares at Colt before taking a seat on the empty chair next to Emma.

“Morning beautiful.” He grins and kissing her on the lips. She could see Colt roll his eyes from the corner of her eye but pretends to ignore it.

“You’re dressed early today?” She smiled

“Boss needs me to get somethings done today, thought I get an early start.” He pauses to look at her. “Why aren’t you dressed? You’re usually the one who gets ready before I do.”

“Yeah.. Umm… I decided to take it slow today. Bacon?” She offers Logan a piece on her fork and he takes a bite, moaning as he did. Colt merely oggles at the site, if he keeps it up at this rate he is going to get a headache before noon.

“Aw how sweet, I’m not even pregnant and I suddenly got morning sickness just by looking at the two of you.” Mona said in a sarcastic tone.

“You jealous Mona?” Logan sneered.

Okay time to stir up some tension. Mona pretends to clear her throat. “So Colt, I heard you slept well last night. How bout you Emma? How did you sleep?”

Emma slightly chokes on her orange juice and tries to kick Mona under the table but hits Colt instead.

“Ouch! What was that for?” Colt bellowed and quirks an eyebrow at Emma.

“Sorry.. Hrk.. reflexes.” She apologizes trying to compose herself, her eyes fixed on Mona with a glare.

“Babe, you alright?” Logan asks in a concerned voice, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

“Yeah… I’m fine… totally..” I mean I fell asleep in the arms of the boy I once loved but other than that totally fine. Emma replied trying to hide how nervous she was. “I um.. need to get ready. I’ll see you when you get back?”

“Sure. I’ll be missing you till then.” Logan leans in to kiss her but she quickly gets up before he manages to. At the same time Colt gets up from his seat and walks out the opposite way.

Logan looks curiously at the group that were still seated at the table. “Did something happen while I was asleep? Everyone’s been acting weird all morning.”

“You’re reading into things too much pretty boy, nothing happened.” She answers trying to hide a grin on her face. Not yet anyway.

****

********

Tag list :

@thecordoniandiaries @leelee10898 @annekebbphotography @desiree-0816 @emceesynonymroll @jessiembruno @jlpplays1 @rainbowsinthestorm @cora-nova @kinkykingliam @furiouscloddonutpeanut

Rod - @liamzigmichael4ever @client-327 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @lilyofchoices @justdani14 @akrenich @princess-geek @flowerpowell @zaffrenotes @queenkaneko @mskaneko @princessstellaris

I’m using tags from my other series and also tagging people who are Colt and RoD stans that i think would be interested. Just Let me know if you want to be added to perma tag or a specific series tag. Or if you want to be removed from the series.

#playchoices #rod colt #rod #rod logan #rod mona #colt x mc #logan x mc #playchoice : ride or die #colt kaneko #ride or die au #playchoices ride or die #ride or die fanfiction

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blurglesmurfklaine · 4 years

Text

Cornelia Street (7/9)

A/N: oh my god they were quarantined

yes. It’s one of those fics.

AU, obvs

I’m posting as I go and idk how many parts this is going to be, likely won’t be very long but I literally don’t know what I’m doing and should i be starting yet another WIP? definitely not but fuck it lets fucking go

Title is from T-swizzles Lover album, I’m OBSESSED

Summary: Three years ago, Kurt and Blaine went on a disaster of a date and never quite got off on the right foot. Now, just before they graduate from NYADA, there’s a national outbreak and they’re both self-quarantined in a mutual friend’s apartment.

Read On AO3

On Tumblr: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Part 7

Kurt runs his hands through his hair, shaking off the last suds of his shampoo out of it before shutting off the water. Sara Bareilles’s voice is still leading him to thoughts about Blaine, and how he led him in the dance yesterday with the gentle swing of his hips.

It had been nice, to say the least. Dancing with Blaine in his arms had felt like he’d finally found the missing puzzle piece he’d been searching for his whole life. Waking up next to a still sleeping Blaine should’ve been awkward, but only felt like the most normal thing in the world, a routine that was way too easy to settle into and—

Shit.

He is in way too deep and he hasn’t even kissed Blaine yet.

Woah, yet? That’s a little presumptuous of you, isn't it?

If he’s going to. If Blaine even wants him to.

Kurt needs to stop thinking about Blaine ASAP, but his brain has made it clear that that’s not quite an option at the moment, so instead, he just turns the cold knob on the shower.

He heads to the kitchen when he’s done, and he’s met with the sight of Blaine humming along to Despacito while he finishes cleaning the dishes they’d used for dinner last night. Kurt can’t keep from cracking a smile.

“Having fun?”

Blaine, obviously a little surprised by Kurt’s presence, lifts his head and his mouth twitches up into a grin. “Actually, yeah. I used to hate doing the dishes when I was a kid, but then I got this job at a fast food pizza place. I realized that as long as I was washing dishes, I didn’t have to deal with customers. It sort of pavloved me into liking it.”

“God, that's such a mood.”

“The other explanation is that I’m training to be a fifties housewife.” Blaine shakes his head and makes a face, placing a plate on the drying rack. “Sorry, that was dumb,” he mutters.

“No, it was funny,” Kurt raises an amused eyebrow. “And if we’re going by the fifties’s standards, I suppose that makes me the workaholic husband.”

“Well, have fun at work, honey!” Blaine calls out, face twitching up into a grin as he holds back a chuckle.

Kurt walks up to the door as if he’s going to head out (which, they both know he can’t actually do) and pulls a coat still hanging on the rack by the frame of it. He drapes it over himself and waves to Blaine. “I will, make sure to pick up the kids early from school today!”

“Oh yeah, little Feta has a soccer tournament this afternoon, doesn’t he?”

“Feta?” Kurt raises an eyebrow.

Blaine shrugs. “Yeah, like fettuccine Alfredo? Alfredo is a valid name.”

“Okay, if you get to name our son that then I’m naming our daughter Audrey, as in Audrey Hepburn.”

“I support that.”

“Now that our kids have proper names, I suppose I should be getting to work, huh?” Kurt asks. “Those taxes aren’t going to file themselves. And I have a long commute from here to the computer.”

He turns to leave, but Blaine laughs and quickly grabs the nearly empty box of cereal on the table and holds it out towards Kurt. “Wait! Don’t forget your briefcase!”

“Silly me! How could I forget, thank you!”

Kurt doesn’t even think about it—he’s too into this strange and weirdly fun game they’ve set up. As Blaine hands him the cereal box in lieu of a fake briefcase, Kurt tucks it underneath his arms and leans forward to press a quick peck to Blaine’s lips. Blaine reciprocates, lightly placing a hand behind Kurt’s neck.

It isn’t until they pull away that Kurt realizes what he’s done.

They go absolutely still for a moment, eyes locked, neither daring to move any closer or further from the other.

Kurt wonders for half a second if he accidentally crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

And then the next half of the second Blaine’s lips are on his, hands grabbing desperately at his waist, so sudden and intense that the momentum sends them stumbling backwards a little. They don’t stop until Kurt’s back hits the table, and he sinks his hand into Blaine’s satin soft curls.

The gesture elicits a small gasp from Blaine, who slides his hands down Kurt’s back and tugs so that their bodies are flush against each other’s. Kurt reciprocates, pulls him closer, kisses him harder until they’re just this chaotic bundle of bumping noses and roaming hands.

They finally pull away, Kurt’s blue eyes wide as a prairie because he had wondered if Blaine was picking up on the same thing he was and… well, he certainly doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

“Sorry,” Blaine mumbles, shaking his head with a sheepish smile on his face. “I uh, don’t know what came over me.”

Kurt doesn’t hesitate to pull Blaine back in for another embrace. “Me neither,” he breathes. And in all honesty, he doesn’t really care. All he knows is that this quarantine thing just got a lot more bearable.

“I don’t think you’re playing this right.”

“Nonsense, I used to play this every day at lunch with the New Directions. Cards were easily the best way to pass the time. Santana even showed us this one game called Chingasos… which is surprisingly violent for a card game…”

After making out for… quite a long time (like, a really, really long time, not that Blaine’s complaining), they’d set some blankets down in the living room floor and exchanged card games.

Kurt is currently sitting across from Blaine, cross legged and explaining the rules of Spits as they play. There are two piles, and the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards by placing them on top of either pile, but only in numerical order. If both piles have the same number card, you could slap the top of the piles, say “spits”, and the opponent would have to take all the cards.

They both place 2s on either piles of cards, and Blaine jumps to press his hands flat on top of them. Kurt has been playing this game for years, though, and is too quick for Blaine, so his hands land on top of Kurt’s instead of the cards.

“Eat ‘em and weep,” Kurt says with a cocky grin, shoving the pile of cards towards Blaine.

“Isn’t it read ‘em and weep?”

“You’re stalling.”

Blaine mocks a scoff, mostly because he is. “Are you implying that I’m causing a distraction in order to prevent my loss?”

“Okay, nobody talks like that, you’re definitely stalling.”

“No, this is stalling,” Blaine says. He tugs Kurt’s hands and rolls backwards on the blankets, pulling Kurt on top of him and leaning up to kiss him and abandoning their card game. He can feel the smile in Kurt’s lips and can’t contain a grin of his own.

When they finally release each other, Kurt lets out a contented sigh and rests his head on Blaine, draping his arms over his body, fitting in in every space Blaine didn’t even know was waiting to be filled.

“This is gonna sound weird, and kind of random… but I feel really safe with you,” Kurt says.

Kurt’s head, resting on Blaine’s chest, lifts when he laughs.

“Heard that, coronavirus?” he jokes. “Actually,” he continues, starting to absentmindedly trace shapes on Kurt’s back with his finger. “It’s funny that you say that, because you kind of make me feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.” He realizes that may not have come out exactly as he wanted it to. “I mean, like, in a good way. Not in a I’m worried you’re going to push me off way.”

“You’re probably just about the only person I can stand in a ten mile radius, currently, so I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“What about Adam?” Blaine finds himself asking. His heart is a canon in his chest, and he wants to pretend he doesn’t know why he asked that question, but he knows exactly why.

He’s falling fast and hard for Kurt, and if he runs back to Adam the moment Blaine stops being his only choice, again, it’s going to suck. He’s heard stories about people who got stuck in elevators for twelve hours and then eloped the second they were rescued. And then the inevitable divorce that followed.

Blaine doesn’t want Kurt to want him because he’s bored; he wants Kurt to want him the same way he wants Kurt.

“Adam and I over for a reason,” he finally replies calmly.

The urge to just stupidly blurt out Which is? is so strong, and Blaine’s honestly surprised he doesn’t. Apparently, though, his silence is enough of a cue for Kurt to continue.

“I—and feel free to stop me… if it gets too weird or too–if you don’t want to hear this.”

“You can say anything to me,” Blaine answers without hesitation. Kurt’s cheeks pressing harder against Blaine’s chest tell him that he’s smiling.

“Okay… I think I just got swept up in the idea of finally being in a relationship, or of finally having someone who wanted me that I didn’t care if we weren’t necessarily right for each other. I mean, at the time I certainly didn’t have enough experience to know that it wasn’t right.”

Blaine hummed in encouraging agreement, urging Kurt to keep going.

“I think we were both hoping the other would evolve into the person we wanted them to be, if that makes sense. Like, I’m… I’m pretty naturally guarded. I don’t always wear my heart out on my sleeve and I think that bothered him.”

Blaine nods. Though he doesn’t feel like Kurt is particularly withholding around him, he can see why people would think that. Kurt has told Blaine all about what he endured during high school. That would be enough to make anyone a little wary of the world.

“And I don’t know if there are just parts of me I wasn’t willing to share because I’d be sharing them with him,” Kurt continues. “But there were parts of my life—little things, I’m not in like organized crime or anything—that were just for me. I’m fairly social, but if I needed an hour alone after he had friends over, he took it really personally.

“On the other hand, I always thought he took life way too seriously. Every single show or song we listened to had to have some sort of profound deeper meaning or else he labeled it as trash. What an exhausting way to live!”

Blaine chuckles. “I know what you mean. I dated Sebastian for a while, and he would constantly talk about his summer trips to Europe, which was interesting at first but after a few weeks I realized that that seemed to be the entire focal point of his personality.”

Kurt laughs. “Yeah…”

“Anyways, you were saying?”

“Oh, right... well, back in December I was watching When Harry Met Sally with Rachel and it was that scene where Sally says “We never do fly off to Rome at a moment’s notice”. And I just… realized. I went to get things from his place that night and applied to live in the NYADA dorms again for the next semester.

“I guess it was just never right with Adam. It took me way too long to figure it out. I think I might’ve figured it out sooner if we’d finished our date,” he mumbles absently, like he’s just thinking out loud.

Blaine has to bite his cheek to keep from smiling so damn hard.

They lay in easy silence for a moment, holding each other until a high pitched tinny noise interrupts them. Kurt whips out his phone and Blaine sees the Snapchat notification.

“Oh my god,” he sputters out incredulously.

“They really made a Quarantine filter,” Kurt says in awe.

Kurt unlocks his phone and presses the button to access the filter. It’s greyscale, with a blinking red dot in the corner, like it’s supposed to mimic a found footage movie. At the bottom of the screen is written “Day ___ of Quarantine”.

“Come on, let's take a picture,” Kurt says, casually hiking an arm behind Blaine’s neck and settling his head higher up in Blaine’s chest. He quickly snaps the picture of them cuddled up together.

Blaine watches Kurt, grinning when he types out the caption in two separate blocks of text.

Do you have your quarantine buddy?

Yes, I have my quarantine buddy.

Part 8

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #cornelia street #MY BAD YALL IM GONNA TRY AND FINISH IT WITHIN A WEEK TO MAKE UP FOR IT LMAOOOOOOO

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