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taekookielove0130 · 1 year

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Marry me? | JJK x Reader Ch 1

"You made me question every damn thing I've been taught to believe from the very beginning. Doesn't that make you special enough?"

_____________________________________________________

Yn POV

The breeze brushes past me as I gently inhale the scent of invigorating coffee lingering in the shop. I sigh and tuck the strands of hair as I stare out through the window.

A typical day in my life. Wake up at 6. Workout for a while. Eat breakfast. Study. Work at the coffee shop from 5 to 7 pm. Go home. Eat, sleep, and repeat. Well, the sleep part isn't too prominent. But that isn't the point.

Oh, and did I mention college? Yeah, I'm working to earn the money I need alongside doing my PGs. Today, in particular, has been quite stressful.

With the new month approaching, the house owner has been pestering me about the rent. Today, he decided to drop a bomb on me by saying I have to move out.

Apparently, his daughter, who was living in the US, is now returning to spend a few days here. I only have a month to find a new place to live. And since it's the last semester of my last year at college, I have a LOT going on at the moment.

A voice calling out my name breaks me out of my reverie, and I turn to see my best friend waving at me. I wave back and wait for her to join me at my table.

Ha-Joon and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. Born to parents who are good friends, going to the same school and growing up in the same neighborhood, she has always been the sister I never had.

As both of us had the same passion when it came to fashion, we both followed our dreams and pursued a degree in our field of interest. Since I wanted to do a PG course and get a professional degree and she didn't, I am studying while she is working.

"Yah! Where were you? You told me you'd come at 7 and see the time now." I ask her with a glare as she sets her bag down on the table and sits.

Sighing, she says, "I know. I promised to be here at 7 and now it's 7:30. I was late because my ex just bumped into me as I was coming here."

Frowning, I decide to...

"Okay. So before you even think of scolding me..." she says, giving me a look.

See what i said? She knows me far too well.

"I didn't let him charm his way back into my life. He let me go once, and that's it. " she continues staring into my eyes.

"That's right. He doesn't deserve you." I agree giving a satisfied smile.

"Exactly what I thought. Now, what do you have to say about not getting ready?" She cocks her brows at me as I frown in confusion.

"Oh My Fucking God! You forgot again didn't you?"she asks and places her fist above her chest, gasping.

Drama queen. But yeah, I did forget that we have a party to attend tonight. One of our friends from college has gotten a job at Flowers and Seasons after months of applications and rejections.

He has decided to throw a party and since it's on a Friday night, I wouldn't say no to starting the weekend with a drink and he basically threatened our friendship if I didn't go, I agreed to it.

The party starts at 9, and we need to go and get ready now unless we plan on being late and having our heads bitten off.

"I did forget. I'm sorry, today was just way too stressful than usual." I say wincing, rubbing my temples.

"Aw. My baby is tired."she coos at me and hugs me sideways as I sigh and hug her back.

"Okay. Let's go now." I say, standing up.

This day can only get better from here, right?

_______________________________________________

Jungkook POV:

Leaning against the railing, I run my hands through my hair as I scroll through the texts and the calls I haven't answered.

More than 20 missed calls, mostly from my mother and a few of my friends. I texted my friends that I'm already here before i opened the chat with my mother. She's asking me where I am and berating me for leaving without even listening to what they had to say.

Seriously? My dad just decided to step down and hand his title and all the responsibilities that come with it to me without even asking me if I was ready. Typical of my parents to make decisions for me without considering my thoughts or my emotions...

In all of the 30 years I've lived so far, not once have I had my parents ask me what I would like. Not like I expect them to. Being the only son of the best mob boss of South Korea does teach you not to expect good things in life.

All this time, I've been taught that emotions are weaknesses. Love can only make you weak. I do understand the truth in that statement. My cousin, who got married last week to the live of his life, got killed because he couldn't afford to maintain his position in our empire.

Only a marriage like my parents' can survive in our world. A marriage of convenience. One without love. A facade. A symbiosis where both gain something by living together. I do know all of this. I understand it, too.

But why did my heart skip a beat when my eyes met hers for the first time? Why did I feel like I wanted to see the world through her brown orbs instead of the dark, expressionless black that mine are? And most importantly, why did I think she was the one I was meant to meet? I need answers to all these questions, and that's exactly what drew me to her.

___________________________________________________

Yn POV

I'm shaken out of my shocked state by Ha-Joon who looks at me with a questioning look and follows my line of vision to see the object of my desire and looks back at me with understanding in her eyes. She rolls her eyes and fans her face in a dramatic show of "hot" and smirks at my giggle before turning back to face the table.

I can totally relate to her. The guy that's sat across from us at the bar looks like he just jumped right out from one of my fictional novels.

With perfectly-gelled jet black hair and a casual look on with the black jacket thrown over his white tee and blue jeans, he looks so hot that I would jump his bones right now if I weren't so scared of the others' reactions.

Shit. No. No, no, no. I did totally not think about that right now. I take a deep breath and am sure that my face just turned so red that it would give tomatoes a run for their money and try to forget about him and tune in to the conversation about the model that has asked one of our friends to design her dress.

A few minutes pass, and I know I can't concentrate anymore. Understanding that what I need right now is a drink, I excuse myself from the table and pad across the room to the bar.

Sitting down, I wait for the bartender and am shocked again as a figure makes its way to me and maneuvers into the seat next to me.

Settling down, he turns to face me and flashes me a smirk before extending his hand.

"Jeon Jungkook." he says in his deep baritone that has wetness gushing between my legs that makes me want to rub my thighs together. Clearing my throat, I try to control my reaction and regulate my breathing.

"Lee Y/n. " I say, flashing him a nervous smile, proud of the fact that my voice doesn't break.

"A bone dry martini for me and.." he pauses, turning to me.

"I'll have the same, please," I say, turning and flashing a smile to the bartender before he leaves.

I turn to face the model-like man next to me and notice him cocking his eyebrow at me.

"You sure you wanna try that drink? It's a bit too strong." he questions as I smirk at him before saying

"I'm tougher than you may think, mister."

Smirking back he asks,

"So y/n. What brings a lovely lady like you to the bar on a Friday night?"

"Can't a girl just enjoy her youth in a bar with her friend?" I shoot back and see that amused expression on his face at my response.

Letting out a tiny giggle I say, "We're actually here for a friend's party. I couldn't concentrate on the conversation at the table, so I just wanted to take a break." I answer genuinely.

A few minutes later, we've both had plenty of drinks, and I've loosened up gradually. I'm pretty comfortable around him now. And he is actually an interesting person.

He's been filling me in with a lot of funny memories from his childhood, along with pieces of information about who he really is.

I now know that he's the son of Mr. Jeon, who is currently South Korea's most dangerous mob boss.

To be honest, I was quite surprised at the information. Scared? Not really. Being friends to one of the top mob bosses' daughters does that to you. Before you ask, yes. Ha-joon's dad is a mob boss. It's a very dangerous one at that.

I'm broken out of my musings as a hand appears in my peripheral. Following it, I stare transfixed as Jungkook stands there looking at me with a charming smirk.

"Care for a dance?" he asks.

Glancing back, I can see Ha-Joon talking to one of our friends. Understanding by her animated way of talking, I see she is quite comfortable.

Making my decision, I turn back to Jungkook and slip my hand into his after giving him a smile. The warmth in his soft hands amaze and somehow shock me at the same time.

"Sure," I say. Clasping my hand tightly in his hand, he starts to make his way to the dance floor.

The song is one for a slow dance. He turns back to me with an unreadable expression on his face, his eyes sparkling due to the lights of the dance floor.

Looking into my eyes for permission, I understood what he was asking when he slipped his hands around me, hovering over my waist but not touching.

Suppressing the smile and hiding the happiness such a sweet gesture caused in me, I answer him by thread both my hands behind his neck, pulling him closer.

Once again, I am impressed by his build. This man definitely works out. Suppressing the shiver that passes through me at his body, I understand that admiring such a man from a distance was fine but feeling it this close to me and having the privilege of running my hands over it was a whole different thing.

I don't have much time to dwell, though. He immediately wraps his arms around my waist, bringing me closer.

The warmth from his hands seeps past the thin fabric of my dress and makes me shiver with anticipation.

Looking up, I can already see him staring into my eyes. As we slowly begin to sway along with the music, I am starting to get mesmerised by his eyes.

His gaze darkens further as I move even closer, pushing my body up against his as someone pushes me into him.

When I clear myself of the drunk state his gaze causes and start to move away, he locks his hands around me, caging my body with his in an almost - protective cocoon.

The look in his eyes is overpowering, and I find myself submitting to his will against the nagging voice in my head.

We sway with the music for what seems like eternity, but in actuality, it is nothing but a few minutes.

As the song ends, I still can not find it in me to look away and have to wait for a few minutes until the inebriated state clears.

Just as I think the night was over, along with the dance and the amazing time I spent with this man, he shocked me with his words.

Lowering his head to my height and placing his lips next to my ear, he presses an open-mouthed kiss against my skin there.

As I shiver, I can feel him smiling or rather smirking (since I haven't seen this guy full-flown smiling yet) against my skin.

A few more minutes pass before I hear the deep timbre of his voice whisper against my head,

"YN, will you marry me?”

Author note:

Hey!

Was the first chap was good enough that you want to read the story? And what do you think will happen next? Was Jungkook serious? Will Yn agree? What do you think? Let me know!

And, I'm taking requests! Just message me privately or drop a comment.

Hope you have a great day!

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miserablekingsteve · 1 year

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You’re my kinda lover; Part 1 Steve’s POV 1/1 Part 2 Eddie's POV 1/2

Rating: T Word count: 5k Also read on AO3

“You’re telling me, you’ve never seen Eddie perform??” Robin squawked one day at Steve in Family Video. It was a slow Thursday afternoon in May, the wind howled at the door, which made the bell jingle ominously.

He flicked the magazine he was reading and sighed, “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“How? You guys are friends? Aren’t you?” Robin pressed, leaning back against the counter and staring at him for an answer.

He gulped, sitting up straighter in his seat so he could hide his face in the pages of the glossy paper. Sure, he and Eddie were friends, but not that close. Like, they’d gotten high and hung out, but nothing more than superficial cigarette smoking and chatting.

“Look! Not all of us can become everyone’s closeted lesbian best friend. There’s tension, it’s… it’s a lot harder for us,” Steve explained dully, face still hidden from his best friend.

She scoffed at his answer, deep red painted nails pulled the magazine away from his face, “Look, he’s got a show coming up at the end of the month. I dare you to get close enough to have him invite you, because he’s…” She sighed dreamily and her gaze was far away, “Magical.”

“Slow your rocker there, Buckley. Sounds like you’re falling in love with him,” Steve chuckled, knowing that there was no way in hell that would ever happen.

“Yeah, well, you tell me after you see him,” Robin arched an eyebrow at him daringly.

“Fine, I take your damn dare, now would you drop it,” Steve agreed begrudgingly.

“Yes!” Robin yipped, fist pumping the air.

The rest of their shift went just as any regular Thursday would go after that. Some bashful dad brought in his screaming children, they rented Back to the Future and he left them a tip just for dealing with the loud noises. An old lady came and rented some black and white movie Steve didn’t recognise, but Robin was all over. It neared close, and the bell rang once more before they could lock up. Steve turned his head from the elastic he’d been twirling between his finger and the counter.

“Hiya, big boy,” Eddie Munson drawled, leaning over the counter with his hands joined and an enormous grin spread over his lips.

“Hmph,” Steve greeted, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach from the casual return of the metalhead's trademark nickname for him.

“Eddie!” Robin called, joining them in a sliding halt from the back.

“What are we getting tonight?” Eddie asked, curiously searching the back to see if the girl had put a movie aside for them.

“It’s a surprise,” She singsonged, which caused the curly haired man to roll his eyes.

“Well, Steve, are you joining us tonight?” Eddie asked, just as he always did on Thursday’s, it was Robin and Eddie’s movie night and he’d been avoiding going for reasons he’d rather not think about.

“Um,” He was going to decline but then remembered Robin’s dare from earlier, “Yes, I am.”

Eddie’s brows shot up into his bangs, those huge eyes searched Steve’s face for the punchline, which never came.

“Right-o, Steve,” Eddie clapped, rubbing his hands together as if he was concocting a plan, “Hope you like horror movies.”

“How do you know I picked a horror movie?” Robin asked, an incredulous look on her face.

Eddie just grinned before turning around to saunter out, “You always do, Buckley. If I was someone else, I’d think you were trying to snuggle up to me or something.”

“Can it, Munson,” Robin retorted, flipping the metalhead off. Steve just stared at them with his mouth agape, their friendship was—oh how had Robin put it last year? Something about Carinthian. Doesn’t matter. It was an enigma to Steve.

“What did you rent?” Steve asked, eyes still focused on Eddie’s van as the mad man whirled around in the parking lot manically.

“Evil Dead,” Robin produced the VHS from behind her back. Steve took in the cover, no recognition of it passed through his mind, not even maybe seeing it play at a drive thru when he was on a date.

“Cool, I’ve never seen it,” Steve supplied, even though he knew Robin already knew that.

She smiled at him before hopping over the counter to sweep the floors before they had to cash out and lock up. Steve rolled his eyes at her, his head shook with a laugh as he clicked the button on the yellowing till that closed it down for the night.

It took them under an hour to finish everything up and lock the door. The darkened building solemnly wished him and Robin a till next time.

Robin practically skipped over to Steve’s parked BMW, dust and other grime having collected on the sides of her from the day spent there. He hated leaving her parked there all day, preferring to park her on the street, but he was able to keep an eye on the car if she was parked in the lot.

“Come on!” Robin whined, wiggling the handle back and forth as she waited for Steve to unlock the doors.

“I’m coming. Jesus, hold your horses,” He muttered, keys dangling as he pushed the correct one into the lock.

“Alright! To the trailer park!” Robin whooped as she threw herself into his car, not even wiping her shoes before she got in.��

“Are we really about to go to the same place that gnarly ass gate opened up, and Eddie almost died, to watch a horror movie?” Steve questioned, shivers ran up his spine as the memories of last year creeped into his mind.

“I mean. At least we don’t have to live there,” Robin joked hesitantly, her gaze drawn outside and she waved goodbye to the store as they pulled out onto the empty downtown street.

“I guess so,” Steve muttered, he pressed his foot on the gas and made the familiar path to Eddie’s home.

Steve parked in the overgrown visitor lot, rusted bikes and old toys tossed in the other spot. The sun had long since set by then and there was hardly any light in the neighborhood, besides the cast of light from people's windows who were making dinner in their homes. He tried not to stare inside of the homes, curiosity getting the best of him. It was interesting when he saw the vastly different ways people lived; cozy and close together, warm lights, dinners cooked with family, watching a movie together.

The feeling of kinship he’d never had at home. It made him jealous. He shook his head and pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his Levi’s.

Robin hopped up the creaking steps that led to Eddie’s front door. Steve stalled, standing a few steps behind his friend. He threw a glance toward Max’s trailer, a small light on in the living room, a soft smile glinted on his cheeks from just knowing that she was alive and okay.

“Well, well, well,” Eddie’s drawling voice interrupted the otherwise quiet park. Steve turned his head back to his destination and felt something catch in his throat. Eddie was leaning in the doorway; the man’s pale biceps exposed by the black muscle tee he was wearing, long black curls fell over his shoulders, glinting in the night showing he must’ve recently had a shower.

“Heya Harrington,” Eddie smirked, one of his canines peaked out from his mouth. Steve felt his stomach flutter with butterflies, he rested his hands on his hips and huffed out a laugh.

“What? Surprised I actually showed up?” Steve arched an eyebrow and flashed his flirt of the year grin at the metalhead. Usually that garnered a flush and bashful duck from the ladies, but not Eddie. Steve would have to try harder.

“Nope! Come on in you two,” Eddie clapped, swirling around and holding the door open for them.

Steve scuffed his shoes off on a worn welcome mat. Eddie was still wearing his white sneakers, so Steve assumed it was safe to keep his own on. Steve let his eyes wander around the living room of the Munson trailer; there was a shelf hanging next to the kitchen all sorts of mugs littered the multiple levels, the overhead light on the oven was on, and the whole place had an aroma tomato soup which was probably coming from the abandoned pot on the stove.

“Popcorn? Beer?” Eddie asked, voice higher than normal with what Steve assumed was excitement.

“I’ll have a beer,” He smiled, leaning against the kitchen’s island. He tried to catch Eddie’s gaze but was out of luck. The man was bouncing around the kitchen, humming to himself as he pulled out a pot.

“Sure, yeah! They’re in the fridge!” Eddie waved toward the fridge, distracted by whatever he was doing on the stove.

Robin, who had been quieter since they’d gotten inside the house, opened the fridge. She handed Steve a beer, grabbing two more for herself and their host.

“What’s he doing?” Robin hissed, handing the beers to Steve to open them. Shrugging as he pulled the bottle opener he had on his keychain.

“What’re you doing?” Steve asked, sidling up next to Eddie and peering over his basically bare shoulder. He saw that ever present grin slide onto Eddie’s face, eyes flickering around as he pulled out measuring spoons and a bottle of oil.

“Making popcorn?” Eddie’s brow arched, sticking his tongue out to the corner of his mouth in concentration as the oil drizzled out into the bowl of the spoon.

“In a pot?” He asked, leaning casually against the counter and watching curiously. Eddie nodded wordlessly, pouring a cup of kernels into the pot and topping it off with another tablespoon of oil.

“So!” Eddie put the lid to cover the heating kernels, “Whatcha rent, Buckley?”

“Evil Dead,” Robin declared, holding the VHS up from her spot on the old brown couch. Her converse clad feet were resting on a worn coffee table. Steve was in awe of the comfortability the girl had in Eddie’s house. Much more than his own, and they were best friends. He tried to will away the flare of jealousy that burned in his stomach.

“Ahh ha, a classic,” Eddie jumped over the arm and crouched next to her, reaching out and swiping the cassette from her hands.

“You’ve seen it?” Steve asked, still standing in the kitchen where he’d been left.

“Of course, saw it when it came out in theaters at Starcourt,” Eddie muttered as his eyes perused the back blurb. Steve nodded silently and pushed off the counter to settle in an equally lived-in armchair, the stale smell of cigarettes wafted out from the fabric.

Steve opened his mouth to reply and say something about Scoops Ahoy, but was startled by the sudden sound of popping.

“Jumpy, huh?” Eddie chuckled, pushing himself up from the crouching position he was in.

Steve felt like an idiot as he gaped, struggling to find a response to the metalhead’s comment. Robin smirked at him from her comfortable spot, the girl having slumped further into the cushions. He raised a brow at her and took a long sip from his beer. When had he decided to flirt his way into getting an invitation to Eddie’s show? Steve doesn’t remember, and yet that was exactly what he was doing.

The aroma of fresh popcorn filled the space, there was clanging from the kitchen where Steve assumed Eddie was stirring in the butter. He peeked over the island and watched, Eddie flung his hair over his shoulder, Steve gulped as his eyes followed the line of muscle that formed when the curly haired man tightened his grip on a white plastic bowl. He felt his face heat from the blush that was blossoming over his cheeks, looking away quickly and focusing on thumbing at the label of his beer. The condensation made it a lot easier to mess with it, little bits of wadded up paper landing in his lap.

“So, we’ve got beer and popcorn,” Eddie announced, standing with the bowl in between his forearm and hip, “Anyone for a little herbal refreshment before we get this show on the road?”

“I’m in,” Steve responded, a bit too quickly in his mind. Robin and Eddie didn’t seem to think so, both grinning at him.

“Ahhh, if only younger me could see me now, smoking marijuana with King Steve and some band nerd,” Eddie chuckled, bending down to place the popcorn on the table.

Steve watched the metalhead rummage around in a small tin that was on the table, humming a noise of satisfaction when he pulled up a freshly rolled joint.

Robin groaned dramatically as she picked herself from the couch to follow Eddie out to the front stoop, Steve tight on her heels.

“We can’t smoke inside?” Steve asked, an observation he was wondering about because there were ashtrays in the house.

“Nah, Buckley hates it,” Eddie mumbled, lips holding the weed between them. The metalhead brought a lighter up to the twisted end and sparked the flame. Steve watched him take in a deep breath, chest rising and then heavily letting go of the thick smoke, he let out a cough and smiled at Robin before passing it off to her.

“Thanks,” She muttered, her leg tapped with anxiety and anticipation as she hit the joint. She coughed more than Eddie, but that was expected.

As Robin passed him the smoking stick Steve felt his own anxiety creeping up the back of his neck, he tried to keep his focus on the actual motions of taking a hit instead of whether or not he’d cough. He’d smoked weed before, but after the Russians, not in a very long time.

"Alright, pass it along, Harrington,” Eddie pressed impatiently, fingers held out and scissoring at the joint.

Steve didn’t answer, mind engrossed inhaling the smoke easily to further impress Eddie. When he was sure most of the smoke was out of his lungs, he passed it off to Eddie before he could start coughing, which would most likely result in dropping the fragile paper into the damp grass below his feet.

Eddie thanked Steve, then he felt it, the burn rolling up his esophagus treacherously. He brought his elbow up to his mouth and hacked into it twice, eyes watering when it finally subsided.

“Dammit,” Robin cursed, producing a couple of bills from her pocket and handing them off to Eddie. Steve looked between them incredulously.

“What the hell did you even bet on? If I would smoke the damn thing or?” Steve chastised, that sick embarrassment rolled around his stomach along with the few sips of beer he’d had.

“What, no, we bet on whether you’d literally die from smoke inhalation or not,” Robin explained quickly, reaching a hand out to comfort him.

“Oh, well, isn’t that just like a given,” Steve felt his stomach settle, watching Robin as she took another hit and coughing more than she had before.

“Not necessarily,” Eddie piped up from where he’d quietly been holding in his last hit. Steve turned to look at the other man. He realized Eddie had bet that Steve wouldn’t cough very much, and butterflies erupted in his stomach.

“So, you bet I wouldn’t?” Steve drawled, leaning heavily onto one foot in a flirty stance. He could’ve sworn a blush bloomed on Eddie’s cheeks, but it was too dark outside for him to really tell.

“Yeah, man. I’ve sold to Tommy for the untouchable King Steve parties way back in the day,” Eddie answered truthfully. Steve’s heart fell at the mention of his old self, then he remembered all the late night walks they accidentally bumped into each other, sharing a joint then and he smiled, liking the idea that those hang outs were his and Eddie’s secret.

“Right,” Steve chuckled, anxiously rubbing at the back of his neck. Taking another hit and then passing it quickly to Eddie, their fingers knocked against each other and a spark shot up his arm.

The metalhead smiled at him in thanks and said nothing more, just taking the last few drags of the joint and squashing it below his foot. Steve followed behind Eddie and Robin back inside the warmth of the trailer, the April air cooling rapidly and the smell of petrichor hit his nose.

“Let's get this started!” Eddie clapped, reaching down and grabbing the VHS to slip into the tape player.

Robin settled into the couch on the right corner, Steve went to sit down but remembered his beer was left on the island counter. He turned to grab it and when he swiveled back around, Eddie had plopped himself right in between Robin; she poked at him and said something, which in turn made both of them throw their heads back and laugh.

Steve frowned, feeling left out. When he thought back on it, The two of them had invited him to this more than once, he’d just always had babysitting duties or he just was exhausted from work.

“Don’t be shy,” Eddie patted the spot next to him and threw his feet up onto the coffee table, his own beer in hand.

“Why would I,” Steve muttered as he bent down and finally settled into the couch cushions. It was damn comfortable, he wiggled himself a bit more and finally let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in.

“Thanks for letting me come,” Steve whispered as the trailers started, Robin reached behind Eddie and stuck her finger in his ear. He swatted her away before clutching her hand to squeeze in thanks. She scrunched her nose, then jumped when a loud noise came from the TV.

“No problem, man,” Eddie said, eyes distracted by watching the scenes playing in front of him.

Steve smiled gratefully and he took a sip of his beer, waiting for the movie to begin. The wonky camera movements made his head spin, but he was intrigued, to say the least. Growing up, he had had no one around to watch horror movies with him and Tommy always was too chickenshit to go with him to see any. Then everything with the Upside Down happened, and he’d just thought they were pointless after that.

Eddie looked excited though the longer the movie progressed, bouncing when the 5 friends in the car arrived at the cabin they were staying at, which Steve rolled his eyes at only because he knew most if not all of them were going to be dead by the end of the movie.

Steve polished off his beer, and stood to grab another, “Round 2?” He asked, eyes on Robin and Eddie.

“Yes, please!”

“Why not,”

Eddie and Robin said at the same time, the two of them looked at each other and started laughing, talking over the movie and making fun of a character by name. He leaned over and grabbed the beers, cracking the caps off on the island before passing them to his friends.

“Y’know, you guys can talk during the movie, I don’t care,” Steve announced as he sat back down. Eddie’s gaze was stuck on his face and he tried not to stare right back; those dark brown eyes burrowing into the side of his face and a surprised grin snuck onto those flush pink lips.

Steve took in a quiet, deep breath before he settled back into his seat. Eddie’s thigh pressed right against his own and his bare arm was looped over the back of the couch playing with a loose thread. He was acutely aware of the metalhead’s proximity; it made his heart stutter and his mouth dried up. The last time he’d had this feeling was, Jesus, maybe Nancy? But the way Eddie was sitting was so different, he was used to being in the other man’s position.

He was high. That’s the only explanation he had for what he did next, he leaned back and whispered a comment into Eddie’s ear. He relished when he saw the pink tinge on the tips of them. Ha, one point to himself. The sweet blush stayed there and other than the slight discoloration, the metalhead seemed fine, smiling at Steve and huffing out a laugh, nudging him with his knee.

“Totally, man,” Eddie muttered. Robin eyed the two of them curiously and leaned over to get closer on the couch.

“You guys can’t keep secrets from me, what the hell,” She hissed while a character on screen was creeping through the woods.

“I just said her pants looked uncomfortable,” Steve rolled his eyes at his best friend, shifting as he got squished more and more into the couch arm, “Can you guys scoot a bit, I’m getting crammed up against the arm.”

“Eddie doesn’t have cooties, Steve,” Robin sighed, but she shuffled over so the metalhead could take up more space on her side.

Steve relished in his new found space and wiggled around to finally settle in, even though they were about 30 minutes into the movie. His cheeks were warm, head foggy, and he felt comfortable. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt this at peace in a group setting, but it was nice. His muscles continued to relax and he let his head loll backward right onto Eddie’s forearm, which still was cradling the back of the couch. A pattering in his chest kicked off and ran as he waited for the man to pull away, but he never did, so Steve relaxed again.

As the movie kicked off, Steve could feel his eyes closing and his head bobbing, then his eyes fell shut and he was asleep. Nothing in his dreams except the quiet dark. He doesn’t know how long he’d drifted off for, but he was awakened by the gentle caress of someone’s thumb on his hip, it was soft and barely there but he’d been drawn enough to it to be pulled out of his nap. The movie, surprisingly, was still going, and the thumb, well the thumb, belonged to none other than Eddie Munson, who’d wrapped an arm around him and held him up in his sleep.

“You missed the best part,” Eddie mumbled, voice low and rumbled deep out of his chest.

“Mhm, what was that?” Steve yawned, throwing his arms up in a stretch, letting his body shift closer into the metalhead’s side.

“Guess we’ll just have to watch it again, Big Boy,” Eddie mumbled. Steve’s stomach fluttered with excitement, point what 4 or 5 to Munson.

Steve hummed his response and curled in closer to Eddie, the weed still fuzzing his mind and making the new onset of flirting with a man much easier. He heard a choked off snore from Eddie’s other side, coming from Robin who was sound asleep, mouth open and puffing out heavy breaths.

“She’s been out long before you, I think,” Eddie explained, eyes still trained on the TV screen. The movie seemed almost over from the look of it.

“Makes sense, I can never make her sit through movies when she comes over, especially if substances are involved,” Steve chuckled, a spear of fire burning up his side from where Eddie’s thumb started mindlessly moving again. He wasn’t even sure if the man was aware he was doing it.

“Well, yeah, you seem to only pick the boringest romcoms,” Eddie joked, head turning in his direction ever so slightly for the first time since Steve had woken up in this position.

Their faces were so close his nose almost touched Eddie’s, he wondered what would happen if he leaned forward and kissed the man, that thought was quickly squashed when he realized that Eddie was making fun of his taste in movies. He squinted his eyes at Robin's sleeping form in a mock of betrayal, “There is nothing wrong with a simple, boring movie, Munson.”

Eddie bared his teeth in a smile and shook his head, “That’s what you think.”

Steve only shook his head in response, turning his attention away from Eddie’s lips, which were getting too close for the situation they were in. And by situation, he meant watching a horror movie with some dude he saved the world with, his best friend and never having acted on an attraction beyond the opposite sex.

The credits rolled and Steve stayed still, waiting for Eddie to get up and move first. It took until a particularly loud part of the score came on for his host to jump up and turn it off, leaving Steve cold in his corner of the couch.

“Okay, I’m going to leave sleeping beauty there. Yep, she somehow already found the blanket,” Eddie whispered, an eyebrow raised in amusement at the sleeping girl.

Steve stood up and stretched out his arms, reveling in the feeling of Eddie’s eyes on the bare stretch of stomach that most definitely was revealed from under his shirt. He may have done that on purpose.

“You can sleep in my bed, I’ll hit the floor,” Eddie said as he led Steve back to his room. He stared at pictures of Wayne and Eddie that hung along the corridor.

“Dude, we were just cuddling on your couch, I really don’t mind sharing,” Steve laughed, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck awkwardly.

Eddie turned to look out of the corner of his eyes at him, then smiled and nodded, “Okay, Harrington. Just wanted to gauge the situation here.”

“What do you mean?” Steve hissed as they passed Wayne’s room. Eddie shrugged and opened his door to a dimly lit room filled with posters and that smelled exactly like Eddie.

“Welcome, to my mind,” Eddie bowed dramatically for Steve to enter.

Cassettes littered the floor around a boombox, there were a few Vinyls on a shelf next to a dresser that had clothes coming out of the drawers like the vines from the Upside Down, the fabrics of more shirts and pants also covered the floor. Eddie’s bed was new, however.

“Ah yes, compliments from the government,” The metalhead explained when he saw Steve staring at the bed, the last time he’d seen it uncovered it had stains all over it and the coloring was off from the original white it had been.

“I’d offer you a toothbrush if I had one but you’re shit outta luck, dude,” Eddie said, shucking off his pants to reveal grey boxers underneath. He averted his eyes from the expanse of pale legs that had been exposed.

“It’s all good, man,” He said before pulling on the thick leather of his belt so he could crawl into the comfort of a bed.

Eddie jumped onto the bed, muscle tee still covering his chest, he pushed open the window a crack and let the wind whisper notes into the quiet room, “It gets really stuffy in here, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Steve pulled the covers up and slipped under the heavy material, casting a look over at the lamp on the bedside table, “Should I?”

The metalhead wordlessly nodded as he got comfortable on his side, slipping the multitudes of rings off his fingers and placing them along the windowsill. Steve reached an arm out and felt around for the switch, turning it off and enveloping them into darkness.

“Night, Steve,” Eddie said through a yawn.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” He mumbled, moving onto his side so he faced Eddie’s body, the man positioned on his back with an arm thrown over his head.

It took him a few minutes of listening to the sound of their breathing slowing down till it evened out, his eyes fell closed, and he fell into a deep sleep. For the first time in months Steve slept uninterrupted by horrible nightmares, feeling only the comfort of a body next to him and what may have been arms wrapped around his torso.

When he woke the next morning, there was a grip on his hip, pressing into the scar tissue over his t-shirt he’d slept in. The thing that had pulled him out of his slumber was the stupid problem he had any time he was in bed with anyone, even Robin, he cast his foggy gaze downward to the tent in his underwear and cursed.

Eddie moved behind him, mumbling something in his sleep and then moving into his back closer. Steve’s cheeks flushed when he felt the man’s face press tightly against his spine. He’d never been in such close proximity to someone he liked but couldn’t have, he always could have, but not with Eddie.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, imagining all sorts of terrible scenarios from his time in the Upside Down, willing his issue down. It worked, pictures of the Demogorgon screeching in his face cooling him down, then Eddie had to make it so much worse.

The metalhead shifted even closer, encircling Steve’s waist and bringing their bodies flush together; Knees hit the back of his own, a cool nose pressed to the bare stretch of skin of his neck. Shit, he was going to have to exit the bed before it was a real problem. He brought his hands down to where Eddie’s were connected low on his stomach and gently pried them apart, and somehow in his sleep, the man took that as the go ahead to hold his hand. Steve blushed furiously as he lay there in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape. He was holding hands with Eddie Munson in the man’s twin sized bed. And his heart was damn near singing.

Biting his lip, he tried again, he slipped one of his legs out of the bed and tried to reach the floor and his body slipped further off the bed, this caused Eddie to move in closer, almost like he was chasing Steve.

“Where ya going?” A low gravelly voice tumbled from Eddie, Steve froze, their hands were still tangled together and he was half off the mattress, he probably looked like an idiot.

“Steve!!” A high pitched yell came from the living room, Robin had woken up and there was an urgency in her tone, “I’m going to be late, shit!”

“I’ve gotta drive Robin to work, sorry,” Steve explained, a pang of guilt pounded out of his heart.

“M’kay,” Eddie said sleepily, releasing Steve from his grip, “You coming back or you got--”

Steve stood up and quickly found his pants on the floor, pushing his legs in and doing them up securely. His problem surprisingly vanished the moment he heard his best friend calling for him, “I’ve got some errands to run, but we should hang out again soon.”

“Mm, yeah,” For the first time that morning, Eddie’s dark eyes opened, the sun illuminating every brown strand, they were beautiful, “I’ve got a show in a couple of weeks, you should come?”

Steve couldn’t help the feeling of gratification that soared through his veins, grinning toward the closed door, “Yeah, I’ll come. See ya, Eddie.”

The metalhead sleepily covered his eyes with a forearm and waved blindly at him, Steve’s face was flushed and he felt satisfied as hell. With that, he stepped out of the room and made his way over to Robin quickly.

“Sorry, let's go,” Steve apologized, shooing his friend out of the trailer. One of her brows was raised suspiciously, but he mouthed later at her.

Once in his car Robin pulled down the mirror and licked at her fingers so she could clean up the mascara that had formed small black smudges under her eyes, “I heard you got the invite?”

“Ha, yeah, dude was half asleep, but I’ll take it,” Steve cursed the blush that creeped up his neck as he remembered all the events that just happened, “Still won your dare though.”

“Yes, yes you did, Steve,” Robin laughed, eyeing him in a way that made him feel like there was something he missed along the way. She leaned over and turned up the radio, Freddie Mercury’s crooning vocals drifted out of the speakers and he smiled.

When he pulled into the parking lot of Family Video, the song ‘Foolin’ Around’ was just coming to a close, Robin hopped out and rushed out a goodbye. He watched her fumble with the keys as she struggled to get the right one out to unlock the door. He chuckled and shook his head at her, pulling out of the lot and starting toward his home.

‘ Now you say you're leaving me I just can't believe it's true’

The lyrics of the next song on his tape started, and he ducked his head bashfully as the ghostly feeling of Eddie’s arms wrapped around his waist. It had been so… nice, just to be held. And the man had been so soft, not just in the morning but even the night before while they watched the movie.

‘I wanna little bit of feeling Little bit of sunshine to my life,’

The song picked up the pace and Steve hummed along, drumming along to the beat on his steering wheel. A huge smile burst onto his face, it almost hurt, and he didn’t care. The sun was shining high and bright, early morning birds chirped loudly, almost singing along with the song. He rolled down his window to let the wind blow through his sleep mussed hair, happily he opened his mouth and sang along loudly;

‘Just step right into my heart Come a little closer Don't tell me that it's over Make a brand new start,’

Steve avoided the thought of what probably could never be, for that moment, he wanted to cherish the giddy feeling he had bubbling up inside of him. He totally could be Eddie’s kind of lover, if only the man would let him.

Eddie’s POV part 1

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annaphoenix1994 · 9 months

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Ch.128 - Dipshits.

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

Kiera discusses her next strategy with Rob; Simon catches Baler falling in with the wrong crowd by playing Cowboy Poker.

“It’s about time you showed up for lunch!” Robert chuckled while he joined her in her office, sitting down at the small table that was close to the window, looking out towards the vague frame of the Tetons in the far distance, only knowing the mountain range due to its shape alone. “I got you a chicken wrap from the café. Hope you weren’t craving anything else.”

“That’s fine, Rob. Thank you.” Kiera shook her head, kindly accepting the fresh chicken Caesar wrap he had brought her as a kind gesture.

As well as a reward for helping him make a fuck ton of money within the last few months.

“So, are you excited to finally be taking full control of this office?”

“Terrified, but it’s how I learn.” She shrugged.

“Well, what’s your first move?”

“For one, I’m going to take down Jenkins. Any fucking way I can,” She scoffed, eagerly curling her index finger under the tab of her can of Dr. Pepper. “You get these land developers like him who find pristine recreational property, build whatever they desire and sell the dream – no major problems arise unless you have cocksuckers like Jenkins who desire to take it further: building hotels and casinos. They all end up leaving because they can’t generate enough cash flow after trying to turn it into New York City.”

“That’s right. You can’t make a big business out of raw land with real estate.” Rob nodded.

“Exactly.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“We set up a fund – a fund that buys land and puts it into a conservation easement which cuts the property tax by 2/3’s by the end of the year. Then we go to the Department of Agriculture and enroll the land in a CRP.”

“What’s a CRP?”

“It’s the federal government paying us not to farm it.”

Rob scoffed, “Now why would the federal government willingly pay its citizens not to do something that brings in revenue? That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“To control the supply. They won’t have to worry about local farmers – or people like Jenkins – diluting the market. It’s shit, but it’s a benefit for us.”

“What’s the turnaround look like?”

Kiera shrugged, “A government pay per acre, per year depending on land. The last I checked in Wyoming, it’s between $200-$300 an acre. That also goes for Montana, Utah, and Colorado – except Colorado is more stingy with where its money goes.”

“So the government will pay the land off for us in seven years?”

“We’ll pretty much become landlords who are paid not to rent.”

“Hm. Sounds like a pyramid scheme.”

“With the government at the bottom for once, then yeah. Let’s start with a $100,000,000 investment in land, then we funnel the CRP funds into more land purchases and buy probably up to 30,000 acres per year without spending a dime. We make a profit by year two with a net revenue of $45,000,000 per year.”

“The more we buy, the more the number increases?”

“Sound like a good retirement plan for you?”

“Of course it does, but why hasn’t anyone does this before?”

“They can’t afford it, but we can.”

“What’s in it for you, Kiera?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Something is buried within you.”

“I’m just doing my job,” She assured him. “And I’m doing the best I can to protect my father’s ranch and legacy for as long as I can.”

“I understand,” Rob nodded. “We’ll put the land into the hedge fund and use the brokers to buy up the land. Don’t haggle on price, Kiera. You know what to do.”

“Otherwise, you wouldn’t have given me the reins.”

Kiera’s fingers ached with as much as she had been typing on her computer, silently thankful that she had forced herself to upgrade from the slow HP desktop to an iMac, which hit the spot on her aesthetic, finding herself to be slightly more organized than she thought. Impressive, she mused.

Breaking her gaze from her computer, her head throbbed once she broke her focus to look for the source of the vibrations from her phone. Shit, already 5:00? “Hey.”

“What’re you up to, love?” Simon asked softly on the other end of the phone.

“Getting ready to have a meeting with a realtor who’s selling land around the ranch. Going to make an offer on it.”

“Rolling in the bread, yeah?”

She scoffed, “If only it was our money…”

“I’m sure I’d see signs,” He chuckled. “Coming home after?”

“Most definitely. My eyes have been so strained and my head has been hurting since I came in this morning. I ran into our buddy this morning.”

“Who?”

“Jenkins. I stopped at the diner for breakfast because I was craving strawberry banana pancakes and knew Ruby was there. That fucker was there, too. Me and him had a little word.”

“I bet that went well.”

“About like you could imagine. Couldn’t keep my big mouth shut.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” He poked. “So… Cravings, huh?”

She swore she had heard him smile at the thought.

“It’s been a few weeks now… I need to check and see if we have another one on the way,” She giggled. “Guess I have a stop to make on my way home, huh?”

“I’d love to see that. Your daughter has been babbling dada all day and I’ve been on a Cloud 9. If only I can get Jacob to finally talk without saying gibberish.”

“That’s because they’re babies, Simon,” She scoffed playfully. “The realtor’s coming in. This shouldn’t take long. Want me to call you back?”

“You can call me back or I can mute myself, love. I’m just sitting on the couch watching Evie and Jacob sleep.”

“Where’s Baler?”

“Bunkhouse. He and Johnny have been bullying each other about playing poker and Teeter kept instigating it, so that’s what he’s been doing since he’s been home from school.”

“Christ, that boy,” Kiera shook her head, glancing up at the realtor who had walked in, setting his briefcase down next to him in the chair while he sat in front of Kiera’s desk.

“Did I come in at a wrong time?” He asked, his tone nearly irritated at not only the fact that he had to deal with a woman, but being a man of strict order when it came to appointments. When you say to be here at 5:00, I expect you to be ready, not talking on the phone. Fucking women.

Oh, but he had no idea what he was up against…

And she noticed this, making it a point to piss him off even more for her own benefit. “Just mute yourself, Simon.” She advised, also sending him a quick text to inform him that he wanted to hear the rest of the conversation.

“What’ve you got for me, David?” She asked, watching him huff before stacking a file on her desk with the plot of land that he was able to provide for her that was for sale.

“Hope this best suits your needs.” He commented.

She arched her brow as she looked over the file as well as the photos that he had taken for the marketing on his iPad. “How many acres?”

“418. Asking price is $6,000.000. Has a water source, two houses, a separate garage, horse barn, indoor arena that’s air-conditioned and heated. The whole nine yards.”

“How motivated are the sellers?”

David scoffed, “Well, they thought spending the winter here was better than being in South Carolina. You tell me.”

You cocky motherfucker, she scoffed to herself. I’m going to ruin your ego in a few minutes. “Offer $4,000,000. No escrow – cash. One week close.”

“Wouldn’t you want to see it first?”

“Seeing it now.”

“Okay… You didn’t strike me as the type that would just buy something without seeing it.”

“You’d be surprised, buddy,” She retorted. “No negotiations. Offer the four and a week close. Surely they’d be eager to move back east for a mild winter.”

“Care to see one more that might better suit your interest?”

“Why not.”

David nodded, removing another file from his briefcase before setting it on her desk, taking the iPad and opening the other folder for his next proposal. “800 acres that ties into the national forest on the west, view of the Grand Tetons from the back patio, nothing but hunting land. It’s not available, but I know the people—”

“Then why are you showing it to me?”

“You… Wanted to see every large plot in the northwest part of Wyoming?”

“For sale.”

A brief moment of silence fell between the two, making dominant eye contact as if they were challenging each other. “It’s called Wren Acres.”

“Why’s it named after a wren?” She questioned curiously, truly wondering why a plot of land would be called something opposite to what species resided there.

“Who the fuck knows,” David scoffed. “Maybe it’s because they’re from South Carolina?”

“What’s with the wit, David?” Kiera asked softly, her adrenaline pumping as she was eager to make another man mad that she would be questioning his dominance. “Quick math for your commission making you feel eager? Damn, you’re showing us properties that aren’t even for sale. Man, you’re on a roll. Might go home and lay some pipe to the ole’ lady.”

He scoffed in astonishment as well as surprise. It’s kinda hot when a woman thinks she can be more assertive than me… “Wha-?”

“Get out of my office.”

“Kiera, I don’t—”

“Get the fuck out of my office. When you make a proposal, fax it to me so I don’t have to look at you again.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“You won’t or I will,” She shrugged. “You can lose your commission and I’ll go and lay pipe to your ole lady. Your choice.”

He scoffed, gathering his files and iPad before stuffing them back into his briefcase. “I’d like to see that.”

“I bet you would. Go write up the offer so I don’t have to. When you get your commission I want you to shove it so far up your waxed ass,” She scoffed, glaring at him while she watched him storm out of her office before mumbling, “Fuck, I hate real estate agents.” To Simon once she directed her conversation back at him, hearing him chuckling at her conversation while patiently waiting for it to end, although a part of him hoped it wouldn’t end, he quite thoroughly enjoyed watching Kiera be assertive to people, including him. It’s so bloody sexy when she tells me like it is, he mused to himself. “You remind me every day why I’m glad to be on your good side, love.”

“Did I forget to mute you?”

“Sure did, but I don’t mind. At least I was assured that you didn’t have another man in your office for another type of meeting…” He poked.

“That’s tomorrow,” She scoffed back, her tone nearly assertive, even though sarcasm was a thick underlier. “I’m finishing up and heading home. What do you want for dinner?”

“Remember, it’s Friday. Your mum was going to cook dinner and we go over there.”

“That’s right. I forgot to call her earlier—”

“Don’t stress about it. She called me and I took the kids over there around noon. She asked me to help her hang a few frames around the house that the poor lass couldn’t reach.”

“Awe, look at you being a house-husband.”

“Gotta do something while I’m on time off from work. Feels nice to do nothing with something on occasion.”

“I’m sure, babe. I’m heading to the truck now. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Got a whole hand of ‘em, boys!” Frankie taunted the others, his free hand full of cards while the other clutched a bottle of beer.

“Easy to say when you’re not in it.” Dirk teased from across the table.

“What’s eatin’ you, Baler? I know that’s not your poker face!” Lawson snickered, nudging the teen with his elbow.

“Yeah, you look like you’re about to take a shite!” Johnny laughed, tossing into the blind that sat piled in the middle of the table.

“Maybe I am…” Baler sighed, the corner of his mouth raising into a smirk before tossing the winning draw onto the table, watching the rest of the playing wranglers sigh in defeat.

“You son of a bitch!” Frankie sighed, folding his hand before twining his fingers behind his head while Lawson tossed his ballcap to the floor.

“Is this all we’re gonna do?” Teeter groaned impatiently.

“It’s what we always do?...” Frankie answered, his brows furrowed.

“Is it just one set of nuts y’all share?” She taunted, making Dirk laugh.

“Aside from the ones I’m wearing, I think your lady has the only ones in this room.”

“You’re probably right, mate.” Johnny huffed, his face flushed.

“When I was your age, we were out in the arena playing real poker… Cowboy Poker.”

“Now that sounds fun!” Teeter chimed.

“Wh-What is that?” Johnny asked.

“Oh, it’s real fun, baby. Involves a lot of whiskey and gettin’ a lil dirty!” She mused, leaning down from behind him to kiss his cheek.

“What exactly is it?” Baler asked, his expression just as confused as Johnny’s.

“We’re not playing it, so it doesn’t matter.” Frankie answered abruptly, shaking his head and beginning to shuffle a deck of cards.

“Bock… Bock, bock…” Dirk trailed off, chewing on the end of his cigar.

“That old fart is taunting me!” Baler scoffed. “Let’s do it.”

“Boy, your balls haven’t even dropped yet and you’re wanting to risk not ever growing them!” Lawson sighed.

“And your dad will kill us.” Johnny reminded, arching his brow. “Especially me for letting you do it.”

“Afraid you all will lose? It’s a damn shame mine haven’t even dropped and I have more balls than all of you combined.” Baler shrugged.

“Goddammit,” Frankie sighed. “Let’s go.”

All members of the table stood to their feet, anxious and ready for whatever this so-called game was. Knowing that it was taking place in an arena, it was about to get messier than what Teeter had explained.

“Don’t worry, baby! Ye be alright! I’m gonna stay behind the fence here!” Teeter snickered, clasping her hands over Johnny’s shoulders as she stood behind him once he sat down in the plastic chair, setting an open bottle of whiskey in his lap before her lips rested on his temple. “Drink up. Ye gonna need some liquid courage!”

Johnny nodded, never hesitating before taking a large sip of the liquor before passing it to Frankie, watching him repeat the motion before he passed it to Lawson, watching him take a small swig before passing it to Baler, shocked to see him take a drink just like Simon would as well as never making a sour face after he swallowed.

“Goddamn, kid, you stealin’ whiskey when your dad ain’t home?” Dirk commented, surprised.

“Nah, I just had a rough life before this place, old man,” He retorted. “More liquid courage, Frankie? You look like a puss right now.”

“Fuck you. You sound just like my sister.” He retorted, referring to Kiera as she was his sibling.

“Taught me well, didn’t she?”

“Now, what’s the rules?”

“Last one at the table keeps the pot,” Lawson answered, his form visibly trembling from adrenaline and fear. “Pass me some more of that.”

“Drink up, dipshits,” Dirk laughed. “You’re going to need it.”

“You two are getting horse traded by this old bastard and he isn’t even drinking anything.” Baler taunted.

“This is fucking nuts!” Lawson shouted, desperate to pump himself up to hide his fear.

“Quit crying!” Baler scoffed. “We’re ready!”

“Yeah, there’s not a lot smart about this…” Frankie sighed.

“Here we go, ladies,” Baler continued, taking a final long swig of the burning whiskey before shouting, “Ready!”

Johnny took a deep breath when he heard the gate open, a set of thunderous hooves colliding with the sand while Teeter shouted at the bovine, the radio that was perched on the ground to provide as background music blared Mud by Whiskey Myers as the bull charged into the arena, looking around frantically before setting its sights on the table in the middle of the arena, each player sitting as still as they possibly could as the bull charged closer, bowing its head for its desired impact, Baler sitting on the other end of the table and physically watched the bull charge as if it were charging at just him.

With a sharp thud and the air kicked from his lungs, Baler steadily stood on his feet to flee to the nearest fence, watching as he was the last one in the arena, unaware that the other players had fled with adrenaline after being rammed by the bull, Johnny and Teeter both encouraging Baler to run with adrenaline still coursing through their veins, Dirk’s aching limbs helping the teenager over the top of the fence rail with a laugh while he did his best to dust him off. “That’s some cowboy shit, boy!” He shouted with excitement.

“That’s… That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done!” He laughed. “But that was fucking awesome!”

“Ye okay baby, no missin’ teeth?! Your pecker still on right? I ain’t need no limp’n!” Teeter questioned Johnny, looking him over while he gasped for air and clutched his ribs.

“I’m fine, bonnie. Bastard hit me right in the ribs.” He groaned.

“Balls of steel!” Frankie laughed, patting Baler on the shoulder as he limped towards the barn, regrouping with the rest of the wranglers as they all gasped for air.

“Are you alright?”

“Fuckin’ peachy.” Baler groaned, wiping the blood from his nose.

“You might need this.” Lawson said, reaching the bottle of leftover whiskey to the teen as he took it eagerly, finishing it off without a second thought, even if Simon had just walked towards the arena to investigate the commotion, the wranglers unaware that the blaring music had caught his attention as it was very rare of the wranglers to throw a “party.”

“He lost his hat, so he owes us a six pack and a new radio.” Frankie teased, the players still unaware of Simon’s deathly gaze as he was storming towards them.

“The fuck I do!” Baler scoffed. “Give me my money!”

“Fine!” He scoffed, slapping the fifty-dollar bill into the teen’s palm, watching with a scowl as he had eagerly fisted it into his back pocket.

“What the fuck are you bastards doing?” Simon shouted.

The wranglers were wide-eyed, looking like a bunch of deer in oncoming headlights, nearly scared out of their wits and suddenly wishing they were caught slacking on the job instead of what they had just done, the worst of it willingly letting a teenager drink whiskey like an old man.

“Uhm… It’s Friday.” Baler answered for them, hoping that the day of the week would at least help him and the wranglers out of this situation.

“I know what bloody day it is, lad!” He shouted. “Why were you in the arena with that bull and why are you bloody?!”

“We were tryin’ to milk him!” Teeter snickered, knowing that Simon wouldn’t be as inclined to scold her in front of Johnny.

Boy, what she wrong.

“Not the fucking time,” He glared, more irritated that his son was battered and bloody – something that always drove under his skin as he always felt he needed to be the one to protect him, even in his wrong decisions. But Simon wouldn’t admit that he was impressed with the kid. You just took a beating by a two-thousand pound bull and still got up. You have some serious guts, kid. “Lad, go to the house and tell your mum what you just did.”

“N-No, I—”

“I’m not going to tell you again.”

Then, the teen did something that truly caught Simon off guard. He scoffed at him.

Simon arched his brow – a warning. “Get the furball out, then go to the house and tell your mum what you just did.”

Baler scoffed again.

“If you *scoffing sound* one more time, I’ll choke you for real.”

The rest of the wranglers laughed as Baler limped away in defeat.

“Balls of steel when it comes to a bull, but going home like a kitten when he’s in trouble.” Lawson teased.

“I’d be more afraid of going home if I were him,” Dirk shrugged. “That bull is the least of my worries if it comes down to dealing with Kiera as mad as a wet hen.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I forgot she beat the shit out of Frankie a couple of years ago.” Lawson snickered, nudging Frankie with his elbow before Simon quickly took control of the situation and grasped their coats, knocking them off balance before shoving them back towards the bunkhouse.

“You all get out of here and get yourselves cleaned up. Four a.m. comes early!”

“We never get up at four on Saturday—” Dirk pleaded.

“You all will tomorrow,” He glared. “Maybe you all will learn once you decide to not mess with a bloody rabid bull.”

“Yes, sir.” Dirk nodded, respecting Simon’s leadership as well as understanding his reason for being upset, joining the rest of the wranglers to the bunkhouse, Teeter helping the old man walk as Johnny stayed behind in an attempt to stay on Simon’s good side.

Like a dog who had just been punished.

“You, especially.” He scoffed, arching his brow at Johnny.

“I’m sorry, Simon. It was all just fun—”

“Yeah? How’d that work out for you?”

“Pretty fuckin’ rough,” He breathed a laugh, stuffing his freezing hands into his jacket pockets. “What’re you wanting us to do in the morning?”

“In case you forgot, you said you were coming hunting with me and the boy tomorrow.”

“I’d rather work,” Johnny sighed. “Hunting with you is like a recon mission. After being with Teeter for so long, I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut for longer than an hour.”

“You’ve never been able to keep your mouth shut,” Simon retorted. “Who won?”

“Your kid. Little bastard never moved.” Johnny huffed, relieved once he saw a prideful smile spread across Simon’s face at his answer.

“Is that right?”

“The kid is a walking stick of dynamite. He’s a perfect mix of you and Kiera and he isn’t even blood-related to you. Makes me wonder how your actual kids will turn out.” He poked.

“I can assure you, if my daughter grows up with Kiera’s attitude and my stubbornness and I catch her out here playing this stupid game like you all were playing tonight, every one of you would be dead and she’d be locked up in the house until she was an adult.”

“Don’t lie, you wouldn’t even let her out of the house when she was an adult!”

“You’re probably right.”

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #callofduty #simon riley x oc #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost riley #simon riley x og female

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work-and-life-in-shizuoka · 1 year

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INTERVIEW_16

LIN FAN

Countries & Regions / Taiwan

1. Job Description

I work remotely as an engineer for a partner company of Salesforce in Tokyo. We undertake system issues for domestic and foreign companies and consult with companies to come up with the best solution with our team members. We also support them by having a weekly meeting, suggesting better ideas, buidling clear visions, new systems when necessary. Even after the contract period, we are sometimes asked for maintenance supports such as system stability and system recovery. Also, we provide translation service.My job may seem to repeat the same service through the year but in reality, as we care varieties of clients for diverse issues and as IT improves every day, I am very encouraged to learn something new.

2. Why do you work in Shizuoka ?

When I was a university student in Shizuoka, I had an opportunity to join a training program conducted by a company, and it was truly destined to bring Shizuoka and me together. At that time, my assignment was to deal with inbound travelers and thanks to the two-month training program, I learned how the society in Japan works. In addition to work, after-work dinners or drinks were unforgettable.

On my days off, I enjoyed exploring downtown Shizuoka and its suburbs, which made me want to live and work in Shizuoka after graduation.

3. Charms of Shizuoka

Shizuoka is half urban and half rural, and I often think it has the best of both worlds. In addition, since Shizuoka is located in central Japan, it is very convenient to visit anywhere in Japan. The climate is blessedly mild, neither too hot in summer nor too cold in winter. People of Shizuoka are very relaxed and easy to live with, just like the characters in Chibimaruko-chan, Japanese popular anime for kids. Moreover, you can see the symbol of Japan, Mt. Fuji, every day. I can say that living in Shizuoka is like having a ticket to VIP seats all year round to see Mt. Fuji!

Also, rent is much cheaper than Tokyo, which improves my quality of life. I changed a job once and actually considered moving to Tokyo, but I ended up settling in Shizuoka, and now I can say with certainty that living in Shizuoka is a better way of life!

Recently, due to COVID-19, here has been a trend to move from urban areas to rural areas. I am proud of my decision to stay in Shizuoka where being selected as the best prefecture people would like to move to in Japan for three consecutive years from 2020 to 2022.

4. Messages

Shizuoka has mountains and the ocean. When you need to refresh yourself, you can easily plan a one -day trip to enjoy the great nature, fresh foods, and talking to local people. When you want to exercise, you can enjoy hiking, cycling, marine sports, and many other activities. Personally, I recommend that you climb Mt. Fuji at least once in your lifetime to feel the great sprit of nature. Actually, I have climbed it by myself, and though it was a difficult walk to the top, I feel that it gave me a new outlook for my life.

Furthermore, Shizuoka has lots of hidden gems that you can only discover if you live in Shizuoka, such as the port town of Mochimune and the deep mountains of Oku-shizu area. Unlike Tokyo, you might not see foreign people in Shizuoka, but that gives you more opportunities to interact with the locals and enjoy Japanese life more!! I really hope you will live in Shizuoka as your second hometown!

0 notes

comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

A Summer Secret Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

Part 1 of my mini-series 'A Summer Secret' want to be tagged? Let me know!

Part 2

Requested/About: After bursting a water pipe and flooding his house, Fred needs a place to stay - whilst the family is on a vacation he temporarily stays at George's house. Y/N tries to get out of an arranged marriage her parents have planned with the Malfoy Family. Failing to do so, she flees to George's house - the father of her best friends who promised she could stay there to escape. Fred and Y/N meet unexpectedly, and something sparks between them - something that Fred vows to be nothing more than a summer fling, a summer secret... but is it?

Warnings: Age gap relationship (y/n is 18), swearing, mention of arranged marriage, mention of food and eating.

Staring out of the train window, bidding farewell to the mountains, the river, and to Hogwarts, you felt tears prick at your eyes. You weren't ready to go home for summer, you never did - you were always at the Twin's house, living under George and Angelina's roof to escape the arguments your parents caused when you said no to them controlling every aspect of your life.

Unfortunately, Gideon and Fabian were going away for the summer with their parents to visit Charlie and you were unable to join them, you understood and was fine with it, but you were absolutely terrified to step foot into your home, with your parents trying to force you into a marriage you didn't want.

"Cheer up, Y/N." Fabian frowned "I hate seeing you upset."

You broke your stare from the scenery and looked over at your best friends, taking some puking pastilles from their bags.

"Just in case" you muttered, "If they're sick they'll leave me alone."

Fabian smirked and shook his head, tutting "Did they say anything else in the letter?"

You shook your head back "No, they just told me I didn't have a choice. I've graduated, I'm eighteen yet I can't decide what I want for myself."

"I can't imagine getting married at this age to someone I've probably never met."

You stared at Fabian, a little sore and taken aback by his sudden burn.

"Thanks, Fabian, I can't either." You squirmed in your seat and pulled out some jelly snakes from the bag of sweets you were sharing, biting and pulling at the tail, stretching the snake, bursts of green apple and lime flooded your mouth.

"I'm sorry Y/N," he apologised starting to panic.

You shrugged it off and tried to stay calm, throwing him a jelly snake"It's okay."

Gideon rummaged through his large bag and pulled out a large bronze key, handing it to you. "If things get really bad, stay at our house anyway."

You smiled slightly and took the key from him, examining it before stuffing it in your pocket "Thanks, lads."

Fabian nodded his head, flicking through job applications he had filled out before sighing and plonking them back in his bag. "Thank Merlin we've got dads shop"

"Tell me about it" Gideon replied "Uncle Fred will be chuffed when we roll up begging for a job."

The two of them laughed, waiting for you to join in, but you were too busy staring out of the window getting lost in what could unfold in a few hours time.

Dear Y/N,

We are so proud of you for working so hard, we are very eager to find out your N.E.W.T results in the next few months to come.

Your mother and I have been looking for jobs you can apply to once you're home, if you've got the grades, working for The Ministry seems rather promising. Your friend's uncle worked as an Auror for a little while, the one who now picks up spare shifts at that joke shop every now and then.

Anyway, we have got some news we need to share it with, unfortunately, we are unable to tell you in person as the wait is too long, but I don't doubt our owl is rather fast at delivering letters; a lot faster than yours it seems.

We have decided that you will be getting an arranged marriage, your status needs to be high if you want to go for and do well in life, you will marry into a very successful family, one that will open doors for you which your N.E.W.Ts cannot.

If you have anything going on with anyone right now, you need to end it before you arrive home. This matter is not up for discussion, neither is the family we have chosen for you.

Arrive home on time, well dressed, and we will go through the meeting. Don't you dare show us up in front of them, you will regret it.

Please write back, I'm not sending another owl to check on you and you are old enough to realise that Howlers are for kids.

Grow up and act like an adult.

See you soon.

Safe Travels,

- Y/D/N

Grumbling down the path to your house, your stomach started to do flips as you inched closer and closer to the front door. Seeing yourself in the reflection of the glass diamond shape in the middle of the door, you quickly fixed your hair that got ruffled in the wind, unrolling your skirt and straightening out the creases in your blouse.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled and pushed the front door open, carrying your trunk inside, your owl flying inside eagerly for scraps of food. Your heart thumped in your chest and you could hear each thump in your ears.

"Mum!" you called out "Dad!"

"We're in the living room, Y/N," Y/D/N replied.

Setting down your trunk beside the stairs in case you needed to make a quick escape, you walked into the living room, staring at your shoes, afraid your parents had already pulled out a wedding dress and pamphlets of various venues waiting to be hired.

"How lovely to see you," your mother smiled, getting out of her seat to pull you into a hug before your dad cleared his throat.

Yeah, go on, scare her away from me like you always do.

Your mum quickly sat back down beside your father who didn't hug you or welcome you home. Instead, he pulled two moving photographs from the pocket in his waistcoat, setting them face down on the table in front of you.

This must be the family he's chosen for me.

"Well dressed like I asked, thank you." He smiled "You'll be happy to know that the family we have picked out for you are rather eager to... get the ball rolling. They've been kind enough to offer to cover the costs of the wedding, and helping you move into their home once you have married their son."

A wedding... I won't get to choose...

Moving into their home... where I cannot escape...

Fred cursed under his breath standing in his kitchen, the bottom of his trousers heavy and drenched because of the water rising up to his ankles. He dragged himself around the kitchen, searching for some parchment and a quill, but with no luck, he grabbed the muggle telephone, trying to remember how to ring his brother.

"Hello, George Weasley speaking-"

"Alright, Mr Fancy arse" Fred replied, swearing as his shoes started to squelch with each step "Look, I need some help."

Angelina could be heard in the background, telling George to meet her at the airport after she lands with the boys.

"What's up, Freddie?"

Fred sighed "I'm up to my ankles in water, a bloody pipe burst and these muggles take ages to get here. The whole house will be flooded by the time you get here, can I crash at your place? I don't want to bother mum, she's got enough going on with Ron and Hermione's newborn."

George smirked through the phone, amused at his brother's bad luck with something as simple as a water pipe, magic not being able to fix it after a prank going wrong with Fred's wand.

"Of course, me, Angelina, and the boys will be gone for a few weeks though, there's enough food and that - all I ask is that you look after the owls for us."

Fred walked up the steps, his lower legs now getting wet "Thank you, George, I owe you one!"

"It's okay Freddie, just don't get up to any trouble."

"I won't. Say hi to Charlie for me!"

If Gideon and Fabian knew Uncle Fred was staying at the house too, they would have texted you, sent an owl if they didn't have any signal, but they didn't know - and their father didn't think to tell them.

If Fred knew a younger girl would be staying in the house, he would have rented a room somewhere else, hell, he would've stayed in the office above the shop, but he didn't know.

And you of all people would've forced yourself to stay under your parent's roof for a little longer, or jump on a plane and bump into Gideon and Fabian just by chance, but they didn't tell you.

Fred always felt amazed when he was in George's house - it was large and cosy, a proper family home, a master bedroom with an ensuite, two guestrooms where you had slept during previous summer - where the twins often slept instead of their own room from time to time, and a large bathroom that could fit in the whole Weasley family.

You swallowed hard, shifting in the stiff chair, you shook your head, your voice wobbly as you tried to speak.

"Dad, I appreciate all of this, I really do - but I'm an adult, it isn't your choice or right to make decisions for me, I don't want to get married, I don't want to live with another-"

You wanted to continue, but Y/D/N glared at you, he spoke through gritted teeth, flipping over the photographs of the family trying to buy you for their son.

"How dare you disrespect me. After everything I have done for you, for this family, you are not an adult, you still act like a child!"

"I'm eighteen!" you snapped, feeling brave, finding your voice.

"You are still living under my roof! You will do as I say!"

Your mother did nothing but stare into the fireplace, perhaps deep in thought or imagining you in a white lace dress, walking down the aisle with a face smile plastered on your face.

"No, I will not!"

"You will!" your dad bellowed, rising out of his chair "because they are coming to meet you in an hour and you better comply, girl!"

Tears pricked at your eyes, your chest tightened and the familiar lump formed in your throat. Staring down at the picture made you sick to your stomach, you recognised the young lad in the photograph, for he was no other than Scorpius Malfoy.

"The Malfoys!" you also stood up "I will never, ever marry into that family! Not after what they did!"

Y/D/N grunted "What are you going to do? Marry a Weasley? Work in a joke shop and be a laughing stock for a living?"

You stormed out of the living room, grabbing your trunk, your mother continued to stare into the flames, blocking out everything around her, smiling about what could have been.

Your dad followed you, grabbing the other handle on your trunk, pulling you to him.

"You aren't going anywhere!"

"I'm going anywhere but here!" you snarled back, your trunk opened and your clothes dropped onto the floor, letting go, you stormed up the stairs and sprinted to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Frantically, you pulled out your phone, messaging the twins.

Y/N: They want me to marry into the Malfoy family! I can't fucking do it.

Fabian: Wait. Scorpius?

Gideon: You've got to be joking.

Y/N: No! I'm not! His family are coming to meet me in the next hour, what the fuck am I going to do?

Gideon: Puking Pastilles?

Y/N: No, I'm not risking leaving this bedroom if I'm not going outside.

Fabian: You've got our house key, use it genius.

Y/N: I will tonight, I just need to fake this shit, hopefully, I won't be married by morning, I'll run away to yours in the night.

Gideon: Be careful.

Fabian: Don't do anything we wouldn't do.

Y/N: Why do you think I'm running away? The Malfoys are the worst match!

Fred got used to being alone in the house after a week, blasting loud music, dancing like no one was watching, walking around in nothing but his boxers as the summer heat became unbearable. He felt on top of the world, he was alone, enjoying himself, in a huge house all to himself.

Managing to escape through the night as you had planned, you were taken by surprise when you arrived at George's manor to find the lights on and music blaring through the walls.

Maybe the twins came home early to surprise me.

Knocking on the door was pointless, even if you yelled the music was too loud to compete with. Pulling out your key, you unlocked the door and walked inside, setting your bags down on the table on the porch, hanging your coat up on the peg. Following the music you stopped in your tracks, in front of you was Fred, dancing in his boxers, sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, playing the air guitar. Your cheeks started to go red. If this was a prank, it was definitely well thought out - but deep down, you knew that Fabian and Gideon hadn't come home.

You had met Fred before, you always visited the joke shop with your friends and he had been at George's many times over Christmas, and Summer when he wasn't working. Each time you had seen him, he had always been on his own, no girlfriend, no ring on his finger.

Fred spins around with his eyes closed and opens them as he faces you, he jumps out of his skin and instantly covers his private parts with his hands as his eyes met yours, you grabbed the remote and rapidly paused the blaring music.

"W-What are you doing here?!" he asked, breathless and red.

You picked up one of his T-Shirts and threw it at him, leaning against the table, staring at your shoes as he got dressed "I could ask you the same thing." you replied shyly.

taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @inglourious-imagines @reeophidian @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx @onlyfreds @lucymfer @livvysnaps @supermassiveblackhope @youralternantpersonality @xgoodbyexinnocencex @gustepasilyte

#Fred and George #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #harry potter fanfic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #george weasley fanfiction

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moralesispunk · 3 years

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First Dates

Marcus Moreno x Reader

Summary - You and Marcus finally go on your first date together

No warnings

This is the second part of my Marcus fic

Master list / Part 1 here < / part 3 here >

On the drive home from your morning with Marcus, you couldn’t stop the smile that had taken over your face. While you had been enjoying spending time with him casually, his company sweetening your caramel latte mornings, you were excited to go on an official date with him.

You were a bit nervous over the fact you had already met Missy, knowing that he had avoided introducing or even telling Missy about any of his dates since he started dating again. However, by the sounds of things he had mentioned you to her before and, well, that made your whole chest warm.

While you knew that you were enjoying your time with Marcus more than just as new friends you weren't thinking that he was feeling the same. He was handsome and kind and you kept putting the spark you thought you felt down to his politeness. The fact that it wasn’t a one-sided feeling made you happier than you could believe.

Once you arrived home you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon cleaning your apartment before making dinner. As you looked out all of the ingredients you would need you heard your phone ringing from the kitchen counter. You looked over in enough time to see the screen flashing with an unknown number but the call ended before you could reach for it. Two seconds later a text flashed through from the same number:

It’s Marcus - from the coffee shop!

You smiled, swiping across to phone him back. He answered before the end of the first ring.

“Hi,” his voice came through, a litter shyer than you had heard it before.

“Hello, Marcus from the coffee shop,” you sang back.

His laugh came through the speaker, a little altered but as beautiful as always.

“I thought you might not answer a call from an unknown number.”

“Good thinking. So, did you and Missy get home okay then?”

“Safe and sound,” he replied and you could hear the smile in his voice, “she’s in watching TV and I’m just making some dinner. What are you doing?”

“Making some dinner too, some spicy chicken pasta I think. What’s on the menu at the- I just realised I don’t know your last name!”

Your laughter mixed together over the speakers, laughing at the fact that while you had shared a lot with each other over this past month your last names hadn’t been on that list.

This moment meant more to Marcus than you had known. While he told you about his work and you said you had heard of the Heroics but didn't know much about them, the fact you didn't know his last name meant you hadn't looked him up to read whatever the news had put out about him over the years.

“Moreno, and yours?”

You gave him your last name before going on.

“Well, whats on the menu at the Moreno household tonight then?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs, they’re Missy’s favourite.”

“I do like spaghetti and meatballs, good choice Missy.”

“Maybe I can make them for you some time,” his flirty smile evident from his deep voice ringing through the phone.

“That sounds even better.”

The both of you spent the rest of the time you made dinner on the phone. You told him that you had the Netflix show he told you about lined up to watch while eating dinner and laughed at the sound of pots and pans clattering together followed with him cursing under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear.

Marcus finished making dinner first and you hear the tail-end of him shouting for Missy.

“So, you’ll let me know how you like the show?” his voice back to sounding shy again.

“Of course, enjoy dinner Marcus.”

“You too,” he replied, your name sounding soft as it comes from his lips.

As soon as you finish making dinner, plating enough for tonight and putting the rest in a leftover tub, you sit down to watch the show Marcus had told you about. It was a murder mystery show, based on another book of the same author he had been reading when you first met.

Once the first episode finished you clicked on the next, knowing that you would probably finish this show tonight. It was amazing and you could imagine Marcus as he watched it, guessing along with the detectives and getting excited when he got the twist before anyone on the show, the same way he must have done while reading his book from all the notes he left behind. You decided to send him a text.

You: I’m loving this! On to the next episode already.

Marcus: I knew you would love it! Do you have any guesses yet?

You text one another back and forth for the rest of the night and you make your way through the show like you thought. Marcus decides to join you in watching the last episode, wanting to watch at the same time as you. You phone him as soon as you finish, realising it was left on a cliffhanger.

“They can’t end it like that!”

Marcus laughs at you reaction, hearing your voice echo through before his finger had even lifted from the answer button.

“It’s not funny! Are they making another series?”

“I think so, I’ve heard it’s coming out in a few months,” he replies, still laughing.

“Thank God,” you sigh.

“So, you really liked it then?”

“I really did. Thank you for telling me about it.”

“It’s no problem, I’m glad you liked it,” he said.

“Well, it is getting late now and I think I’m going to head to bed but I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“I would like that. Talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams.”

You went to bed smiling at the thought of Marcus that night. You were falling for a man who you had only met a few times before and technically hadn’t been on even a first date with yet. It scared you but something in you told you to give in to the fall.

---------

The next day you woke to a good morning text from Marcus, telling you that him and Missy were going to his mums for the day and to have a good day.

You went about your Sunday as normal, running errands with a little extra skip in your step. As you put your shopping in your car and sat in the drivers seat, your phone flashed with Marcus’s name.

“Hello!” you answered.

“Hi, how are you today?” he asked.

“I’m good, just running errands. Hows your day at your mums?”

“Good, I mean she has me and Missy working hard in the kitchen,” he laughs, “I was actually phoning to see if you’re free on Saturday for dinner? Missy is going to stay at my mums that night.”

“I am indeed, that sounds lovely Marcus.”

“Great, I’m looking forward to it! I’ve got to go before head chef notices I’ve went missing but I’ll talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later, Marcus.”

The rest of the week goes in quickly and you Marcus talk every day. You spend some nights talking on the phone for hours after Missy went to bed or in days you were busy you both managed even just a quick text on your breaks from work.

Marcus: The one day I had planned to finish work early and I just a pile of paperwork the height of me put on my desk

You: Just sneak out, you're the leader of the Heroics after all!

You: Should I have pizza or pasta for dinner?

Marcus: Pasta! Definitely pasta.

By the time Saturday came, you weren’t nervous but rather excited to see Marcus again. He had told you that would pick you up at 7 and had booked a table at his favourite Italians.

You spent the day relaxing and looking forward to it, looking out some clothes you felt good in but nothing too fancy. You enjoyed taking the time to do your hair and make up just as you liked it, having a spare 15 minutes to sit and wait before he should be arriving. In those 15 minutes the butterflies finally came. You were going on a date with a man who you had been slowly falling for over a month before quickly hitting the ground over this past week.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, answering it to find Marcus standing at the other side. He looked as handsome as ever, sporting something a little smarter than you had seen before with a nice shirt and trousers. His hair was combed back too but the same glasses perched on his nose. His bright smile was on his face as usual, looking a little shyer now though.

“Hi, I got you these,” he said, handing over the most beautiful flowers you think you’ve ever seen.

“Oh Marcus, they’re stunning. Have I got time to put them in some water before we leave?” you asked and he nodded.

You invited him inside, walking straight to the kitchen to fill up a vase for the flowers.

“You have a lovely place,” Marcus said, smiling at some of the photos and art you had hanging up on the wall. He guessed who was who in the photos from what you had told him about your family before, the tall man you had your arm slung around at a barbecue who looked a lot like you must have been your younger brother and the older couple you were standing next to at what looked like a wedding your parents.

“Thank you, its just rented so can’t do too much to it but I think I’ve managed to make it feel enough like home for now,” you voice called out to the hall.

You fixed the flowers in the vase, placing it on the kitchen table. You didn’t notice but Marcus had moved to standing against the doorway, watching as you did so. You looked beautiful as you carefully fixed the flowers in the vase, carefully lifting one to smell it before smiling and putting it back in its place.

“Ready?” you asked, turning to smile at him.

“Ready,” he said back, trying not to fluster under your gaze.

He walked out, leading you out to his car, opening the door and waiting till you had got in to shut it before walking around to the drivers side.

The drive there was comfortable, the quiet radio filling what few silences you shared. He told you about the restaurant, a small family run Italians he stumbled across one day that made the best home-made pasta. It wasn’t too far from where you stayed and when you arrived Marcus told you to wait, letting him get out to open up your door for you.

It was such a simple gesture but one you couldn’t remember having been done for you before. He held your hand as you got out the car, placing his hand on your lower back as you walked to the restaurant.

It looked small and cosy, the place lit by few lights but a lot of candles. The smell of pasta and sauce and wine filled your senses as Marcus opened the door for you, giving his name to the man at the front. They took you over to a table near the back, a cosy booth that meant you were sitting close to one another.

“The penne arrabbiata is amazing here,” Marcus said as you opened up the menus.

“It does sound good, what are you getting?”

You read through the menus together before ordering your food and drinks. Just as the young waiter walks off an older man comes over, dressed similarly but a bit different to the rest of the staff.

“Mr Moreno,” the mans voice booms as he leans to shake Marcus’s hand.

“Peter. I told you, Marcus is fine,” he replies as he shakes the mans hand back

“And who is this lovely lady, not your usual companion tonight,” the man turns to smile at you.

You look back at Marcus, half jokingly raising your eyebrow, before turning back to the man. Marcus gives him your name, letting the man know you're on a date as what must be the manager smiles and shakes your hand back before leaving you to your night.

“He meant Missy, by the way. We usually come here for lunch when we’re in the mood for pasta, she likes that the kids menu is the same as the adults just smaller portions. Just in case you thought he meant-,”

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you laugh.

You spend the rest of the night learning even more about each other than you already had. It was strange, for it being your first date you already knew so much about one another.

At the end of the night, Marcus came back from the toilet, lifting your jacket to help you into it.

“We need to pay,” you said as you brought your arms into the sleeves.

“Already sorted it,” Marcus said back as he put his own jacket on, giving you a cheeky smile.

“Will you ever let me pay for something?” you teased back.

“Maybe one day.”

You walked back to the car, Marcus helping you in once again, before driving back to your home.

“I had a lovely night, Marcus. I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard,” you said, turning to face him.

His face was lit by the street lights casting a flashing orange hue over his face. His eyes sparkled every time the light touched them. He had a soft smile on his face as he turned to face you at the red light.

“Me either. I really enjoy spending time with you. I feel like I’ve known you forever,” he said back, reaching to lift your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss against the back.

His lips were soft and warm as they pressed gently into the back of your hand, his eyes staring into yours as he did so. It felt like this one simple moment lasted forever, your stomach doing flip after flip. You couldn’t help the blush that creeped onto your face, visible even in the dark night. As the light turned green, Marcus turned to face the road now but held your hand in his. You looked over his every feature, from his hair to his nose to the stubble that covered his jaw.

He pulled up outside your home with you still admiring him.

“Can I walk you in?” he asked, undoing his seatbelt as you nodded.

You both walked towards your door, his hands in his pockets and you playing with your hands.

“So, I really did have a wonderful night Marcus,” you said.

“So did I. Can we do this again?”

“I would definitely like that,” you replied.

A silence fell over you both for moment, looking anywhere but one another’s eyes. When you finally looked up your eyes met his. They quickly darted down to your lips before looking back up again. Feeling braver than you usually would, you took a step forward so there was little space between your bodies now.

You reached up, placing your hand on the side of his cheek. His eyes closed for a moment, leaning into your hand, before he lifted his hands to cup your face. You both leaned in at the same time, your lips brushing over one another slightly before he finally leaned in to kiss you properly.

It was gentle and soft. Your mouths moved in time with one another, no rushing as you enjoyed each other in this moment. Your hand left his cheek and moved to hold gently onto his arm. When you finally broke apart, a little breathless and giddy, neither of you moved further apart.

You stayed for a moment, your hand resting on his arm and his hands gently holding your face. He leaned down and gave you a final soft kiss before stepping back a little.

“Wow,” he whispered, a small laugh hidden in the word.

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

“So, I’ll give you a call?” he said, placing his hands back in his pockets.

You nodded, “let me know when you get home safe?”

He gave you a smile, waiting until you unlocked the door to head in before turning back to his car. As you walked in to your place you turned just in time to catch Marcus skip a little as he hopped of the curb to walk round to the drivers side. You waited by the door, both waving at one another as he headed off.

Neither of you were falling anymore. You had both fallen, hard.

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Tags: @heythere-mel

#marcus moreno #Marcus Moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno x you #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno fanfic #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno oneshot #marcus moreno headcannon #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #headcannon #oneshot #marcus moreno x y/n

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers Part 3: Storkules in Duckburg! aka THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES TERRIBLE BUT WELL MEANING ROOMATE OUT OF MYTH

Hello all you happy people! And welcome and welcome back to Of Moons, Millionares and Mothers, my look at the season 2 arcs of Ducktales! This arc was paid for by WeirdKev27 and I truly enjoy his support. if you want to know how to commission your own reviews or to get a guarnateed review of me of your choice from me a month, stick around to the end. I realized that shoving all my plugs in up top may be driving people away and while I DO make them because I want to make a living off this, i’ts not fair to those of you who simply can’t afford to buy a lot of extra shit like myself to keep shoving it in your face.

Previously on the Louie Inc Arc, Louie, after believing he had no skills and it was a matter of when not if he ws going to die, found his talent: seeing all the angles and thus being Sharper than the Sharpies. With newfound confidence and a chip on his shoulder from Scrooge saying he could one day be a bigger success than Scrooge himself, founding Louie Inc as a result. But what is Louie Inc? Does he actually have a plan or a bunch of buzzwords. And what does STORKULES, MANLY GAY OUT OF MYTH have to do with any of this? Join me under the cut to find out.

We open with Louie giving Scrooge his sales pitch that is essentially...

Naturally Scrooge buys none of it. I mean he’s somewhere in his hundreds, he’s probably seen about 80 thousand pitches that amount to “I have no plan but give me money anyway”. There’s a reason there’s a Butch Hartman shaped crater on the lawn from where he threw his ass out.

Scrooge does mentor the lad, or at least attempt to pointing out he needs an actual product or service (Louie rejects the idea of a lemonade stand as too easy), or as he puts it “Find a problem and create a solution”.

While the basic PRINCIPAL isn’t bad, find something people want or need and provide it, phrasing it that way sounds like “find a problem people are having and exploit the shit out of that problem for fun and profit.” Granted that IS a guiding principal of business, it’s just not something an uncle should be teaching his kids. They should be teaching them about the anime and cartoons they grew up with as I do with my niece and nibling.

He does show him a valid example of this in action in the form of Donald. Turns out Donald has found a good way to make money while he looks for a job, can relate: since Duckburg is facing a housing shortage, likely because several square blocks probably get destroyed by Scrooge’s Adventures, Glomgold’s Schemes, Superhero Battles, whatever creation went horribly wrong for Gyro, etc at least once a week. So he’s taken it upon himself to offer up the spare room to whoever can rent it.. and to steal Scrooge’s chandelier which even when caught he still takes anyway. Scrooge.. you called the guy a god-damn moocher in the season premiere, despite the fact he lives there soley because YOU offered and because he’s you know, being responsible and staying by his boys so they have their father figure around. So yeah I feel he’s doing this partly out of spite as is the McDuck way. I mean if your going to call him a freeloader just for being a responsible parent, then he’s going to take it up a damn notch.

Scrooge proceeds to laugh off Louie wanting a million dollars and gives him a dime instead because of course he was. Seriously Louie there are two other billionaires in town who are FAR dumber and far more easily swindled. Just go get star up capital from them. Hell with Glomgold all you’d have to do is tell him it’d upset scrooge and he’d literally throw money at you. Or give you a shark full of money. He needs the shark back though. He’s family.

Meanwhile Donald prepares for his new tenant and finds.. THE INCREDIBLE STORKULES! Who to his mounting horror as he realizes it, IS the new tenant. And who throws him into the sun. Cue credits.

So after Donald somehow survives being thrown into the sun, Storkules explains why he’s here: Zeus responded to his son playing the lute a lot like any rational reasonable

No of course he responded to the “crime” of “playing his instrument a lot” with sending a swarm of harpies on the town then blaming Storkules for it and casting him out. What’s most shocking is not the action, this is honestly him staying the course of being a fucking disgrace, but that Zeus somehow ISN’T the biggest asshole i’ve dealt with this week. No that honor is reserved as always for this bitch:

Keep in mind she manages to be this obnoxious in only TWO scenes. Also keep in mind I had to put up with Julie for a MUCH larger chunk of the previous two volumes I covered before volume 5 yesterday for my Scott Pilgrim Retrospective and she is ALWAYS like this and you now feel my pain.

This does create a problem though: Zeus casts Storkules out until he’s a responsible adult.. and thus paints Storkules as the bad guy... in a situation where the only other person in the story sent a swarm of HARPIES down at him for simply playing his music too loud. It just dosen’t work as a catalyst: Storkules objectively did nothing wrong. The only person he annoyed was a person who clearly dosen’t love, respect or like his son in any way shape or form anyway and essentially assaulted him and a bunch of innocent people via harpie and then cast him out. Zeus is an abusive asshole and i’ts weird the narrative sides with HIM and not our well meaning doofus. Zeus being an asshole with harpies is not a bad catalyst for the episode, and the harpies being unleashed is used well.. it’s just not a good catalyst for THIS story to try and portray an abuser as in the right. And make no mistake Zeus is a domestic abuser: he had his son mind controlled to try and MURDER innocent people, something Storkules begged him not to do, sent a swarm of creatures after him for the crime of playing his music too loud and in his next episode manipulatives Storkules sad emotional state for personal gain. Why would you try and paint THIS jackass as in the right?

Speaking of painting this jackass in the right sadly.. this episode does not do my boy donald justice. In most episodes he’s pretty nuanced and i’ts fair enough he’d be frustrated by Storkules as a roomate. Storkules has little sense of personal space, breaks his stove thinking theirs hydra in it, makes a mess of the kitchen making them a meal, and in general clearly dosen’t know how to live with a roomate much less in modern society. He has valid concerns and the episode COULD have used it that way.. but he’s also horribly impatient with Storkules. He refuses to get the guy just hasn’t had to live in a modern society and dosen’t know HOW to function in it and instead of helping him just gets mad again and again and gets really pissed when it’s clear Storkules dosen’t have a job and didn’t consider paying rent. He’s not WRONG to want him to pay Rent, despite what ironically the musical Rent would try and have you believe, but he dosen’t have any patience with the guy. And stork isn’t nearly coming on as strong as he normally does. The worst he does is cook the guy lunch and bring his donald fan art with him. Which we don’t see but I am assuming is mostly naked. What i’m saying is for once that while still bombastic, Storkules isn’t trying to force a relationship/friendship on him and simply wants to learn t be an adult from his best friend.. and Donald isn’t bothering teaching him.

Asking for rent or for him not to destroy the stove is fine, but not explaining WHY he needs either of those things or why he needs boundaries, he makes a roomate list, isn’t helping the guy. And this would be fine... but the episode dosen’t call Donald out on it for no real reason. It feels like it’s setting up for a “you should learn to wokrk with someone instead of just screaming at them aseop” that never comes and like with Zeus takes his side because shutup. I’d also LIKE to say this is the only time the writers reduced one of the cast to a caracture of themselves.. but I can’t. Several episodes in season 3 forgot Louie’s character development and another episode in season 2, The Duck Knight Returns!, somehow reduced both Scrooge and Dewey to parodies of themselves with Scrooge SOMEHOW, despite Della as stubborn as she is being in his care and by his side for decades and Movies bein ga huge business, not having seen a movie since the 1920′s and not knowing how they work and Dewey being reduced to just hyperactive moron. It isn’t as common as other shows like say Regular Show, The Loud House or, for the exact reason I lost intrest, Rick and Morty, but I still expect better, especially since they went into this season KNOWING Donald would be gone for half of it and this would likely be one of his only spotlight episodes.

Back at the good part of the plot, Louie is having a company meeting aka already treating Huey and Webby like his employees. Webby of course is glad to sign on, if little help in actually coming up with a product while Huey just wants to nope out. And if your wondering why Dewey isn’t involved Louie outright says he’d make a bad employee and while Dewey rises from his bed to object.. he stops halfway to opening his mouth and concludes he has a point. Best gag of the episode. Louie being louie easily cons Huey into staying by making Webby his charts officer.

So the three have a corporate retreat at Funso’s... granted they don’t have a product but Louie figures this might help. Huey.. still wants out of this and suggest since they already spent what they had on ski ball “Company over?”. It’s clear that Huey just sees this as another one of Louie’s short sighted schemes... and while he’s not ENITRELY wrong, Louie has genuine ambition.. he just has no earthly idea what he’s doing and is shooting way too high.. but for understandable reasons. 1) He’s 11 at this point. 11 year olds aren’t great at business strategy or reinging it in. 2) he wants to live up to what Scrooge said to prove he can be successful and really be worth something like his mom was.

But sometimes fate throws you one and the harpies bust in. And while Louie wants to do nothing and hope they go away Huey and Webby spring into action.. as does Storkules, who had to leave but warns donald there’s Orzo in the slowcooker and to not open it “LEST THE PASTA FAIL TO ABSORB THE BROTH!” Which is just.... Chris’ best line dleivery the episode. He says it like he’s saying the title of an old Stan Lee and Jack Kirby comic, i’ts wonderful.

So our heroes defeat them and Louie steps in to charge for the service and quickly comes up with a company idea and name “Harp-B-Gone” (A Subsidary of Louie Inc). Louie hires Storkules on the spot. Storkules proudly tells Donald he has a job the next day and goes off to it. What follows is our heroes hilarously shooting a commerical with Storkules playing a baby to promote themselves so they can help who needs it. They just need to find out what they want.. and thanks to the JWG and the harpies stealing it find out they go after people’s most treasured posessions Cue Ghostbusters-Style Montage

And this isn’t just me saying thing. The Rewriting History Entry (Which as a series weirdly stops around mid-season 2 and I don’t get why frank hasn’t gone back and finished it since) states they specifically based this whole operation on ghostbusters and the entire sequence of our heroes cleanin up the town reminds me of it. The highlight of it is a glomgold cameo where he’s kidnapped.. and refuses to pay so Louie just lets him go. And were this an innocent person who couldn’t afford it, i’d call him a monster.. but it’s glomgold. he brought this on himself.. and also sues himself for it. Wonder if he won.

So with their stars rising, our heroes get booked on the hottest show in town: Dewey Dew-Night! I had honestly forgotten there was a Dewey Dew-Night segment in there, and delighted I get to talk about this recurring bit. It’s one of the shows funniest runners and just perfectly FITS Dewey: of course the most egotistical and energetic of the kids would not only want to be a late hnight host but make up his own show. I also love the slow evolution of it: it started as something everyone clearly knew about but he stlill tried to keep hidden, slowly escalated to him allowing the rest of his siblings (Webby very much included) and the giant man who stalks his uncle in, and by later this season he’s putting the show online in the web shorts and gladly shooting it into space, with Season 3 having him spend the first half of let’s get dangerous making a documentary that includes an episode of the show featuring Darkwing. It’s a small thing sure, but it’s the little things like this that make the show special.

The show does reveal a problem though as it turns out they’ve GOT all the harpies and while Storkules merely wanted to help, Louie points out they need more to keep a buisness going and naturally never bothered to ask Storkules just how many there were. They need SOME plan to get going. Webby submits a legitamte and great idea, training the harpies as she’s been trying to do in the background of the episode and aside from a hole in the floor they are starting to listen. But Huey is an ass about it and not only shoots it down saying let’s keep the dangerous creatures contained, even though A) he has no idea WHERE they’ve been kept so he can’t verify it’s safe, and since i’ts Donald’s Closet no no it’s not. and B)There’s no where he knows of to keep them. He isn’t aware of the other bin till next season. and C) it’s not ehtical to keep creatures locked up forever epsecially since while the harpies are dangerous they arent’ MALEVOLENT and are clearly acting on instinct. oh and for D) at least she has a plan to keep the company going instead of just wanting to end this and cash out.

Which Huey tries to.. but naturally Louie spent all their money on...

So their broke.. and Storkules has no rent money and feels like a failure despite having done NOTHING wrong. We do get a clever little nod to Disney’s hercules though “I”m not a hero, i’m a zero”. Webby rightfully glares at Louie who decides to fix it... by sneaking into Donald’s house that night to free the harpies.

Though to the shows credit it’s a VERY bad idea, and Storkules coming in mid attempt and congradulating Louie when he lies about checking the door gets the kid to come clean. And it’s a nice character moment: He could still go through with it.. but it’s clear he realizes just HOW low he was about to sink to save his own skin and that as much as Storkules WANTS a paycheck and deserves one, it’s not worth hurting people to get it. Louie tries to justify after this.. but can’t.

Unforutnately Donald took a lot of stupid pills this episode, yells about his no pets rule and frees them instead of you know, THINKING for five minutes.

So yeah NATURALLY Donald is an angry shit about it , refusing to actually TALK to Storkules about this or maybe admit this is partly HIS OWN FAULT. Yes their both at fault, Storkules shoudln’t of shoved a bunch of harpies in a closet. That’s a classic blunder. But Donald still opened it and isn’t called out on taking zero responsibility. Huey sees the fracas and just takes down their days without an accident placard, good stuff and he and webby arrive to help. Donald fights with Storkules and Storkules worries about loosing his friend.. lead to them going after the thing he values most aka donlad and hyjacking the house boat, though the kids manage to get aboard.

As Storkules saves Donald, Louie realizes the most precious thing he has is his merch and willingly gives it, and his buisness up to save everyone. It’s good character stuff and shows that despite his problems with greed, Louie IS a good kid and will do the right thing. It’s what seperates him from the Rouges Gallery the family faces: He has FLEXIBLE morals but he has morals when it comes down to it. So everyone tosses the stoff to help direct the hapries and make it home tying them up. Donald has a heart to heart with Storkules and agrees to help him find another place, but still considers him a friend and they hug. Awww. One intresting thing I DID find out from rewriting history is they originally fully intended to have Storkules STAY on the houseboat. He was going to be a permenant member of the household, at least as far as Season 2 was concenred and plans were made for several episodes down the road: the whole bit with him in “The Golden Spear” was simply because he lived there, he was going to be the one Della met in the houseboat, obliviously guilting her about what she’d missed, and he was going to set off the kids subplot in “Whatever Happened to Donald Duck?”

This ended up not happneing for logistical reasons: Frank, and I swear this was the term he used, felt they already had the perfect Himbo in Launchpad and it was just too much HImbo energy for the two to coexist without one taking the others screen time or neither getting a lot.

The next reason was having a god around simply broke the story: He cited the gilded man from “Nothing Can Stop Della Duck!” as a specific example. There were just too many hoops to jump to have him not break any story he should be around for. Finally with Della being added to the cast soon there simply wasn’t room in the main cast. Della brought it up to 9, Storkules would make it 10, and as i’ve gone on about the show already had trouble ballancing it’s cast, something Frank admitted to. Adding him would both be too big a stiatus quo change and be one on top of the massive one of Della joining the cast. So he was dropped back to recurring and only showed up one more time. And while it was the right call I am dismayed he didn’t show up for the whatever happened to donald duck subplot and it does feel very weird he never adresses Donald being gone despite, at least for season 2, apparently living in Duckburg. Otherwise though as funny as this wouldv’e been.. yeah it was the right call.

Scrooge returns... having been absent all episode because otherwise it wouldn’t work and easily saw Louie loosing it all coming.. but gives him a can of lemonade for his troubles and comforts the boy. The heart of htis arc and what makes it work at it’s best.. is these two. Scrooge GENUINELY wants to help Louie see his potetial successor in buisness: oh sure adventure wise he’s throughly covered.. but Webby, Dewey and Della all are more focused on the addventure part and that’s where their passion and talent lies, Huey’s better at science and given his close frinedship with fenton and how much that part of things seems to truly inspire him, i’ts what he was born for, and Donald just wants a regualar life and can’t manage his own life much less a company.

Louie is the only one in his family whose the right fit to inhereit that part of his legacy and I feel that’s why he takes a special intrest in him and webby over the other two: While he loves all of them and will clearly again leave a piece of his fortune and empire to all of them, Webby is the most like him, as we later find out not coincidentally in the slightest, when it comes to adventuring and curosity and a love of exploration. But Louie is the most like him in other ways; He’s cynical, money driven and passionate. Scrooge simply wants him to be as good a person and buisnessperson as he can be and is trying to push him in the right direction. And does so here by pointing out that failure isn’t a huge problem..it happens, comes with the terriotiry and as we’ve seen with life and times, even with portions of it clearly not happening in this universe, he failed a LOT to get here. What matters is that he tries and tries to do it the right way.

Scrooge also sympathizes as he was buying a lemonade company in cape suzette, giving Louie the can as a present... but laments there’s no cheap effective way to deliver the lemons. Louie notices the harpies going after the can after he throws it and Webby controlling them with it and muses that theyd idn’t think about what THEY wanted.. nad rightfully gets punched across the lawn by Webby, whose had to spend an entire episode having her surrogate brothers talk down to her and ignore her valid ideas. She dosen’t even open her eyes she just bops him one.

So we end with Scrooge having enlisted the hapries, Louie trying to take credit again and both realizing they might just steal the lemons instead of work for them. Ha ha ha their going to get so sued.

Final Thoughts: This one was mediocre. It has some good points, Louies arc continues to fascenate me, Huey’s done with this shit attitude is hilarous, and Storkules is at his best in this episode: his crush on Donald is toned down from this..

To this

To the point I could see shipping them off this one if Storkules episode didn’t have him do eveyrthing short of .. well see above. So it’s not WITHOUT merit: I love me a ghost busters style plot, there are great jokes and Chris Dimatopolis is a gem as always. Glad he’s getting work after this show on Invincible and hope he gets to play Darkwing again some day. But the Donald stuff and the fairly predictable plot drag this one down. I’ts fairly obvious they’ll run out of harpies, Louie will have spent the money and they’ll somehow get free. It’s not a terrible episode but it’s it’s sandwiched story wise between two straight up classics on both sides: the previous two episodes were even better than I remembered and the next two are incredibly good: Whateve Happened to Della Duck?! is one of their finest hours and The Outlaw Scrooge McDuck, while not making my best of list for the series as a whole is still one of my favorites for the season. It’s just disapointing this one wasn’t nearly as good as I remmebered and it’s understandable why I forgot almost all of it, unlike the previous two episodes. Thankfully as I said better’s over the horizon.

NEXT TIME ON OF MOONS, MILLIONARES AND MOTHERS: I’m taking a break for a week. One of two weeklong breaks for the arc, the other being the first week of July where i’m on vacation anyway (Though i’ll be doing the episode I would’ve done for that week the week before to keep the pace up, so no worries),

As for why, it’s my utmost honor to announce GOOF WEEK! Goof Week is a weeklong celebration of Goofy’s birthday. The idea came about because as I do for the big three, I intended to just do a shorts special. But Kev , the guy who made this very review possible, suggested doing the two part Goof Troop pilot. And since kev pays for a house of mouth episode a month anyway and thaks to you lovely people I hit my patreon stretch goal to review the goofy movie, I figured “why not make a week out of it. Hence Goof week. So next week we’ll have a review of the two part pilot for Goof Troop, the special Sports Goof, the House of Mouse episode Super Goof, your regularly schedule shorts spectacular, with The Goofy Movie for the grand finale! yaaahoooooieeee!

When we come back i’ll be shuffling episodes around slightly so I can do the Della comics from the Ducktales Tie-In Comic before her debut and in time for Donald’s own theme week in June, i’ll be saving “Whatever Happened to Della Duck?” for the week after Donald Week. Instead next we get a fun wild west adventure as Scrooge tells a story of his outlaw days, his tension with goldie and his encounter with a certain robber baron as John D Rockerduck FINALLY makes his screen debut. Yee-Haw!

If you liked this review, subscribe and follow for more and consider joining my patroen, patreon.com/popculturebuffet. I have exclusive reviews, my most recent duck based one being an obscure carl barks story about wigs and the boys attempting to murder a guy with a blow gun, and your contribution helps me reach my goals and thus gets everyone, patreon or not, a bunch of neat new reviews. If you get me to 20 dollars a month, i’m currently at 15, EVERYONE will get a monthly darkwing duck reviews, reviews of the two remaning ducktales 87 mini series including the origin of GIZMOOOODDUUUUUCCCKKKK, and a review of the Danny Phantom movie The Ultimate Enemy. And with the month running out NOW’S the time to join. YOu’ll also get to pick one of the shorts for my Donald Duck birthday specail next month, so if you want to join in NOWS the time. But wether you can or you can’t, thank you for reading, i’ts been a pleasure.

#ducktales #louie duck #storkules in duckburg #dorkules #donald duck #storkules #scrooge mcduck #webby vanderquack #huey duck #flintheart glomgold #dewey duck #funzos #disney #disney+#disney plus #disney xd #harpies

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maddogofshimano · 3 years

Text

Lee Wen Hai Character Story

Minor Y0 Spoilers

Alright it’s been a little bit but I was doing other nonsense like ripping all the substory text out of Y0. Anyways!

Sotenbori’s God Hand, Lee Wen Hai. I really love this dude.

Summary: Lee is attempting to leave his life as a hitman behind for good, but a local organized crime group’s executive is asking him to do one more job. Things get messy, which is exactly what Lee was worried about.

<A few months after Makoto began working with Lee Wen Hai> Lee: Ya don't gotta push with much force. Just let your body weight handle it.

Makoto: Don't use force, use my body weight... umm, like this?

Lee: Nah, you're bein' too timid about it. Don't worry about hurtin' your old man none. (Tl note: I had to re-read this line a LOT but I’m like 90% sure Lee is just straight up calling himself her dad) Makoto: Y... Yes sir! Lee: ....Oh, that's gettin' a bit better. Now, your palm is one half of a conversation with the muscles. Makoto: There's a lot to massages, isn't there...! I'll study hard! Lee: Though, why do ya wanna do massages anyways? You're my guest, ya know it's fine if ya don't work, right? Makoto: You've done so much or me, I can't help but feel a little guilty... So I'd like to be helpful to you Lee-san, even if only a little. Lee: (After all the awful shit she's gone through, she's still a good kid...) Makoto: I've got a an older brother. He's really smart, and a hard worker so... I hope I can become more like him. Makoto: ....Lee-san, you remind me a little of my brother. Lee: Heh... So this brother, ya came over to Japan together? Makoto: No... when I was just a child, my brother disappeared... I haven't seen him since. Makoto: However, for some reason he showed up in Japan... Eventually, somewhere in Japan, I'm sure I'll meet him again. Lee: ...Alright. I'll help ya look for him too. It may not seem it, but I got some connections I can pull scattered all over. Makoto: Th-That's... I could never ask you to go that far... Lee: I'm your stand-in dad... nah, I'm standing in for your older brother. It may be corny, but you can rely on me for anythin'. (Tl note: the term Lee uses here is actually foster father, but it was hard to word well with the bit about her brother) Lee: So let's get lookin' for your real brother then.

Makoto: Lee-san... Lee: ...Huh? Y-You're cryin'!? I wasn't tryin' to make ya cry! Makoto: It's just... Since I came to Japan, I've never been treated this kindly... Lee: Geez, uh, I'm really no good when girls cry! I'm beggin ya, don't cry any more! Makoto: Okay... sorry... Lee: I was seriously... Organization Executive: Yo, am I interrupting? (Tl note: They’re pretty vague on things for a long time, but he’s part of the yakuza, so I’ll use appropriate terms so I don’t have to say “organization” over and over to stay generic) Makoto: Ah... welcome! Lee: ....Makoto, today's lesson is finished. How bout you head on home first. Makoto: Ah, yes sir. Thank you for today... Exec: That girl, seems like she can't see. Where'd you find her?

Lee: It's got nothin' to do with you. Why'd ya come here today anyways. If it's about a "job", you're barkin' up the wrong tree. I ain't in that business anymore. Exec: Haw? What do you mean? Lee: I mean exactly what I said. I ain't takin' "jobs" anymore. Exec: And would that possibly be... because of that girl? Lee: That ain't related. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that I've already decided that I ain't gonna do it! Exec: ...Well, you do have the freedom to go from a hitman to a civilian. In the end, however, you'll agree to take this contract. Exec: In the same way that blood and law are tied together, so too is our organization and its members. ...Still, your case is pretty straight forward. Lee: What do ya mean? Exec: You know too much of the underbelly of the organization. You know what that entails. Lee: .......... Exec: As a talented hitman, you could leisurely stroll around Sotenbori. Now that you're a civilian however..... Lee: The well informed acupuncturist will get erased, is what you're sayin'. Exec: That's it exactly. Lee: Heh, I already knew I was riskin' getting snuffed. Ain't the first threat of it, and it don't change how I feel. Exec: You're a stubborn bastard huh... Well, ultimately you'll help me with my job. Lee: What makes ya say that? Exec: Despite how I look, I'm an executive in the organization. I can talk to any of the higher ups directly. Exec: All I have to say is that this civilian's been meddling. Of course, I'd rather you just clean up this job. Lee: I've already decided I ain't killin' anymore. How many times do I gotta tell ya, I ain't takin' that job! Exec: It's fine if you don't kill. Really, I just want you to get a little violent. Lee: Huh....? <They head out> Exec: Inside this bar is a gang that I want you to knock around. Of course, it's fine if you don't kill them.

Lee: ...Is that really gonna be okay? Exec: Mhm, this job will be a cinch for you. ...Of course, I tried to tell you that. You just didn't want to listen. Lee: When it's a job from guys like you, it's never been simple... <he goes inside the bar> Lee: Pardon the intrusion.

Goon: Eh? Geezers ain't allowed in this bar. You can go drink cheap booze with your own family.

Goon 2: We're renting the place out right now. Before you get scared shitless, don't you think it'd be a good idea to head on home? Lee: Heh... you brats sure have a mouth on ya. Too bad I went and grew a conscious before I could bury ya. Goon: What the hell did you say! You want us to throw you out on your ass!? <fight, Lee crushes them> Goon: G-Guh.....

Lee: What, it's already over? That gang was all bark and no bite. Exec: Finished? Lee: Yeah, they won't be standin' up any time soon. I stopped before it got to anythin' dangerous. Exec: As expected, you did everything exactly to the letter. It'll be quick to get them to cough up what I'm after. Exec: Oi! You two, do you know a man called Iwai? That asshole has something he was supposed to be watching. Goon 2: I-Iwai, it's been a long time since we've seen him..... Exec: Covering for him isn't going to be good for you! If you don't want to die, hurry up and spit it out! Goon 2: Honest! I'm serious, I don't know any more than that! Exec: Tch...... Hey, what do you think!? Is Iwai going to come here!? Goon: He won't...! He ran off to join some family and totally cut ties with us! Exec: ....Lee, these bastards, do you think they're lying? Lee: Hmm. Well, this group ain't exactly fearless. The whole crew is already pissin' their pants. Exec: Looks like they really are separate... <they head back outside> Lee: This job's done. Well, I'm headin' home.

Exec: No, the job isn't over yet. I know it's a bother, but I'll need you to stick with me a little while longer. Lee: Oi... you're changin' our deal. I just did your damn job! Exec: I told you this job was to tidy things up. That was supposed to clean things up, but the plan went off the rails. Lee: Piece of shit... Exec: Let's get going to our next destination then. Or would you rather I speak with my higher ups? Lee: That's different than what ya said earlier. You're a real weaselly guy. Exec: Let's say that you don't continue with this job, this world wouldn't speak kindly of that, right? Lee: You're gettin' ahead of yourself. Whackin' some chinpira is one thing, sniffin' after the Osaka yakuza will land ya in a world of hurt. Lee: Even if ya take me along as a body guard, there's nothin' stoppin' your business partner from pumpin' ya fulla lead. Lee: The jobs ya bring me are always this way. Without exception they're a pain in the ass that I get tangled up in. Exec: And yet you always get them done in the end, don't you? I'm going to buy that arm of yours once more. Exec: I'm begging you, Lee. Lend me your power one more time. Lee: ......I had just stopped stickin' my neck out like this and ya had to go and say stuff like that... Lee: I just gotta know somethin'. What is it that you're chasin' down? Exec: Our group's stolen cash... 200,000,000 yen. Lee: Hmm... that is a hefty sum. Exec: The amount doesn't matter to our organization, it's our pride that's been wounded. We absolutely must get that money back. Exec: If the money is returned via your cooperation, then my organization will no longer be able to touch you. Doesn't that sound like a good job? Lee: Keh, so that's your game. Awful patronizin' to say it that way. Lee: ....Eh, whatever. This is the last time I'll be workin' with ya. <END PART 1>

Exec: Ora! <punch>

Exec: Cough it up already, Iwai! <punch> Iwai: ......... Exec: There you have it. No matter how many times he's beaten he's not talking. Hmm... I guess these fists just aren't going to cut it. Exec: These guys that don't squeal, they really know how to take a hit. Well, no use beating on him for no reason. Lee: And this guy, he's the mastermind that ran off with your cash? Exec: Mhm, by the time I caught wind of it, he'd already hidden the money. Lee: What a lousy job. Exec: My kyoudai was preparing our payment to the government. To get him out of that jam, I have to keep looking. (Tl note: I’m assuming it’s a bribe, but I’m not actually sure! It might be a tributary payment up to the main branch but I can’t find much one way or the other on that) Lee: So you're coverin' for your kyoudai, huh. Exec: I agree that this job isn't worth it. But, for my kyoudai's sake, I'm going to keep searching for that cash. Exec: This guy's in a totally different league from that gang. No matter how much you torture him, he's not going to cough up the location. Lee: Hey, lemme have a go at squeezin’ it outta him. Exec: Sure, be my guest. I'm going to go ice my knuckles.

Lee: Well then... Iwai-san, let's get started. Nice to meet ya. Iwai: .............. <fade to black> Lee: Ya don't wanna know what kinda torture I got. Ya should talk fast. Iwai: ................. Lee: Do ya intend to stay quiet till ya croak? If that's your decision, ya gotta know you'll be tortured the whole time. Iwai: ............... Lee: If ya really ain't gonna talk, you've got some guts. Unfortunately no amount of guts or backbone is gonna get ya outta this. Iwai: .............. Lee: Eh, I get the picture. Well, let's get started. First off the nerves in your shoulder. Give ya a taste of the painful death you've settled on. Iwai: .............. Lee: (.....Hm?) Iwai: ...........? Lee: I couldn't recognize ya with how bad your face is swollen. You've been to Hogushi Kaikan before. I recognize the feel of this. Iwai: ............ Lee: Yeah, your shoulder was always real stiff. I'm rememberin' it now. ...Say, didn't ya always come by with a skinny lady? Iwai: ............. Lee: Ya both came in durin' the middle of the day smellin' like cheap soap. In the middle of the dry skin on her back, there's a bodhisattva inked in. Iwai: ............. Lee: Yeah, a soapland worker. Think I outta make her aware of this? Iwai: She's got nothing to do with this! Lee: Finally ya gave me somethin'. Though it wasn't very clear. Seems like that cash, well it must be hidin' in the same place as that soapland worker. Iwai: She really has nothing to do with this! Believe me! Lee: Seems I'll have to go hear that from her myself. Once I get there, I'll do some lookin' around. Iwai: I-I'm begging...! She... That woman, please forget about her! Lee: Man, you're a real fool. Not only did ya fall for a soapland worker, ya went and gave her all the family's cash too. Lee: And what, ya planned on stayin' silent till ya got beaten to death? Iwai: With all that money... she wouldn't have to work that job anymore... At least, that's what I thought... Lee: You really are a dang idiot... But, I'm the same kind of guy.

Iwai: Eh...? Lee: Hang tight. <Lee leaves> Exec: Oh? Did you get him to spill?

Lee: He said he left it at a soapland. Exec: Haw!? Of all the stupid shit. That bastard, does he think this is a game! Lee: Yeah, he probably does. Still, only one way to be sure. <Lee leaves> Barker: Sir, sir, would you like to spend some time playing today?

Lee: Yeah, I think I will. I think I'll pick a lady who's inked up with a bodhisattva. Barker: Huh...? Lee: It's a pretty flashy tat. I'm sure ya know which shop she's in. Barker: Wh-What are you saying! Do you think I know every single soapland worker around here!? Lee: If that's the case I'll just have to search through 'em all myself. I might as well start with your shop and give it an examination. Barker: A-A weird customer is on his way over! Please, get the conflict resolution people! Yakuza: Hello, we're this area's "conflict resolution" people. Sir, I'm afraid you're making a bit of a scene.

Yakuza 2: If you're determined to play anyways, how about you play with us instead? Though, our play time might get a little rough for an old timer like you. Lee: You got some soft 'n' green asses. I'll have to work 'em over a lil. (Tl note: Lee says their asses are green and mochi-like, and that he's going to 揉む them a little which is. uh. usually rub/massage. fellas the homoeroticism of this posturing is pretty intense) <they fight> Yakuza: Wh, some other family's messing with us! Someone, phone HQ for reinforcements....!

Lee: Aww, don't go kickin' up a fuss. We were just playin' around. Lee: I ain't gonna cause another racket on your turf. I'm just looking for a soapland lady who's got a bodhisattva tattoo. Yakuza: Bodhisattva tattoo... Lee: Seems like ya know her. Which shop? Yakuza: The discount shop on the first corner.... Her name is... Niru, I'm pretty sure.... Lee: Niru, huh. Thanks, that helps. <he goes> Lee: Pardon me.

Niru: Eh....?

Lee: So you're Niru-san, huh. This shop seems to be pretty empty. Niru: Who are you... you’re that massage shop's... You're... not a customer, are you. Lee: Hey, Iwai told me to come here for somethin'. Niru: ............. Lee: He gave ya somethin' to hold onto. He needs ya to hand it over to me. Niru: I-I don't know what you’re talking about... I'm not holding onto anything... Lee: Well that's a lie. Right now there's gonna be a mess of problems if ya don't hand it over. Niru: Problems... Lee: Do ya wanna end up fish food in the Sotenbori River? Niru: .....! Lee: That's the kinda thing you're dealin' with here. If ya understand that, just cooperate and hand it over. Niru: ......... <suitcase hits the ground> Niru: That person, he brought that suitcase and promised he'd be back to see me later... but, it's been more than two days since I've seen him... Lee: Did ya look inside it? Niru: No... Lee: That's good. See ya. <Lee leaves> Niru: Th-That man, what happened to him!? Is he okay!? Please! Don't kill that man! Exec: Ohh, you got it all back! What kind of torture did it take to get it!?

Lee: It took something much more painful than torture. Exec: Hehe, well, as long as the money's returned, it's all good! Though, was it really being held onto by a soapland worker.... Iwai: ......... Lee: I've got somethin' I need ya to do. Help this man out. Exec: Huh? After this guy took my family's cash? There's no way I can keep the blame off of him. Lee: I ain't askin’. Exec: Oy oy, what's all this about. Whether this jackass lives or dies, that doesn't really affect you does it? Lee: He made a promise to his girl. Exec: A promise....? Hahaha! Man, are you a weirdo or what!? Iwai: Ugh.... Lee: Huh...! Exec: Of course I'm going to kill him! And I'm going to kill that soapland worker too! And then... <pistol noise> Lee: Guh...! Exec: I'll kill you too. Lee Wen Hai. <END PART 2>

Lee: Guh... Exec: Hehehe... The professional killer Lee, putting another person's life above his own. Are you getting senile? Lee: Mother fucker! Exec: Uh oh, looks like you can't move. Must be from that hole through your stomach. Lee: You planned on killin' me from the start...! Exec: I'd heard you'd stopped taking jobs after you picked up that girl. It was pretty clear that you wanted to wash your hands of this business. Exec: That made this the perfect time to ask you to do this "job". Lee: ....... Exec: This cash really was stolen from my organization. But, it's not my kyoudai's cash. It was being prepared by an asshole I despise. Exec: That arrogant bastard came preaching to me about preparing his 100 million. I got so mad that I wanted to kill him. Exec: So that got me thinking. Who was stupid enough that I could tempt into stealing the payment? Lee: That idiot, he was... Exec: Mhm, and that man, he's the driver for that arrogant bastard. He's stupid and always having money trouble, so he was the ideal piece. Exec: I went to talk to him at his hideout with his crew. Exec: The suitcase I had with me had around 100 million yen in it, but I was being pretty careless. Lee: ................. Exec: And then of course that moron really went and took the money and fled. After that, I had to figure out what bait to use. Exec: He'd be captured wherever he was hiding. After he was disposed of, I'd use that money to gain favor in the family. Exec: That insufferable bastard would be disgraced... and everything would be perfect for me to advance. Exec: I didn't expect him to hand two hundred million yen over to that soapland worker... That guy, he's really a bigger idiot than I could have imagined. Lee: That's a shitty picture you've just painted. I did learn one thing from it... Exec: Ah, thank you. ...Well, that's enough of my bragging. Exec: I'll be sure to pass along the information about you. "He became a civilian and has run off somewhere" is what I'll say.

Lee: Ya really don't get it. It turns out, you're the one with no end game here. Exec: Oh...? Are you going to be a sore loser right at the end? Lee: Earlier, why didn't ya follow me when I went out? Exec: Nobody would believe that all that money had been entrusted to a soapland worker. But, with that in mind, how is my endgame a problem? Lee: When I was out I called your organization. Exec: Haw...!? Lee: When an organization is tryin' to retrieve cash, they don't make moves by themselves. Normally, they use foot soldiers. Lee: Plus, I was angry that I had already gone back on my promise to stop doin' this sort of thing. I figured I should know what kind of shape the family was in. Lee: And ya wanna know what one of your boys over there told me that really surprised me? <stabbing sound> Exec: Y-You piece of shit...! How did you...! Exec: Guh! Shit, the gun...! Lee: C'mon ya amateur, yer gettin' shaken and flustered. If it's me throwin' needles, it's more accurate than any gun.

Exec: Flustered...? That stuff about calling my family was a lie!? Lee: I really did call 'em. In fact, they're gonna be here soon. Exec: Wh-... Lee: I didn't expect ya to put a hole in my gut though... Ah well, I can handle a handicap. Exec: Handicap....? Lee: I'm gonna kick your ass before your organization shows up! If I'm workin' with this sorta handicap, it should make for a good fight! <they fight, Lee does in fact kick his ass> Exec: Gah....

Lee: Guess a single hole wasn't enough of a handicap. The guys from your organization haven't even shown yet. Lee: ...Hey, Iwai, you still alive? Iwai: G-Guh... Lee: Seems like bein' that stupid has made ya real tough. The members of your organization will be here soon. Ya better scram before it's too late. Iwai: I-... Is that okay..? Lee: Ya made that lady a promise. If ya break it you'll never sleep easy again. I'll smooth talk the boys. Get outta here. Iwai: I-I'm in your debt! <Iwai leaves> Lee: That guy also had a hole through his guts... He really is powerfully stupid. (Tl note: the line kind of implies he’s powerful because he’s stupid) Exec: Heh..... People sure do change when they get involved with a woman... Lee: Ah? You're already awake. Ya lookin' for round two? Exec: Don't even joke about it... Though, it is a relief... Lee: What is? Exec: That softness... it's going to kill you one of these days... I think before too long, we'll meet each other again in hell...

Lee: Say what ya like. I ain't dyin'. <door opens and the family boys come in> Goon: ...Oh, ouch. Our backstabber looks like shit.

Goon: You're an executive too. When someone betrays our organization... I'm sure you know what happens...? Exec: Shut up... Just do whatever you like to me, I don't care... Goon: Fine by me! Boys, end him! <beating noises> Another Exec: You're the hitman, Lee? Where's the money?

Lee: Here it is. Seems like it's all accounted for. Exec 2: ...Sure enough. Where is the man who took the money? The kid who drove for me. Lee: Ah, that matter has already been cleaned up Mr. Executive. If ya'd like to find him, maybe try lookin' around the mountains next year? Exec 2: ...That's good. You've done me a favor. If you ever need one in return, you need only ask. Lee: I think I got one thing ya can do for me in return. Exec 2: What's that? Lee: I'm becomin' a civilian. I'd like for ya to square that away. Exec 2: Is that all? Lee: Yep, just that. Exec 2: ...Understood. I’ll handle it. I'll stake my honor on it. Lee: Well, if that's all, I'm gonna head on home. <Lee starts to leave> Lee: ...Ah, if ya ever have any aches and pains come see me. I'll fix ya up at Sotenbori's Hogushi Kaikan.

Exec 2: Haha... Yeah, I'll stop by next time I'm in the area.

Makoto: Press with my own body weight...

Lee: Oh, that's feelin' just right. Ya got some surprising talent for this. Makoto: Do you really think so!? I've been practicing on our regulars during lunch hours, so maybe that's why I've improved this much. Lee: Heh, and now we got even more regulars. Makoto: Yeah, like that one lady. She always smells like really nice soap. Lee: ...That customer, has she been comin' in alone? Makoto: Yes, by herself... Why do you ask? Lee: Nah, it's nothin'. I'm always happy to get more regulars. Makoto: This time she did say she wanted a massage from you, Lee-san. It sounded like she might be someone you've met before. Lee: (The soapland worker? I wonder if she'll ask me about that idiot man next time we meet...) Lee: ...Next time that customer comes in askin' for me, tell her I ain't gonna do it. Lee: I'd rather my apprentice get in some more practice. Makoto: Hehe, sure. Lee: Outside of that, anythin' odd happen? Makoto: Anything odd? Hmmmm, nothing recently. Lee: Alright. That's good. Though, if anythin' does happen tell me right... OW!? Makoto: Eh...!? Lee: That's where the gun... I mean, that's where I had a surgery! The wound opened! Makoto: I-I'm so sorry! Lee: I got a serious request... Let's start this from the beginning! Today's trainin' will be tough! Makoto: Yes sir! I'm ready to go!

<END>

Bonus time: man, Lee just can’t catch a break! it’s really interesting seeing this and the sugoroku event, Lee keeps sticking his neck out for people because he’s a good dude and it always goes to shit but he just keeps doing it anyways! I love him. After years and years and years of Kiryu dancing around ever saying he’s Haruka’s dad I was so taken aback by Lee just saying it outright. It hasn’t even been that long!

also ouch! what a called shot by that exec! I hate that he’s completely right

I’m not really sure what happened to the other 100 mil, since 200 mil did get mentioned twice, or if I just misread something? It’d make sense if it were 100 mil from each executive but it was not super clear to me. I’m also not sure if Makoto saying that Niru smelled like really nice soap implies that Iwai did get her 100 mil still, or if it’s just a difference in world view where Lee thinks it smells cheap and Makoto thinks it’s nice. Iwai wasn’t with her, and she still smells like soap at noon, so I’m leaning towards her not getting the money

during the Y0 event they had The Grand as a location you could send teams to so they’d gather items for you. I sent Lee and..........

Lee. Lee I think they need those. Lee c’mon.

actually... were... were those just lying around in the Grand...? 😳😳😳

#yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #Lee #Lee Wen Hai #ryu ga gotoku online #rggo #Makoto #Makoto Makimura #hello to all the new followers too!#I am here to give you more Lee content #yakuza 0

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anjuschiffer · 3 years

Text

It’s finally the New Year! What other way to celebrate than to write for Day 1 of @timari-month-event New Years Day? :D

Day 1 : New Years Day

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Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

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AO3

Cass poked her head through the common room’s doorway, surprised to see that Dick had managed to have everyone over at his apartment.

To be honest, Cass thought he wouldn’t be able to get everyone under one roof. Then again, this was Dick, everyone’s favorite person...well, almost everyone’s.

“Cass, so that's where you’ve been.” Kate said from behind her, Cass turning to see her ‘aunt.’ “This is your first time, isn’t it? Celebrating New Years, that is.” Cass nodded at that.

She honestly didn’t know what to think about this “New Years” celebration Dick wanted everyone to be a part of, how excited he was to be able to greet the new year as a family.

It was just another event that only marked the end of a year and the beginning of another. Why celebrate it?

Cass snapped from her thoughts when Kate chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright Cass. Don’t think too hard about it. Just enjoy yourself. Perhaps you’ll understand then.”

Cass nodded, watching as Kate walked away to join the others.

She watched as she sat diagonally from Bruce, Selina and Alfred, the quartet of adults observing the other “supposed” adults and children.

“Grapes? Why would you wish using grapes? They don’t hold any magical power.” Damian asked as Dick handed him a bowl with 12 grapes in jt.

“Good question. Why grapes?” Duke asked no one, proceeding to just eat them. “Why not star fruit?”

“I-I actually don’t know.” Dick shyly confesses, deciding to just leave the grapes at the center of the coffee table for people to just grab.

“It actually started as an advertising tactic for farmers to sell their grape harvests in the 19 century in Spain.” Jason said, eyeing his own bowl of 12 grapes. “Later on in the early 20th century, the grapes symbolize good luck, so the people started to eat them after the start of a New Year in hopes of having good luck.”

“In other words, wishful thinking and superstition?” Stephanie asked.

“Yup.” Jason munched on a few grapes. “ there are a few people who additionally do it to ward off evil.”

“So just superstition.” Duke clarifies. “What a waste of good grapes.”

“-can believe it! There’s only five minutes left until the new year!” The woman on the television screen squealed, capturing everyone's attention. The screen then switched cameras to show the packed street of Times Square, hundreds -if not thousands- of people waving at the camera as it panned around them.

“Does everyone have their glass of champagne?” Dick asked, watching as everyone lifted their glass. “Babs, I thought you didn’t drink?”

“And neither does Tim, Damian, Duke and Steph and yet you still gave them one.” Dick started to panic at that.

After all, they’re still minors, even if by a few months away from being either 21 or 18.

“Damian, Duke, Steph, Tim! I need those- wait. Where is Tim?” Dick asked.

“Wait, he was invited?” Jason asked.

“Of course I did! He’s part of the-“

“Three minutes left!”

“Well, too late to ask him to join us. Well just have to greet the new year without him.” Steph said.

“His lost.” Damian added, keeping a grin to himself.

“One minute!”

“FaceTime?” Dick asked, the family ignoring him as they intently watched the woman on the screen beginning to count down.

Cass watched Dick panic around while the rest of the family continued to watch the television.

She noticed Bruce and Selina signal her to come closer, which she did, the two of them pulling her to sit in between them.

Cass fidgeted a bit, adjusting to the affection.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!”

“Are we really-“

“Five! Four! Three!

Two!

One!

Happy New Year!” The lady announced, hugging her news partner.

“Happy New Year.” The family said in unison, lifting their glasses in sync before everyone took a sip. Of course, a few idiots chugged it down.

Or at least attempted to.

As soon as Jason had chugged half of his champagne, he sputtered about, Babs chuckling in the back while Duke and Steph tried to help him.

“Todd. How dare you waste-“

“Replacement.” He wheezed out, pointing to the screen. “He’s-“ he then began to cough.

Everyone turned to look at the screen wondering what he meant because there on the screen were just couples kissing. Tim wasn’t-

“Well you look at that.” Selina said with a grin.

“Is he serious?” Duke asked, burying his face into his hands.

“Apparently so.” Steph grinned.

There, the farthest corner of the screen was Tim, or rather, Red Robin kissing a girl who wore a hoodie that resembled Red Robin’s. Midnight hair peeled from out of the hood and she wore a red domino mask.

“Did anyone know he was going to do this?” Kate asked. Everyone turned to Alfred.

“Master Tim only told me he was visiting his girlfriend. He never told me he was going to pull this stunt.” Alfred took a sip of his tea. “But we should congratulate the chap. He may not be celebrating with us, but at least he’s celebrating the New Year with someone he loves.”

-How it happened-

Tim was double checking his list, making sure he had everything before heading downstairs.

Despite Dick wanting everyone over at his apartment to spend New Years Eve together, Tim already had plans, plans he had arranged weeks prior.

“Master Tim. Are you heading out?” Alfred asked him, Tim taken aback by Alfred’s...lack of a suit. “Master Tim?”

“Sorry Alfred. It’s just...I’ve never seen you out of a suit so...it suits you.” Was all Tim was able to say. Instead of his tidy and fitted butler suit, Alfred was wearing a very...grandfatherly outfit.

White shirt, gray cardigan, brown jacket and a dark gray pair of slacks. A pair of loafers and a flat cap sealed the deal.

“Well, Miss Marinette gifted me this jacket this Christmas. I thought I would wear it for this occasion. The inner pocket is my favorite detail.”

Alfred showed Tim the inner pocket, the pocket having different swirl embroidery. But upon a closer inspection, each different colored thread was a different family member’s name. Tim’s name was embroidered in a steel blue.

“What a very Marinette thing for her to do.” Tim said with a smile, beaming at her talent. That’s when he remembered about where he was heading. He took out his phone and fought a scowl when he realized he was running behind schedule.

“Judging by your scowl, I’m guessing you’re late to where you’re heading to.”

“I am a bit behind schedule. But I’ll manage.” Tim said, shifting the bag on his shoulder. He didn’t know why, but something told him to say it. “I’m going to New York to meet up with Marinette. We've been planning this for a few months and thought we should meet up for New Year’s Eve. We’ve got a few places in mind and we’re hoping everything-“

“It’s going to be fine.” Alfred assures Tim, not once mentioning his rambling. “Now go. You wouldn’t want to make Miss Marinette wait any longer, now would you?”

Tim nodded, saying goodbye to Alfred and running to catch the nearest cab to get to the nearest bus to take him to New York.

After a two hour trip, Tim stood by an odd mechanism trapped inside an acrylic case.

He wanted to make sure where he was headed before leaving the 42 St Port Authority. After all, he had only been to Times Square a few times in his life.

“Tim!” Marinette called out, Tim looking up from his phone to see Marinette running up to him.

A grin grew on his face as he caught Marinette, twirling her.

“Hey. Aren’t you half an hour early?”

“Maybe you're just late.” Marinette grinned.

Tim sighed at the Into the Spiderverse reference until he noticed her outfit.

She was wearing a red dress, the most obvious piece, but it was her wrap cape that caught his attention. The front piece was red in color while the rest of the cape was black. But it was the hidden accents of gold and the single golden robin crest at the center that intrigued him the most.

“Is that-“

“A Red Robin inspired outfit?” Marinette grinned. “Yes, yes it is. After all,” Marinette leaned over Tim’s ear. “He’s my favorite.” She purred, fighting off a giggle when she saw Tim’s face red from ear to ear.

“We should be on our way.” Tim managed to say, leading Marinette out the building and onto Edge Tower.

—

The duo went on their mini date at Edge Tower, Marinette not surprised when she found out that Tim rented out the entire place for the hour.

Marinette ran up to the edge of the balcony, not believing how high up they were. While Ladybug was able to get up on high places like this with ease, it was a whole different experience as Marinette.

She leaned into the cold air, a smile across her face as the wind blew.

“You’d think you’d get used to things like this.” Tim said, as if reading her mind, leaning against the rail right next to her.

“But no matter how many times you see the same view, it’s always breathtaking.” Marinette replied, turning to face him.

“Just like you are.” Tim enjoyed the way Marinette flushed red, causing him to chuckle. He tucked a loose hair strand behind her ear. “How about we take a picture to remember this?”

And so they did.

—

The thing with it being New Years Eve, all the places were packed, even otherwise empty food courts and the edge of the Hudson River.

After a while, the two ended up heading back to Times Square, a decision they soon regretted.

They ended up being caught in the swarm of people who had been camping in the area for a day...or two...or three…

One of them thought they had already been there and allowed them to slip through and by the time the duo realized that they were being pushed further deeper into the area, it was too late for them to get out. More people started to gather around them, the area packed to the brim with New Yorkers and tourists alike.

Seeing as they were stuck there, Marinette and Tim decided to make the best of it and went along with the crowd, waiting for hours until a few minutes were left before the start of the new year.

“Hey Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m...I’m kinda glad we decided to meet here today.”

“So do I. Although, I do feel guilty for not telling Dick that I wasn’t going to be able accept his invitation to spend the eve with him and the rest of the family.” Tim confessed, Marinette giving his hand a squeeze.

They remained like that for a while before Tim turned to her.

“Marinette, there’s something I have to say.”

“What is it?”

“I just wanted to say, thank you. Thank you for being by my side this year.” He heard someone say that there were three minutes left. He cupped her face between his hands. “Thank you for being part of my life.”

As Tim leaned forward, Marinette stopped him, Tim wondering if he did something wrong. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“Tim. I think you’re forgetting something.” Marinette said, placing a domino mask over his eyes and one on herself. “There. Now the press won’t be bothering you tomorrow.”

“The press? Why-“

“Tim. How did you forget that you're the CEO of Wayne Enterprise? Seriously, how can you forget that?” Marinette huffed.

It was then that the two realized that the crowd had begun to count down.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

“Should we pick up where we left off?” Marinette asked, letting out a yelp when Tim brought her closer to him.

“Six! Five ! Four!”

“Let’s.” Tim’s said, leaning forward towards Marinette.

“Two!

One!”

Their lips met.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

#maribat #timari january 2021 #timari #timari month

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moonbeambucky · 4 years

Text

Hey Neighbor (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1907 Warnings: none

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: What started as an idea back in 2017 is finally here and I’m so excited!! I hope you love it as much as I do! A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira and to Allie @all1e23 who’s helped me keep my sanity while trying to write. Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

For an August evening it’s surprisingly comfortable, devoid of that awful humidity that leaves you choking on the thickness in the air. Yet it’s still warm enough to quickly melt the ice in your glass; condensation pooling on the outside, leaving a ring of water on the small stack of papers your drink is settled on.

Golden toned clouds cover the sky as the sun begins to fade, each day decreasing its presence by a few minutes before giving way to the darkness that would envelope the evening. It wasn’t a dramatic change, nor was it something most people would pay attention to, though it was something you had been accustomed to taking note of.

You looked forward to seeing the sun, feeling its heat on your skin as you stepped out of the office after a long day of work. As other people on the street rushed towards the subway you stood off to the side, letting your spirit recharge with its warm glow.

These days you seldom had time for yourself, moments when you could enjoy the nothingness, where you could stop and breathe, and take in the world around you. The murmured voices of the passersby, the hissing sound of the bus as it opens its doors, the soft strum of a guitar, the endless car horns and the sound of traffic that keeps this city alive like a beating heart.

The heat of your laptop warmed your thighs as you thumbed through a textbook. You ignored your rumbling stomach that begged you for a real dinner but you were determined to finish up this last part of your paper before you gave in to its whining demands.

You were working towards your Master’s Degree in Social Work but it had taken a lot longer than you expected, and juggling a full time job while taking part time classes made it more difficult but you were determined to achieve your dream.

You thought it would be simple when you first moved to New York; go to college, get your degree and find a job. Well, life has a funny way of doing what it wants despite the plans you imagined. Halfway through getting your undergraduate degree your living arrangements changed. Initially you were sharing an apartment with a few other students but your landlord hadn’t told you he was months into foreclosure and suddenly you found yourself scrambling to find a place to live.

The first instinct you had was to ask your current roommates if you all wanted to find something else together but one of them planned on moving in with a friend temporarily since she was about to graduate and the other wanted to live alone. You scoured the internet for another room rental but nothing looked safe or legitimate, and searching through Facebook groups for student rentals was fruitless. Nothing was available considering it was the middle of the semester, so you quickly began an apartment search.

Your definition of expensive drastically changed since moving to New York. Even simple things like food and coffee had an up charge; a small, no– large price to pay for city living, and rent was no different. You thought what you were paying to live in a small room was a lot, but as you searched for apartments your heart dropped. Even the smallest studio cost thousands a month.

There was one that caught your eye, the price was decent but still more than what you were currently paying. You attempted to work out a plan, thinking you could use some money from what little savings you had to make up the difference for the first month or two and hope your part time job would increase your hours. Things would be tight but there was a chance you could make it happen.

Your hope was crushed the next day when you went to see the apartment, a five story walk up that reeked of musty water. The cracked plaster walls were very off putting as were the suspicious black spots along the baseboards. The bathroom was much smaller than the photos, with hardly any room to even turn around in. Still you debated making this work as long as the suspected mold was taken care of until you opened the kitchen cupboards and screamed. A dark mass of large cockroaches scattered away from the light cementing your decision that you could not live here.

That night you texted your friend from home, Wanda, telling her about the horrible apartment and crying on the phone as she called to comfort you.

Wanda had been your best friend since you met in middle school. You always hoped she would join you in New York but you understood her reasons for wanting to be close to home.

“Wan, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” you cried.

The clock was ticking and you still hadn’t found a place to live. Every day you searched through all the listings on Zillow, Apartments.com and Craigslist, and every day your anxiety increased. It seemed like there was no way to be a full time student if you wanted to live in New York.

You called your parents to let them know what was going on and asked for advice. Through many tears you had come to a painful decision, you needed to get a full time job. They offered to help with rent while you finished up this semester which you appreciated, knowing they really couldn’t afford the extra expense either. Your idea was to go to school part time, taking whatever courses you could at night or on the weekends. You were still reaching for your goal, you would just be taking a slower path.

A new listing popped up for an apartment in Chelsea that was about three times your current rent. Walking into the building your stomach was bubbling with excitement. Everything was bright and clean and the moment you stepped into the apartment you were overcome with joy; this place felt like home.

A smile spread across your face as you looked around the studio. Walking in there was a small kitchen to the right, with a slim refrigerator, small stove and just enough prep space beside the sink. Checking the cabinets you were relieved to know it was free of any insect roommates.

The bathroom was behind it, looking newly renovated while still emulating a classic vintage style of black and white tiles. The main room felt large with the window on the back wall letting in a good amount of sunlight. The cream colored walls also brightened the space against the longest wall of exposed, worn brick. The floors were a beautiful dark walnut that made everything feel warm.

You always thought love at first sight was a myth but you were proven wrong, you fell in love with this apartment immediately. You signed a lease and gave a deposit and suddenly everything seemed like it would fall into place. There was still the daunting task of finding a full time job but you felt encouraged.

Two weeks later you moved into your new apartment, and while you should have been studying for a test you were more interested in unpacking and decorating, making everything perfect. With a few nails into the drywall you hung a curtain rod above your bed, stringing fairy lights behind delicate sheer drapery that defined a cozy sleep space.

Laying back against your pillow you imagined what your apartment would look like eventually when you had the money to fill it with furniture, but for now it was perfect.

You had been on a few interviews and nearly had a job or two before they realized you wouldn’t be able to start for another six weeks. It was disappointing but you didn’t give up and that’s when you found yourself interviewing for Stark Industries.

A confident smile held strong on your face when you told the interviewer Ms. Parker you would be able to start when your semester was over. This led you both into a discussion about college as she told you about her teenage nephew who was interested in the STEM field and had begun looking into college options. Ms. Parker liked you a lot, and the job was yours as soon as you were ready for it.

You became the administrative assistant to Maria Hill, Director of Research and Development who worked closely with the senior staff. You had seen the infamous Tony Stark only once, popping his head out of the conference room as Ms. Hill and CEO Pepper Potts continued to chat.

From your desk you admired the women you aspired to be as confident as some day. Social work was a tough field, one where you needed to balance composure and empathy with assertiveness.

While working at Stark Industries you managed to take two classes per semester, fitting them in on nights and weekends. You wished you would have been able to do more but even this was burning you out quickly. You had little time to socialize but knew this would be worth it in the end.

A few years passed and had life not derailed your plan you would have had your Master’s by now, instead you had one last class to finish before you needed to complete 1200 hours of an internship. You pushed that off until the end, knowing it would take you some time to find a place that would accept you. Even though you would be working for free most places wanted you there at times that conflicted with your paying job.

As the sun began its slow descent the noise of the city increased and you had to shut your window to block out the sounds. All but one.

The soft guitar had increased in volume playing a familiar tune you heard every night. It wasn’t a song you’d ever heard before but your neighbor had played it often enough it was in your head. Instead of writing about a social worker’s role as an advocate for protecting human rights your mind drifted along with the melody.

It was a nice song but not one you wanted to hear every night and yet, every night your neighbor played like they were performing a concert instead of being considerate to the fact that they have neighbors, some of whom are trying to write a damn paper!

You haven’t seen this neighbor yet but you heard him moving into the apartment about a month ago. The paper thin walls allowed you to hear everything, from the instruments he played to the various women. Oh yes, he played them too, using a different one each night. Unfortunately you were able to tell the difference between each one by the sounds of the shrieks and moans that were burned into your mind until you decided to wear headphones to sleep.

Any attempts to continue your paper are futile and so you pack up your laptop and books and head down to the cafe a few blocks away that stays open late. It’s unfortunate that on top of the expensive rent and the cost of school you had to leave the comfort of your apartment to spend more money while occupying space in the cafe just to do your homework; all because of that selfish “Music Man” that you couldn’t wait to give a piece of your mind to.

PART 2

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series

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katsukikitten · 4 years

Text

Wholesome Frat AU, Clearly aged up, college au, main characters are Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki, Sero, Jiro, Mina, and of course you my dear reader. Sexual themes, mentions of drugs and booze through out.

AHEM

Chapter 1

Denki lies upside down off his bed, staring at his phone when another invite to a party comes through. It's from a classmate he shares notes with and one of the few non toxic dudes on campus. A smile forms on his face, his fingers ready to fly across the screen to confirm his Friday night to be golden and one to remember.

Or maybe wish to remember as alcohol and maybe some weed numb his senses.

But then the location comes through, a frat house that's notorious for ignorance and low key rape culture. He turns it down claiming to study and sighs. Staring at his shared four walls from the top bunk.

"What's going on with you? No one wants you to keep their bed warm tonight?" Sero teases passing him up a beer before starting the next round of his game. Preferring to get buzzed and troll in Apex lobbies than find somewhere to be tonight.

Their phones buzz at the same time, Kirishima coming through on the group chat.

Big Red 🦈 : Any plans tonight boys?

Boomboi 💣 : Fuck off, busy.

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Apex

Zaptos ⚡: got invited to a party but location is sus af. You bro?

Big Red 🦈 : Yikes 😬 Keepin some ladies safe. Don't like the scene here…

Tape dispenser 🎞 : Same

Zaptos ⚡: Same

Boomboi 💣: FUCK OFF!

Denki and Sero both smirk at their phones before moving on with their Friday night with small talk of Instagram stories and received risque snapchats. As the beer fridge gets dwindles their thoughts seem to grow.

"Okay, listen. Here me out!" Denki says as if Sero would ever come off defensive. He finishes his eighth beer before continuing.

"What if we started our own frat? Like...like a fucking wholesome one."

"Dude not only does that sound impossible but what would we call ourselves?" Sero chuckles nursing his seventh beer. Denki pauses for a moment, trying to think of something, anything great.

"Alpha Kappa Wholesome." He smiles, "Yea that's it!"

Sero laughs from his bottom bunk earning an angry faced Denki to put half of his body over the side of his bed.

"I'm serious man! We could kick out whoever doesn't match our values. This college is supposed to be about making 'lasting connections' with fellow heroes! How are we supposed to do it when we are cooped up in our tiny dorm!" He gestures to their cramped room. A set of bunk beds and desks with their TV and shared dresser on the far wall. Sero looks around, this sure as hell wasn't like the dorms at UA that's for sure.

"Okay well two people isn't enough for a frat, man." Sero lets the dream die before it can bloom, running a hand through his raven hair. Denki scrunches up his face before he remembers where his crush stays. It's as if a light bulb lit up atop his upside down head. He jolts himself falling from the top bunk crashing into the empty beer bottle. They clink in protest but thankfully non break, just roll beneath the bottom bunk.

"But there is a sorority of only four and we have four friends in our group!"

Denki decides now is a good time to face time them. Kirishima answers first with a shout that he's gonna step outside, the roaring party and flashing lights die behind the shutting door while Bakugou is illuminated by the light of his screen glaring into the camera while a meek looking girl hides.

"This better be fucking good." Bakugou growls.

After an hour and a half of screaming Denki finally convinces Bakugou that sharing a house with the three of them as opposed to a rando was a much better idea. Reminding him that he had done it for three years in highschool surely he could last two more. He agrees but refuses to help argue with the dean meanwhile Kirishima is GLOWING with excitement over the idea formulating with his sober mind the best way to handle the notorious harsh Dean.

It takes petitions, several meetings and almost til the spring break to come down to this, the final meeting. Bakugou, who has attended every meeting and true to his word has said nothing. Denki nervous as a sinner in church, Sero who's sweating bullets and Kirishima all sit in the room with the board, treasury and the Dean in a final meeting of sorts.

Kirishima gulps and before he can explain the benefits the frat will have to offer the Dean stops him with a simple show of his hand. Taking a report from the secretary of treasury to look over, he just needed the monetary excuse to back up his favorite word.

"No." He clears his throat, "Unfortunately funds are too low to be able to support another fraternity." The Dean leaves it at that not even bothering to offer they join something preexisting.

Three of the four men accept defeat, mentally communicating that they did a good job trying. But the fourth man dreamed of his own room, of his own space to do as he pleased. And all without threat of being charged with murder. Although the fourth man would never admit that the reason he spoke up wasn't totally about the room, it was the look of defeat, anguish on his friends faces that had the room heating up a degree or two and smelling heavily of boiling sugar.

"Oi, toupee." The hot head let's his seat fall back to all fours, fixing the Dean a withering look, "You said something about not enough money huh?"

The Dean swallows thickly carefully thinking out his next sentence.

"Why, Yes its…." Bakugou interrupts before the Dean can even finish his thought.

"Pretty sure I'm the reason this campus is gonna be swarming with fucking no name extras next year." Katsuki's smile widens as his hand pops, "If you deny this request with the money I'm making you then I'll participate in the university sports festival with another college's across my fucking chest."

The Dean visibly sweats, Bakugou really was a hard student to land. His brash attitude and unapologetic behavior was popular among the younger generation bringing with it an influx of applicants and donations. It hadn't even been 24 hours since his announcement did it crash the admin and donation site. He panics, not even sure if there is any real estate available on or around campus in order for him to legally allow this fraternity to flourish. As if reading his mind the secretary of grounds offers him a file, an old run down home within a decent walking distance of the main campus. The Dean exhales the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Let's not act so rash. It has just come to my attention that we have some extra funding to be able to purchase a place for you all…" He looks over the file, he hopes this is enough to placate the hot head, "But it will need some old fashioned sweat equity, if we can secure it. The town has been kind enough to offer us first dibs to real estate within a certain radius of campus and if they like our offer you hardworking men will have your 'Alpha Kappa Wholesome home."

"They better like your offer." Is all Bakugou says before standing, "We get the keys in a month, got it?"

He doesn't give the Dean time to rebuttal, he just leaves while the other shocked three follow suit. It isn't until they are in the courtyard does their excitement hit them all at once.

"HOLY SHIT BAKUBRO ALWAYS COMING IN ON THE FUCKING KLUTCH!" Denki shouts, tackling Bakugou into a hug, Sero and then Kirishima wrap their arms around the yelling hot head who threatens to blow them up.

"I owe you a fucking drink!" Kirishima shouts lifting the group and twirling them

"OI OI OI SHITTY HAIR PUT ME DOWN!"

After that promised drink and a month of waiting the four musketeers stand before their new home. The house is trashed, easily a short sale of a foreclosure as the rent went higher but their wages stayed low. The amount of work to make this place semi decent was going to be astronomical at best.

Bakugou is thoroughly unimpressed, scoffing as Denki runs up the porch. The vision is clear in the electric blonde's head. The massive porch is clean, with a swing and some chairs, string lights hanging from the wooden ceiling while the half wrapped around, second story porch is draped in endless artificial star light cloaking the house in cozy warmth.

Dneki opens the front door and plume of dust rushes out around him, the other two follow suit. Taking the steps two at a time as they rush into the house. Harsh garnet stares after them before glancing at their luggage. He decides to leave it all stepping inside.

Their imaginations run rampant as they stand beneath the large archway to the main living room while Bakugou begins to second guess opening his mouth. That or getting more money from the Dean. Before displeasure can leave the hot head his friends turn to face him, their eyes shining and smiles stretched wide, wide enough it begins to hurt Bakugou's own cheeks. They encourage him to step into the home more, telling him what will go where. For a moment his smile is soft, tender as he looks at these three idiots seeing the bright side of everything before he steels back into his normal self.

"Oi! Quick acting all googly eyed. We've got a lot of work to do and a lot of fucking money to raise."

The four friends spend majority of their spring term picking rooms and doing basic cleaning. Bringing only one of the two full bathrooms up to par, trying their best to keep up with the old big house. Even after all of them picked their rooms there were still three bedrooms and a den with a door left. They brain stormed adding recruits but Bakugou shot the idea down despite Sero being elected the president of the frat.

Spring boils into summer, bringing with it the promise of cold hard cash. Bake sales and lunch deals thanks to Bakugou's cooking skills brought in a large amount of income, so did the odd jobs Kirishima, Denki, and Sero found themselves doing. Still they find themselves short.

"Shirtless carwash!" Denki announces earning a glare from Bakugou. Kirishima pipes up before the idea is blasted sky high.

"Think of the money man. The community around here is soccer mom's and freshly graduated college kids and I don't know about yall but when I go for a run or hit up the corner store after a good run I'm being stared at."

"That's a valid point Bakugou. I've seen how they flock to you for baked goods, they've been staring at your arms and eyes man." Sero adds voting yes to the idea making it three to one.

Just as Kirishima said, woman and even some men, flock to the area for a car wash. Some even coming back twice in one day! The cash flow is good but still a bit lacking. Denki wipes the sweat from his brow as he wonders how they will get enough to be able to get decent light fixtures and a working fridge in the dorm. Let alone anything aside from a blown up mattress and folding chairs in the living room. He scrolls through his social media on his break and comes across the miracle he has been asking for.

A lovely summer picture of four women in bikinis, three of them his housemates have lived with before. Mina Ashido, Jiro Kyoka, Ochako Uraraka, and then there is the new woman, you.

But what makes the picture that much sweeter isn't even the content itself, no it's that gorgeous caption just beneath it.

"BASIC BITCH CAR WASH! Help us raise money for an apartment so our sorority doesn't get disbanded!"

An idea formulates in the electric blondes head so quickly he thinks sparks fly from his ears. A dangerous smile forms on Denki Kaminari's lips.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #bnha college au #bnha wholesome frat au

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commander-diomika · 3 years

Text

Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Rating: Gen Word Count: ~2000 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Rating Will Change to Explicit in Later Parts, Opposites Attract, just two people trying to figure out how to keep the peace with each other and very occasionally succeeding

Summary: Part 2 is here, set several months after Part 1 in a Damascus safehouse. (here's Part One)

"There was another Sending from Curie’s people.” From a side-table awash with documents, Zolf fetched a piece of paper. “New workin’ theory on London, some kind of disease, rather than mind control."

Wilde frowned. “Oh, that’s much worse. Mind control magic at least implies some kind of central power system, a culprit to be fought. If it’s an illness… it might just be chaotic, undirected spread.” Wilde's eyes were shrewd. This was the Wilde that Zolf actually liked working with.

“The message doesn’t sound certain. Just a theory.” Zolf pointed out. He settled back. The couch was a threadbare number but it was comfortable enough, and this wasn’t the first evening they’d spent sitting here discussing plans and directions.

The two of them couldn’t have gotten the hell out of Cairo at a better time. Two weeks after Zolf and Wilde made their quiet exit from the Meritocrats, Aphophis disappeared, taking with him the last few loyal agents. In the ensuing chaos, Wilde pulled some strings and… appropriated significant funding for the next phase. Enough to rent a modest base of operation in Damascus, where they had been for the past few months.

Zolf wasn’t quite sure how Wilde made it all happen so smoothly. At the time he’d just thought Wilde got lucky. Though having worked together for just a few months, he was tempted to say Wilde got lucky a lot… Or perhaps he was just very good at making it seem that way.

“Ho, Wilde,” Zolf called from the kitchen, as he heard Wilde enter the townhouse.

His companion entered the adjoining sitting room, dressed almost-sensibly for the heat in a cream linen suit, a satchel slung over his shoulder.

“What you got there?” Zolf called. He had been chopping vegetables for the evening meal but seeing that Wilde looked flush with success, Zolf put the knife down and wiped off his hands as he went to join him.

His step faltered as he realised that Wilde, once again, was not alone. With him was the man Zolf couldn’t help but think of as “the interloper”.

Alfred Douglas stood just a few inches shorter than Wilde, similarly dark haired and dashing, as he followed Wilde into the sitting room and greeted Zolf with a winning smile. “Hello, Mr Smith.” Wilde had once said that he chose his friends for their good looks, and to look at Alfred, Zolf would begrudgingly agree.

Zolf had met this newcomer just a few days ago. Returning from a fruitless trip to Turkey, he was shocked to find another person at the safehouse; an old friend, Wilde said. When pressed for details, Wilde had first deflected, demurred, and then dug his heels in. It had gotten ugly.

Not wanting to repeat the fight, Zolf just nodded tightly. “Douglas.”

“Oh please, I’ve been telling you, you can call me Bosie.” Zolf, basically immune to affected charm, ignored him and repeated his question to Wilde. “What’s in the bag, Wilde?”

“Books!” Wilde replied, pointedly ignoring the pair’s less-than-warm interaction.

One by one he produced several tomes from the leather satchel with a flourish, revealing each as if waiting for applause before placing them on the low wooden table. A History of Dwarven Achievements; Svalbard, a Japanese travel guide, and one more sizeable volume. Zolf couldn’t immediately understand the title, but he could see that it was written in Dwarvish. That last one gave a small puff of dust as Wilde gently ran his fingers through the pages before adding it to the pile.

“Bosie was such a help, weren’t you dear, I would never have found that last little merchant alone. I swear we went down so many side alleys it was like a maze!” Wilde’s voice was honeyed and light again. It made Zolf feel itchy and irritable. In the months they’d been in Damascus, he’d almost gotten Wilde to just act like a normal bloody person when it was just the two of them, instead of some conversational artiste looking to make a spectacle of every interaction. Two days in the interloper’s company and he was back to the same smarmy, dunkable cad Zolf had met in London.

“The Svalbard one wasn’t exactly easy to get our hands on, either. It’s not like anyone is doing transfers from The London Library anymore.” Wilde reported as he speedily shed jacket, hat and shoes, then plopped down on the settee. Still looking overly pleased with himself, he patted the seat next to him, inviting Bosie to sit. He did so.

“How did you go with your leads?” Wilde asked, still slightly breathless from the performance he made of unveiling the books.

Zolf’s lips pursed, and he considered not answering. Even though Wilde was probably telling him everything in the long hours they spent sequestered in Wilde’s room, it still felt wrong to discuss business with Douglas here. Since he’d arrived on the scene he’d been nothing but disarming smiles and quiet interest but…

Maybe I’m just bein’ paranoid, Zolf said to himself. It was immediately followed with another thought, unbidden and unwelcome. More like bein’ jealous.

That couldn’t possibly be the case, so Zolf opened his mouth and started speaking. “I went askin’ after our initial contact with the Hephaestus lot. You know, the one that sent me on that bloody wild goose chase?” Zolf’s recent trip to Ankara had been based on that lead. He’d been looking for Garten, with no success.

“Turns out she’s not keen on explaining to me why her lead was a blumin’ fake, and the rest of ‘em have closed up ranks.” Finding something to do that didn’t involve looking at either of them, Zolf picked up Wilde’s hat off the table and hung it on the hook by the door. “Also, it looks like the whole Cult is gettin’ ready to move, if I’m honest. A lot less folks workin’ and a lot more packin’ up than I saw last I wer’ there.” He picked up Wilde’s shoes and put them by the door.

“Yes, actually, I noticed something similar at the Artemisian temples the other day,” Douglas said thoughtfully.

Zolf glared at him. Who did he think he was?

As far as Zolf was concerned, the man’s only saving grace was that his sudden reappearance in Wilde’s life made him happy. Pleasant or positive things had been in short supply, and Zolf wasn’t a monster. But Douglas had been tottering about on thin ice since the moment he arrived, and his comments were only salting the surface.

Wilde’s eyes tracked between the two of them, and with a melodramatic sigh he said, “Perhaps you ought to head off, my dear.” He threw Zolf a glance that said there, are you happy now?

“Yeh, I’ve got some things to discuss with Wilde. In private.” Zolf added, eyebrows brewing up a thunderstorm.

Bosie tilted his head, an expression of mock-hurt on his face. It was an expression Wilde made often and Zolf did his best not to explode. These two were as bad as each other and getting worse.

Wilde made an apologetic shooing motion with his hands, and Douglas did as he was bid. He gathered his hat with a reproachful look at Zolf, and gave Wilde a peck on the cheek before leaving. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Oscar.”

Wilde walked Douglas out and returned to the settee, sitting with an exasperated sigh.

It had been getting better between them, heroes with their backs against the wall that they were. It had been. For all that Wilde was insufferable when he got on his airs about “need-to-know information” and couldn’t cook and was constantly preening as though any of that even mattered… But for all the myriad of ways he got up Zolf’s nose, he was also talented. Adept at making and keeping contacts. Able to talk his way into places Zolf couldn’t even get a foot into. An incredible mind for language, information, and planning. He was useful to have around, and for that Zolf was trying his best to extend a bit of graciousness.

And for all Wilde was frustrating company, at least he was someone. Wilde had been dead right, back in Cairo. It was nice to not be alone.

A mulish expression settled on Wilde’s face. It was obvious he was getting ready to jump straight back into the argument about Douglas, but Zolf wasn’t in the mood to rehash the same angry words.

you need to trust me, Zolf

you ain’t supposed to hide things from me anymore

we’re supposed to be partners

it’s none of your business

I thought you were more careful than this

With all the tact of a glaive to the face, Zolf changed the subject.

“There was another Sending from Curie’s people.” From a side-table awash with documents, Zolf fetched a piece of paper. “New workin’ theory on London, some kind of disease, rather than mind control. But it is affectin’ paladins, so it’s not any kind of disease we’ve dealt with before.”

Wilde frowned. “Oh, that’s much worse. Mind control magic at least implies some kind of central power system, a culprit to be fought. If it’s an illness… it might just be chaotic, undirected spread.” As though a spell had been lifted, as soon as Douglas left the room, Wilde turned into a different person, sharp and incisive.

Zolf nodded in grim approval of Wilde’s assessment, moving to sit down next to him.

“She also reckons we start treatin’ it like something communicable. Isolatin’ when we’ve not been able to keep an eye on each other, so on.”

“Well, that’s not very practical for us, now is it. We don’t have the kind of operation Curie does, with the people and resources to run proper quarantine.” Wilde said, eyes shrewd. This was the Wilde that Zolf actually liked working with. “We split up all the time.”

“Still, a theory from one of the sharpest minds left on the planet. Worth giving credence to. Maybe we need to look at bringing a few more people on board.” Wilde paused, thoughtful. “How would you feel about working with James Barnes?”

Zolf cocked his head, unable to place the name for a moment. “Commander James Barnes?”

“The very same.”

Zolf’s jaw worked as he started several different sentences then abandoned them. “I mean, he’s in the Navy, ain’t he? Last I checked, that’s still under Meritocratic order.”

“Perhaps he won’t be with them for much longer.” Wilde said mysteriously. Zolf nearly called him on it. Fighting about the sudden inclusion of Douglas in their affairs, Zolf had pushed Wilde hard on his habit of half-truths and leading statements. He hadn’t gotten anywhere with it. He was starting to think Wilde might be just an incorrigible equivocator, and there was nothing to be done about it.

So Zolf simply grunted.

“So that’s a solid maybe on Barnes,” Wilde grinned. “Besides, we’ll be fine for the moment. I won’t go running off and recruiting anyone new, because now we’ve got Bosie.”

Zolf took a slow breath at this topic change. He gentled the first angry words that came to mind, and spoke. “Wilde… I know you trust him. I know you two have a long history. But in light of this-” Zolf tapped the transcribed Sending. “-I don’t know how I feel about you bringing him in on… everything.” It lay on the table next to the satchel.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Wilde said smoothly, grabbing the bag and reaching inside. “I managed to pick up one more thing.”

From the satchel he produced a much smaller item, a banged-up paperback with a bright cover.

“Ohhh it’s the second Hearts of Fire!” Zolf exclaimed. He knew a misdirect when he saw one but couldn’t contain himself. “Those are so hard to get!” He took the book-shaped olive branch from Wilde quickly, already opening to page one.

“I knew I shouldn’t have given it to you until you’d at least had a look at the Svalbard books,” Wilde teased.

Zolf considered Wilde over the top of the book for a long moment. Wilde wasn’t off the hook. Neither of them were. They would have to come back to this jagged mess of a conversation at some point, but for now, Zolf chose peace. Of a sort.

“Look, the quicker I’m done with it, the quicker you can have it. Don’t pretend like you haven’t read my Campbells. I’m not the one dog-earin’ the pages. I thought you were sposed to be a man of culture.”

“Oh, stop hounding me about it, Zolf,” Wilde said, picking up Dwarven Achievements and relaxing gratefully back into the couch. Zolf was already so engrossed he didn’t even groan.

#hank writes #rusty quill gaming #zoscar #zolfwilde #rqg #rqg fic #but seriously how WOULD you feel if your legacy was just ''oscar wilde's lover''#literal RIP alfred douglas #anyway hit that reblog button plz

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daydream-believin · 3 years

Text

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (St. Louis)

summary: (pt 1) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - part 4) Doux and Reader get out of Missouri finally but not before one last stop (part 5)

warnings: swearing

word count: 6205

a/n: im getting a smidge impatient on my planned mutual pining slow burn as you can see. mmm i want a piece of st louis butter cake. @blixeon gets credit for putting the douxie trying to keep y/n away from moppet!douxie idea in my head. its not a big plot point here but idk felt i should still mention it

Douxie stared up at the ceiling with dry, unblinking eyes. There were many interesting cracks in the ceiling, barely illuminated by the light streaming in from the bathroom door. He was wide awake, despite not being able to convince himself to move. He was never a morning person, but once he remembered where he was, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. Y/n was no longer clinging to him when he woke up, albeit, she was not even in the bed at all when he woke up. That had gave him a fright before he realized he could hear the shower running. Somehow, this was worse than if she’d still been there when he woke up. This meant she woke, untangled herself from him, and was probably going to pretend like it didn’t happen, since she couldn’t possibly know he stayed awake long enough to know about it. Which, while waking up in her arms would have been a little awkward, at least he would have gotten a conversation out of it. An acknowledgement. Something.

Speaking of the shower, somehow that was doing a number on him too. It was so strange. They’ve lived together for years now; they’ve shared a bathroom for years now. He’s heard her shower so many fucking times. No sweat. These feelings were making him silly. Perhaps it was this fucking room. The domesticity of it all, which was a weird thing to say when you literally lived with said person. Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining that he was waking up in His Home, listening to His Wife get ready for work in the en suite of Their Bedroom. She didn’t want to wake him, how sweet. She was always worried about him getting more sleep. He’d go help her with her hair, braid it for her. His hands would run through her soft hair as he styled it. She’d kiss him on the nose before she left to go make him a cup of coffee while he got ready. She knew just how he liked it. They’d brush their teeth together, every morning, just like they did last night.

Bleeding balroths, last night. What was he going to do about last night. His dumb heart wouldn’t just be able to leave well enough alone, apparently. Does he,,, say something? Perhaps he should wait to see if she says something. That would be,, the safer route. He knew one thing for sure though. He wasn’t going to act like he didn’t love every second of it. He’d made up his mind. His life has been way too long and lonely for him to keep this ‘it’s not like I like you’ act up. And for Merlin’s sake, he had died not even three days ago. He had almost been gone, and would have never known the love of his beloved. And family wasn’t just who you have, it was also who you’re with. And he was with Y/n. She was already his family, so why not be his family? Like he dreamed of? Yes, he was going to come clean. If she said something. Yes.

Suddenly, he was aware of a noise. Someone had just knocked on the front door of the room. Or less of a knocking and more of a rapping. Archie’s ear’s flicked, but he didn’t stir. Douxie held his breath. The rapping stopped, but now whoever it was trying to open the door. Thank Merlin he warded that thing up. It couldn’t open from the outside, he made sure of it. The door handle stopped moving. Doux still made no noise. Hopefully whoever or whatever that was had decided to move on to easier prey.

Y/n combed her fingers through her wet hair. It was the best she could do at the moment. She’d try and braid it back while it was still wet, so it wouldn’t get even worse. Y/n pulled on the same clothes she’d been wearing for a week. Well, actually she had been wearing a medieval dress for most of it, but still. She looked in the mirror. Not bad for someone on the run. But they did need to make a shopping trip. As much as Y/n did not want to waste an entire other day to a store (thanks Kmart), and didn’t want to spend more of their small savings they were living off of, they did need some things. Backpacks to keep their few belongings close, one more set of clothes each so they could have something to be wearing while they wash the other set, maybe some pajama pants would be nice, although nonessential, a couple of toothbrushes that weren’t the motel provided ones, plus a tube of toothpaste, soap, a hairbrush, phone chargers, some emergency food that wouldn’t spoil, some reusable water bottles, a fucking first aid kit even, lots of stuff. It’s not like they were able to pack for this trip. Hell, they should probably get Nari an outfit that would cover up her, eh, forest spirit-ness. Her running around in leaves isn’t exactly helping their conspicuousness. Despite Y/n not wanting to add to that list, she sure was getting cold in her short-sleeved top. She needed a jacket. She’d been borrowing Douxie’s a bit for the last few days, but if she just stole it then he would be cold. She needed one of her own, she supposed.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom. Archie and Nari were still snoozing, but Doux looked like he was awake. He sat up as soon as he realized Y/n had come out. He looked, troubled. And he had every right to be, she thought. He had just suffered the loss of his mentor and died himself. He had been blankly staring at the ceiling when she’d first came into the room. He probably had so much on his mind. Thankfully he had Archie and herself. They’d be there for him, she’d make sure of it. It’d be best to give him some more time to think, though. She didn’t want to push too hard. He’d tell her if he was struggling, she was sure of it. He’d been so open lately. And they’d had plenty of talks in the past about not expressing frustrations in their lives. He hadn’t been too open with her when they first started living together and it had made being roommates stressful at first. It wasn’t a problem anymore though. They’d worked through it, and it had even brought them closer.

She told him it was his turn for the bathroom now. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then quietly nodded as he got out of bed and headed for the shower. Strangely, this inn stay has been the most normal things had been all week. It was almost like they were home. She was back in her routine of waking, getting ready, telling Douxie it was his turn to get ready. He was so sweet, he always let her have the bathroom first. So chivalrous, although, she had a sneaking suspicion it was more of his excuse to sleep in a little longer.

It was nice, living with Douxie. It was the first time she’d been on her own. Or, well, not on her own per se, since Douxie was there, but at least away from her aunt. Her aunt had practically raised her, but that didn’t mean she was too grateful for it. She felt guilty about that last part, but not too guilty. Her aunt was pretty cold. It was clear that Y/n was just a charity case to her, a beggar who wouldn’t be looked at twice if not for blood relation. She hadn’t even bothered telling Y/n about their family’s magic until Y/n had stumbled face first into it herself. And even then, she only taught Y/n a minimal number of spells, just enough to control it, so she could successfully hide it. Didn’t need some troublesome untrained wizard ruining the family name and scaring the party guests. Y/n didn’t even know that wizards were pretty much immortal at a certain point until she noticed it herself. The people she had grown up with were all out there getting their pretty adult faces, and she was stuck with a baby face. Her aunt only told her once she questioned it. She was well past being nineteen now, but was going to be stuck like this forever apparently. What a great way to live.

Of course, she was absolutely thrilled when she found out her new roommate was in the same boat as her in that department. It was serendipity. The whole thing with Douxie was perfect, really. She had heard through her friend who worked at Hextech that someone had put up a roommate ad flyer on the company’s bulletin board and she called right away. She hadn’t been having any luck apartment hunting. She couldn’t afford rent on her own with her bookstore job, and Arcadia Oaks wasn’t exactly a college town teeming with people looking for roommates. A wizard roommate would be perfect, and the price was right. So imagine her surprise when said new roommate also turned out to be her boss. Y/n hadn’t even known he was looking for a roommate, let alone that he was a fellow wizard. His old roommate, Jack, had gotten married and moved out last month, he told her. Y/n was surprised at how very easy it was getting into this agreement too, Doux already knew her so he didn’t even interview her. And she didn’t have to worry about new person awkwardness. It really was serendipity. Of course, it hadn’t been all rosy, as mentioned before, but they were really groovin’ together now.

Y/n stretched out on the bed. She could hear the water running through the wall. It had been so awesome living right above her job. She got to sleep in, and she’d get ready, eat some breakfast, and be able to instantly step into the bookstore. She’d never be late ever again. Or she never was late again. That was a depressing thought. But hey, bright side, now they could have all the fun of starting up a new bookstore. Perhaps she could convince Douxie to add on a tea shop this time too. One that had cute little round tables with pretty gingham table cloths and flower vases, filled with flowers that they grew themselves in the pots on their balcony. They’d make sure the new bookstore had a nice window that was meant for a display but they’d leave as a place for Archie to sleep in and make snarky comments as he watched the people go by. Douxie could paint the letters on the signs and window, he was great at that. It’d be a task, but truly, they had to remake their bookstore. Even if not in Arcadia. A new bookstore they could fill up with love, that’d be an idea Y/n could hold on to.

Stars, she loved their bookstore. She loved the smell. She loved the peaceful homey vibe. She loved the man who owned it. Whoops, forget about that last part. She even loved the quirky characters it drew in. One time, she encountered this really crazy lady, and she wasn’t even sure if this lady was real or if she dreamt her, since she was the only witness. But Mordrax’s miracles, was this lady something. It started normally enough, Y/n picking up the store’s landline.

“GDT Arcane Bookstore! Please state your grievances.” She knew in the back of her mind that she was the only person who found her dumb jokes funny, but she still made them to brighten up her own day. Also to piss off Hisirdoux with her unprofessionalism. He made the same passive-aggressive ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face every time. It was fun.

“Yes, Hello. I would like to know if you carry any children’s books.”

“Yes ma’am, we sure do. A whole section.”

“Great. And are you child friendly?”

“Are we-, child friendly? I-, Yes I suppose we are ma’am.”

“Perfect. And you’re open until eight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you, young lady.”

The whole phone call was odd. Y/n wasn’t too jazzed about being called ‘young lady’ either. She had mocked the lady as soon as the phone call ended, but she shrugged it off, and had forgotten that the whole thing had even happened as she went about her day. Then, at about seven, this lady rolls up. She was dressed to the nines but like, in an old rich person way. Long fur coat, black dress underneath with pearls around her neck. On one arm, she had a fancy purse covered in the logo of a fashion brand Y/n wasn’t going to admit she recognized. In the other, she carried a large porcelain doll, the size of a five-year-old, which was dressed in a frilly pink dress that remined her of the dresses her aunt used to make her wear. When Y/n greeted her, she recognized the voice as the strange caller from earlier. Y/n got the feeling that some sort of shit was about to go down, and couldn’t wait. If only Archie was here.

Fur coat lady sat her doll down on the old loveseat in the sitting area and asked Y/n to keep an eye on the doll while she went to go pick out some books. Emily could be so mischievous sometimes, she told Y/n. She assured fur coat lady that she’d watch Emily like a hawk. The doll’s painted eyes stared into Y/n’s soul. Fur coat lady came back far longer than Y/n was comfortable with. She asked Y/n if Emily had been a good-mannered girl. Y/n just nodded, not sure if she should be encouraging this, on second thought. Fur coat lady then preceded to read the doll nine children’s books in a row, pausing in between only to ask the doll if she had liked it. Y/n was too baffled to even tell this lady to scram, we aren’t a library, you know. It crept closer to eight, and Y/n was actually dreading what was going to happen when she’d have to kick this lady out, but thank the stars, fur coat lady starts telling her doll about how it was close to its bedtime so they couldn’t read any more stories, aww darn, and they had to go now. She thanked Y/n as she walked out of the door. Y/n flipped that closed sign behind her and quickly retreated upstairs for the night. She’d go make a cup of tea to relax her nerves after that encounter. Y/n had plenty of other wild stories of people who’ve stopped by their bookstore. It was great for conversation at parties.

Y/n loved parties. With Douxie came all his friends, and she didn’t mind that one bit. They were always over whenever Doux had time off. It was so nice; it kept their place lively. Y/n cooked and baked a lot, it was one of those skills her aunt insist she have, and having so many mouths to enjoy her food felt good. And whether it was band practice or game night, she was happy to play hostess. Douxie’s friends were fun to talk to. She suddenly had the freedom to invite her own friends over too. Having so many people around all the time had helped her loneliness big time when she first moved in. Her aunt’s house may have been big, but it was empty. Her aunt threw a fancy party a month, but none of the people there were people worth talking to. It was so cold. Their apartment was warm.

Honestly, as insane as it was to think about, Y/n couldn’t see herself ever leaving Douxie to live on her own anymore. At first, this arrangement was supposed to be a temporary thing until she could find a better job and go off on her own. But somehow along the way, ‘the apartment we share’ became Their Apartment, and the bookstore that she happened to operate with him became Their Bookstore. It was nuts, and also the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Y/n. It was the home she’d never had. Douxie and Archie were her family. Way more so than her aunt ever was. It was beautiful, magical, marvelous. She no longer worked, she just lived. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time Doux had formally assigned her a shift. She was just kind of always there. Which she was glad to do. She loved it. And when it was time to stop working, she’d just head upstairs and get to spend even more time with her favourite person. That is, if he wasn’t on one of his bistro shifts. She felt so safe and cared for. She no longer felt alone.

If Douxie wanted to make that, how you say, a little more official, Y/n wouldn’t be opposed to that. She had a hunch that he had some sort of feelings for her, if his recent actions were anything to go by. Although, just like she didn’t want to push him about the angst feelings, she didn’t want to push him in these feelings either. He’d tell her when he was good and ready. Slow and steady wins the race after all. Besides, if she was wrong and he didn’t have feelings for her, she’d definitely be tossing this good thing they had going out the window directly into the dumpster. She had to admit though, waking up this morning cuddled into him was the loveliest way she’d ever woken up in her life. She could get used to that.

She wondered if Douxie would be a wedding person or an elopement person. Not that she expected him to marry her. But it would be nice. She rolled over and found her phone on the nightstand. There wasn’t any harm in looking at some wedding dresses, right? Just in case. Y/n listened to Nari yawn and shuffle over to the bed. She opened an arm for the forest child who snuggled in, curious at what Y/n was looking at. Y/n tilted the phone for her to see. Nari really liked the poufy dresses. She’d point excitedly to the one’s she thought were pretty while Y/n scrolled. While Y/n wasn’t a fan of big frilly stuff herself, she had to admit, those poufy dresses would make her feel like Cinderella, which was never something she’d have thought appealing, but somehow it was. There were some really gorgeous not poufy ones also, and even a cool black one. Some that Douxie might like too. Y/n leaned more towards those, but wasn’t gonna tell Nari that. The veggie lady sure was having as much fun as her right now, surprisingly. Hopefully she wouldn’t blab any of this to Hisirdoux though.

Speak of the devil, he came out of the bathroom and sat on the end of the bed. Y/n quickly closed the app she was scrolling through. She sat up, taking Nari with her. Archie yawned and stretched, after sensing movement in the room. He moved from the chair into Douxie’s lap. After giving Arch a good scratch behind the ears, Douxie turned to Y/n.

“So, what’s today’s itinerary?”

“I-, wait, why do I have to be the one who decides what we do?”

“Because you’re the one who likes to have a plan when it comes to these things.”

“Fair enough.” Y/n pulled up google maps. If she had known she would have to do this she would have done it while he got dressed instead of fantasizing about their wedding. “Okay, so as much as I hate to say this, but we gotta go back to the store today.”

Douxie groaned as he laid back. His still wet hair was gonna dry funky like this, but he didn’t care. “Fine. We’ll do that in Illinois. We gotta get out of this town before anything else.”

“I agree,” she paused, seeing something that caught her eye. It would be frivolous, but she couldn’t help herself from asking “Ooh! Can we stop in St. Louis?”

“St. Louis?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun, Douxie. We can go sit in those cafés that people go to in the black and white movies, we can go take a cheesy tourist picture of us by the arch thing, and I’m really craving some St. Louis butter cake now.”

Doux laughed. “Okay, but only for a few hours, Love.” The least he could do was let her have a little down time to relax and have fun after this hell week. Highly populated cities were good for throwing off their scent too.

“Thank you,” she went back to her map, snickering, “And we’ll stop in Effingham to shop.” She snorted.

“Effingham?” Douxie said it correctly, in his proper accent, which was not as amusing.

“Effing. Ham. Baby.” He rolled his eyes.

They booked it out of that motel and out of that town. Douxie all but tossed the room key into the creepy innkeeper’s hands as they rushed out. Back on the boat, safe at last. He ran a mental headcount once they boarded. Y/n always held Nari’s hand when they went places, so they wouldn’t have to worry about her wandering off, but it still made Douxie feel better to go over his tiny mental list and make sure they were both still safe and with him. Archie, he didn’t have to worry about as much. Even if the cat-dragon wandered he’d always come back. He could track Douxie by scent for a hundred miles too. Y/n had a habit of getting lost, though. He had to keep an eye on her. He didn’t need her and Nari off in fairyland where the Order could find and abduct them at any given time.

Douxie’s hair had still been damp when they set off, but the wind took care of that for him. Sure, wind-tousled bangs were in, but not bangs tousled by real wind. He was sure he was rocking it though. He could pass it off as something he did on purpose. People already thought his relatively tame style was outlandish, they’d just think the messy hair was part of the look. His only qualm was Y/n. He didn’t want to embarrass himself to her any further. His Camelot self already inflicted so much damage in that department this week. That moppet with a man bun had messed up spells, quoted sappy poetry to her, bragged about being Merlin’s apprentice, and even tried serenading her with his lute in attempts to impress her. It was mortifying. He had spent the first part of their Camelot adventure distracted by having to keep Y/n away from his younger self. It was not good for the whole ‘save time’ mission. Thankfully, he had Claire there with him, who had agreed to help him once she had buggered the information out of him. Thank Merlin for nosy teen girls. Claire was a godsend.

He had to admit, he was a smidge disappointed that she didn’t bring up the cuddling. Y/n hadn’t even made a joking reference to it in passing. He would have to bring it up then. But when, how? It wasn’t exactly something that would come up in natural conversation.

He watched her, hanging over the ship’s railing again. They passed a field with some cows and she made sure to point at them and say cows. He smiled at that; Y/n always managed to make him smile. He could recall how bad he had felt when Jack left and he thought he was going to have to fire her, his only employee, to keep up with rent. He had asked Zoe if he could put up a flyer in Hextech in a desperate attempt to find someone before that had to happen. And low and behold, among the three answers he got to the ad was miss L/n herself. It was an easy decision really, and it took away the uncertainty since he knew she was someone that he already liked. As a bonus, Y/n didn’t have a familiar of her own that might fight with Archie, because let’s be real, as much as Douxie loved Archie, the dragon-cat wasn’t afraid of stepping on toes. Although, it did feel kind of strange to give Y/n her paycheck and then for her to hand a little more than half of it back to him on rent day. But it just worked.

He remembered the first time he walked by the fridge to see that not only had Y/n added some fridge magnets to the kitchen, but she had taken the time to write a message to him. It, um, was sort of a rude note, meant to tease, an inside joke. Which he thought was funny, he just wished Zoe hadn’t seen it. It was hard to explain, and Zoe never let him hear the end of it. Archie got a kick out of it too. Y/n would switch the message almost daily, and it never failed to make him smile. He still had to deal with his friends seeing them and teasing him about it, but he’d never change her magnet jokes for anything. They would stay there until she replaced them with equally embarrassing messages meant just for him. It felt sweet to know someone was thinking about him enough to come up words meant to make him laugh on a daily basis.

They had just passed by a town called Eureka, which meant they were coming up on St. Louis. Good. Douxie couldn’t wait for lunch. He had the appetite of a winning fat bear these past few days. Probably the stress. That butter cake Y/n had mentioned was sounding so tasty. He could almost smell it. What Douxie hadn’t considered when he agreed to this was that the magic flying ship couldn’t go through metropolitan areas. Well, it could, but it’d be seen. So despite his growling stomach, he wound up taking the ship around the entire concrete jungle of Missouri, staying in the forested areas. He figured he could park the boat over in Illinois, just outside of St. Louis. This added a whole other hour to the trip than he was expecting, but now at least he knew to take large cities into consideration when choosing routes.

After hiding the boat in a heavily wooded area, the four took the bus into downtown. So when Y/n said she wanted to go to an old café from a movie, she had meant a very specific old café from a specific movie. She had told him it wasn’t a big deal and there were plenty of other cafes, but Douxie was gonna get her there by golly. And he did. The happiness written on her face was worth the extra bus miles. And wow, this café had some delicious food. They had salmon, which Archie enjoyed a little more than usual. Said something about paying himself back. As if he paid for anything, being a cat. That St. Louis butter cake did not disappoint. Archie was pretty fond of the cake too. It was too sweet for Nari, though. Y/n savored every bite. Doux watched her, while he ate his own, and it was so cute how smiley this was making her. He’d learn the recipe for this cake so he could make it for her once they got… home.

Douxie was still trying to shake off that depressing thought when Y/n finished up and was already trying to get the move on. Not without getting a picture first, of course. Not satisfied with just the scenery of the café itself, she begged Douxie to pose for her in various spots around it. He obliged, despite his scruffy appearance. She didn’t think he was that scruffy, and what was better than pictures of her favourite person in a cool place she’d always wanted to go. She also snapped one of Archie to post to her cat insta she secretly kept of him. Douxie knew about it, and contributed pictures to it himself, but neither of them were about to tell Archie he was internet famous as archie_the_emo_kitty. These pictures were going to hold good memories in them. All pictures do.

There was one more photo Y/n wanted to get. Silly cliché tourist picture with the gateway arch in the background. She wanted at least one of just her and Douxie, after the group photo. She’d have to somehow get one of Archie too, since she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to make a pun in the caption about Archie being in front of the arch. As she pulled Douxie close to get the picture, she got an idea. She asked him if they could get just one more. He was holding the phone since his arms were longer so he was able to get better angles with them both in it. He agreed, happy to do anything to keep that grin on her face longer. This time, when he leaned down to make their faces closer together, Y/n gave him a kiss on the cheek. The shutter snapped. Look, she wasn’t going to push, but she could nudge. Y/n pulled away and grabbed the phone to look at how it turned out, so cute, and Douxie just stayed there, leaning over, still as a statue, with wide eyes.

“Did you just- k-kiss me?” He didn’t so ecstatic. Maybe she was reading him wrong after all. Okay, time to deny.

“Yeah, it was just a cheek kiss, Doux. It was a cute pose for our picture, see,” She showed him the picture. A perfectly captured moment where they looked so happy. Where her lips would forever be on his still burning face. “Friends do it all the time.”

“Oh. Ah, okay.” That sounded disappointed, and his face wasn’t the picture of joy before, but now he just looked crestfallen. Okay so she wasn’t reading him wrong before. Good to know. She’d,, have to fix this now. She casually grabbed his hand and laced their fingers. That got him looking back up from the ground.

“C’mon, we’ve got about ten minutes to catch the next bus.”

~ ~ ~

Effingham was a quaint place. Y/n had only chosen it for it’s funny name, but it was surprisingly pretty okay. It was home to the world’s largest cross. Which would be cool, for it’s target audience, Y/n supposed. And they had a train depot. Fun. And exactly one singular popular restaurant. Which wasn’t that much more than Arcadia had, Y/n had to give it to them. They were in this tiny little mall, to see about finding some spare clothes. Y/n stopped dead in her tracks to gawk at a store that’s sign identified itself as Rural King. She tugged Douxie’s hand.

“Oh we gotta go in there.”

Douxie took one look at it and shook his head, “Are you really going to drag us into a hunting store just because it has a silly name?”

“No, I guess not,” Y/n took one last look at the place, “Can I at least get a pic of you posing in front of it?”

“Fine.” Douxie suppressed a grin as he complied with her silly request.

Once they got into a real store though, Douxie leaned over to Y/n to tell her something without the clerk hearing. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got an appearance modifier spell I’ve perfected over the years. We’re not actually here to buy anything, just get some inspiration.”

Y/n nodded, fascinated. Well, that’ll take care of the extra spending problems. Now came the fun part, finding a new look for Nari. Speaking of whom, she was over at a rack, trying on those fake fashion glasses without real lenses in them. She looked really cute in every pair she tried on, and they helped obscure her face. Good. She really took a liking to this square tortoiseshell pair. Y/n took a mental note. It was going to be getting cold soon, and plants tend to freeze in the cold, so they took the veggie lady over to go check out the winter coats. Nari picked out a puffer that looked pretty comfy, but she didn’t like that it was red. It reminded her of Bellroc. Douxie assured her that the one he’d make could be any color she liked. Not surprisingly, she wanted it to be green.

Y/n just decided on a simple outfit for herself, consisting of a black and white striped long-sleeved tee, a black short sleeve tee to layer over that, and a classic pair of jeans. It was easy, comfortable, and didn’t draw much attention. A band kid staple too. Nari wanted to be similar to Y/n and also decided on a striped tee and jeans to go under her coat. Now they just needed to find her something to contain that gorgeous head of grass. Y/n glanced over to see Douxie trying on a cap in the hat section. Perfect. They’d make her a hat. It’d be a big hat, but nothing too much.

Douxie actually did buy a couple of backpacks from the shop. Y/n was a bit confused but he told her how for some reason he couldn’t enchant something that was technically an illusion itself so he had to buy physical bags since he wanted to enchant them to be infinite vessels or something. Y/n nodded. This was interesting. She was pretty good at the magic she did know but it was mostly by instinct. No one had really taught her the technical side of it like this. She never really knew how stuff worked, just that it worked. They headed to the dollar store after finishing up with the clothing, which surprisingly, this little mall had in it for some reason. They quickly found all those necessity items they needed and got out of there fast. They were burning daylight after all.

Once back at the boat, greeted by Archie who was glad they came back within a decent time this go around, Douxie got to work. First, he enchanted those backpacks. Y/n watched his every move, fascinated, and taking mental notes. He stuffed the supplies into the bags, making sure each had emergency food and medicine just in case they’d ever get separated. The first aid kits were a great idea, considering he didn’t know much healing magic himself and Y/n could only do a temporary pain relief spell. Having stuff to bandage up wounds in their bags made Douxie feel slightly better.

Y/n filled Douxie in on the specifics of Nari chosen disguise, and he set to work on that. It came out pretty cute. Nari liked her new duds, taking her time to look over herself. Y/n handed the veggie lady her phone with the front facing camera on so Nari could use it as a mirror. She really liked that. Y/n snickered at Nari trying out different angles.

He moved onto Y/n. He didn’t magically fairy godmother her like he did the forest child, he just made her a spare set of clothes to go in that backpack. He made them according to her request, but paused at the tee shirt. “Do you want me to put a logo or something on this?”

Y/n twirled her hair around her finger. “Hmm. I’m thinking, Ash Dispersal Pattern. They’re my favourite band, ever heard of them?”

Douxie laughed as conjured up the tee. He picked one of his favourite designs from past merch. It could be considered vintage now, but it wasn’t that long ago to Doux. He fancied the idea of getting to see her in his merch a lot more now. She did have one of their tee shirts back in the bookstore, but she didn’t wear it often as it was in rotation with other band’s tees. He didn’t have competition anymore, it seems. He grinned as finished up.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. Now that I know you can just magic up clothes for yourself, I would like your hoodie.”

“I can make you a hoodie like thi-“

“No, no, I want the one you’re wearing, thank you. It’s warm and familiar and it smells like you.” She said half-joking, half-serious. “It would make me feel safer.”

Douxie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In fact some part of him thought he may have just daydreamed that. He wordlessly forked over the hoodie. She took it merrily and put it on, giving it a sniff for good measure. Now he really was daydreaming.

“Thank you, Dewdrop!” Oh, he had a pet name now. He’d hadn’t heard that one yet. Frisky people had called him all sorts of strange and embarrassing things over the centuries. But this one was a first. He guessed it was a play on his name. Dewdrop, ay? That was so soft and sweet. A shiny little dewdrop, the first thing you see in the morning. Ah. It seems that miss L/n was plotting to kill him. She was succeeding.

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #douxie casperan x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #hisirdoux imagine #douxie casperan imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #toa douxie #douxie casperan #my writing #nert

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randomingoftherandomness · 4 years

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Secrets I Have Held In My Heart

A/N: Modern!AU, Soulmate!AU, Soul Mark!AU, Angst, OT3.

This is quite honestly one of the longest things I’ve ever done in one sitting. I am exhausted. My prose and tenses are probably everywhere and I am so sorry for it. Enjoy x

(Edit 20/1/2021) It has recently come to my attention that lies and slander have been spread about my character amongst persons in this OT3 community. They are malicious lies made with the intent to cast a shadow over my credibility and my good standing in this community. I only ask that you come talk to me first before you believe the horrible things that have been levelled about me.

Please take care of yourselves x

Booker smiles placidly when he catches Joe's eye from across the room and let's the pretenses drop the moment he ducks out into hallway, finding a spot of quiet from all the music and chatter of celebration in the living room. He really should be happy but as it is with heartbreaks, happiness is something you can only fake until it feels real.

He opens the door when the doorbell rings and kisses the cheeks of the latecomers in greeting. They awkwardly avoid his eye with shifty smiles as they shuffle past him. Booker doesn't blame them. It's an awkward fucking situation all around.

Joe's warm and happy laughter carries through the air, and Booker just feels his heart twist in his chest. The sight of his head of curls bobbing along in the joy of whatever joke one of their friends was making while his arm was slung intimately low around Nicky's waist was unbearable. Booker has enough self-respect in him to recognise it as jealousy.

He has been in love with his best friend for almost as long as he has known him. It had been ridiculously easy for them; Joe had no soul marks and neither had Booker, so it was the most natural thing to move in together after they'd both hit 33 and when Booker decided to offer his fine art restorer skills up to go freelance, they make plans to spend the rest of their lives together. It made sense and they were happy. Booker had had no intentions of ever letting Joe know how he had truly felt and that was the mistake.

It isn't that he dislikes Nicky.

The man was beyond perfect and Booker could have never hoped to compare. From the briefest of familiarities, he knows that Nicky was a former theology student who left the seminary and is now deep in his work with a local NGO, well on his way to maybe working for the UN some day. He volunteers at a local shelter, helps at his church's soup kitchen, is handsome and funny, is a fucking Saint personified and looks great next to Joe when Booker looks like a twice drowned rat on his best day. It isn't that he hates the man. It's just that, well, Nicky isn't him.

Booker knew something had changed then. Joe had never looked at him the way he had when his and Nicky's eyes first met. And he knows Joe like he knows his own mind and there won't be any one as trusting or as kind. If he tells him he loves him, Joe would stay and he'd be Booker's, but that's not how love works and so he waits until the day they're both on the sofa watching a game and Joe turns to him to say, "Nicky's my soulmate."

Just like that. And because he could never hurt Joe, he smiles, nodding. "I figured he was. Congratulations man. That's amazing!"

There had been an indescribable look that crossed Joe's face when he said that but he hadn't lingered on it for too long. Joe's soul mark was on his left forearm set in stark, bold lines; a scimitar and a longsword threaded together with roses and thorns. Pretty cool and Booker made sure to tell him so.

That had been three months ago. Three months of waiting for the other shoe to drop, the inevitable moment when Joe says he's gonna move out and into Nicky's unit. For the second it hits his best friend that there really wasn't a place for someone like him in this equation. Two months of sitting around until he wraps up his current contract with the museum in the city and the curator takes him aside to ask him if he would be interested in working for a private collector in Turkey. Two years to work on a team of freelancers. Two years on the other side of the continent. Booker said yes with no hesitation.

"Hey, you good?"

Booker knocks his bottle of beer to Copley's. He is one of the newer persons to join their friend group but it feels like they've know each other for a very long time. His warm smile anchors Booker to the here and now and he is stupidly grateful for his presence. The man was steadfast and calm, and it made sense to Booker that he'd be the only one he told about his leaving. "Yeah. I'm ready to go whenever you are."

He'd snuck a duffle bag of his things out to Copley's house the day before and then two suitcases when Joe was over at Nicky's last night. Right before the party to celebrate Joe's birthday, he had brought his carry on out to Copley's car. His name was still on the lease and he has left instructions to help pay for his part of the rent until the end of the year if Joe would like to continue staying here. Copley will help ship the rest of his things after a month. All that's left to do is leave.

Joe had been looking forward to introducing Nicky to his family and friends, and this party was perfect for it. Booker feels bereft at the thought that this could be the last time he sees him in a long while and he cranes his neck to spy him in the center of the room, accepting a kiss from Nicky as the birthday cake is brought out from the kitchen. He holds that image of Joe, smiling from ear to ear and hopes he won't hate him too much for leaving without saying goodbye.

"Let's go."

His Turkish is passable at best but he gets by well enough. The rest of the restoration team were up and coming names mixed with pioneers in the field and despite the lingering heart ache, Booker finds himself pleasantly settled and happy with the work he gets to do. Everyone seems to be equally as excited as he is to be working on their employer's personal collection of paintings and sculptures, in addition to the rare books that Booker has never seen outside of museums and archives.

It's good work and it keeps him busy. It stops him from thinking about Joe too much.

Booker had found thirteen missed calls and twenty texts and ten voicemails when he lands. He hesitates only for a moment before deleting everything that wasn't from Copley or his work.

As if sensing he was being summoned by thought, his phone rings as he basks in the afternoon sunshine whilst reading a book on his off day, Copley's name flashes on his screen.

"You still alive, then?"

"Alive and kicking," Copley says over the line with a laugh. "I swear, Joe is going to eviscerate me one of these days."

Booker shakes his head, marking his page and setting his book aside. The sunlight feels good on his skin and he takes a deep lungful of air. "He won't. He's way too nice."

"You didn't see him glare when I packed the last of your things into the boxes. They're shipped, by the way. Should reach you in a week tops."

"Thanks. I owe you big time."

"Oh, you owe me more than big time. When I come over to visit, I want you pulling out all the stops for me. I want the five star experience, Mr Booker. No expense spared," Copley chuckles.

"Alright, alright," Booker laughs. "I'm sure I can rustle something up. Just let me know when, alright?"

Copley hums and they fall into a comfortable pause. "How are you? Really. Don't lie."

He tightens his grip on his phone, swallowing tightly. "I miss him every day but that's not new. I think I'll keep missing him for a while yet."

"That's normal. I'm not surprised. I think he misses you too, you know?"

"He has Nicky now. He doesn't need me. I'm... I'm just his best friend with a stupid crush that had made plans to spend the rest of my life with him. I don't fit in it any more and he deserves more than I could ever give him," He swallow tightly, licking his lips. "Copley, he'll be okay."

"But will you?"

Booker doesn't have an answer to that. When his things arrive a week and a half later, he accepts it and begins to unpack his books. He's grateful to have his familiar favourites and is eager to fill his shelves when he spots the edges of an envelope peeking out of a battered copy of Neruda. It was a letter and it was addressed to him, though the handwriting is unfamiliar to him.

Dear Sebastien, it starts and this clues him in that this person isn't someone who knows him well. No one outside of his employers and colleagues call him Sebastien.

I hope you don't mind. I'll be slipping this along with the books. I really do hope it finds you well. I don't have your number and judging by the way Joe seems to not receive a reply from you, you might have changed it. I would ask it from Copley but I do not know him well enough and you deserve someone you can speak to without any awkwardness. I write this letter because I want to know you better. It occurred to me that we have never exchanged more than a handful of words whenever we meet and it was always about Joe. I found myself curious about you even if it feels like I know you from all that Joe talks about you. He still talks about you. Even if it is in confusion as to why you left us. I don't write to judge you. I just want to be your friend. If you are amenable, please send your reply to me care of the address on the back of this paper. I hope that you do. I won't tell Joe if you don't want me to.

Sincerely, Nicky.

Booker flips the paper and sees that it's for the church he'd half-remembered being the one that Joe had mentioned off-handedly once. He rereads the words, thrown by the whole thing. He tucks it into his pocket, pushing it to the back of his mind as he focuses on unpacking his life. But the shape of it digs against his skin and he cannot help unfolding it every few minutes to read it all over again.

Each word was carefully pressed and written with intent. He finds his thumb brushing over the looping Joe, but it is the careful He still talks about you that decides things for him.

Scratching his chest absently, he tears out an empty page from his notebook as writes, If we're going to be friends, you'd better call me Booker.

The seasons change and his correspondence with Nicky grows from a weekly letter to every few days, to Booker posting a letter only to receive a reply for the one he sent two days ago when he arrives back in his flat. Booker takes to sending a box of baklava over an overnight service and Nicky sends him a handwritten recipe for his Nonna's tomato soup when Booker off-handedly mentions a sniffle.

Eventually it gets easier to talk about Joe and Booker tells Nicky on what he likes and what he doesn't, how to best care for him; he's allergic to a certain brand of detergent, he always forgets his scarf in the depths of winter so always stuff one in his coat pocket, he loves it when you caress his hair, he doesn't support any team in football but he loves watching a game and he always chooses the team that starts on the right side of the pitch, ask his mother for her recipe for lamb stew and make that for him when he's having a busy week.

Nicky never seems to be bothered by him telling him all these things and in turn, Booker learns that Nicky cannot function before his first cup of coffee, that he misses the quiet of his life in the seminary but he is glad he can do more as he is, that he has a few kids that he works with that he is hoping will get into gifted programmes that can help them excel in academia, that if he hadn't done the almost priest route, he would have been a doctor or a medic.

It was ridiculously effortless to be friends with Nicky and he finds himself actually looking forward to his letters and random bits and bobs in the mail. Sometimes Nicky sends Booker Joe’s sketches and he keeps them up on his bedside, keeping them in sight as he falls asleep at night. Other times there’s a picture or two, taken by Nicky, of Joe. Joe on the corner of the sofa, curled up and dozing, Joe eyes crinkling as he laughs at something. Joe with those ridiculous sunglasses they bought on a whim over a very wet Welsh afternoon.

As the first chill of the season sets in, Booker asks about Joe.

He's fine. Missing you. We're heading to his family's beach house. He said you both used to go together?

Booker finds that he can smile a little easier when the memories come or when it is brought up that Joe misses him. It still tastes a little bittersweet but he can be happy about how he had the chance to experience these things with Joe. Even if he hadn't been the one to keep having them.

Yes. He writes, But you both can do this together now. Make sure you pack extra blankets for yourself. I'm sure you know that he hogs them.

Nicky replies with a box of Marks and Spencer Welsh Cakes which Booker thanks with an assortment of Turkish Delights.

Their correspondence slows as the weather cools further. Copley, when he tells him about what’s happening over Skype, merely asks him if it i a good idea to be even putting himself in the same sphere as Joe and Nicky when he had moved across the continent just to get away from the heartbreak.

“I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” Booker says over the sizzling of the butter as he makes the cheese toasties that Joe used to love for breakfasts. He scratches at his chest, eyes watching the way the cheese oozes off its side.

“Mate, I don’t think you’re far removed enough to actually know how catastrophic this could be.”

“O ye, of little faith,” Booker huffs, flipping the toastie. “At some point I would like to be able to exist in the same city as him without melting into a puddle of heartbreak. If being friends with his soulmate helps get me there, I’m all for it.”

“You are a masochist, Mr Booker.”

Booker laughs even as he burns his finger on the pan.

He works harder than ever, learning and improving his own techniques under the tutelage of his colleagues and can appreciate the opportunity. There's already talks of him going to New York after the New Year's to accompany some of the artifacts that are being lent out for display. Booker is climbing the stairs up to his building, head down, free hand rubbing at his chest and reading through the latest methods of restoration on his phone when he bumps into a person rushing down.

“Oh, sorry--”

“Booker.”

Joe’s eyes are big and wide when their gazes meet. Booker blinks, breathes in deep before looking behind him to see Nicky watching them from his landing, exhaling shakily as he whispers, deep and with feeling, “What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

Nicky nurses his cup of tea from his lean against the window and deftly avoids the inquiring glare Booker keeps sending his way from the safety of the kitchen. Joe, on the other hand, is carefully prowling the space of his studio flat he has made home, obviously cataloguing the way his books sit on the shelf and the way he has kept the space marginally clean-ish, how there are pictures and sketches tacked to the wall behind the dining table, the clear signs of a life he has built here.

“Let me get this straight, you picked up Nicky’s mail from the church, saw my handwriting, and decided to come all the way to Turkey. Just to see me,” Booker says, gesturing at their backpacks leaning against his door. “Again, let me ask, why?”

“Why?” Joe laughs, throat clicking when the sound comes out rough and raw. “You ask me why I would fly out to Turkey in the middle of the holiday season just to see my best friend who left me without telling me he got a job in Turkey and was going to leave without even so much as a goodbye, and you are asking me why I would come all the way out here just to chase you down? Are you perhaps short of a marble!”

“And what was I supposed to do! Linger around you when I was dying every single time I looked at you and knew I wasn’t your soulmate? We were going to spend our lives together, Joe! I loved you!”

Booker slaps his hand over his mouth and turns away, focusing on his breathing. “You love me?” Joe says softly in the stillness of the flat.

“I did. I do and I’m sorry,” He sighs, feeling his chest shake with his trembling breath. He presses the heel of his hand to his sternum. “I do. And it’s okay, Joe. I know you don’t love me in that way. It’s okay. I just need some time away to figure out how to love you like you need me to.”

“And what do you know about what I need from you?”

Booker feels Joe come close and allows himself to be turned around to be face to face with him. “Do you know I love you too?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles wetly, rubbing his nose with the back a hand. “I’m your best friend.”

Nicky choose this moment to speak. “Booker, look at him and listen. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you in our letters. “

There’s an insistence in Nicky’s gaze that galvanises Booker to turn to Joe and meet his eyes head on. “I love you, Book. I always did. I still do. Even after the bullshit you’ve put me through.”

“But Nicky--” “Nicky’s my soulmate and I love him too.” Joe smiles, eyes gone liquor soft when Nicky returns his fond look. “But I’ve loved you for the longest time, Book. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The itch on his chest starts to burn.

“And you’re alright with this?” Booker breathlessly asks Nicky, taking a step back. “This- This whole Love, Actually thing is a situation you’re okay with?”

“Yes,” Nicky says, standing to cross the distance between them. Joe reaches for him then, tenderly touching him by the elbow while Nicky slides a hand to his cheeks and Booker feels immediately overwhelmed. He parts his mouth to speak when he doubles over dropping to his knees when the fire spreading over the skin on his chest sends him to his knees gasping for air.

Joe keeps a hold on him while Nicky looks him over with clear worry. “Fuck!” Booker groans, trying to arch away. Clawing at his shirt, he tears at it until the buttons plink on the floor as they fall. For a moment, he does not register the dark lines that spread over his sternum. Running shaking fingers over his raw skin, Booker barely holds back the awed gasp at the scimitar and longsword twined together with thorns and roses.

“Well,” Nicky laughs softly, cupping him by the side of the head, sweeping him into a gentle kiss. In that second that their lips touch, Booker feels his heartbeat skip a notch. “I guess this answers things, doesn’t it?”

-- Epilogue --

“That’s the last of the boxes.”

Joe kicks the door shut behind him, dropping the bags in his hands to the floor, ignoring the evil eye sent his way by Nicky who had warned them against scuffing up the hardwood floors. Booker throws himself onto the sofa with a sigh and Joe, grinning like a maniac, does a running start before launching himself onto Booker.

“Oof!” And then after a beat and a wiggle. “Joe, you’re suffocating me and I can feel your dick against my ass.”

They’ve finally moved into their first home together. It had taken a bit more effort after Turkey to keep their fledgling relationship going but all’s well, ends well and Booker is back with them after finishing up his contract with glowing recommendations and growing his contact list. Joe was ridiculously proud and he knows Nicky feels the same too.

They’ll need to work hard over the next two days to spruce the place up in time for their housewarming. Their friends and families will be here and Joe cannot wait to show off his loves. Wrapping his arms around Nicky and pulling him along back to the sofa where Booker is, he basks in the happy warmth of feeling whole with his heart in one piece.

#joe x booker x nicky #booker x joe x nicky #joe x nicky x booker #the old guard fic #gab writes stuff #please dear god give me wisdom to never do this again #this was too long and i am FUCKING EXHAUSTED #I am going to bed

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kazoo5480 · 3 years

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Almost finished! 30 chapters down, a few more to go. Thanks to those of you who wrote awesome notes, and who provide inspiration to us newbies every day with your lovely tales!

Chapter 1 Arrivals

Prologue – September 1943, New York City

25-year-old Killian Jones steps down the ramp off the Algernon straight from Belfast. He has $40 to his name, the clothes on his back. Having lost his brother in an accident, his mother to illness, and abandonment of his father when he was 7, Killian made a choice to leave his homeland and make his way to America. America was currently engaged in World War II, with no family left, he decides that a fresh start in a new land and a new line of work away from the IRA is just what he needs after the arrests and massacres taking place back in Ireland.

Gun running and violence is not a life he wants any longer, nor is a life in prison, or death. He is hopeful that despite his heritage, he will be able to settle into a new life, away from the massacre left behind on the emerald isle. Finding honest work is harder than he expected, even in a city this large.

Waiting in those long lines with all those other expats, hoping to find honest work and nothing. He goes every day for two weeks but quickly realizes that no one wants to hire an Irishman or give him a fair shake. But he believes you make your own destiny and believes in hard work and determination.

He hears the other men talking, that security and lounges, the US Army, and driving taxis are just about the only people hiring anyone right now if you aren’t American.

Killian has no interest in joining Americas crusade, so he finds a gig working the doors and security a little dingy nightclub at first, but slowly descends into the more glamorous nightclubs and lounges.

Word spreads quickly to his newest employer, Louis Lepke, who owns the Riobamba- one of Manhattan’s most posh nightclubs that Killian was once part of the IRA and has a hell of a left hook. Lepke, one of the most dangerous mob bosses in New York at that time sees potential in Killian, thinks that his past IRA ties could be beneficial to their enterprise, and he offers him a better paying job running pickups and drop offs of packages that Killian doesn’t open and doesn’t want to open.

While the money is nothing to turn your nose up at, Killian continues this path, socking away the cash and crafting an entirely new persona for himself while making his own contingency plans to disappear for a quieter life someplace near the sea, perhaps finding peace and burying his demons for good at last.

Killian will never forget the day he was able to move out of the vermin infested room he had been renting in a boarding house on the lower east side, and into a three-room apartment of his own for $80 a month near Washington Square Park. Not cheap by any means, but it’s a second-floor walkup, with a fireplace, and wide windows that overlook the street.

Lepke pays him three hundred a month right now, but he always earns tips from both ends of pickup and delivery, and that extra cash is always appreciated.

He will never forget the first suit he purchases, or his first pair of new shoes in god knows how many years. He knows with his new employment, he needs to look the part, so he only is careful in his wardrobe choices, dark colors that won’t show dirt easily, well-tailored shirts, wingtips in black and white, and two hats that he sees the other men wearing.

He manages to pry a floorboard in the back of his new closet loose, securing the hole with a thin layer of wood, ensuring nothing would fall through or be lost to the ageing building, and he uses this as home for his cash and very little valuables. He has no furniture to speak of, except a mattress on the floor with linens, but he knows soon enough he will have money to furnish his new home.

For now, he is only willing to spend money on rent, and groceries, he saves every dollar that he earns after his necessities are purchased.

What he does not expect is meeting Emma Swan, an enchanting blonde lounge singer at the Riobamba. Frank Sinatra even plays there on occasion, so the joint was always packed. But amongst all those entertainers, is Emma. With the voice of an angel, the body of a bloody goddess, and a fire in her green eyes.

He knows that from the moment he saw her dancing and singing across that smoke filled room, that he was going to have her no matter the cost. Tonight, her golden curls pinned back on one side with a glittering clip, wrapped in a floor length sequin dress cut scandalously low in the front, even for the nightclub scene at that point in time.

She is easily the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and he wonders if she works for Lepke as well, a personal relationship perhaps, and the thought of any man touching her at all has him see red when those thoughts flit through his mind. He always hopes divine intervention is on his side to catch a glimpse of her during her sets, whether picking up or dropping off to his boss.

Occasionally he just sits in the back nursing a rum while he watches her, gliding around the small stage, dressed like sex personified, singing in that angelic voice of hers, enchanting the entire room.

She sings songs of love and happiness, sometimes she covers popular music of other entertainers, but he sees the sadness and demons lingering behind those emerald eyes, the glittering dresses and gorgeous gold curls. He wants to know more, scale those walls he can spot a mile high surrounding her.

On more than one occasion he is thankful for the low lighting of the club and his dark suits to hide the evidence of his rock-hard arousal that she stirs up every damn time he lays eyes on her. Green eyes that sparkle in the low lighting, locking on his blue. She sees him and he sees her, never exchanging words, just eye locks and then he is off.

In a rare occasion that Killian indulges the other members of his crew in playing craps, he casually asks about Emma to one of the kinder men, Bill Starkey, a slightly older married man, who handles the books for the clubs that Lepke owns.

“What of that lounge singer Starkey, she is a sight for sore eyes if I may say so myself”, Killian mentions with a smile. The older man looks him over for a second, and replies “She is a quite a dame, isn’t she? Voice of a siren an everything, but she is not to be trifled with - She keeps to herself, is a bloody fantastic piece of entertainment, draws the crowds in, but she does not mess with our crew. Many of ours have learned that the hard way he says with a laugh, Tough as brass that one is, so don’t bother with her”, and the man went back to the game.

When Starkey bids goodnight, leaving the younger men to their games, another crew member that Killian has somewhat befriended named Victor Whale leans over, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “If its Emma you’ve set your sightings on, you are not as slick as you think ya git, my girl Ruby mentioned that she caught you watching her shows on occasion, but Emma doesn’t date anyone around here, if she does date, it isn’t anyone related to our line of work”.

Bidding goodnight to Killian and the few stragglers still playing, he stands and Killian notices Ruby Lucas in her coat waiting by the door with a smile on her face. Whale takes her hand and pulls them out the door. Killian feels a pang of jealousy at their obvious companionship but pushes the thought away.

Ruby Lucas, the costume coordinator for the club, is a gorgeous specimen of her own right with long chocolate locks, hazel eyes, and legs for days. She has worked in the club a long time, and if anyone knows Emma, its Ruby. Killian decides that perhaps he shall inquire to Ms. Lucas about Swan but tucks the thought away for another time.

He has gained enough information about her for one night, he will have to just be patient. If Ruby has noticed him watching Emma, he would bet the few dollars left in his lightened pocket tonight that she has told Swan about him, and that is something he is not quite sure he knows how to feel about.

He wonders what Ruby would tell Emma, since she was obviously very much with Whale, she must know more about their conducted business, but appears to know when to keep her mouth shut. Maybe, the tides will be in his favor since he tends to keep a low profile in his job. The bosses like him because he is discreet and is known not to be messed with.

Emma sees him alright, black suits, navy wool suits, tuxedoes at parties, custom made shirts, and she would bet her last dollar that those cufflinks he always wears are actual sterling silver.

He has slicked back inky hair, tousled in just the right places, a permanent five o’ clock shadow, and forget me not blue eyes that haunt her for days every single time she catches a glimpse of him staring right back at her.

She notices the way he carries himself, so confident, dangerous, and definitely a hustler. He must be connected somehow, and Emma does not want that complication in her simple life.

He looks at her sometimes like he would devour her like a man on death row, and she being his last meal. She cannot get mixed up with someone like him, she has survived this long without someone, and the last time she allowed someone into her heart it nearly broke her in two.

Her friend Ruby has casually mentioned him, his name is Killian Jones, he works with her boyfriend Victor, but she does not know exactly what his role is. Ruby giggles as she talks about how handsome Killian is, and notes that he always throws her a generous tip, never ogling her or being disrespectful like some of the other crew who think that any woman in the club is dumb enough to roll in the sack with them.

Ruby has been with her boyfriend for a few years from what she mentions, having been together since before Victor’s job with Lepke’s crew, whatever that may be. Ruby is also one of the few people that makes Emma smile genuinely and lifts her spirits. Emma considers the brunette one of her very few real friends.

One night after her set is done, Emma enters her dressing room, and slips out of her dress, carefully hanging it inside the garment bag, and lights a cigarette, swallowing a sip of her Manhattan. Her roommate Mary Margaret is getting better and better with her sewing skills, her emerald green gown tonight is delicate, covered in sequins and green feathers float around the hem of her dress, she admires the gown once more before zipping the bag.

Standing in her silk stockings and garters, she begins removing her jewelry and realizes suddenly that she is not alone. Sitting in a low chair in the back corner of the dressing room is Killian fucking Jones. She grabs for her silk robe, tying it quickly- trying to regain some of her modesty. Watching her with those blue eyes, fingers crossed under his chin while he leans forward, elbows on his knees.

"Don't stop on my account love, I simply wanted to introduce myself, and I thank the bloody gods that I was granted enough luck to watch your private show just now. He smirked at her, running is tongue over his bottom lip, and she wanted to punch that smirk off his smug face, even if her heart beat faster in her chest and not from anxiety.

“Emma breathe,” she internally chastises herself. Her brain reconnects, she stamps out her cigarette, and she manages to spit out “listen pal, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I am not that type of woman. Go buy one down the street if you need to get your rocks off but get the hell out.”

He stood up, adjusting his trousers by the belt, which she noticed were fitting awfully tight, the evidence of his arousal clear but now covered as he buttoned his coat up.

He spoke, his voice a lilting Irish accent, “I apologize lass, I simply wanted to introduce myself and give you these in person,” he held out a large bouquet of creamy white roses tipped in pale pink, tied with a black silk ribbon.

“You are a vision, both on and off the stage Swan, and I simply was hoping to make your acquaintance as we seem to catch each other’s eye from time to time. I thought perhaps my interest was reciprocated, but clearly it is not, and I shan't bother you again”.

Emma did not know what to say, still shocked, her red painted mouth in a grim line. She caught his cologne as he made his exit, carefully avoiding touching her in any way. He smelled of wood and spice, and definitely rum.

Right as he was crossing the threshold to exit, Emma made a rash decision, and grabbed his hand, locked eyes with him and said, “Don't ever do that again, thank you for the flowers, but I am not interested.”

“They're nothing compared to you Emma, but I do apologize again”, and with that parting line Killian quietly exited, making sure to close the door fully behind him.

Emma locked the handle, ensuring no one else would interrupt her. She cleaned most of her face off and pulled on her burgundy wool dress and matching coat, gathered her things, and her flowers hailing a cab home.

Tagging a few who might be interested! @wefoundloveunderthelight @itsfabianadocarmo @purplehawkcaptain @the-lady-of-misthaven @the-captains-ayebrows @thesschesthair @myfearless-love @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @hookedpirate @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @letmedieahooker @captainswanouat @captainswoon @cathloves @laschatzi @timeless-love-story @asluve @ao3feed-cs @ahookerandproud @ineffablecolors @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @kymbersmith-90 @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @tnlph @the-captains-ayebrows @captainswoon @captainswanouat @captain-swan-coffee @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @captainirishstubble @onceuponadaily @resident-of-storybrooke @greenlef777 Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

#once upon a time #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan

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