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pascalscenarios · 3 years

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CLUMSY (Frankie Morales x Reader)

CLUMSY

Inspired by the song “Clumsy” by Fergie

Scenario Series

Frankie Morales X Reader

Summary: You’re a waitress at a bar. Frankie is clumsy and completely flustered around you.

Words: 1600

Warning: Mentions of alcohol, accidental touching

Author's Note: No because clumsy Frankie sounds cute af - K

It was packed at Aces, the bar you waitressed at. Tonight was game night, meaning a big sporting event was airing live on TV. Everyone flooded to the bar to watch the game on the multiple flatscreens, drink a shit ton of beer and eat greasy, yet delicious food.

“Alright Mac, here’s your usual, a pint of beer and nachos” You take the beer off the tray first, then set the nachos down on to the small circular table.

“Thanks darlin” He smiles at you. He picks up the beer, taking a swig and turning his attention back to the game.

“Of course, let me know if you need anything else!” you say over the loud noise.

“Thanks!”

With that you hold your empty tray in your hand, weaving past tables and bodies and make your way over to the bar to pick up orders.

You set your tray on the bartop, picking up plates of foods and beers, placing them on your tray.

Your coworker Johnny rushes up to you “Could you cover the table in the back?” He says as he quickly piles up his tray with orders.“Sorry! I’m really falling behind with all these orders and they requested for you”

Johnny was a new hire, only been on the job for a couple weeks. This was his first night working with the bar packed like this. It could get overwhelming.

You look over to the back, four guys sitting at the table. It was The Miller brothers, Will and Benny, and their friends Santiago, and Frankie. The four guys were regulars at the bar, coming in every so often.

Frankie Morales was looking at you, but quickly averted his gaze away when you noticed him staring at you. A smile crept onto your face. Frankie was cute, and boy did you have a fat crush on him.

Frankie is always nervous around you. You’ve heard him talk to the guys or anyone else like it was nothing, but when it was you, he’d shut up real quick. He was selective with his words, sometimes even stuttering when he spoke.

Something always went wrong when he tried to talk to you. Countless of times he has tripped, slipped, stumbled and fumbled in your presence. He is an absolute clutz around you.

“Yeah, of course! Don’t worry, I got you!”

“Thank you! I owe one!” Johnny quickly takes his tray and rushes off into the room.

You quickly maneuver around the floor, dropping off beers and food to various tables before heading over to the table towards the back corner of the bar.

“Hey, boys!” you greeted him.

Benny shouts your name “...Our favorite Waitress!”

“How are you doing?” Will asks, leaning on his arms that were on the table.

“Good! It’s a busy night! I haven’t seen you guys around for a while” you hold the tray in your arms.

“We’ve been busy at work. Thought we should have a few beers, eat and watch the game” Santi says motioning to the TV.

“And besides, Frankie here wanted to see you” Benny tossing his arm around him. Frankies eyes widen.

You cock your eyebrow up. “Is that so?” The guys begin to snicker or try to hold in their laughs.

“What?- No, that’s not why we came here- I mean not that I don’t wanna see you- it’s good to see you-I” he begins to babble

You begin to giggle “It’s good to see you, Frankie”

Frankie wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He was turning red, embarrassed, and angry staring at Benny.

“I already know what you guys want, I’ll be back in a minute” you say before walking away.

Once you were a far distance away, the guys busted out laughing.

“God, Frankie what was that?!” Benny was hunched over from laughing.

Frankie rolled his eyes annoyed at his friends.

“The person you become when they’re around...it's unreal” Santi chimes in.

“You should ask them out already Frankie. You’ve been crushing on them for a while” Will encourages him.

“They probably think I’m fucking idiot” Frankie mumbles.

“You’re not an idiot. You’re just nervous, that's all. It’s normal to be nervous around someone you like. You’re too much in your head. Don’t try to control the situation, just let things happen. Let it play out” Will expresses his advice to Frankie.

“Alright, 20 bucks something is gonna go wrong tonight...I say pretty soon” Benny says.

“Frankie’s gonna be okay” Will glares at Benny and Santi. They weren’t even drunk yet, yet here they are being assholes.

“Something always happens though, but I think later on in the night” Santi gives them a knowing look, “You got yourself a bet” He leans across the table shaking hands with Benny. Will shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“I knew I shouldn’t have come out tonight” Frankie gets up from his chair. “I’m going home”

“Frankie, Come on man” Benny drags out.

“No, I’m out of here” Frankie whips around, accidentally bumps into the tray in your hands. One of the pints tip over on the tray spilling all over your body.

“Oh my god” You gasp, clutching the tray close to you, making sure the rest of the pints don’t spill on the ground. You quickly set the beer soaked tray on to their table. You look down at yourself. Your v neck shirt was drenched in beer, and dripping onto your jeans.

“I’m so sorry- here let me help you” Frankie picks up the napkins from the dispenser on the table.

Your eyes widen as he begins to dap your exposed chest with the napkin. You know he means well. You don’t even think he realised what he was doing. You were just caught off guard.

“Frankie!” Will shouts.

“What-OH! Shit” it clicks in his head where his hands were, and clearly they shouldn’t be here.

He quickly moves his hands away from your body, and stepping away from you “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean- I swear I wasn’t trying to- I” He was a stuttering mess.

“It’s fine” You chuckled awkwardly “Uh, I’m gonna go change and bring you new beers...I’ll have someone clean up the spill, excuse me” You pick up the tray and head back over to the bar.

“Fuck” Frankie sat back down covering his face in embarrassment. He felt terrible for not only spilling the drinks on you, but for touching you.

“Pay up, Garcia” Benny holds out his hand for twenty dollars. “Ouch!” Bennt helps out as his older brother slaps him upside the head.

…

The rest of the night Frankie remained silent, limiting himself to a few words, hardly making any eye contact when you came around by the table.

The bars closing time inched closer. People in the bar started to leave sporadically.

The night was coming down to an end. The guys paid for their food and left a good tip for you like they always do. The guys got up, waved goodbye to you, and started to make their way towards the exit.

Frankie didn’t want to leave without apologizing to you. I would have messed with his conscience, keeping him awake until the wee hours of the morning.

“I’ll catch up with you guys outside, I’ll be a minute.”

You were behind the bar, wiping up glasses that you just cleaned.

Frankie's heart was pounding. There was no need to be nervous. You were always so sweet to him. He took a deep breath in, signing quickly. “Hey” Frankie said as he approached the counter top.

“Hi” you smile softly at him as you set the cup down on the counter, picking up another to wipe.

“Are you staying a bit longer?”

“The guys are waiting for me outside..I just wanted to talk to you. I just wanted to apologize earlier-”

“Frankie” you sighed, “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine”

“No, It wasn’t. I knocked a whole pint of beer on you, then proceeded to touch your chest, without consent-”

“Frankie, it was an accident. You were just trying to help me” you giggle. “Besides, I think it's cute when I make you all flustered”

Frankie started to blush. He scratches the back of his neck “You noticed that huh?”

“There’s no need to be nervous around me. I’m no one special”

“Well I mean you kinda are. I’ve had a crush on you for a while” Frankie cringed at what he said. “Wow I sound like such a fucking creep- I’m sorry. I’m really not good at these things and I-”

You quickly set down the glass and rag down on the counter. You leaned your body forward, grabbing a hold of Frankies shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. It was simple and sweet.

You pull away, biting your lip “Frankie you need to relax...I’ve had a crush on you for a while too.

“Really? After I made myself look like a clown in front of you countless of times?”

“Yes really. How about we go out on a date?” You asked him.

“O-okay. Yeah I’d like that…”

“I’m off Friday night. Is that day okay?”

“Yeah”

“Alright, here’s my number” You grab a pen from your apron, and write it down on a napkin. You hand him the napkin.

“Night Frankie”

“Goodnight”

Frankie heads out of the bar and finds the guys waiting around.

“What took you so long?” Benny complained

“Looks like a got a date friday night” he smiles holding up the napkin with your number

“ATTA BOY FRANKIE!!”

MT: @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso @greeneyedblondie44 @hb8301 1 @alberta-sunrise @spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina @nikkixostan @mindidjarin

#triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal #pedro #frankie morales #frankie

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dameronology · 3 years

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tea & whiskey {jack daniels x reader} - 4

summary: it’s the morning after the night before. time for a very awkward conversation.

warnings: warnings, very very brief alluding to smut but rly only if u squint

song for this chapter is best friend by rex orange county! also the series masterlist can be found through the link to my main masterlist in my bio :) enjoy!

- jazz

You were’t sure what you needed more the next day: painkillers, to help your hangover or another round of drinks, to help you forget what you’d done night before.

Or should I say - who you had done the night before.

You didn’t sleep with your co-workers, much less your boss. God, it was almost as bad as if you’d slept with Merl - no, you couldn’t even let your brain go there. You’d already thrown up twice that morning (once into Jack’s toilet and then once into the subway tracks) and you didn’t need to make yourself do it again. Your stomach was churning and it felt as though the Blue Man Group were rehearsing their drum set in your frontal lobe. You’d tried to nurse it with a large block coffee and a half a packet of painkillers but alas, to no success.

Somehow, though, your physical pains were the least of your worries. The fact you’d snuck out of Jack’s apartment and left without a word was playing over and over again in your head - so much so, that you almost didn’t come into work. Almost. Not even this situation was enough to make you take a day off.

‘Is there a reason you’ve been stood outside the office for fifteen minutes, agent?’ You jumped at the sound of Champ’s voice. He glanced between the Starbucks coffee in his hand and the bruise around your left eye (fuck, you’d forgotten about that), quirking an eyebrow. ‘Rough night?’

‘No.’ You quickly answered. ‘Sir.’

‘So you what...walked into a door?’

Got drunk, tried to square up to a guy, got punched and then fucked my boss - thanks for asking.

‘Yeah.’ You nodded. ‘I’m not normally clumsy but I forget that doors in America...go the other way? You know, drive on the other side of the road, use a different weight system, doors that go-’

‘- you can stop now, Percival.’ Champ cut you off. ‘Make sure you look after yourself.’

‘Right.’ You nodded. ‘Thank you.’

With the agent staring you at expectantly, you had no choice but to go into the office. You forced a smile, using your weight to budge open the door and step inside.

The sound of your heels against the floor announced your entrance; the faint smell of Jack’s aftershave wasn’t normally that noticeable, but that morning, it wasn’t doing you any favours. You stood in the door way for a moment, letting it shut behind you as your eyes landed on the cowboy.

He didn’t even look at you. Why wasn’t he looking at you? Fuck, had you upset him-

‘Nice of you to make an appearance, Percy.’ He suddenly spoke, flashing you a smile as he tore his eyes away from his computer screen. ‘How’s the shiner? Your buddy sure did pack a punch, huh?’

‘Uh, yeah.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘It’s fine, a little sore.’

‘You should pop down the lab on your break. Ginger will sort it out in no time.’ He leant back in his chair.

‘Are we just not gonna talk about the fact we slept together last night?’

Jack suddenly jumped in surprise, eyes widening. Right, clearly not.

‘I was trying to find a way to bring up such a sensitive subject.’ He replied. ‘But I guess I don’t gotta worry.’

You sighed as you walked over to your desk, placing your bag down and taking a seat. Fuck, your head was killing. You rubbed your eyes and cleared your throat, forcing yourself to continue the difficult conversation you’d just unwittingly started. You got the vibe that people in the South probably didn’t talk about sex so crudely. Twenty-something years of hanging around Eggsy Unwin had de-sensitised you to the idea of it being a taboo subject.

‘I’m sorry I left this morning without saying anything.’ You sheepishly murmured. ‘When I do stuff like that, it’s usually with random guys I found in a bar.’

The biggest question that kept playing over and over in your head was why?

Why Jack? You’d rebuffed Tequila’s advances before he could even finish the damn sentence and yet you’d slipped into bed with Jack with ease. It was probably to do with the fact he’d been such a good kisser, and the rest did not disappoint. It had been good. Really good. Possibly the best you’d ever had, actually. He’d said at the beginning of the night that he was going to help you kick back and chill out and...yeah, he’d done a pretty good job.

‘It doesn’t affect me, sugar.’ Jack shrugged. ‘I don’t see why it has to change anything between us.’

Of course. Had you forgotten who you were talking to? This was Whiskey, the biggest flirt at the fucking agency. He’d probably had a different girl the night before you, and he was probably going to have somebody else tonight. He hadn’t said or done anything that could have lead you to believe it meant something more. Sure, you’d become friends and saw each other day and yeah, he drove you home sometimes because he didn’t want you to walk home in the dark and he had invited you out to help you de-stress when you needed it most.

Did you like Jack? Did you want it to be something more? Did the last few weeks all....add up to something? Then again, maybe he was just being nice. Maybe he was just looking out for you, because you were a young woman, alone in the city. Perhaps last night had just been...a fluke. A glitch in the system. A wobble in what was otherwise a completely professional relationship.

‘No, you’re right.’ You nodded, scratching the back of your neck. It really felt like you should have said something more, because it felt like something more. ‘It didn’t mean anything.’

He quirked a brow at you. ‘So we’re good?’

You forced a smile. ‘Better than ever, Whiskey.’

You’d had one night stands before. They were standard, really - but it was rare you found yourself thinking about them the next day. Something between you just worked. You couldn’t put your finger on it, in the same way you couldn’t spell out the sudden urge to kiss him last night, but some things just couldn’t be explained. Your attraction to him certainly couldn’t be - he was older, used the worst nicknames and spoke to you entirely in Southern metaphors. But, as aforementioned, he’d also looked after you.

Maybe that was what you needed. Maybe it was what you wanted-

- You stopped yourself there. No time to unpack all of that, especially when you were this hungover and spent most of your waking hours spitting fire about how independent you were. You’d had Tequila pinned to the wall less than twelve hours ago for trying to make move on you. It was probably something to save for therapy (which was on your to-do list).

The tension in the room felt a little more reflective of a fight between a couple than it did of two friends who had casually slept together the night before. Normally, the room was just calm, filled with the only sounds of you two occasionally cracking jokes or your fingers desperately tapping away at your respective computers. Now? It was tense. Suffocatingly so, as though it could have swallowed you whole.

‘I’m gonna get more coffee.’ You announced, abruptly. ‘And I guess I’ll pay Ginger a visit to sort out this annoying fucking bruise. You want anything from Starbucks?’

‘Didn’t you just go?’ He observed.

‘Yeah, but I want some fresh air.’

As you passed Jack’s desk on the way out, he reached out and grabbed your hand, quickly tangling your fingers in his. He peered up at you, brow furrowed - you were off. He knew you were off. He’d proven time and time again over the last month that he could read you like a fucking book. You were a clown for thinking that he wouldn’t notice the fact you’d completely retracted into yourself, or that you’d suddenly from from Jack to Whiskey.

‘You’re annoyed at me.’ He observed.

‘I’m not annoyed at you.’ You didn’t try to pull your hand back. ‘I’m annoyed at...myself, I guess.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I let last night happen.’ You explained. ‘I shouldn’t have made a move on you, I shouldn’t have broken every professional boundary between us for one night of meaningless-’

‘- what if it wasn’t meaningless?’

You froze, suddenly snatching your hand back. What were you meant to say to that? You couldn’t work out if you wanted it to mean something. There was so much to untangle but your main concern was sorting out your sore nose and banging head ache.

‘Jack...’ you murmured. ‘I can’t talk about this right now. My head is on fire and my nose is fucking purple.’

He stood up, reaching for his jacket. ‘C’mon then, I’ll take you down the lab.’

‘I can get there myself, really.’

‘D’you know where it is, sugar?’

‘I can work it out.’ You shot back. ‘I’m smart-’

Before you could finish your sentence, he had a hand on the small of your back and was guiding you out the room and down the hall. That was new; he hadn’t really shown you any signs of physical touch - excluding last night, obviously - but the progression felt...natural. Heck, Jack hadn’t even realised he was doing it, and you didn’t feel the urge to complain or push him off.

That was probably saying something.

‘There we go.’ Ginger murmured, slowly dabbing at the bruise with...something. ‘Good as new.’

You felt as good as new. After putting a weird paste on your nose and forcing some fancy, top-of-the-range painkillers down your throat, your hangover was gone and your nose was no longer stinging. You’d been out here thinking that Kingsman had been far ahead with their medical technology, but this place made it look Victorian. You were tempted to ask if they had an amnesia-inducing medication that could make you and Jack forget the events of last night, but then you realised something.

You didn’t want to forget.

‘Thank you, Ginger.’ You smiled. ‘I really appreciate it.’

‘What did you do to end up with a busted nose and black eye, anyways?’ Ginger raised her eyebrows.

‘Our girl tried to deck a man twice her size because she thought he was following a woman into the bathroom.’ Jack replied, gently rubbing your shoulder. That’s fine. That was totally fine. You were fine.

‘I had the right intentions.’ You muttered. ‘Anyways - Calahan isn’t gonna catch himself, so I gotta get back to work. Thank you again, G.’

That was code for Jack and I are about to have a very awkward conversation. To be frank, you would have begrudgingly left at the whole ‘it didn’t mean anything’ point, but he’d been the one to push it, to float out the idea that it could mean something. You’d thought it, but he’d been the one to say it. That was the huge difference between the two of you. You could compartmentalise your feelings when they proved to be an inconvenience. Jack Daniels, however, was...brash. When he felt something, he had to say it. It was a blessing and a curse.

You both walked back to your office in silence, once again with Jack’s hand resting on the small of your back. He knew you didn’t need looking after - hell, you’d proved that ten times over - but it almost like he was keeping an eye on you. He’d seen you square up to two different men in the last twenty four hours. It was for your safety, really.

The minute the door had shut behind you both, that tension immediately returned. This time, however, there was a little hint of excitement. Anticipation, maybe.

‘So...’ you trailed off, leaning against your desk. Awkwardly playing with your hands, you peered over at him. ‘Let’s recap: we slept together, I snuck out, we said it didn’t mean anything and then two seconds later, you retracted that statement.’

‘I didn’t retract it.’ Jack insisted. ‘I was just reading your signals - which are confusing as fuck, by the way, sweetheart - because you were the one who walked out.’

‘My signals?’ You scoffed. ‘You were the one who invited me out the in first place! And the one who drives me home every damn night so I don’t have to walk alone!’

‘You’re the one who’s being as skitterish as a calf at a goddamn smoke out-’

‘- as a what at a what?!’ You spluttered. ‘You’re the one calls me sweetheart all the time!’

‘Yeah, well, you’re the one who kissed me first-’

‘- just shut up a second!’ You held your finger out to him. He silenced immediately. 'I feel like we’re overcomplicating this.’

He quirked an eyebrow. ‘We are?’

‘Whi - Jack.’ You took a deep breath. ‘I am going to ask you this once, and once only. If you say no, I’ll move on and we can act like this never happened. If you say yes...we can discuss it, okay?’

‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘Go for it.’

‘Did last night mean anything to you?’ You asked the question slowly, in the same tone you might ask a child what small object they had in their mouth.

‘Not at first.’ Jack replied. ‘I didn’t go into it with the intention of it meaning something.’

You frowned. ‘Do go on.’

‘I was gonna come in this morning and pretend like it never happened. Then I saw you, with that stupid bruise and stupid smile and I realised that you’re brash and dumb and fucking gorgeous and ...shit, you’re spiteful as hell and I’m a little terrified of you but damn, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fucking obsessed with you.’

‘Well, shit.’ You murmured. It was the answer you’d wanted just...in a lot more words.

For a long time, your head strong nature and inability to tolerate ninety-nine percent of the human race was something people had used a reason not to like you. But Jack? Oh, no. Not him. He saw it as a challenge, maybe. He had an urge to cut through the thorny outside and trying to see what you held on the inside. He’d see little bits of it here and there - your smile when you spoke about Eggsy, or the way you’d gone out your way to try and protect that woman - but he was determined to find more. He wanted to find more. You were an enigma, a vortex of swear words and brash decisions, and hell, you were sucking him right in.

‘You gonna say anything more than shit?’ He urged.

You’d never been all that good with words. Didn’t actions speak louder? That’s what your mum had always said, and it had proven true in your line of work too. Punching the daylights out of someone was always a clearer threat than a concerning phone call. Pulling your weight on every mission was more proof of hard work than gloating to your uppers about your achievements.

And kissing your boss was a much clearer sign of telling him that you liked him too rather than just verbalising it.

Jack almost veered backwards when you lunged at him, just about catching you in his arms. Your lips crashed together - it was a little more desperate than last night, but then again, so was the whole situation. His arms caught you at the waist, holding you against his chest as he kissed you right back.

After a few moments, you pulled back for air. Neither of you said anything, instead choosing to just stare at each other with disbelief.

‘That was very unprofessional of me.’ You admitted. ‘But I do like you Jack and I’m worried it’s going to be a problem-’

‘- since when has mutual attraction ever been a problem?’ Jack practically snorted at the idea. ‘I like you. You like me. I don’t get what’s so complicated about that, sugar.’

‘Because it’s unprofessional! You’re my boss and I’m here to work.’ You suddenly took a step back, complex feelings finally colliding. ‘To prove myself and get a promotion!’

‘And you’re doing that just fine!’ He shot back. ‘Better than fine! You work your ass off ten times harder than any agent I’ve ever met. I don’t know how those uppity goddamn suit-makers haven’t realised what an asset you are.’

‘Are you saying that because you like me or because you mean it?’

‘Ouch.’ He murmured. ‘Even if I couldn’t stand you, I would still recognise the fact you’re one of the best agents I’ve ever seen.’

‘Wouldn’t that be an ideal world.’ You snorted.

‘How about this?’ Jack reached forward, taking your hands in his. ‘It’s clear that whatever happens now, we probably can’t go back to how things were. I can try, but I promise you it won’t happen.’

You nodded in agreement.

‘So, you can back track on everything we’ve just said and let it affect how we work together, or we can just lean into this whole stupid thing.’ He continued. ‘We’ll work together and play together. Two birds one stone, just until you go back to London.’

This was something of a rare opportunity: mutual attraction. Aside from the occasional one night stand in London, you barely had the chance to have fun. After years of hard work, maybe you deserved it. It was just...fooling around. You’d both admitted you liked one another but it was hardly a grand declaration at love. There were some feelings at stake, but not enough for you to be worried.

‘We need ground rules.’ You replied. ‘I like you and you like me but we have to put the brakes on it there. You have to promise not to fall in love with me. Obsession only, okay?’

Jack tilted his head to the side, as if to say fair enough. ‘Sure thing. Anything else?’

‘The minute this starts to interfere with my work, I’m cutting you out.’ Your tone was a little sterner. ‘Heck, the second it happens, this stops. It’s...an addition to my work, not a replacement.’

‘As your superior...’ he said the words teasingly. You hated that you loved it. ‘I will make that doesn’t happpen.’

‘Good.’ You gave him a curt nod. ‘Then it’s settled.’

You stuck your hand out for him to shake. Jack peered down at it, almost waiting for you to retract it and break into a grin. But that didn’t happen. You were completely serious. Could he put it down to British weirdness? Probably.

‘You drive me fucking insane.’ The cowboy grabbed your hand, yanking you towards him and capturing you in another kiss.

tags: @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @imananxiousdriver @phoenixhalliwell @66wookies @paintballkid711 @waatermelon-sugaar @hepburnwritess @haileyybird @xjaywritesx @jabbajambler @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @welcometothepedroverse @wickedmuse (message me if you wanna be added!)

#jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #agent whiskey x you #kingsman x reader #kingsman imagines

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achillestiel · 3 years

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the parent trap only works if you’re identical | part four

Tag List: @littlerachelbee @imthedoctorlove @deancas-handprint @castiel-loves-dean @wanderermatthews @thelahatiel @priscillahc @mridzyp @multi-fandom-dark-lord @thefantasyfiend @harmonyhelms @imlivingliferightnow @kara-merlin @still-clowning-in-this-house @never-forever-more @continuezmesfilserrants @2musiclover2 @castiels-bitch

Ok Winchester, you can do this. Just be cool, calm and collected. Dean said to himself as he drove towards Foxhall Village, the area that Cas and Jack lived in. Jack had fallen fast asleep about an hour before and every now and then Dean would glance over, marvelling at how much Jack looked like Sammy when he slept. They would both zonk out instantly, mouth slightly open without a care in the world. As much as Dean missed Claire, because that pint sized tearaway was his whole damn world, he couldn’t help but wish that he’d been able to get to know Jack more.

"Hey kid we're here." Dean said as they drove up the street Cas now lived on. "Nice place, what's your dad doing now here in DC?"

"Oh, he's the head of the council of economic advisers." Jack said. "Which sounds cool but it just means he talks about economic policy a lot. It’s cool when he goes to the White House, last time he stole a pen for me. Don’t tell anyone because I’m not sure if that illegal or not."

Dean just sat there for a moment because of course Cas now had a great job within the government. When they'd first met Dean had made endless jokes about how Cas would be president one day. Cas had always rolled his eyes but smiled whenever Dean jokingly called him Mr President.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked.

"Nothing kid, come on. Let's get you back to your dad. No doubt Claire has driven him insane by now so getting her back will be easy." Dean said, getting out the car when all he wanted to do was clamber back into the impala and hightail it back to Kansas. Yes, he was being a coward but the idea of seeing Cas after all this time was doing things to his brain.

"Doubt it, he's put up with Uncle Gabriel for all these years." Jack said.

"Yeah, I remember your uncle alright. Ruined our damn couch." Dean muttered darkly.

"That doesn't surprise me." Jack said as the pair walked up the driveway towards a large Tudor style house. Huh working in government definitely pays well Dean thought. Swallowing down his fear, Dean rang the doorbell. He prayed to whoever was up there that he didn't throw up on the tasteful doormat. The door opened and Dean braced himself to see Cas. Instead, he came face to face with-

"Uncle Gabriel!" Jack said happily. Dean suppressed a groan as he looked down at the short, cheerful-looking man. How was it possible that Gabriel looked almost exactly the same after twelve goddamn years?

"Well if it isn't my favourite nephew." Gabriel said happily as he pulled Jack in for a hug. "And you brought Winchester! Never brought he'd leave Kansas. Is your brother still an Adonis of a man?"

"Was he ever?" Dean asked as he held out his hand for Gabriel to shake. Sure the guy might have wreaked Dean's brand new couch fourteen years prior but he was trying to be polite.

"Oh he was and I let him know all the time. Shame he was so happy with Eileen." Gabriel said, looking wistfully as he shook Dean's hand.

"Yeah well...not that it isn't nice to see you again Gabriel but I kind of need to grab my daughter." Dean said. Maybe he could do this whole thing without having to even see Cas. Part of him was relieved but that idea and the other part of him was just a swirl of emotions.

"Of course, follow me to the kitchen." Gabriel said, stepping back inside the house and motioning for Dean to follow him. Dean obliged, looking around the pristine hallway for any sign of Cas. Jack was hot on their heels as they walked into the kitchen. Dean stopped and just glared at the sight in front of him.

Claire, wearing one of Dean's flannel shirts that was definitely three sizes too big for her, was cheerfully stirring the contents of a large saucepan. Loudly humming along to a song on the radio, which after a second Dean placed as Queen. When Dean coughed loudly she looked up and grinned.

"Dad! Come on in, we're making chilli for dinner." Claire said, looking far too happy for her own good. "Jack, grab some chips and gauc out the fridge."

"We?" Dean asked while Jack sauntered past him towards the huge sub zero refrigerator.

"Hello Dean." And damn if that didn't make Dean want to sprint out the house. He braced himself and looked over to where Cas was standing. All the breath in Dean’s body left him as his eyes fell onto Cas. He looked almost exactly the same apart from a few wrinkles around the startlingly blue eyes that Dean had always adored. His hair was still a complete mess and...son of a bitch, he was even wearing the blue sweater Dean had brought him for Christmas fifteen years prior. Seriously, was he doing this on purpose?

“Um...hey Cas...long time.” Dean managed to stammer out.

“Dork.” He heard Claire mutter under her breath.

“Hey.” Dean said, rounding on Claire. “You got any idea how much trouble you’re in of this little stunt? This ain’t gonna be like the time you blew up the shed, you’re gonna be grounded until the day you graduate high school. Maybe even college.” Dean said.

“You blew up a shed?” Cas, Gabriel and Jack all asked, staring at Claire mix of horror (Cas) and awe (Jack and Gabriel).

“Ok, I didn’t blow up the shed. I started a small fire in the shed by accident.” Claire retorted. Dean and Cas both groaned as Jack walked over to give Claire a high five.

“I really love this kid.” Gabriel announced.

“Oh Jesus.” Dean muttered at the same as Cas. They both glanced at one another for a moment before Dean turned his attention back to Claire. “You. Car. Now.”

I should have stayed hiding upstairs. Cas thought as he stared, yes he was staring, at Dean. How was it possible that Dean looked even better after twelve years? Dean in his early twenties had been a sight to behold but Dean in his late thirties was a thing of beauty. His boyish good looks had turned into handsome roguishness.

“Dad, I can’t leave yet. We’ve just laid the table.” Claire said to Dean.

"We thought you'd be hungry after driving all day so Claire and I made dinner." Cas said. In reality Gabriel had dragged him into the kitchen wherein he’d found Claire already making chilli. Cas wasn’t going to tell Dean that.

"That's a nice thought but-"

"Dad, I know all you've eaten today was gas store jerky.” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “Am I right?” she asked Jack who just nodded. “See? Now wash your hands, sit down and eat this damn chilli because I’m Aunt Eileen’s recipe and I know that’s your favourite.” Claire said, pointing a chilli covered wooden spoon at Dean. Cas simply could not fight the smile that spread across his face when he saw Dean’s terrified expression.

“Fine, just chill out. God you sound like Ellen when you do that.” Dean said, going over the sink to wash his hands before grabbing a seat and sitting down. Cas rolled his eyes, not even realising he was doing it until Dean looked over and glared. Dean was nearly forty and he was pouting like a small child.

“Well while you all enjoy this little family reunion I’m going to grab some wine...maybe a enough for a vineyard.” Gabriel said as he sauntered out the room.

“Does Gabriel live here?” Dean asked Jack.

“No, he was getting his condo renovated so he stayed here for a while. He’s back home now.”

“Longest eight weeks of my entire life.” Cas said quietly. “Jack, can you help Claire dish up?”

“Sure thing, let me run my bags upstairs and I’ll be right back.” Jack said.

“Oh I’ll help you!” Claire said as they both ran out the room.

“Nice to know subtly isn’t their strong point.” Dean said with a nervous laugh. Cas just let out a long sigh and sat down across from Dean.

“Yes, I’m starting to think they might be plotting something.” Cas said. “If Claire is anything like Jack in the determination department then we might be in trouble.”

“Oh believe me, Claire does not need any help when it comes to determination. She can wrap anyone round her finger. You know I still have a scar on my forehead from when she made me go rollerblading?”

“You went rollerblading?” Cas asked, utterly baffled by the idea of Dean Winchester going rollerblading.

“Not voluntarily.” Dean said. Cas laughed and was shocked to see Dean’s face light up. “Um...I’m sorry to crash your evening like this. I didn’t think that I’d be here tonight.”

“No, when I went to the train station to pick up Jack I didn’t expect to see my twelve year old daughter.” Cas said. “You don’t have to apologise, I’ve enjoyed having Claire here.”

“Yeah, I really liked spending time with Jack, he’s a good kid.” Dean said. “Listen Cas-”

“Got the wine!” Gabriel said, strolling back into the kitchen holding two bottles of red wine. “Where’s Thing One and Thing Two.”

“Here!” Jack and Claire said in unison. Cas had a feeling the two had just been waiting outside the door for at least a minute. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the smug look Jack gave Claire as they were dishing up dinner. Gabriel kept himself busy by pouring all the adults generous glasses of wine. Dean tried to protest because he still needed to drive back to Kansas but Gabriel laughed him off.

“So Deano, what have you been up to all these years?” Gabriel asked after nearly ten minutes of awkward silence while they ate.

“Oh...um...not much…” Dean said, staring down at his chilli.

“You have!” Claire intoned. She turned to Gabriel and Cas with a proud look on her face. “When Uncle Bobby decided to retire five years ago Dad brought his share of the garage. It’s expanded so much over the past few years that last year Dad brought the empty lot next door. He’s restoring a 1957 Chevy Bel Air at the moment and it’s awesome.” Claire said with so much pride in her voice that it made Cas smile fondly. Dean had always had a love for classic cars and he was happy to see that he had made his passion a profession.

“That’s amazing Dean, you should be proud.” Cas said.

“He is, he’s just awful at saying it.” Claire said. “We’ve got this old Firebird in the garage back home that Dad’s slowly been restoring. It’s really cool.”

“Are you planning on selling it once it’s restored?”

“Um...no...I mean, I was thinkin’ bout it but Claire loves the car so much that I’m planning on giving it to her as a graduation present.” Dean said, looking away from his plate of chilli to give Claire a quick, but loving, smile. “That’s if she gets good grades and promises to take care of it.” he added and Claire laughed.

“Me and Jack could take a twin road trip when we both graduate.” Claire said excitedly. “See the grand canyon or hike Yosemite!”

“And Yellowstone! We could see the geothermal pools.” Jack said with as much excitement as Claire.

“You know most teenagers would want to go to Tijuana.” Gabriel said.

“Does Tijuana have cool rock formations like Antelope Canyon? If not I don’t care about it.” Jack said and once again he and Claire high fived. It was at that moment Cas realised this wasn’t going to be easy. Claire and Jack knew about each other now. They’d bonded while at camp and separating them again would not only break their hearts but Cas’ as well.

“Yeah well, we’ll see.” Dean said in a small voice, catching Cas’ eye. This isn’t going to end well he said with his eyes. Cas nodded in agreement. While Claire and Jack began to plan a road trip that was several years away, Cas coughed to get Dean’s attention.

“I’m glad you’re doing something you love, with the garage I mean.”

“Oh...yeah, well you always knew it was a dream of mine to have my own garage.”

“I did and if I remember rightly I said that it would become a reality.” Cas said.

“Yeah well, it’s not as big as working in the white house but…”

“Dean, I think we both know that your job is far more interesting than mine. I talk about budgets all day while you-”

“Are stuck in the guts of a car and come home covered in axle grease? Seriously, Claire hoses me down some days.” Dean said letting out a small laugh as, once again, he glanced fondly at Claire.

“She’s amazing, I have to say. You’ve done an amazing job in raising her.” Cas said and he really meant it. True, most of the time he’d spent with a teenage Claire included Cas ‘spiralling’ but he’d enjoyed it.

“You say that now because she’s on her best behaviour...sort of. You do remember she set fire to the shed right? You’ve got the real winner with Jack. That kid, he’s just awesome. Really smart, kind of reminds me of Sam.”

“Can we both agree that our kids are amazing and leave it at that?” Cas asked. Dean chuckled and Cas was flooded with memories at the sound. His stomach ached with longing to make Dean laugh like that again and again. This really wasn’t going to end well at all.

#deancas parent trap #deancas fic #destiel fic #wanderingcas #deancas #destiel #part five will be up tomorrow cause it's already written #namely i had to cut this part down because it was already getting too long #like always if you want to be in the tag list just let me know!#hope you guys like these because i'm doing zero house stuff while writing this

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strayingdawn · 3 years

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Can I request a felix one where they go to a small shop to buy snacks at midnight and get in a tiny bit of trouble with the store owner by accident?

Of course! And sorry this took so long, I hope you like it! :) (I didn’t mean for it to get this long...oops. Sorry about that) >and feedback from anyone is always appreciated uwu

wc: 1,8k

——————————————————————————

“Are you crying?” Felix asked you with slight amusement in his eyes as he lifted one eyebrow.

“What?! Why would I be cr-” A startling hiccup interrupted your sentence. “... Okay, maybe I teared up a little.” No one would believe your failed attempt at denial if they could see you, and Felix had a front-row seat. Your red-rimmed eyes slightly stung as more salty streams of tears flowed down your face. The image was quite pitiful without context. However, in this scenario, Felix couldn’t help but let a few giggles escape him.

You and Felix had been trying to schedule a night to spend together for weeks, maybe even months at this point. Whenever you both thought you had finally set a date, one of your teachers would rip it from your fingertips and replace it with a new project or test to study for. Sure, you could have study dates, but you both know that your heightened crackhead energy when together and deliriousness induced by deadlines would not mix well. In short, you would both fail. And if you weren’t both drowning in assignments, either you would have a club meeting or Felix would have a swim meet.

However, finally, the odds were in your favor. After many tiring weeks of missing each other's warmth, smiles, and comfort, you both found a clear weekend.

So, tonight, you’re in your bedroom, surrounded by many blankets you didn’t even know you owned inside the elaborate fort you and Felix managed to somehow build. Of course, the first attempt failed after you “accidentally” passed a pillow to Felix while he wasn’t looking which resulted in a pillow fight, and Felix cheating by tickling you. Obviously, you still won, but that’s not important. You finally finished your fort after cleaning up the pillows and blankets that were scattered everywhere (including the pillow that somehow ended up on a curtain rod) and prepared Disney+ for your movie marathon while Felix got snacks downstairs.

Now, the reason why you’re crying right now. You and Felix were well aware that as long as you were involved, it wasn’t truly a Disney+ movie marathon if Hamilton was not played at least once throughout the night. And Felix is always willing to tolerate your addiction to the music and action that is Hamilton. However, with the number of times you’ve already watched it, which has surely exceeded fifty, he didn’t think you would still have the ability to cry by the final curtain call. Clearly, he was mistaken.

“Haven’t you seen this like fifty times?” he questioned with skepticism in his voice and some confusion painted on his face, especially since you usually remained neutral through any movie, despite the occasional teary eyes.

“Who cares! It’s heartbreaking seeing his monologue before death, Burr’s guilt, and then Eliza goes on to tell his story and the stories of others,” more sobs break through the air as you recall the final scenes. Sure, you could admit you were being a little dramatic, but how could anyone not find someone’s death and unfinished legacy depressing. “Wait...did we run out of snacks?”

But of course, food is some of the best medicine for sadness, and easily snaps you out of your misery.

“Huh, I guess so…”

“Well, what do you want to watch next? I can set it up while you get more.”

“About that...those were all the snacks you had…”

“What! What do you mean that’s all I had? It wasn’t even that much!” You knew you went through lots of snacks this past week while you studied since you usually pushed eating an actual meal to the side, prioritizing your work. But you didn’t know you basically cleared out the kitchen.

“Well, what are you yelling at me for? I’m not the one who runs on four hours of sleep a night and depends on candy and coffee to make up for it.”

“Okay, now's not the time point to point out my poor life choices.” You paused for a second, trying to think of a solution for your dilemma. “Well, what are we supposed to do now? It’s,” you glanced at your bedside clock, “12:00 am.”

“We could go to that little shop down the street” Felix suggested, but you weren’t sure you should go anywhere this late at night, especially in your current state, even though the idea of food was pretty persuading.

“I don’t know..should we be going out this late?” You were all for adventures, and you considered your neighborhood to be pretty safe, but your warm fort and stuffed animals tempted you to stay. Felix noticed your hesitation.

“Come on. It’s not like we’ve never gone out for a late-night snack before...plus, we can get creamsicles,” he said, nudging your shoulders, knowing you couldn’t deny your favorite ice cream. Curse Felix and the way he knows you like the back of his hand.

You sighed, also knowing he had you hooked. “Fine,” you huffed. “Let’s go.” You stood up and held out your hand, which he gladly grasped onto as he rose to his feet as well.

“Wow, you’ll really do anything for creamsicles,” Felix teased with a slight smirk that you could see in your peripheral vision.

“Oh shut up, you act like we’re going on some death-defying journey,” you roll your eyes at Felix’s attempt to provoke you. He simply shrugged his shoulders and chuckled a little.

As soon as you stepped out of your front door, you felt the gentle breeze envelope you. It wasn’t too cold nor was it too warm; it was slightly cool and simply refreshing. The soft wind pushed your hoodie and sweatpants into your body like a hug and blew your hair out of your face giving you a clear view of the night sky. The stars twinkled like glitter on a black piece of paper. You felt connected with everything as you inhaled a deep breath. You started to get lost in your surroundings until Felix’s slight tug on your arm brought you back to reality.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot how much I enjoy nights like these.” You had a relaxed smile on your face, as you admired the stars and the shapes they created while walking beside him.

Felix simply hummed, submitting the earlier, breathtaking image of you at such peace into his memory. “It’s fine. It does feel really nice out here. Aren’t you glad I convinced you to come?” He asked in a rather teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah. Ya did good.” You rolled your eyes while letting out a chuckle. Felix followed with some of his famous giggles.

The rest of the small, five-minute walk was filled with little jokes and clowning each other if the other one tripped or stumbled. Before you knew it you were already walking into the little shop, and the woman, who you assumed was the owner since you’ve seen them at the shop in passing many times when the shop was closed, greeted you both, fairly friendly despite this late hour.

You and Felix separated once he suggested you could split up, considering you both knew each other’s likes and dislikes fairly well. You wandered across the beige floor tiles towards the chip aisle, while the drinks caught Felix’s attention.

After choosing seven bags of different chips, for variety of course, you noticed a certain stand-alone display across from you. It held quite the selection of little cake snacks. It seemed new which piqued your interest, so you decided to search for something that might suit your taste. Apparently, you must have been so focused on the baked goods that you didn’t even hear Felix’s steps coming toward you. Felix also noticed your diverted attention.

“Boo!”

Now, those who knew you well also knew your tendencies to be dramatic, especially when startled. So Felix’s sudden exclamation had you springing forward, arms flailing...right into the display. The whole snack arrangement wasn’t even that big, shorter than you, but it still managed to make a great boom and fading rumble as the impact sent waves of vibrations through the metal and some cakes went flying in different directions.

At first, you were frozen in complete shock, staring at the disaster in front of you. Until you caught a glimpse of the freckled boy who was now beside you, also surprised by your reaction.

“Felix!” You whisper-shouted in an accusing tone, even though the clear, loud crash surely already caught the store owner’s attention.

“What do you mean ‘Felix’? You’re the one who knocked it over!”

“And you’re the one who scared me which made me knock it over!”

“Well I didn’t know you were almost worse than Hyunjin and his dramatics!”

You let out an exasperated and somewhat panicked sigh. “Well, what do we-”

“Oh my goodness!” Oh no. You wouldn’t have to think about your question for too long, as the owner would surely give a solution. Whether that was good or bad, you didn’t know yet.

“Wh- I-I am s-so sorry! I was startled, a-and accidentally knocked it over! I promise it was an accident-” you fumbled for the right words to say, hoping the store owner would have mercy on you.

“Um...it’s fine..accidents do happen. However, you’ll have to pay for this mess you’ve created one way or another.” She still wore a calm, sweet smile that eased your worries.

“O-of course! We will gladly clean this mess for you.”

Felix noticed your specific choice of pronouns. “We?” You only jabbed Felix’s side with your elbow and confirmed what you said under your breath. As Felix attempted to reason with you, the store owner grabbed a garbage bin for the few treats that didn’t take the fall as well as others.

Forty-five minutes and a whining Felix later, the display was basically back to its original state, minus a few snacks. Thankfully, the owner didn’t immediately kick you out after your work was done and continued to assure you that the two of you were still welcome anytime. So, you both walked out with bags full of drinks and food to last you a week full of movie marathons, unless you get flooded with work and revert to old habits, of course.

“I still can’t believe you dragged me into your mess,” Felix commented, still seeming a little salty about being forced, by you, to clean up the little cakes crushed by the display. However, you knew his frown was only a disguise, so he could give you a hard time. Felix would have helped even if you had begged him not to. He might laugh at your misery first but would still lend a hand nevertheless.

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. Besides, it was worth it,” you held up the bag you were holding full of ice cream. A smile slowly appeared on your face as you remembered Felix’s words from earlier. Felix seemed to catch on quickly, so you both spoke your thoughts aloud.

“Anything for creamsicles.”

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #lee felix #stray kids felix #stray kids fluff #skz #skz scenarios #skz felix #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines

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collectionofcherries · 4 years

Note

👀 i see that you take requests for Billy Loomis from Scream and i am here for that. How about some intense fluff (lol)? maybe what a day spent with his s/o would be like?? could devolve into steamy if you want 👀

Honestly everyone should be here for Billy Loomis. Everyone’s favourite greasy rat boy. ---

Pronouns: Unmentioned however this is written Female!Reader centric and contains feminine words like giggle and association with other women. Warnings: Kissing, fluff, light mention of murder, a literal sprinkle of angst, nothing out of the norm for a Slasher centric fic. Again I think I'm funny so that's a warning. Word Count: 2,226 ---

“You know one of these days I'm gonna get a lock for that window and force you to use the door.” You remark loudly as you hear it slide open. You don't even need to move from laying face down in your bed to know it's Billy, who else comes in through a window? “I thought it was romantic you know that whole Romeo and Juliet thing, there's a window somewhere in there, right?” You can't help but to laugh and turn your head to look at him. “Are you talking about 'what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun'?” You asked. “Sure.” He says as he plops down on the bed beside you. “Romantic right?” He teases arching a brow at you. “Funny enough I don't think Romeo was talking about breaking and entering.” You remark. “He broke into Juliet's place, didn't he?” “You'd know if you didn't sleep in English class.” “What do I need to be awake for? I speak it.” You roll your eyes to spite your smile. “How about we skip the romantic lessons that ended up with two people dead?” You pitch. He shrugs a little, his eyes looking around the room before settling on you. “Death can be romantic, what's so wrong with that?” He weighs in. “I thought you liked horror not romance.” You point out as you roll yourself over onto your back. “Unless you're trying to tell me you wanna watch the Titanic instead of IT?” You tease. He rolls his eyes at you but you can see the corners of his mouth are turned up. “We're watching IT?” He remarks. “Yes because if I have to watch The Exorcist one more time I'm going to start puking.” You say pointedly, you love him but you can't keep watching that movie. He lets out a scoff. “Maybe I was wrong about you liking romance seems like you're going for drama.” You shove his shoulder and he grabs the hand you use to do so. “I thought you'd love IT, it's got your two favourite things” You point out and he arches a brow at you skeptically as he laces his fingers with your own. “Murder and clowns.” You insist. “Clowns?” “You're best friends with Stu, you have to love clowns.” You giggle sticking your tongue out in glee at your own joke. “Yeah we'll stick with horror you're not great with comedy.” He says rolling his eyes. Before you have a chance to insist you're hilarious cause you are he leans down and kisses you, guess you'll have to make a point of how funny you are later. And judging by the heat of his kisses he's hoping for much later. Billy's kisses are deep, to spite his standoff-ish nature he practically shatters bones with how close he wants to be to you in times of intimacy but even with his desperate need to lose himself in it he relishes every moment and takes his time, never in a rush, hands never too grabby as they explore you, if you let him he'll take his time for hours. But your body seems to have a different idea as to what it should be filled with as your stomach breaks the sizzling silence with a loud growl that makes you both laugh a little. “Maybe horror is what we should stick with.” You pant out. Earning a breathy chuckle from him. "No arguments from me, long as it's rated R.” If he wasn't so pretty above you, you'd roll your eyes. But he is so pretty. Brown hair coming down in shiny if not a little greasy strands that frame his face, warm brown eyes turned up at the corners from his smile, Billy is just...warm, everything about him is warm, especially the way he practically melts into the hand you bring up to cradle his face. “Sounds like you're trying to get out of my movie pick.” You point out, jokingly pouting out your bottom lip. “I did bring Psycho.” He offers. He's not pretty enough to stop that eye roll. “We've watched Psycho like a dozen times now.” “Yeah, we know it so well we don't have to pay attention.” He points out running his tongue across his teeth and looking you over to get his point across. “If you wanna get it, you're gonna have to watch IT.” You decide. He sighs but his smile doesn't leave his face. “Alright, alright, we'll watch your

clown movie.” He sits up and you follow halfway, letting go of his hand to drag yourself up to lean back on your elbows. “I thought you were gonna bring pizza this week, I brought it last week.” You point out as you realize he's empty handed. Your stomach certainly seems to notice as it lets out another squelch. “You didn't hear?” “Hear what?” “Pizza place closed down, one of the workers in there got murdered.” He said his words dragging out slowly. “Did they say who? When'd this happen?” You ask as shock rocketed through you, you were there literally last week! “News said it was that Alex kid” And it seemed to spite his death Billy still had distain in his voice for him. “You know the one.” And you just nodded as you took that in, Alex had been working there as long as you'd been going. “He had it coming.” “What?” Was all that made it out of you. “He had it coming.” He said again this time looking right at you. “That kid was creep, the way he looked at you, the shit he said.” He pointed out, this wasn't the first time Billy had gotten angry about Alex or any other guy that flirted with you for that matter but Alex always made his blood boil and if you thought about it-...if you were being fair, he made you mad too, he just never knew when enough was enough. “You know I'm right, you can't tell me I'm not.” You took what felt like a painful breath as you tried to think of what to say back, words started to form but they never finished as your brain grappled with the idea of Alex's death. “Did they say what happened?” Finally came out. Maybe some other girl had just had enough, maybe it'd been quick...maybe then it wouldn't seem so bad. “Gutted like the pig he was.” So much for it not seeming so bad. "Happened when he was closing down, idiot left the back door open...I mean what'd he expect to happen?” He scoffed shaking his head. “Wasn't much of a fight, pretty quick...bloody though.” He said his eyes slipping from you to roam around, not particularly focused on anything. “Couldn't tell the difference from all that blood and the marinara sauce.” A quiet chuckle making it's way out of him at the end. “Found bits of him in the oven too.” “That was all on the news?” You breathed out, the words leaving your mouth without your permission. But the question hung in the air for what felt like too long, Billy's eyes not meeting yours for too long. “Uh-huh.” Finally made it's way out of him as he chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “You know how Gale Weathers reports, that bitch loves those details.” You nod but there's an uncomfortableness that sits in your chest that you're desperate to get away from. “Chinese it is then tonight huh?” You try to tease. “So, you're not too sad about the Pizza place shutting down?” He asks finally looking over at you. Out of all the things to be concerned about...but that was real concern in Billy's eyes. “It's probably for the best...I mean even if it opened up again I don't know if I could eat there again knowing about the...pizza sauce.” You said swallowing hard at the end trying your best not to picture it. “They could rename it Hannibal Lecter's Pizza Place.” He pitched smiling at you. Your gag is half real as you sit up fully. “Yeah, remember how I said I'm not gonna read that book? Well I'm really not gonna read it now.” You say making a disgusted face at him. “You'd like it, Clarice makes me think of you.” You maul over that, it's not a bad thing to be compared to Jodie Foster but not knowing the context you weren't sure how to feel. “I don't know exactly what that means but I'll take it as you saying I'm as hot as Jodie Foster and not that you're gonna eat me.” “He doesn't eat Jodie Foster.” He points out rolling his eyes at you. “Oh good.” “You know one of the only reasons he even talks to her is cause one of the other guys in the nut house flicks cum at her.” Maybe it was a good thing you hadn't eaten cause another gag made it's way out of you. “And he finds it really fuckin'

rude...he doesn't say it but I think he would've killed him if he had the chance.” He says nodding a little to himself. “I would've.” He adds shrugging and before you can even really take that in he's talking again. “Anyway, the story is kinda about getting under someone's skin, understanding the way they think...the way they are...no one really does that besides Clarice you know? She understands him, she's horrified but she understands him.” And his eyes found yours once again, they're intense to spite his seemingly relaxed posture. “She makes me think of you because you get me.” How could something so sweet come across so dark? A smile makes it's way across your lips to spite your confusion...you do get Billy, you know him, you love him. These weird horror movie references are just how he gets by in the world and comes to understand himself...how you’ve come to understand him and this is no different. You're convinced you're thinking way too much over what he's saying, he's just trying to talk to you in his own way. Yeah that's it. The breath that was painfully sitting in your chest escapes you and you reach over to hold his hand again and you realize the intense look in his eyes isn't something that should scare you, it's familiar, you've seen it before it's just the way he looks when he's yearning for physical intimacy and now it's melted into the same warm look you know so well. “I'm still not gonna read it...but next week it is your turn to pick a movie.” You point out. “Can't stop you from bringing it over.” He smiles and you can't help but to smile back at him, he raises his free hand to cradle your face and this time its your turn to melt into his palm as he leans in and kisses you. Whatever worry you had is drowned out by the taste of love on his lips. “You're not gonna leave me too right? You can't...you're the only one who understands.” It sounds needy as it's said between kisses. You know what he means, it's something that's been brought up before, all his anger and resentment for his mother leaving seemingly out of the blue makes him unsure of so much. It's not often he needs reminding that you're not going anywhere but every time he does it breaks your heart to hear all the desperation in his voice. “I'm not going anywhere.” You promise. This usually leads to sex that leaves you both almost physically unable to go anywhere and as clothes are starting to be fisted off, your stomach once again decides it too has desperation its desperation to eat! And once again you both pull back to laugh. “I might go into the living room to use the phone to call for Chinese.” You half tease. He chuckles as he rolls off of you. “Guess that's alright.” He teases back. You both lay there for a moment trying to catch your breath and find the energy to leave this bed but the odds stack even further against you as you feel his thumb smooth over the top of your hand that he's still holding. “You know I think I can hear Stu crying.” You joke making Billy look at you like you've got 5 heads. “I'm the only one who understands you? I mean he's gotta be crying.” You clear. He laughs shaking his head. “Yeah, comedy isn't for you.” He reminds. “You're wrong and saying so has cost you your egg roll.” You decide and he looks at you with a look that can only be describes as 'really?' “Stu finds me funny, maybe I'll order him an egg roll.” You point out as you get up. “Stu finding you funny doesn't mean anything, Stu thinks he's hysterical.” He scoffs “Well, he is hysterical.” You scoff back at him. “Now tell me I'm funny or I'm taking away your dumplings next.” “I'd kill you for that.” He says looking at you smiling a little. “So...be careful, your life could be in my hands.” “Yeah well your Chinese Food is in my hands.” You teasingly threaten back putting your hands on your hips. His smile broadens. “That was kinda funny.” --- ~Admin Coral🍒 Buy Me A Coffee?

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kurt-nightcrawler · 4 years

Text

Eye love you

Warren Worthington III x Reader

A/N: this isn’t what I wrote cause I was not feeling great yesterday, this is older. I hope you enjoy it anyway! :)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.2k

“I went to the eye doctor today,” You said into the phone.

“Oh yeah! How’d it go?” Warren asked from the other line.

You flopped onto your bed. “I’m getting new glasses…”

“Ooo… What do they look like?— Bobby! Get out of my room! I’m on the phone!” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry,” Warren apologized.

“It’s fine.” You assured him. “They’re brown.”

“That’s different, your old ones were black.”

You shifted to lay on your side, “I don’t really like them… Like, I like them, but not that much. They were the best option I had though…”

“That’s okay. You wear contacts most of the time anyway.”

“Yeah, but when I don’t…”

Warren frowned. He hated seeing or hearing, you upset. “You’re gonna look amazing. You always look good, no matter what… and besides, nothing can be worse than the glasses you had in fourth grade— they were blue and had flowers and were crooked—“

“Hey!” Warren laughed on the other line. “I should have never shown you my elementary school pictures!”

“But you were so cute as a kid,” He pouted. You scoffed.

“You’re gonna look like… like…”

“You can’t think of any female celebrities with glasses. Can you?”

Warren could feel your disappointment through the phone. It made him sad.

“I didn’t fall in love with you cause you had 20/20 vision. Glasses or no glasses, you’re still gonna be you...”

You didn’t respond.

“Do they bring out your eyes at least?” He asked with a slight coquettish tone.

“They bring out the brown in them…” Your eyes were hazel, but the favored heavily on the green side.

Warren sighed, “Your eyes are so pretty.”

“Yours are prettier.” His were green as well, but instead of having brown like yours, there was blue.

“Not true.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Hmm… I don’t think so.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling for the first time during the call, “I have to go. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Two weeks went by and your glasses finally came in. As time passed since you picked them out, you grew on the idea of them, but you weren’t in love.

However, Warren was right, you weren’t going to be wearing them that much.

A few days had passed since you got your new glasses. You hadn’t left your home all day. You stayed in your pajamas and got caught up on some housework.

You took a break, checking your phone out of boredom when you got a text.

Warren

hey baby

Warren

can I come over? I’m bored and the guys are busy :(

(Y/N)

so I’m a second option, huh? *side-eyes emoji*

Warren

no!! never!! I miss you anyways

(Y/N)

it’s been two days… we went to the zoo Tuesday

Warren

a whole 48 hours apart from you? ew *barfing emoji*

(Y/N)

you should just move in then

Warren

you should move in with me. no one pays rent in the mansion

(Y/N)

I’m not a mutant *clown emoji*

Warren

we can figure that out…

Warren

anyway...

Warren

I can bring madagascar 1 & 2 and chipotle

(Y/N)

ugh classics *moaning face emoji*

(Y/N)

can you get me a vanilla coke zero? *two pouting bug-eye emojis*

Warren

of course *red heart emoji*

Warren

I’ll be over in an hour or so

(Y/N)

okay :)

Warren had a key to your place, so he let himself in.

“Hey babe, I’m here! I also got the third movie from Kurt, and I think the penguins’ spin-off show is on Netflix.”

You had set up the coffee table so you could eat on the couch without making too much of a mess.

“Oh my god, it smells so good…” You subtly licked your lips.

“Hello?... No hug for the delivery man?” Warren joked.

“Big bird brain, come here.” You kissed his cheek and wrapped your arms around his torso. He set his belongings on the ground so he could reciprocate the hug.

You picked the bag of food and movies up. Warren gasped a little.

“What? What’s wrong?” You looked at him, extremely worried.

“Your glasses! You didn’t tell me they came in.”

“Oh, uh… I just kind of forgot about it…”

Warren kicked his shoes off and made his way over to the couch with you. “I wish you sent me a selfie. They look great!”

You deflected the compliment.

“You look like a sexy librarian—“ You gave Warren a sour look. “Okay, no—“

“I look like a girl who’s been in her pajamas all day and brushed her teeth at 2 pm today.” You said as you put the first movie in.

Warren shrugged while he dug into his bowl, “Hey, I’ve done worse.”

You chuckled, joining him on the couch. “of course you have. You’re a dude.”

“Hey!”

“They hated Jesus cause he told the truth.” You stated, nonchalantly as you started eating.

“Babe.”

You looked over at Warren, sipping on your soda, “Hmm?”

“They look really nice. You look great.”

“Thanks…”

“How do you like them?”

“Better than I did two weeks ago…” You sheepishly admitted.

“That’s a huge improvement!”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey— I’m gonna prove to you, that you look good in your new glasses. Even if it takes years.”

“Ren, stop it. I was being silly, they’re fine, honestly—“

“No. It upset you. I don’t want you to be insecure about something you can’t control. Something that you need. Babe, you had a panic attack the first time you tried putting in contacts.”

You frowned and stabbed your salad with your fork to try and distract yourself. “I was twelve.”

“Yeah, but when you told me and just how you didn’t want to be seen as some silly little nerd girl, it made me so sad.”

“I got bullied as a kid. And it wasn’t even the glasses really, I just wanted to fit in and I thought no glasses would help. I didn’t get contacts until high school…”

“I know… and that’s not fair, you know, trying to hide to fit in with people that really won’t matter in your future…”

You knew he wasn’t just talking about your glasses anymore. He was referencing the scars on his back. The ones he caused as a child, cutting his wings off almost six times a week until his parents caught him and told him to stop.

“I don’t want you to suffer. That’s all. You’re one of the best people in the world, and I hate seeing you upset.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Sorry—“

Warren kissed your cheek. “It’s okay… Ope.”

“What?”

He rubbed his finger on your face, “I got some avocado on your cheek. Sorry.”

“You’re good.”

Warren smiled. “I love you.”

He was very casual with it, but somehow managed to never lose any meaning every time he said ‘I love you.’

“I love you too.”

“Cna I try on your glasses later?”

“No way! You might break them with your big head, plus they’ll make your vision worse over time.”

“I! I have a big head so I can think about you more!”

You laughed, “War, that didn’t even make any sense…”

“It… wasn’t… supposed too…”

“Mmhmm, alright baby. I’m gonna tell Kurt and Scott you said that next time I see them.”

“Fine, but I have something they don’t.”

You blinked. “Scott’s dating Jean, and Kurt goes on tinder dates like twice a week…”

“You’re better than Jean.”

“Better not let Jean hear you say that,” You joked.

“She already knows.”

“That so?”

“Yep.”

“Well…” You kissed his cheek, catching him off guard, causing him to blush and get flustered. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah… Of course.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, babe.”

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

Rating: G

Summary: The battle isn't going quite as planned, but Marinette always has faith in her partner, no matter what miraculous the two of them wear. (Or: Mister Bug and Multimouse get trapped in a closet.)

Word Count: 1675

XXX

“I’m so sorry Mari—Multimouse,” Mister Bug corrected himself. “I should’ve used my Lucky Charm before Stormlight locked us in here.”

His voice guided her in the darkness, and she fumbled towards him. Fortunately, in the hotel’s custodial closet, there wasn’t far to go.

“It’s not your fault. I should’ve known this was a trap. Hawkmoth’s been too smart lately to give us an akuma out in the open.”

She bumped into a few unidentifiable objects (ow that hurt her shin) before reaching her partner. Her hand twined with his automatically. Before she could remember she wasn’t Ladybug, that this wouldn’t be one of their normal touches, he squeezed back.

“I’m the professional here. That means it’s my job to stop clowning around and get us out safely.” His voice was uncharacteristically serious.

She wished she could catch a flash of his green eyes, his smile, anything. But the darkness was too heavy for even his yo-yo to illuminate. Stormlight’s power fed on any kind of light that came on in the building, shooting it up towards the thunderstorm brewing in the sky.

“If only I had my night vision.” He pounded a fist on the locked door. “Or my Cataclysm. It’s too early to use my Lucky Charm now. Or at least, I think it is…”

He trailed off with a sigh. “I wish Ladybug were here.”

Marinette scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. She knew they needed to get out and defeat Stormlight, but they’d never win if her partner felt he wasn’t up to the task.

“I bet she wishes she was here, too,” she murmured. “She wouldn’t have lent you her miraculous if it weren’t important.”

He laughed hollowly. “I’m surprised she trusted me with it at all. The last time I was Mister Bug, all I did was screw things up.”

Her eyes widened, not that it helped her see any better. “No you didn’t. You and Lady Noire beat the akuma and sentimonster just fine.”

“Only because she figured out my Lucky Charm for me,” he said. “Why didn’t she give the ladybug miraculous to you? You pulled off that crazy plan when we fought Kwami Buster. I bet you’d make a great Ladybug.”

Her face heated under the praise. Of course, the whole reason he had her miraculous right now was because she couldn’t be Ladybug. Lila was too close to figuring out her secret identity, and she felt like she could hardly breathe at school anymore. If Marinette could lose her trail by being Multimouse for a few weeks, maybe things could go back to normal.

But either way, she needed Mister Bug. What if something terrible happened to her? She was the Guardian and Ladybug. She needed someone ready to take her place if the worst happened. Under Wayzz’s direction, she’d already begun to train Nino as an apprentice Guardian.

But being Ladybug was in many ways more difficult. She needed someone who could think on their feet, who wouldn’t flinch at running into danger. Someone who understood how important it was to keep their identity secret.

As much as she hated to ask it of him, there was no one else who could do her job better than Chat Noir.

“You’re going to make a great Ladybug too, Mister Bug.” She smiled reassuringly before remembering he couldn’t see it. “Don’t get discouraged. We’ve always been able to win together.”

“I don’t think one time counts as always,” he muttered. “And like I said, you came up with that plan. Do you have any more big ideas?”

She bit her lip. “Not really. I can’t see a thing in here either, and I can’t feel enough space under the door to crawl through if I use Multitude.”

“Great,” he grumbled. “How long do you think it’ll be before Stormlight shows up and puts us out of our misery?”

“Don’t talk like that Chat—uh, Mister Bug! We’ll find a way out… somehow.” She rested her forehead against the door. “I trust you.”

He’d always been there for her. During Stoneheart, Gamer 2.0, Miracle Queen—like the tide, he always rose when she fell.

“...Thanks, Multimouse. Sorry for bugging you with my problems.”

She laughed even though the pun wasn’t that funny. It was just a relief to hear a fraction of her partner’s humor return.

“I’ll go ahead and use my Lucky Charm.”

She heard his yo-yo whizz up into the air, though it was weird not to see any pink flashes as the Lucky Charm materialized.

He yelped as the object bounced off his head and landed in her arms.

“What even is this?” She felt the soft object—no, multiple objects, bound together, like a… “A bouquet of flowers?”

“Now I really wish Ladybug were here.” He sighed wistfully.

She was grateful he couldn’t see her cheeks pinken. “Keep your pining to yourself, Buggaboy. It’s time to use that big brain of yours and get us out of here.”

“You really think my brain’s big?”

“Focus.”

“Right, right.” He took the bouquet back from her. “Huh… these aren’t real flowers.” She heard the distinctive sound of him sniffing. “Yep, definitely fake. The petals smell like fabric, and there’s some kind of wire in the stems… that’s it!”

“What? What’s it?”

“Use your Multitude, and take this.” He squeezed her shoulder with one hand, the other pressing a wire into her palm. “You can get inside the lock and pick it!”

She grinned. “Sounds like you’ve unlocked your true powers already. Get ready to pick me up.”

“Of course, Mousinette.”

She unhooked the jump rope from her waist. There wasn’t much room in the closet, but hopefully she’d still be able to pull off her power.

“Stand back,” she warned. Her side grew cold as he retreated.

Her jump rope thwaped against shelves and other unseen objects, but she still managed to shout “Multitude!” and toss it into the air. It wrapped around her seconds later, and then she was splitting apart.

She’d only used Multitude once before, and it felt just as weird the second time. It was almost like her appendages had each disconnected, but were controlled by her same mind. At least the darkness meant she didn’t get disoriented by seeing out of eight sets of eyes.

Mister Bug’s hands finally bumped into her. Well, one of her anyway. She honed her focus on the Multimouse in his palm.

“Gotta be around here somewhere… ha!” He slid her into the lock. “You think you can get that picked before I transform back?”

“Piece of cake. Or should I say piece of cheese?”

“You know, I’m almost starting to miss the smell of stinky cheese…”

Her heart twinged. He was probably missing Plagg as much as she missed Tikki.

She pushed that thought aside and focused on bending the wire to fit the tumblers. Without her sight, it was more difficult than she’d anticipated.

“Need an extra paw—er, hand?” Mister Bug asked.

“Paw is right. Can you lift a couple of my duplicates up here?”

“I’ll carry you anywhere, little Mouse.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. Because she was distracted, each of her duplicates ended up mimicking the action. Why did it feel so much different when her partner flirted with Multimouse than with Ladybug? ...Would he just flirt with any girl he partnered with?

Stop that. Chat Noir—er, Mister Bug—can flirt with whoever he wants.

She split her attention between three pairs of arms, weaving the wire through the lock. His miraculous beeped just slightly off-beat from hers. Why was this taking so long? Surely she should just be able to twist the tumblrs and—

The lock finally clicked.

“Phew.” Mister Bug pushed open the door. No light came out the other side, but she could feel a faint breeze. Stormlight’s tempest must be picking up. “I guess I shouldn’t have worried. Even if we detransformed in there, we wouldn’t have been able to see each other.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to see you, you mean.” The three of her duplicates leapt out of the lock, joining back with the rest of them. It was easier to focus once all of her was in one piece.

“Right. After you, my La—er, Multimouse.”

She froze in the doorway. “What did you just say?”

“Um, after you?”

“No, after that.”

“...Multimouse?”

Maybe she’d misheard, or imagined his slip. That had to be it. There was no way he could know her identity, right? She’d feel so much better if she could see his face.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t lie to you. I almost called you my Lady, but don’t—don’t read too much into that,” he said quickly. “Your voices sound so similar, and I guess I just miss her too much. Not that I don’t appreciate you! You’re amazing, Mari—er, Multimouse. I couldn’t do this without you.”

Phew. She was safe for now, but maybe she should try disguising her voice more in the future. In the dark, it must be even easier to hear her as “Ladybug.”

“Er, ah—no worries, Mister Bug. I know how important she is to you.”

Come to think of it, his voice had sounded awfully familiar himself… no, just wishful thinking again.

“Heh. Thanks for understanding.”

Thunder cracked outside, making her jump.

“We better get moving,” she said. “There’s no telling how much power Stormlight has by now.”

“And we’ve still got to recharge before we face him.” He squeezed her hand.

Then he lifted it to his lips.

Her own lips parted at the gentle kiss he left on her knuckles. Her heart beat fast and hard enough to match the thunder outside.

“I… don’t suppose that was because I reminded you of Ladybug, was it?” She asked.

“No. That was a thank you. For believing in me.”

Though she couldn’t see his smile, she could hear it in his voice. A soft smile spread across her face in return.

“Always, Mister Bug.”

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #mistermouse #mister bug #multimouse #fic tag #tali writes #ml #plot twist: it's not a reveal fic

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

Text

Eccentricity [Chapter 6: You Know You Got Me In The Palm Of Your Hand]

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: Mean It by Lauv.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sex and violence, slavery in American history.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Tagging: @queen-turtle-boiii @bramblesforbreakfast @writerxinthedark @maggieroseevans @culturefiendtrashqueen @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @escabell @im-an-adult-ish @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @deacyblues @tensecondvacation @brianssixpence @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @some-major-ishues @haileymorelikestupid @loveandbeloved29

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 💜

What The Fuck, Washington Animals Are Weird

I woke up in a bedroom drenched in a rainbow of darkness, shades of grey vacillating from charcoal to the wings of a mourning dove; indolent dawn rain pattered against the window. There were no glaring veins of sunlight spilling in through gaps in the curtains, no promise of dry invigorating heat, no whistle of vicious parched wind. Toto, we’re not in Phoenix anymore.

“Ugh,” I complained to the empty room, unraveling from a tangle of blankets patterned with cacti and pure white clouds and rust-orange suns.

I clicked off my iPhone alarm��I’d beaten it by two minutes; my circadian rhythm was finally conceding that this whole Pacific Time thing was permanent—and read my nine new texts from Joe.

3:12 a.m.: Hey it’s an emergency what’s the plural of octopus

3:13 a.m.: Rami is insisting that it is octopuses

3:14 a.m.: But it’s octopi, right? Right?? I just announced in front of everyone that it’s octopi

3:15 a.m.: Scarlett is verbally abusing me

3:18 a.m.: Oh you are probably asleep

3:21 a.m.: Update, according to the internet Rami is right and now I have to assume a new identity and move to Antarctica

3:25 a.m.: We can discuss logistics of the Antarctica relocation tomorrow

3:26 a.m.: Hope you like penguins

3:30 a.m.: Okay goodnight!! Don’t let the mythical creatures bite!!

“That man,” I murmured to myself, smiling.

I typed out: It’s definitely octopuses, you clown. Then I deleted ‘clown’ and replaced it with its Italian equivalent: pagliaccio. Text sent.

Joe responded almost instantly. I had to ask Lucy what pagliaccio meant and now she’s verbally abusing me too. Send help. See you at lunch. xx

Wait, two Xs? What did Xs mean?? Kisses???

Did Joseph Francis Mazzello, sexy undead Italian man, just send me multiple text kisses?

“You’re gonna give me an aneurism, Chicago boy,” I muttered at my phone as I slid it into the pocket of my flannel pajama pants. And then I glanced out the bedroom window into a tussle of rain and thick, caliginous fog.

Just a few feet beyond the misted glass, its leathery talons hooked around a branch of Charlie’s decades-old red alder tree, was an owl. But not just any owl. A hulking, spotlessly white owl.

“Oh, hey, you,” I whispered, leaning closer, pressing my palms against the cold window. My hands left transparent imprints in the condensation. “Hey, buddy. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping? I sure wish I was. Did something wake you up? Did your idiot vampire boyfriend disturb you with a series of ridiculous texts?”

The owl just contemplated me with unnervingly vast, slick, engrossed eyes. And there was something else, too: those eyes were blood red.

“So you’re an albino owl, huh big guy? Good for you. You know, usually albino animals don’t last all that long in the wild. Because they’re really easy for predators and prey to spot. Or they get skin cancer. So congratulations on living to become the voluptuous, tremendously creepy creature that you are today. Job well done.”

The owl stared back at me unflinchingly, blinked, then resumed staring. Rainwater gathered in swelling beads like blood drops on its ivory-colored beak and talons.

“Well,” I noted, turning away and grabbing my shower towel off the back of the desk chair. “You don’t get that in Arizona.”

Thirty minutes later, I was bounding down the stairs two at a time to meet Charlie in the kitchen. He was browsing through his daily newspaper at the table, drinking coffee and nibbling messily on burnt triangles of toast. Crumbs littered his moustache.

“You didn’t tell me that living here came with the added benefit of freaky albino animal friends.”

Charlie crinkled his forehead at me. “Huh?”

“How was bowling with the dads last night?”

“Oh, awesome!” he exclaimed, folding up his newspaper and slapping it down on the table. “We bowled against the team from Mora and it came right down to the wire, but we caught them. Dr. Lee got a strike on his very last turn. He always seems to do that...he’ll be bowling hit or miss all night and then when it really matters he manages to pull a strike out of nowhere. He’s a beast.”

“He’s a pretty remarkable guy,” I agreed, rummaging through the cabinets for Pop-Tarts.

“He mentioned that you and his son were really hitting it off,” Charlie said, grinning. “Not the ragey blond one. The spindly annoying one. What’s his name again? Josh? Jimmy?”

“Joe.” I conjured up my best poker face of lofty indifference. It crumbled like a sandcastle beneath reckless, rushing footsteps.

“Ohhhh, I saw that!” Charlie said, pointing, delighted. “Check out that smile. My gorgeous, brilliant progeny has a crush. I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t be single for long up here. Alright, I’m ready. Bring on the grandchildren.”

“Shut up,” I pleaded good-naturedly.

“Relax, I have great news. According to Gwil, that Joe kid is pretty wild about you too.”

“Oh, is that what you old guys do between bowling turns? Betray your children’s deepest confidences? Matchmake them over nachos and chili cheese dogs?” Still, my curiosity was piqued. “What else did Dr. Lee say about Joe?”

“I think the exact word he used was...” Charlie reminisced, sipping his coffee, curls of steam pouring over the rim of the mug. “Smitten.”

Supernatural Pictionary

I turned the notebook to Joe so he could see; everyone else momentarily covered their eyes or looked away. Then Lucy started the timer on her iPhone. Thirty seconds.

“Go!” Lucy announced.

“I think it’s a boat,” Rami said, hesitantly, haltingly, squinting at Joe with great concentration.

“Do you?” Joe teased.

“Yeah. But I’m also getting something about a fish.”

“Maybe I’m trying to make you think it’s a fish because it’s actually a boat,” Joe replied flippantly.

Rami muttered: “Or you want me to think it’s a boat because it’s actually a fish.”

“Interesting.”

“Now you’re mentally singing Never Gonna Give You Up just to fuck with me.”

Joe gasped, pressing a palm to his chest. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do!”

Scarlett snickered, dunking her chicken tender in honey mustard, slurping Coke through a straw clenched between crimson-painted lips. “That sounds exactly like something you would do.”

“Fifteen seconds,” Lucy warned.

“Fish or boat, boat or fish...” Rami chanted, peering fixedly at Joe.

“Make a decision,” I taunted, hugging the notebook to my chest.

“I’m going with boat,” Rami decided.

“Final answer?” Lucy asked, then stopped the timer when Rami nodded.

“Loser!” Joe cackled victoriously, leaping out of his chair, waving his L-shaped fingers in the air. Calawah University students at nearby tables glanced over with wide, startled eyes, their beloved chicken tenders briefly forgotten. “How’s it feel to not win every round of a game, huh?! Loser!”

I flipped my notebook so Rami could see the extremely unskilled pencil sketch I’d drawn there: a smiling fish. “My condolences.”

“Damn.” Rami pulled a ten-dollar bill out of his wallet and slid it across the table to Joe. Joe snatched it up, tucked it into the waistline of his jeans like a stripper collecting money in her G-string, and slung his arm around my shoulders.

“We are the champions. Bask in our glory.”

Scarlett turned on her iPhone flashlight and waved it in slow arcs over her head. “Youuuuu are the champions, my friendssssss...”

From my usual lunch table, Jessica gazed at my esteemed place among the Lees with palpable envy, resting her chin in her hands. I had worked out a schedule that seemed fairly obvious given my extensive experience as a child of divorce: lunch with Jessica et al. one day, lunch with the Lees the next. I took a bite of the Chipotle veggie bowl that Joe had insisted on ordering for me and tossed Jessica a sympathetic wave. Get Ben’s Snapchat for me! she mouthed back. I harbored serious doubts that Benjamin August Hardy, former professional assassin, born in 1893, had a Snapchat.

Joe’s words from last week rolled around in my head; I could see him all over again, nodding to the enormous painting hung in Gwil’s upstairs office, telling me about those startling, ethereal figures who had initiated Ben into life as a vampire. They call themselves the Draghi. They collect dues from covens, offer protection, keep order, protect our secrets. But they also demand loyalty. They force people they want into service. They might try to make it seem like you have a choice, but you don’t. They destroy anyone who tries to resist them. And they feed on humans.

“This is so awesome,” Lucy sighed, elated. “We could never play Pictionary before, drawing something is way too much of a mental process, Rami always figured it out right away...”

But now they had a built-in blindfold, someone who could draw without Rami getting a peek into their thoughts, a fighting chance at hiding the truth from him...for thirty seconds, at least.

“Okay Benny Boy, you’re up.” Joe darted over to Ben’s side of the table and massaged his tense, muscular shoulders as Ben grimaced. “You got this. I believe in you. Baby Swan is gonna pitch you a home run.”

“I’ll pass,” Ben said.

“You can’t!” Lucy cried. “Ben, please? Rami got Scarlett’s, and then he didn’t get Joe’s...and I know he’s going to see though me immediately. You’re our only chance to tie things up and maybe beat him!”

“Traitor,” Rami told Lucy affectionately.

“Uhh...” Ben hesitated, glimpsing longingly at the doors that led outside to the grove of bigleaf maple trees. He was fidgeting restlessly with his vape pen.

“Come on, Benny!” Joe begged. “I’ll owe you. I’ll do anything.”

Ben perked up a little bit. “You’ll do my Calc 2 homework for a month?”

Joe groaned theatrically, but nodded. He was wearing a grey U Chicago hoodie today. “Fine. Okay. But you’re gonna have to learn that shit eventually, I can’t take the MCAT for you.”

“Deal.” Ben bumped his knuckles against Joe’s.

“Batter up,” Joe heralded in his best mock-umpire voice, grinning at me expectantly, drumming the table with his palms. “Go Baby Swan, go! What will she choose? Will she continue with the nautical theme? Will she change it up, maybe switch to beloved Chicago landmarks? Baseball or food? Will she invent a variety of pizza even more despicable than pineapple?”

“Hm.” I flipped to a fresh notebook page, scratched my temple with the eraser end of the pencil, then quickly sketched a picture for Ben. “Okay, I’m ready.” I showed the drawing to Ben while everyone else covered their eyes.

Ben shook his head, scowling. “You’ll have to try again. I have no idea what that is.”

“Really?!” I checked the picture again. Okay, it definitely didn’t belong in the Louvre or anything, but it was lifelike enough to be decipherable. “You don’t recognize it? At all?”

“No,” Ben replied flatly.

From behind his shielded eyes, Rami scanned through the images in Ben’s mind. He dropped his hands onto the table. “SpongeBob?!”

“Who...?” Ben ventured.

Everyone else looked too. “Oh yeah, that’s definitely SpongeBob,” Joe said, then chuckled. “Aww, Baby Swan, you even remembered his little necktie!”

“It’s so cute!” Lucy trilled.

Ben just stared at the picture, blinking, completely lost, increasingly morose. And now there was a new guest at the table; or maybe not a new one, maybe just a quiet one, something that perched on the ledge of every conversation and field of vision just waiting to tap its claws against the wall and make its presence known: that interminable reminder of Ben’s unconventional past life, of how incomparable his vampiric upbringing was to those of the rest of the Lee kids.

“Benny Boy, you’ve never seen SpongeBob?” Joe inquired gently. “No problem. We’ll have a marathon tonight. I have the entire series on DVD. Also several Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy action figures.”

Scarlett snorted. “This is why you’ve been single since Hoover was president.”

“I wasn’t single the whole time,” Joe corrected.

“Oh, really?” Not that I’m interested, my voice suggested. I was a total liar. I was super interested. Thank the great deity that Rami and Ben couldn’t read me like a restaurant menu. Today’s specials are Being In Love With Someone Wildly Inappropriate for $15.99, and also Lamenting My Own Lack Of Sexual Experience for $11.99. Oh, and clam chowder.

“He had a couple of...what would you call them?” Scarlett combed her elegant fingers through her voluminous blonde hair. “What’s the modern vernacular? Fuck buddies? Booty calls? Netflix and chill partners?”

My stomach lurched; I nonchalantly buried my fork in a mountain of guacamole and left it there. I kept my lips turned up into a smile like a mask. Of course he’s loved other people. Duh. He’s hot and immortal. Get over it. But that didn’t calm my pounding heartbeat at all, didn’t soothe that sudden and irrational melancholy.

“Whoa whoa whoa, okay, you’re making it sound way worse than it was,” Joe protested, glancing at me nervously.

Scarlett continued: “It wasn’t serious, whatever it was. None of them would have cared about your action figure collection or obsession with a city you haven’t lived in for fifty years. It wasn’t your personality they wanted. Thank god.”

Oh this is bad, I thought helplessly. How am I ever going to be able to compete with the memory of countless gorgeous vampire girlfriends?

“Uh, ScarJo, you’re single too.” And Joe’s nickname for her was strangely apt; Scarlett could pass for Scarlett Johansson’s younger, blonder, much hotter sister. And Scarlett Johansson, in case you’re somehow unaware, is already pretty fucking hot.

Scarlett flashed a grin. “Entirely by choice.”

“And much to Mercy’s eternal and profound concern,” Lucy told me. “She stages an intervention at least twice a month. Did I overhear one last week, Scarlett?”

“Oh jesus, yeah. I was like, ‘Mom, what the hell do I need a husband for? I have my own money. I can fix household appliances. I have a vibrator. I’m good to go.’”

Joe rocked back in his chair, howling. “You did not tell Mom that!”

“I did. She was so distraught. She just kind of pinched her eyes shut and shuddered and then went out back to feed the alpacas.”

“Scarlett, babe,” Rami managed between gales of laughter. “A vibrator isn’t going to keep you company for all of eternity. It’s not a suitable substitute for a life partner.”

“You’re right. It’s even better. It’ll never abandon or disappoint me. Assuming I keep the batteries fresh, of course.”

“Oh my god,” Lucy giggled into her hands.

“She’s not wrong,” I said, shrugging, sipping my Diet Coke.

And Joe peered over at me, surprised, intrigued, slowly raising his thin dark eyebrows. I winked back. Yeah, okay, I’ve never slept with someone. But that doesn’t mean I’ve never had an orgasm.

“Ah, loud thoughts! Loud thoughts! Joe, please!” Rami moaned, pressing his balled fists to his forehead.

Ben smirked. “There’s a color I’ve never seen from you before, Joe.”

“This family is the worst!” Joe exploded.

“I like that girl,” Scarlett decided, signaling to me with glossy maroon fingernails. “She can stay.”

Joe sighed, flustered, then shook it off as he turned to me. “You coming over tonight?”

“I can’t spend every night at your house petting alpacas, mob guy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling, draping his arm around the back of my chair. “Why not?”

“Well, my tonight-specific reason is that I’m visiting a friend.”

“Cool. Your friends are my friends. Can I visit too?”

“You’re aware that you’re a legit stalker, right?” But actually, Archer was dying to meet Joe: the loud Lee, the approachable Lee, the Lee who I definitely liked more than a Tinder swipe could ever convey. This could work. “Offer to buy dinner and you can come.”

“I’m a walking Visa, baby.”

Ben stood, hauled on his backpack, gathered up his trash to throw away. “I need a smoke break before Chem. See you guys later.”

“Don’t forget!” Joe called after him. “SpongeBob marathon starts at 8! I’ll bring the Milk Duds!”

And when Ben disappeared through the doors, a solemn hush descended over the table.

“Poor guy,” Lucy said softly. The other Lees nodded.

And again, I recalled what Joe had told me in Gwil’s office, what he had said when I asked how Ben came to join the Lee family. He was assigned to us, to be the liaison to our coven. And Gwil saw something in him. Potential, suffering, unrealized decency, I don’t know. But Gwil worked on him for years, trying to convince Ben to leave the Draghi when his contract was up and come live with us. To give a peaceful life a try. And to be honest, Ben never seemed interested. But something must have resonated with him, because we opened the front door on October 15th, 2016 and he was sitting on the steps of our porch with a single suitcase, puffing on that fucking vape pen and watching the storm clouds roll in off the Pacific Ocean.

But why would they just let him leave? I had asked, tracing my fingertips over the uncanny and magnificent faces in that painting. Why would they let him live?

Because they know how valuable he is. And because they think they can get him back.

“I think he’s a good person,” I said, breaking the silence. “You know. Underneath the whole being raised to be a killing machine thing.”

“Yeah,” Rami replied, frowning thoughtfully. “Just try not to spend too much time alone with him.”

Car Jacks And Sneak Attacks

“Joe, this is Archer James Foxchild, my first-ever best friend.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Joe said, shaking Archer’s oil-stained hand. “I understand you are really good at making mud pies and poking dead animals with sticks.”

Archer chuckled. “It’s true. We found a shark tooth down at La Push one time and I convinced Baby Swan here that it was from a sea monster. She had nightmares for months. Charlie called my dad over it and I got my Game Boy taken away.”

“No!” Joe gasped in horror. “Were you a Pokémon guy?”

“For sure.”

“Ruby or Sapphire?”

“Emerald.”

Joe grinned. “This dude knows what’s up.”

“And to think, my grandpa tried to tell me that you guys were freaks,” Archer replied.

“Well,” Joe conceded. “Not all of us.”

“Maybe you two should start dating,” I said. “Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit in my Honda and eat my Taco Bell cheese quesadillas and Cinnamon Twists and try not to interrupt all the sex.”

“Yes, you brought Taco Bell,” Archer sighed euphorically. “Give me five minutes, I just gotta finish rotating these tires real quick.” He jogged to the other end of the garage, knelt beside a Ford Mustang that was propped up on a jack, and starting twisting off lug nuts with a tire iron.

“You have a nice place here,” Joe observed, strolling around the small garage with his hands in the front pocket of his U Chicago hoodie, eyeing the fractures in the concrete floor and the spidering cracks in the windows. “You have any investors?”

“Are you kidding?!” Archer replied from the Mustang. “No, man, it’s just me. I rent for now, but at some point I’ll buy my own shop. Once I’ve saved up enough. A great big one with shiny new equipment and no mice squeaking behind the walls.”

“What’s your cash flow like?”

“I’m netting around three grand a month after taxes.”

“Not bad!” Joe noted admiringly.

“Yeah. It’s a hustle, but I love it.”

“Hey, I don’t know if you’d be interested—and absolutely no pressure if you’re not, really—but I do a lot of work with start-ups and I’d love to help you get into your own shop. By this Christmas, preferably. If we can work out a deal.”

“Really?!” Archer peeked incredulously over the hood of the Mustang.

“Absolutely.”

Archer beamed at me. “This guy is willing to drop serious cash to look good in front of you. You should probably marry him. No prenup though.”

I held my pinky out towards Joe, grinning. “No more sad prenups.”

He laughed and hooked my pinky with his. “Bankrupt me, bitch.”

I heard the metallic clang of a lug nut hitting the concrete floor and rolling under the Mustang. “Come back here, you bastard,” Archer muttered, then dropped to his stomach and crawled beneath the car.

“Hey, kid, be careful,” I fretted, crossing my arms across my chest and taking a step closer.

“Relax, Baby Swan, I am a professional, changing a tire for me is like feeding a fish for you, so just chill and keep fantasizing about those Cinnamon Twists—”

There was a squeal of metal as the car jack collapsed and the Mustang came crashing down. In a fraction of a second—faster than I could see him moving, faster than I could loose a scream—Joe had soared across the garage, yanked Archer out from beneath the falling Mustang, and dragged him to the center of the room.

“Oh fuck,” Archer wheezed, his dark eyes huge and fascinated and horrified. “Grandpa was right.”

I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)

We rolled up to the Lee house in my 1999 Honda Accord just as I polished off the last of my Cinnamon Twists and Archer chewed, tentatively and dazedly, on a Cheesy Gordita Crunch. The sun was beginning to set in a clouded sky that perpetually threatened rain.

He asked Joe for the fifth time from the back seat: “But wait, seriously, no one is going to eat me, right? Because I’m too young to die. I haven’t taken enough vacations yet. I can’t die without seeing Hawaii. I want to swim with the sea turtles.”

“No, none of us have ever eaten people. Well, almost none of us. Maybe stay away from Ben.”

“I would like a little more exposition,” Archer replied, blanching.

“Hey, if you stay until 8, you guys can join us for the SpongeBob marathon!”

Gwil and Mercy were waiting on the front porch, thanks to Joe’s ‘hey I accidentally exposed myself as a paranormal being and now we have a new friend, plz don’t be mad okay love you see you soon!1!!’ text.

“Welcome, sweetheart!” Mercy fussed, enfolding Archer into her arms as soon as he stepped out of the Honda. “Would you like some hummingbird cake? I just baked it this morning. And maybe some sweet tea too. And some peanut butter cookies. And banana pudding.”

“Sure,” he responded, bewildered. This lady does not seem like a bloodsucking demon, that voice said. And he was absolutely right.

“I’ll fix you up a tray,” Mercy promised, and hurried into the house.

“We’re so very happy to have you, Mr. Foxchild.” Gwil shook Archer’s hand firmly. “We don’t get many visitors around here. I’m sure you understand why.”

“My grandpa always insisted that there was something off about you guys. Especially you, Dr. Lee. Said you shouldn’t still be around.”

“Yes, I imagine that would have been disconcerting for him. He must have remembered us from the 1940s...that’s the last time we settled down in Forks. It’s not often that someone recognizes us after so long, but it happens. It was just Mercy and me and Rami and Joe back then. And look how far we’ve come.” Gwil beamed warmly, then turned to Joe. “But really, son, you’re going to have to stop telling humans about us.”

“Hold up, I was not responsible for her!” Joe exclaimed, waving at me. “Take it up with Ben!”

The garage door rumbled open and Scarlett sauntered out, wiping her filthy hands with a rag. She halted abruptly, stood there in her high-waisted vintage jeans and black crop top and bare feet with maroon-colored toenails, tilted her head and pondered Archer with an innocent sort of curiosity that I hadn’t seen from her before.

“Wait,” Archer said, gaping. “Is that...is that an Aston Martin Vantage in there?!”

“You bet,” Scarlett replied. “You want to learn how to work on it?”

“Uh, hell to the yeah!” He trotted over and they vanished into the garage together.

“Huh,” Joe muttered, watching them. “She was nice to him. Very weird.” He whirled back to me. “Anyway, come on. I promised you an education in classic rock music. And I shall deliver.”

Joe’s bedroom was a chaotic jumble of economics textbooks and Chicago Cubs paraphernalia and U Chicago apparel and action figures and comic books and classic rock posters. There was a massive Italian flag tacked to the wall above his bed. But what caught my attention immediately was a life-sized cardboard cutout of Ben lurking in the corner by a bookshelf full of cassette tapes.

“How is there any possible logical explanation for that?” I asked, pointing.

“Oh, that! That was a joke. When Ben first showed up, he pretty much lived in his room and never came out. Gwil was worried. Mercy was heartbroken. So I made a cardboard cutout of him and would bring it to family activities and do this really deep and seductive Ben voice when I pretended to have conversations with him. It gave the whole situation some levity...and I think Ben secretly liked that we missed him enough to make an artificial version to fill the void.”

“So this bitchy, brooding, blood-craving Ben I met is actually a drastic improvement?”

“Oh, Baby Swan,” Joe confided, almost sadly. “You have no idea what he was like four years ago.”

“I’m glad he has you. All of you. That he has a chance to get better.”

“I think you might be good for him too. Seeing a human as a real person instead of a walking, talking Hi-C juice box. And you care about him, don’t you? Despite everything.”

“Of course. It’s not his fault they taught him to be a monster.”

Joe just looked at me for a while, and then he cradled my face with one hand and grazed a thumb across my cheek “You’re never going to stop saying things that knock me into next week, are you?”

“Joe...” I hesitated, laying my hand over his. His skin was smooth and yielding yet strong, cool yet not unnaturally so. Refreshing. Safe. Fan-fucking-tastic. Oh noooooo. “Are we a thing?”

“Why? Do you want to be a thing?”

“Oh, uh, no, I was just wondering if we were.”

He stepped away, teasing me with a crooked smirk. “...So you don’t want to be a thing?”

“What would that entail?”

“Well...we’d be an official thing, you and me.” He shot finger guns at me, and then towards himself. “Which means you can’t be a thing with anyone else. And neither can I.”

“Ahhh, I see. So this thing is an exclusive thing.”

“Will you shut up and just admit that you’d totally be thrilled to be a thing with me?”

“Fine. Whatever. We’re a thing.”

“Nice.” He high-fived me.

“This is the most romantic moment of my life.”

“But wait, there’s more.” He went to the bookshelf, browsed through his cassette tape collection, found the one he wanted and popped it into a boombox that was probably older than I was. The frantic opening piano notes of I’d Do Anything For Love poured out.

“Meat Loaf,” I said in disbelief. “Really. This is the product of your superior taste in music. This is the culmination of over a century of musical experience. Meat Loaf.”

“The man is a genius!”

“This is all an elaborate joke about my vegetarianism, isn’t it?”

“No,” Joe mused. “But now that you mention it, I have yet another reason to force you to appreciate this song.” He took my hand in his, spun me around like a ballerina in a slow and careful circle, sang along—with extreme and dramatic enthusiasm—to the music.

“And I would do anything for love

I'd run right into hell and back

I would do anything for love

I'd never lie to you and that's a fact...”

“I don’t dance,” I cautioned him, laying a palm against his chest to catch my balance. That brisk, comforting scent of pine and snow and peppermint was everywhere. It feels like I can’t stand to be away from him. Like I’ll never get close enough. “I am terribly uncoordinated. I will step all over your feet. And I’m really not sure if I can trust you. You didn’t even know the plural form of octopus until like eighteen hours ago. You’re kind of a disaster. A, you know, uh, unexpectedly charming, unconventionally super cute, kind of bizarrely enchanting disaster.”

“Yeah,” Joe whispered, smiling, tilting up my chin, leaning in to kiss me. “I like you too.”

Cato

He came out of the oak trees like a ghost, pushing aside massive chandeliers of Spanish moss that blotted out the dusk sun, his expensive shoes sloshing in the marshy water that flooded the rice field. He was wearing a full suit, but no top hat; his hair was black and chin-length and wild around his face. And at first I thought he was a hallucination, a dream conjured by heat sickness or those first dreaded signs of malaria. He was unnervingly, uncommonly beautiful; beautiful like a hurricane, beautiful like lightning or an eclipse. But he was real. I straightened up as I watched him approach, my back aching in protest, a basket full of seedlings slung over my shoulder.

“Mr. Cato.”

His voice, clear and beckoning and twisted by an accent I’d never heard before, rang in my skull like church bells. He called me mister. This white man called me mister.

“Yes sir?” And I almost added: You want to be careful there, sir. The water moccasins like to hide among the tree roots, especially when the sun starts going down. But I had an inexplicable feeling that this man wasn’t afraid of things like snakes. Maybe the snakes should be afraid of him.

“Mr. Cato,” he said again, this time to himself, very quietly, tasting it.

I kept trying to look away, to disentangle my gaze from him like a hook out of a sturgeon’s mouth, because staring piercingly and astonished at a white man like that in the rice swamps of South Carolina in 1851 could get me beaten or the lash, could get my teeth pried right out of my jaw. But it didn’t seem to bother him. He grinned, hugely, all-knowingly, under prehistoric golden eyes like an alligator’s. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. And he was proud.

“Do you want to be free?” he asked, almost hissed, still grinning from the tree line.

What kind of question was that? Did a sandpiper want to fly? Did a coyote want dirt under its paws and flesh disappearing down its throat? But that wasn’t something you ever confessed aloud, not if you wanted your feet on the ground instead of swinging ten inches above it. But this man wasn’t a master, wasn’t an overseer. He wasn’t from the South. He didn’t carry a whip or a club to remind you of the rules of the world. He stood there tall and radiant in the shadows of the fading daylight like he was the one who wrote the rules to begin with; which meant that maybe he could change them. “Yes sir.”

“I can only take you,” the man warned. “No others. No family. No friends.”

“No trouble, sir,” I told him. “They sold my family. They hanged my friends.”

The man’s grin stretched wider under glinting eyes. His canine teeth were sharp, I realized: like a coyote’s, like a snake’s fangs. He held out his hand. “We are going to get along very well, you and I.”

I let the basket fall from my shoulder. I slogged through the mud and rows of wispy verdant rice plants to meet him in the shade of the oak trees. And there, for the first time in forever, a man with skin the color of bones looked me dead in the eye and shook my scarred hand.

“Welcome, Cato,” he whispered; and I was home.

He took my face in his cool palms, gingerly, reverently, like a lover. He touched his teeth to my throat. And every nerve ending in my body flooded with wildfire as he dragged me, screaming, into the depths of the forest.

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

So I just saw your Halloween prompts! I don't think you've done this one yet so could you do "we hate each other but we were invited to a mutual friend’s party and were warned to be civil so you complimented my costume and fuck you, i haven’t changed yet"?

from halloween prompts here

ok I thought I'd get a little funky with this one and set it within the first year of them getting shoved in the shatterdome together when they’re just total dicks to each other. for reference this is the ABSOLUTE EXACT OUTFIT NEWT IS WEARING!!!!!

----------------

Newt arrives fashionably late to the party.

Well, it’s more just like late late. His date with a hot ranger hopeful went a little over schedule, so over schedule Newt had to straight-up bail on the guy before they got the check, which he felt bad about, and then he left his phone in the bar and had to double back for it (awkwardly pretending he didn’t notice his date chatting up another guy at the counter), and then he missed his bus and had to hail the most expensive Uber ride of all time, and basically didn’t make it back to base until well after he’d promised to appear with cupcakes. Newt spent a shit-ton of time on those cupcakes and basically sold his soul to get the ingredients for them (rationing, man, it’s killing his amateur baker dreams), so he books it to the break room with the tray without even bothering to change into his costume first. These are more important.

Everything is in full swing when he gets there. The lightbulbs in the overhead lights have been swapped out for purple ones, and the music is pulsing so loud Newt feels it vibrating in his stomach; tacky Halloween garland, most of it homemade, is hung from practically everything; every available surface not cluttered with bottles of cheap booze or chip bowls is cluttered with plastic Jack-O-Lanterns and dripping black candles. In short, it looks pretty fucking fun. Newt squeezes his way through the costumed crowd, rearranges a few candles to carefully slip his cupcakes onto one of the repurposed card tables in a place of honor, and resolves to make himself a drink with the first bottle of something he finds that’s not fruit-flavored—he’s earned it after his shitty night.

There’s a tap at his shoulder before he can make good on his promise to himself of a drink. “Yeah, whatever, I know I’m late, dude,” he shouts over the music. “It’s been a night. I—” He turns. “Oh.”

It’s not Hermann like he (admittedly, foolishly) thought, but rather Tendo, who’s already flushed a bright red, undoubtedly from whatever horrific purple concoction is in his paper cup. Newt wonders if it’s what’s currently foaming in the ominous black cauldron labeled Witch’s Brew next to the cheese dip. He’ll pass, thanks. “It’s about time,” Tendo says. “Gottlieb has been on my ass all fuckin’ night long about where you are. Go find him already.”

“Hermann’s been on your ass about me?” Newt says, eyebrows jumping. Out of everyone in this entire goddamn room—including the janitorial staff, who have had a bone to pick with Newt ever since his ill-advised kaiju eyeball experiment, and resulting explosion, that left the laboratory coated in slime for a week—Hermann is perhaps the very last person he would ever expect to give a shit about his whereabouts. It’s just that Hermann prides himself on not caring about Newt’s personal life, something he takes great care to remind Newt of at every possible opportunity, and Newt would’ve thought he’d have jumped at the chance to enjoy every Newt-free second to the fullest. He should know well enough by now that Hermann manages to find something to complain about in anything. “Why?” he says, and this time, he rolls his eyes. “Did he miss having someone to bitch at? Or bitch about?”

“Easy,” Tendo says warningly. He pokes his finger at Newt’s chest. “Try to keep it civil, boys, okay? I am not having you crush our chances of Pentecost approving a New Year’s bash with a repeat of—”

“Okay, okay,” Newt sighs, waving him off. He doesn’t exactly want a reminder of his and Hermann’s, uh, behavior at the somewhat disastrous Valentine’s Day party, either, or how tense the lab was for weeks following it. Well. Tenser than usual. “I got it. No fights. Where is he?”

“Hiding in that corner,” Tendo says. He gestures with his cup, splashing purple Witch’s Brew all down the front of his dumb greaser costume, and Newt squints where he’s directed; he thinks he can make out pale, sharp cheeks and the flash of a tweed coat. Trust Hermann to wear tweed to a Halloween party. He’s so lame. “Nice pants, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Newt says, distracted, and pushes his way through the crowd.

Newt’s surprised that Hermann even bothered showing up in the first place, and he can’t imagine he’s been very exciting company to anyone all night. The guy hates parties. Sure enough, he’s staring sullenly at his shoes when Newt finally reaches him, back pressed against the wall, soda can gripped so tightly in his free hand Newt can see the aluminum starting to crinkle under his fingertips. Newt doesn’t say hi, just sidles up next to him. Hermann doesn’t seem to notice. “How’s the party?” Newt says.

Hermann’s whole body goes rigid; when he turns to Newt, his lips have curled down into an ugly grimace, like he just ate a whole lemon or maybe caught sight of his tragic hairdo in a mirror. It’s good to see you, too, Hermann, Newt thinks. “Distasteful,” Hermann says. “They haven’t a single decent thing to drink anywhere.”

“Hm,” Newt says. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I heard you were asking about me.”

“Hardly,” Hermann says with a scoff.

“I heard Tendo didn’t get a second alone you were asking about me so much,” Newt says. “What, did you miss me? I bet you just came here tonight to hang out with me, didn’t you? I bet you were all disappointed when I wasn’t here, and…”

“Hardly,” Hermann snaps. Newt grins. “My presence at this party is in no way affected by your own. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You were asking where I was, though,” Newt says.

Hermann’s lips contort again, this time into a thin line, and he turns a glare on Newt—though, Newt notices with a flare of glee, his cheeks have gone a bit pink. “I was aware you had…a date, tonight,” he says, slowly, “and—when you were not back by a reasonable time—well, forgive me for worrying that something may have happened to you.” His soda can begins to bend inward. “I wasn’t fancying the idea of having to tack on all of your work atop mine, is all.”

“Sure,” Newt says. He’d be touched, he thinks, if Hermann wasn’t the worst. “Anyway, look, I promise I’ll stay out of your hair—Tendo told us to behave ourselves. Just wanted to brighten your night real fast.”

Hermann snorts. “He warned me similarly. Well—in the interest of civility, I suppose I should compliment your costume.”

The grin vanishes off Newt’s face. Any feelings of good will towards Hermann—any sentimental feelings of companionability—that have been steadily building vanish with it. “Costume?” he says.

“Yes,” Hermann says. He waves his cane up and down, vaguely, over Newt. “Costume. ‘S better than mine, all I’ve got are some bloody vampire fangs in my pocket I haven’t even bothered to put on. You’re a clown, are you not?”

Briefly, Newt considers upending Hermann’s soda can over his head, or maybe indulging in a repeat of the Valentine’s Day party and using that whole fucking black cauldron. Instead, he just blushes and scowls. “Do you have to be such a jackass all the time?” he snaps. “No, I’m not dressed up like a fucking clown. These are my date clothes. A clown—that’s something coming from you, Doctor Sweatervest, you wouldn’t know fashion if it crawled out of the fucking Breach and stomped on you.”

Hermann looks mortified. Good—he should. “Newton—I didn’t—"

“Have a fun time,” Newt says, and storms off.

The thing about Hermann is that he’s a real square who knows exactly how to get under Newt’s skin, even when he doesn’t mean it; the thing about Newt is that he’s majorly cool and knows exactly how to get under Hermann’s skin, and he almost always means it. Newt thinks, if they were other people, he might consider them Frenemies, but he really can’t imagine a world in which Hermann would ever willingly be his friend, so half of that is a bust. Besides, Hermann’s not really his enemy either. He’s more of a…rival. Though it does complicate things severely when Newt takes into account how bad Hermann wants to get into his pants.

“That’s really great and all,” the guy Newt’s been chatting up by the snack table says, “but I don’t have any idea who you’re talking about.”

“It’s just like,” Newt says, “I know he wants me. I’ve caught him staring at my ass, like, twenty times in the lab. And when the eyeball incident happened—he was way too happy to strip me down for the emergency shower.” The event was very conflicting for Newt, too, to be quite honest, and he still looks back on it (Hermann, shouting at him and calling him an idiot, while ripping off his sizzling clothing) with a mixture of annoyance and arousal. He shrugs. “I just don’t know why he doesn’t admit it to himself. We’d all be happier. Can you believe he said I was dressed like a clown?”

“Uh-huh,” the guy says. “Look, Dr. Geiszler, I’m just trying to get some pretzels.”

“What?” Newt says. “Oh. Sorry. Here—” He uses a plastic spoon to scoop some out onto his new friend’s orange paper plate, and finds himself alone again very swiftly.

It’s not like the clown comment ruined his night or anything. It’s just that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it, once, or stop talking about it either, and every time he does, he feels angry and embarrassed all over again, and maybe sort of wants revenge against Hermann for it. He think he might know how to get it, too.

Hermann is lurking in the same place Newt left him, though instead of his soda can, he’s tensely nursing a paper cup. His name is Sharpied across it in his familiar scribble. Newt announces himself by wrapping his fingers around Hermann’s, raising the cup to his lips, and taking a sip. (It’s more soda.) “Hey, Hermann,” he says.

Hermann stares at him blankly; a familiar blush is making its way back to his cheeks. “Ah,” he says. “Hello.”

“What’s up?” Newt says. He scoots in next to Hermann until their shoulders touch; then, for good measure, he brushes his hand over the one Hermann has clenched firmly on his cane. He feels Hermann shiver. “You having fun?”

“Not—” Hermann clears his throat. He’s looking down at their hands. “Er. Not particularly.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Newt says, and (this time, settling his hand on top of Hermann’s) adds in a low voice, “I bet I could make it more exciting.”

The revenge plan was pretty simple. Preying upon Hermann’s obvious feelings for him, Newt would seduce him, get halfway through makeouts in some secluded hallway, and then pull away and be like just kidding! You suck!, announce he was going to find the sexy ranger he had a date with tonight who was totally into him, and go enjoy the rest of the party while Hermann—well, moped, Newt guessed. At least understood how Newt felt earlier. Except once they actually start making out, Newt realizes that’s kind of fucked up of him, and if Hermann tried the reverse (not that Newt has feelings for Hermann, obviously, but like—hypothetically), Newt would probably lock himself up in his quarters and cry for weeks. Plus, Hermann is apparently kind of awesome at making out?

“I take it your date did not go well,” Hermann breathes in his ear. “I can’t say I mind very much. Will you pull my hair again?”

Newt’s going to examine all this later. “Fuck yeah,” he says.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #alcohol cw ///

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rory-for-short · 3 years

Text

We are not Our Parents| Part Three

Hauntingly Beautiful

He was wearing the stupid wire. Across from Lucy's complex, Batman and Robin took watch. Tim with his laptop and coffee and Bruce with his eagle eyes and monitoring equipment. They could both hear Dick Graysons nervous shuffling and see him shifting weight from foot to foot. It was obvious from first thing in the morning his son had a date tonight. Dick had been meeting up with her without telling Bruce for the past two and a half weeks. This morning he had betrayed himself of his plans. Bruce could hear him singing "sixteen going on seventeen" in the shower. He had used the syrup on his pancakes to make the shape of a heart. It was obvious he was seeing her again. He had pulled his oldest son aside and explained to him. The classic, 'I'm not stupid, you are wearing the wire tonight no room for debate,' conversation. He could tell Nightwing was unhappy when he agreed to it.

Dick Grayson had brought sunflowers in a bouquet. She had them on her dangly earings when he last saw her. He figured she might like the real thing.

He was starting to feel really weird about this situation. How much did she know? If she knew nothing, this was as scummy as he could get and not even a million showers could get rid of the feeling. If she knew everything. He won't hesitate to do to her what he did to her mugger. It freaked him out. How could he be such a schodingers man? Simultaneously Dick Grayson and Nightwing until he knew the truth.

He knocked on Lucy's door. She was smiling brightly when it swung open. Oh God, she was wearing red lipstick. It looked so good on her, but he couldn't help think about her family who often sported the same color in the same place.

"Aww, yah got me flowers!" She squeeled in an accent identical to her mother's. Oh how obvious that she was a perfect gene splice of the two. Mabey it wasn't his PTSD giving him danger signals all this time. Mabey it was his subconscious.

"I hope you like them, and don't have any allergies or anything-" he started.

"They are absolutely perfect, here let me put them in water. Why don't you take off your shoes and stay awhile," she was floating on air, so graceful and calculated in her movments as she set the flowers in a vase.

He felt a twinge of embarrassment. Her curtains were open. Bruce and his brother had a perfect veiw of everything, plus perfect audio. How stupid must he seem right now for not figuring it out immediately. Her voice, the way she looked, she was so much like Harley. Her graceful steps and body language just like the Joker.

"So," she started towards him tilting her head, "you wanna start back where we left off last time?" She suggested in a low sultry voice, her accent less definable, as she lifted her eyebrows and began pressing herself against him. He could feel Bruce's judgment radiating through the bay window.

"Ahh, actually I wanted to talk to you about something," he explained skirting around her to sit on the couch.

"Yeah what's up?" She questioned. Furrowed brow and a slightly pouty lip. She didn't look like either of them now. Nightwing relaxed under her concerned gaze. He planned how he was going to get information from her. It was super risky. Bruce would be pissed. However, Bruce was on his shit list, so he didn't care.

"It's just that, my dad is hosting a charity event," Dick nervously scratched the back of his head. "I know its kinda early to do something like that we've only been seeing each other for a month or so-" Lucy cut in.

"You want me to go to a Charity event... and meet your family?" She laughed nervously.

"Look, it's fine if its too soon for the 'meeting the parents stuff.' I just never have a date to my dad's insufferable parties and I thought you could bring a little life to it." That was true. Plan aside, he still felt like having someone at one of those awful events could make it fun. He hoped Bruce thought he was just good at manipulating and didn't mean it. But he kinda ment it.

"I've never been to a charity event. It might be more fancy than I'm use to, but I'll donate anyway. Is it like one of those television ones?" She asked intrigued with the idea.

Holy shit. It just now donned on him that she didn't know who he was. Well, she did. She knew his name was Dick Grayson. It must have never occurred to her that her Dick Grayson was the young socialite 'Richard Wayne' as the press knew him. She said on her first date with him that she wanted to eat the rich. She might dump him before he could get any real info out of her. That was a secret relief to him.

"Mmmkay, this is going to be hard to explain. Have you ever heard of Bruce Wayne?"

She gave him a 'no shit Sherlock' kind of look and answered in a monotonous and sarcastic manner that chilled him. In that moment her expression and tone belonged to the Joker.

"Yeah. Bruce Wayne rings a bell or two," she answered.

"Well, have you ever heard of Richard Grayson Wayne?" He probed.

The look on her face. It was the look of Harley being double crossed. Of his dad cornering the Joker. It was that hereditary deer in the head lights look; and just like them, it was gone in a second and replaced with faux confidence.

"Don't tell me I've been bruising up a man worth millions," she joked with an eyebrow quriked. Suddenly, her face went back to pale and fear stricken.

"Oh god," she muttered quietly, "we hafta beak up."

Dick was confused. So was Bruce and Tim who had been listening in this whole time. It wasn't what any of them were expecting.

"Okay," Dick attempted to regain control, "I know you said 'eat the rich and all' but we give to charity and-"

"You are in the public eye. Press are probably all over you, right?" Lucy Reasoned.

Dick nodded. Batman belived he knew where this was going. Press on her = press on her father. Her father's whereabouts wouldn't be safe. She would break up with Dick to protect her family.

"Look I like you. I really, really, like you. So I'm gonna tell you that I'll be nothing but trouble. I'm no good. If they find out you are with me they will drag you and your family's name through the mud!" She warned getting more and more frantic. The adrenaline set in to both parties now.

"You aren't making any sense, what do you mean?" He was baiting of course. He knew exactly what she ment, but he had to hear her say it. She sat down next to him and began nervously scratching her inner forearm. That was an unhealthy grounding technique. Dick learned that in therapy.

"So, you know how your family is well known-" she trailed off. Dick encouraged her by nodding. "Well so is mine. But they are well known for all the wrong reasons. My mom and dad were terrorists. Famous terrorists." She sighed and gathered herself. "I'm sure you've heard of them. Uhg, it's like being related to Hitler or something!" She frustratedly palmed at her hair. Her dad did that alot. He'd get that same crazy look in his eyes doing it too.

"Just tell me what you are getting at please" Grayson earnestly pleaded while taking her hands and removing them from her hair. Her frame relaxed.

"What I'm say'n," she continued, "is I was brought into the world by Gotham's most wanted clown duo. And that if you like not having the world's largest target on your back, we gotta call this thing off." Her eyes were teary and she looked down. Once more. She didn't look like either of her parents. Her face was just Lucy.

Dick, at this point, should have kept pressing. That's interrogation 101. Instead he moved her hair behind her ear and pulled her into a hug. He soothingly held her and petted his hand through her hair.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. We are not our parents. I promise" he shushed while holding her against him.

"I know," she muttered in a monotone and low voice, trying to pull it from all emotion, but he felt the tears on his shirt. He pulled back and held her shoulders. She was deflated with puffy eyes and a tired distant stare.

"Hey, I know you are dealing with alot. You don't have to got to the Charity event if it's too much. But frankly I don't give a damn if they try to drag my name through the mud," Dick swore. Lucy sniffled and gave a soft smile.

"You don't get it.. It's not just the press. My family keeps tabs on me. Arthur escaped Arkam just this month, and Harley sends me cards in the mail. You aren't safe." She gave him a look of pity. Her dad used that look on her mother right before double crossing her. Immediately, Grayson's sheilds were up.

"So they know you are here? You know where they are?" He stammered out.

"I don't know where they are. I mean I have a vague approximation of where mo- Harley is but Arthur is hypervigilint.

That's the second time she used that name. No one knew the Jokers name. Not him, not Bruce, not the FBI. Mabey it was only an allies or sydonyme, but It was the biggest lead to Jokers identity yet.

He figured Bruce was already searching every database at his disposal for any criminal named Arthur.

"Anyway, they find out I'm prancing around town with a billionaire's kid, you are as good as ransom. I can hear them now. 'Why kitten you've been holding out on us. Though you could keep the millions to yourself huh? Dontcha know you gotta pay back your old pals in show biz'" she imitated her father's cadence and did jazz hands when she said 'show biz'. Dick could hear Tim laughing over the ear peice, and a quiet 'I love her' giggled though by him in the receiver. As uncanny as the impression was, he felt a bit of comfort in that moment. She understood something not many people of the world could. Being tormented by the Joker as a child. This really fucked up situation gave them a sort of unbreakable understanding. He laughed a little suddenly before realizing how very inappropriate it was in that situation.

"Sorry," he looked down and cleared his throat, "you just caught me off gaurd there."

Lucy snorted, "It's fine. I guess luck would so have it that I developed a wicked sense of humor," she smiled rolling her eyes." She then hesitated before continuing, "I'll think about going to the Charity thing... as long as I can lay low, unless you changed your-"

"No! Of course you can come! Oh you are gonna hate my family they are insufferable sometimes!"Dick exclaimed grinning ear to ear. He could hear Tim protesting from the ear peice. He didn't care. He hugged Lucy and turned off the sound. When Lucy got ready for bed, he spoke into the wire "Hey I'm clocking out for the night. Don't wait up," he whispered into it before disconnecting it and leaving the two on the roof with radio silence.

#batman #batkids #bruce wayne #bruce #wayne #tim #drake #timedrake #tim drake #harley quinn #harley #lucy quinzel #lucy x dick #lucy #lucy flek #fanfiction #fanfic #tw ptsd

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker X Reader - “Ghost Driver”

When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.

Part 2

“Where’s all your stuff?!” Frost asks since the apartment is pretty much empty.

“Gave it to Adam,” you sulk. “He wouldn’t sign the divorce papers so I gave in; I don’t even care… I’m glad he’s out of here.”

Jonny gazes at you in silence, a million words rushing through his mind and The Joker’s henchman can’t articulate anything close to what he would like to vociferate besides foolish small talk:

“How are you holding up?”

“Not sure… I don’t even know what the hell happened to us…It used to be so great and then he started making comments about my weight, gossiping with his friends behind my back, then cheated… I couldn’t handle it,” Y/N confesses although Frost is already acquainted with the dreadful story of her crumbled marriage.

“Not what the hell happened to us,” he decides to underline his personal opinion. “I think the question should be what the hell happened to him: you didn’t do anything wrong. And I believe you look perfect,” he mumbles the last sentence.

“What was that?” you search the fridge for his favorite soda.

“Nothing... nothing…”

“Here you go,” you offer the cold Fanta to a distraught companion.

“Thanks, Y/N. Here’s the money for tonight,” he gives you the envelope. “As usually, half now , half after the job is done.”

“OK,” you accept the terms without issues because it’s how The Clown Prince of Crime pays for your services. “Jonny, why is there an extra thousand dollars in here?!”

“Ummm…” the man tries to find a reasonable explanation yet Y/N can’t accept his strategy.

“Should I text Mister Joker and thank him for the bonus?”

“Nope,” he bites on his lip.

“I appreciate it,” you return the extra cash to Frost. ”I’m fine. Really.”

“Well…” he takes the bills and stashes them in his wallet, “… let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise I will, “ you smile. “I swear on my Turbo honor,” the joke makes him smile also.

“Hey Y/N… I was thinking… maybe one of these days, if you feel like it, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to… ”

Frost’s phone keeps ringing and he retrieves from his suit’s pocket, annoyed about the interruption.

“It’s Audra,” he huffs while declining the call.

“Might be important,” you sort of urge him to answer.

“Meh, I doubt it. She will chew my ears off regarding our relationship that ended 3 months ago. I’m not interested,” he strolls towards the exit due to another pressing matter he has to attend. “I have to go, Mister Joker has a meeting soon; I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

“See you,” you wave and lock the door when your cell alerts of an incoming text from The Joker.

Downloading two pictures… Pictures?!

“Oh…my… God…!” you hold your breath when the first image depicts a totally naked King of Gotham reflected in the mirror at his gym and squeal when the second one shows a close up of his mid-section.

“Oh my God!” you burst out laughing as you admire the unexpected missive. “Heeeelllo Mister Joker,” you mutter and actual phrases pop up on your screen.

“I sent these to the wrong number, Y/N. Ignore and erase them!”

“Of course, sir!” you immediately reply with no intention of doing it for the moment.

Why?

The hilarious error shook you up from apathy and it’s worth saving those pics for a bit longer since you can’t remember the last time something got your attention after the messy divorce.

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

11:49 PM

The Joker is the first one to get in the car next to you, firmly clutching to his suitcase full of diamonds freshly stolen from “Diamond Emporium” store on Glissan Avenue. You notice the other goons sneaking to the cars deliberately positioned around nearby streets for tonight’s robbery. How come J doesn’t go with them?

The dilemma is simple:

The green haired menace typically arrives with his regular crew when he plans heists but has Y/N pick him up after the job is done.

“Hi Mister Joker,” you greet your employer.

“Hey,” he acknowledges your presence. “Did you delete the pictures?” The Joker gets straight to the point.

“Yes,” you lie and tell the truth in the same time: you erased the whole body image but kept the close up one for future reference.

“Good. What did you think?” the hasty interrogation prompts a careful chosen response.

“You look very…,” and you pause in order to find the correct term since a tiny mistake could set him off. “… Healthy, Mister Joker.”

“I do,” he huffs quite pleased with your statement.

You wish to add more but Frost and the new hire squeeze in the back seat awaiting orders.

“You’re in luck kid,” Jonny places a box filled with precious gems at his feet. “Your first assignment and you get to meet Turbo.”

The young man opens his mouth in amazement as you move the fingers from your right hand in the air instead of a proper introduction.

“You’re Turbo?! I thought you’re a guy!” Nick blurs out and Frost punches him in the head, displeased with the observation.

“Sounds empty,” you growl while The Clown snorts.

“My Ghost Driver A GUY??!! Ha-ha-ha-ha!” the unnerving, screechy noises make the newbie shrivel up. “Turbo, A GUY!” he continues to amuse himself before giving Nick a psychotic glare.

“I’m…I’m so sorry, I meant no disrespect,” he nervously stutters especially since J called you “his”.

The poor bastard’s oblivious about what the label implies in The Clown’s universe: when The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations.

“Where the fuck did you find this buffoon?” you chew on your gum, irritated.

“He’s Richard’s nephew,” Jonny sucks on his teeth.

“Uncle Panda is infinitely smarter,” Y/N barks at the revelation.

“I’m truly sorry,” Nick apologizes again and you cut him off.

“Save it!... … I hear sirens,” you slowly inhale and The King calmly articulates:

“I forgot to mention I accidentally triggered the silent alarm.”

Translation: he did it on purpose.

You snicker at the first lights blinking in the distance, excited to have some fun after stressing so much in the past weeks. The vehicles belonging to the gang scatter in different directions as you step on the gas pedal, accelerating towards the numerous police cars answering to the 10-64 code.

“That’s my girl!” J cracks his neck, already hyped at the adrenaline rush burning his veins: The Ghost Driver is perfect to offer him what he craves and she always delivers.

That’s why Turbo is his.

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

4:37 AM

“Hi…Mister…Mister Joker…” you attempt to talk without slurring.

“It’s Ella,” his girlfriend snarls.

“Why…where is he?” you guzzle down half of glass of wine, adamant in having a chat with your boss.

“Well, after you two had a merry time being chased by cops all over town, he came home and now he’s sorting out the diamonds,” the woman bitterly reports.

“I wanna talk to him,” you sniffle and drink some more alcohol.

“You just saw him. I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

“I’m sure it can’t!” you shout. “I just received important information he’d be i…interested in,” you finally make it through the whole sentence.

Ella stomps in the living room, vexed at your behavior.

“It’s Turbo,” she shoves the phone in his fingers. “The bitch is wasted!”

“What did you call me?!” the appalled Y/N is about to burst when The Joker’s deep voice resonates I her ear.

“Yeah?”

“Sir,” you correct your bitter tone. “I h-have very important news!”

“I’m listening,” J ignores his woman as she cusses you out.

“I have to tell you in person, sir. Let’s go on a date and I’ll reveal the entire shocking...”

“Huh?!”

“I have crucial information…”

“Quit repeating yourself!” The Joker interrupts. “You’re not making any sense. Go to sleep and we’ll catch up after you sober up.”

“But I wanna go on date Mister Joker,” you gulp the rest of the wine and prepare for a fourth round.

“Why, because I look healthy?” J mocks and Ella sighs, not understanding the odd conversation she’s witnessing. “… …. … Hello?”

A loud thud, then dialing tone at the other end of the line.

“I think she passed out,” The King of Gotham concludes, not particularly worried at the sudden halt of your monologue.

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

3 Days Later

The late meeting is almost done: the buyers already purchased the diamonds J had for sale, among them your ex-husband Adam that has a small crowd gathered next to him; he’s supposedly famous for his crappy attitude enjoyed by jerks sharing the same ludicrous humor.

“You know I’m sensible when it comes to challenges and I couldn’t grasp why she doesn’t want my help in shedding a few pounds. What’s the harm in that?! I love curves but sometimes I don’t, ya’ know?” he winks and the group laughs.

The Joker is arranging money in duffle bags, his concentration diverted by the impromptu comedic performance. What the heck are they yapping about?

Frost is certainly in a foul mood: J can guess his trusted henchman is worked up since the usual chilled Jonny can’t control his anger.

“What’s wrong with being voluptuous, hm?” he addresses Adam and it clicks for The Joker: this is about Y/N.

“Nothing at all,” he smirks and the laughter around the room dies out because not too many dare screwing with Jonny Frost. “I was merely emphasizing that if a woman can’t lose weight, she’s doomed. Y/N lost me, how is she going to get another stud if she…”

“Perhaps she’s not interested in pieces of shit; definitely had her share!” Frost grumbles at the absurd remarks.

The Joker has no clue about what’s going on, yet he won’t deny today’s entertainment is far from boring.

“Give me a break!” Adam scoffs. “Who’d sniff her tail if she refuses to get skinnier? Ooohhh, wait a minute, we might have an admirer,” he arrogantly slides your cell out of his coat. “I was browsing her pictures and what do you know? A gentleman sent Y/N a picture of his junk three days ago. I am deeply sorry, my bad. She does have somebody sniffing her tail. What kind of loser sends images of his dangling goodies to another dude’s wife?!”

“Ex-wife!” Jonny sneers whilst J’s calculation leads to an easy verdict: you kept one pic.

“Whose junk is this?! Is it yours?” your estranged spouse accuses Frost without any evidence.

“It’s my junk,” The Joker’s serene revelation makes everyone freeze: they have no idea how to react at the puzzling escalation of events.

Is he bluffing?!

“I wasn’t aware I require permission in order to text whatever I desire to whomever I want.”

Awkward silence and Frost approaches Adam, boiling with indignation.

“Why do you have Y/N’s phone?”

Your husband doesn’t have a chance to justify his action: Jonny’s punch throws him to the ground, immediately followed by his unsettling ultimatum.

“You son of a bitch, what did you do to her?”

Your former husband gets on his elbow ready to attack when The King’s stern inquiry stops his motion:

“WHERE.IS.MY.TURBO?”

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

After 1 hour

Frost lifts you higher in his arms while you keep wheezing, trying to regain control.

“I’m sorry…I attacked you,” the weakened Y/N whispers. “I thought you were Adam...”

After being abducted and left to starve for the last 3 days, you had one clear purpose: to kill the guy that did it. Adam surely crossed the line with his despicable plan of making you lose weight: he creeped in your apartment, kidnapped you and took you to his home where you were chained in the cellar until Jonny found you. The basement was dark and you couldn’t see, that’s why you used whatever strength you had left in order to attack the individual responsible for your misfortune.

Turned out it was actually a rescue party although Frost is now the proud owner of a beautiful bump courtesy of Y/N.

“No problem,” Jonny takes you to his SUV, carefully laying you down in the passenger’s seat. “How’s your head?” he wipes the dried blood on your cheeks since Adam knocked you out unconscious while you were talking to The Joker after the heist.

“I’m OK,” you start crying, mostly mad at yourself for being such an easy prey, yet you didn’t see it coming.

“You know… It’s OK not to be OK,” Frost opens a bottle of water and gives it to you. “I’ll take you home, you can take a shower and I’ll have the doctor come for an emergency evaluation. Are you hungry?”

“I’m so hungry,” tears stream down your face and Jonny has a great proposal.

“I’ll order some food and if you want me to I can stay with you. After you feel better, we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to…”

The Joker rolls his eyes, deciding to emerge from the shadows.

“Wow, this is painful to watch. Frost believes he’s still in high school: basically he’s asking you on a date. There, done. No need to beat around the bush. Jesus!” J scolds about a subject he shouldn’t mess with. “I have a heist next week, you better be good to go by then!” he gestures at the confused duo. “If you’ll excuse me, I have my own date to honor. We’re done here, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Jonny replies for both, unwilling to split hairs with The Joker and his obnoxious aberrations. “Here’s your cell,” he returns the item to you and you snatch it, relieved. You seem to have an outburst of energy as you unlock the secured folder.

“Where’s Adam?”

“I don’t know, we had an altercation at the warehouse then he scrammed,” Frost reports, ogling a strange looking Y/N typing on her phone.

“He won’t be able to hide,” you grin and send the attachment to The Joker.

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

“We’ll be late for dinner,” Ella kisses The Clown. “I’m not a 100% positive why we had to waste precious time and come for her,” she pouts and drags him after her towards their vehicle.

J’s phone chimes and he stops in his tracks, not expecting a message from you seconds after the encounter.

“Mister Joker, you were very generous to share pictures with me.

Allow me to do the same.

Your Turbo.”

Imagines downloading and he’s not sure what to do when pics appear one by one: frames taken by the private investigator you hired to follow Adam when you suspected he was cheating. The bastard was diligent, but he was eventually caught in the act three days ago.

Who’s the woman he’s with?

The Joker’s Queen.

“What’s wrong?” she frowns at the visible switch in his temper.

The Clown ruthlessly slams Ella against the hood while her cell also receives a text from Y/N:

“Who’s the bitch now?”

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker #jokerleto #Jonny Frost #the joker suicide squad #joker fanfiction #joker imagine #joker suicide squad #mister joker #mister j #Mistah J #dcu #dc

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imdefyingmavity · 3 years

Text

Defrost

Weather is starting to turn cold here so quick Wintry S2 fluff with a still kinda bad demon kitty.

Vicky decides to cause a snowstorm at the worst time, for Eleanor.

Michael was beaming. This was absolutely hilarious.

It was only his third ethics lesson and definitely his favorite so far, none of which had anything to do with what he was supposed to be learning. Presumably.

When he’d begrudgingly arrived, all of the humans had been gathered waiting for class to start, Chidi stood at the chalkboard tapping his foot, while Jason and Tahani sat awkwardly at either ends of the couch, as if it wasn’t obvious enough that they were having a ‘secret fling’ the rest of the dummies were too blind to notice.

There’d been an annoying twinge in his chest when there didn’t seem to be any sign of Eleanor, the one human who wasn’t afraid to sit near him and make these damn lessons somewhat bearable.

“She’s decided to skip today. Apparently the weather was far too good to stay inside when there’s good ‘Arizona style skin baking’ to do.” Chidi had explained with a groan when Michael had asked about his missing classmate.

The brief irritation and pettiness that Eleanor hadn’t asked him to ditch classes with her was quickly replaced by a burst of giggles, his hand moving to his mouth.

“What is so amusing?” Tahani asks, looking up.

“Oh, it’s great, trust me! I was about to warn you all; Vicky’s about to get Janet to mess up the weather so that we have a week of insanely cold snowstorms! Apparently something to do with Eleanor giving you ‘the cold shoulder’, yada yada,” Michael waves off, addressing the egocentric princess; “And...Ha! Eleanor is out there sunbathing?! Oh, that’s priceless!”

Why did he never think of that in all those reboots? Maybe because sending murder hornets after Chidi whenever the two of them tried to have a romantic picnic or soak them in torrential rain seemed too similar. But this was even better! If only he could take credit for it.

A flash of white outside the windows gets all the humans to their feet as they turn to see Michael’s words come to fruition. Heavy, sharp winds carrying the thickest of snowflakes begin whirling around and burying the ground outside in a quickly rising layer of powder.

“Oh, so THAT’S snow! Awesome!” Of course the Florida DJ hadn’t ventured far enough beyond his swamp city to see such weather before; “I wanna go eat it!”

“Trust me! You really don’t wanna go out in that, it’s not designed to be fun. I’m supposed to make some announcement to be broadcast in your homes later about a glitch and you all needing to stay inside.” Michael warns them of that.

Chidi turns on him; “And you said Eleanor’s out in that?!”

“Yeah! Imagine her trying to make her way back in that! She’s probably frozen solid already. That’ll teach her to skip class, right, Teach?” He raises his hand in the air.

Chidi leaves him hanging. As does Tahani. Not even Jason will indulge him.

Ugh. So much for a team. He drops his hand down as their stares on him turn to full on glaring.

“Tough room.” Michael puts his hands in his pockets.

“You’re supposed to not torture us anymore, you need to go make sure she’s okay.” Chidi tells him.

Oh, for fork’s sake. Why should he do that when Eleanor was gonna leave him to endure this dumb lecture while she got to relax and top her tan up? This was the best he was going to get to payback...as well as for the eight hundred previous defeats that he seemed to care less and less about each day.

“She’ll be fine! It’s only a bit of snow. And anyway, this isn't my torture, it's Vicky’s - speaking of which, Janet will be offline for a little bit as she’s supposed to be helping fix this, but it’s really just to make your quarantine more boring.”

See? He’s nice enough to fill them in on that and what thanks does he get?

“Okay then, I’ll go-.” Chidi starts towards the door.

Michael huffs and blocks the professor’s path; “No, you’re supposed to stay in...Plus your limbs might fall off from frostbite in five minutes.”

“You just said-.”

“I know what I said, she’ll still be fine...” Michael turns and stomps his way out the door, muttering under his breath; “...So long as I find her quick.” He clears his throat and exits into the snowy chaos.

It’s lucky his extra senses are able to help him find the path towards the beach, as the fog is getting denser along with the downpour. He snaps a pair of snow boots on to help him trudge through where his loafers don’t help quite as much, along with a long, blue coat flapping behind him. He doesn’t feel the cold as bad as the humans would, but it’s still a pain in the ash. It’s bad enough relinquishing control of his experiment, now his beautiful torture city is going to be wrecked by this wintry storm.

He hopes he wins some major extra credit scores in these ethics lessons for journeying out into this to help bring one filthy cockroach back...even if she was the most enjoyable cockroach to be around.

A claw reaches out to grip his ankle.

“AH, SHIRT!” He almost trips, at first expecting one of the ice demons to have taken off their skin and planning to surprise him; “Sven, is that you?!”

He glances down, seeing the hand still exposed through the snow on the ground, his sight adjusting to make out the fallen form, half-buried alive...well, close enough.

Oh. Crab.

He kneels down and digs the inches of snow away, exposing Eleanor’s shivering, half-naked form on the ground. Her hair is damp and her lips nearly bright blue, arms hugged tight around herself, her swimsuit possibly making her more cold than if she was wearing nothing at all.

“Eleanor? Eleanor, can you hear me?” He shakes her by the shoulder.

Flakes are caught in her eyelashes as she tries to open her lids, teeth chattering like those little wind-up novelty set he has in his cabinet.

“H-h-h-hey b-b-bud.” She says, smaller and weaker than he’s ever heard her; “C-c-care to t-t-turn up the...th-thermostat...a b-b-bit?”

About another twenty degrees Celsius?

Michael sighs, brushing the snow away from her hair, though more quickly falls on her. He knows he should take this moment to mock her, to take advantage of this rare opportunity to see her in true misery...But he’s pretty sure she’s going to pass out at any moment. And, damn it, has she always been this small?

He shrugs his coat off and swaddles it around her frame, trying to make sure every corner is tucked in against the icy wind, before he lifts her up.

Her head turns to find its way to the crook of his neck.

“Wow....H-h-how are you so warm? You made of f-f-fire?” She whispers, jaw still moving rapidly beyond her control.

“Yes.” Is as much as he reveals, for now.

He scoops her close in his arms, turning to go back to the clown house before spotting Vicky beyond some trees, possibly on her way to look for him.

Cursing inward, he turns and heads back towards the rocks near the beach.

“R-r-really not in the mood for a beach read r-right now, man.” Eleanor barely has the strength to stand in her giant coat burrito as Michael releases her near some boulders.

Michael snaps his fingers, summoning an igloo behind the giant rocks, out of easy line of sight for any potential scouting demons, though he knows not many venture this far out - usually making it the perfect spot for his and Eleanor’s after-school study groups (aka the Make Fun of Chidi and Forget To Study groups).

“Oh, n-nice! An ice house for me to f-f-freeze in some more!” Eleanor’s quickly numbing face makes it difficult for the sarcasm to translate on her face.

Michael rolls his eyes and nudges her to get inside.

Obviously, it’s no mere igloo. It’s more like one of those ‘glamping’ - as Tahani would say and then lose points for using - pods or tents, essentially a portable mini-apartment with a sofa, a TV, a stove and a lit fireplace that doesn’t melt the walls. Because magic.

“F-f-fork...I t-take it back,” Eleanor exclaims, swaying as she clutches the coat around her and glances at the surroundings which are, of course, bigger than the outside would allude to; “This is pretty swe...Sweet set...”

Michael sees her begin to fall to the floor despite being no where near the large sofa. He catches her and hurries her over to the fireplace, snapping his fingers to ignite some more flames.

“Better?” He asks, rubbing her arms, watching her aura and studying her vitals.

Probably not the best thing for a human to get hypothermia, even when already dead. Especially so. The ones being tortured in the snowy Bad Place neighbourhoods looked rather happy, though that was mainly because their mouths were frozen in permanent smiles, the ice forever smothering their screams.

Eleanor nods a little, before shuffling out of the coat.

“T-that things too wet...So is this...” She gestures to her skimpy blue bathing suit, struggling to move her numb fingers; “Dude...gimmie a hand?”

A hand? Wait.

She wants him to...? Oh. Right.

His throat suddenly goes dry, which is ridiculous as he shouldn’t ever need to hydrate. Michael nods, moving his fingers to fumble the knot on her back, allowing the bra to slide off of her after a couple of minutes.

He hears her chuckle; “Wow, even demon boys still struggles to get a human bra off, huh?”

Michael feels the blush on his cheek, not having expected that to be a skill he would need to learn.

He watches her keep her back to him, pushing her bottoms down to her ankles before kicking them aside on the warm, white ‘carpet’ he made up for the igloo, before she shuffles as close as she can to the fireplace. Sitting bare naked and not seeming to give a fork that he can see every inch of her.

Thank Upper Management the whole shivering and blue-tinted skin doesn’t make her the least bit attractive...Not that she ever was...Gross, dumb human.

“Lemmie guess...Vicky’s latest idea? Why didn’t you tell me, man? I thought we were a team.” She berates over her shoulder to him.

“Hey, I was going to tell you and the others at class. It’s not my fault you decided to ditch without giving me a heads up.” He tries to look away as the side of her breast is in view when she turns and this...Damn it, why does she have to be so carefree and public with her nudity?

She smirks; “What’s the matter, dude? First time you seen a hot human naked you weren’t covering with scorpions?”

“Please, as if I care if your skins are covered or not.” He rubs the back of his neck; “You should be thanking me! I decided to venture out into this weather to rescue you, of my own accord, with no external persuasions needed!”

“Chidi told you to find me, didn’t he.”

“Yes, he did. But I could’ve said no and I didn’t. So...” He shrugs; “Progress?” Is it? He’s still new at this.

Eleanor suddenly starts to laugh and Michael can’t help but smile. He takes it that he’s right then. He notices that her face is still rather off-color, her lips now a shade of lilac, even though her shivering isn’t as violent as it was when he found her.

His chest aches, just for a second, as he remembers hesitating to come out.

How he’d been excited at the idea of Eleanor suffering from this...Why wasn’t it enjoyable to see it happening before him?

“Uhm, Janet’s gonna be AWOL for a couple hours...But I could get something to warm you up? Humans like drinking warm liquified chocolate when it’s cold, right? Or I could fill one of those bags with dangerously scalding liquid?”

“How about you just bring that internal fire of yours over here, bud?” She curls a finger at him, her other still wrapped around her shoulder; “You can be my hot water bottle while we wait this out.”

He isn’t sure what she means about that until he goes to sit next to her and, suddenly, Eleanor is grabbing his arms and folding them around herself as if he were now the wrap to make up her human-flavoured burrito. Her hands grip his, tight, bringing them around to rest around her stomach.

Michael shifts, awkwardly. He’s still getting used to the whole ‘hugging’ thing, which was mostly something Eleanor did as her own torture to annoy him, also Jason sometimes not having much of a concept of a personal space. It’s a whole other set of issues he thinks to put his arms around her when she’s completely naked. She has no qualms about leaning back into him.

“Awww, yeah, that’s nice. Demons make for good bean-bag chairs.” She smirks as she snuggles into him.

He isn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted.

“Am I...helping then?” He asks, oddly nervous.

“Mmm hmm.” She hums, her heartrate steadying a little, as well as the pink returning to her lips.

The glow that fills Michael’s chest as he watches her smile in his arms, that sated buzz rushing through his stomach, is what he had expected to feel from seeing her be successfully tortured. Instead it had brought him some weird after-sad sensation that was new and frightening. And yet, helping her, making her better...That was the result that made him feel better?

Holy shirt....What was happening to him?

“You okay there, buddy?” Eleanor asks after a while, “You’ve got the look I used to have when someone told me they were bringing their toddlers out to lunch with me.”

He shakes his head; “S’fine....A-are you okay?” His hands shift around her middle, wanting to make sure she’s getting as much warmth as she can from him.

For some reason it matters a lot that she is. The softness of her skin beneath his fingertips is distracting him from working out what he’s heard in his ethics lessons so far that might explain this.

“Well, sat nude in an igloo, cuddling up to the demon who tortured me for three hundred years, isn’t quite the weirdest thing that’s happened to me in this place...but it’s also far from the worst.” She quips.

He feels as if he could melt now, that look she’s giving him making his essence fizz like a well-shaken soda bottle.

“Thanks for coming to get me...Eventually.” She says, moving a cold hand up to touch his cheek; “Damn, that touch would be good payback if you were human.”

“Sorry.” He smirks back; “I can’t help being a hot Architect, Eleanor.”

“And they call me full of myself!” She grins; “Whatever, we’re right and we should say it.”

That’s not what he meant but...Sure, he’ll take that.

“Actually...your face could do with helping mine warm up.” Eleanor’s thumb brushes against the corner of his mouth.

Michael frowns; “...Really? How?”

She smiles, a twinkle in her eyes; “Like this.”

She moves in close, before he can even comprehend her next action, pressing her lips against his and sucking, lightly, her tongue invading his mouth while her hand gently head his head in place. Michael freezes, to start, stunned in shock and confusion.

Do humans really do this just to...warm up? He wouldn’t be against the idea if that was the case, but...This is Eleanor Shellstrop in front of him, Arizona born and bred, almost ninety per cent of her actions were a pathway to sex.

Fork!

Michael pulled back, ignoring the softness of her lips, resisting the temptation to lose himself in...whatever that was.

“Ugh! Gross! Why do humans do that? Your food holes are for eating, you horny dinguses!” He makes a show of rubbing his lips on his hand.

Eleanor is laughing again; “Oh my god, you’d think I gave you cooties or something!”

“Is that a thing?! A human disease?! Do I need to disinfect myself?”

He starts to shuffle away but she reaches to grab his hand; “Relax, Mikey...It was just a bit of fun. Don’t worry, if you’re not into gross humans, I’ll be all good and pure and restrained...for one day.”

He gulps, feeling as though he should be relieved; “G-good. W-why would I ever want to...Again...I mean. Good. Thank you.”

Now he has to stop his eyes from looking at her again, now that she’s warmed up and dried, no longer shaking like a leaf and looking smaller than usual. She’s sat in the glow of the fireplace, giving him that smile she had every time she saw through him, saw who he was, always too impressed or pleased with herself to be angry at him.

Damn it, he should have left her to freeze.

You know you couldn’t do that. Not anymore.

She’s beaten you. Accept it.

“If you’re not gonna warm me up the fun way, the least you can do is snap us some hot chocolate.” Eleanor says, turning back to the fire and putting her palms up.

Michael sighs. Yes. That he can do, easy.

“And some dry comfy clothes....I wouldn’t wanna prolong your torture any longer.” She winks at him; “It’s only fair.”

#hellstrop #michael x eleanor #tgp fanfic #fluff #first kisses

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k-writer1998 · 4 years

Text

Voice of the Moon

Prompt fic: sound engineer! chan x animator! reader

fluff

w.c: 1.3k

A/N: Did I get a sudden burst of inspiration because of this specific photo of Chan when he went live yesterday? Yes 🥴

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

“Y/n please! You owe me for all the times I have to pick up your drunk ass at ungodly hours.”

“That was only a few times and you know it Changbin. I’m swamped at work, I don’t want to pick up a personal project on top of that. I don’t want to half ass anything.”

Talking about my few drunken nights, it reminds me of an incident a few months ago. It was raining, I was a mess both physically and mentally, and I cried my eyes out under a cafe awning as I waited for Changbin to come pick me up. While I was feeling the loneliest I’ve ever felt, I suddenly heard singing from an open window above.

At night when the stars light up my room,

I sit by myself

Talking to the moon

Tryin' to get to you

In hopes you're on the other side,

Talking to me too

Or am I a fool

Who sits alone, talking to the moon

Listening to the voice singing along and looking up at the moon, I didn’t feel so alone anymore. Even now that voice has stuck with me. It had me picking up the habit of looking up at the moon when my mind was a mess. It eases the loneliness knowing somewhere out there the owner of the voice is looking at the same moon. I never did find the owner of the voice though. Finding the cafe awning I stood under that night didn’t help either because it was a public studio on the second floor. The check-in log said no one was in the studio that day and with no more leads, I gave up.

“Hello? Are you listening?”

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry you were saying?”

“Just hear me out. There’ll be no time pressures since the album isn’t done yet. The other guys and I just want to give our fans something special with the new album as a thank you.”

“You do realize how much you’re asking from me right? To make a full animated music video, with a full team alone would probably take months.”

“Well that’s a full blown production, which I’m not asking of you, we only want something cute and heartfelt.”

“As if that makes anything better.”

“Then do it because you’re my best friend and you love me? Are you really gonna tell me no?”

“With you using that aegyo voice? I very much should… but you know I can’t turn down your stupid requests,” I sigh.

“Great I’ll text you later about when you can meet up with everyone and we can talk about it! You’re the best!”

“Yeah yeah. Gotta go, I have to finish this draft before knocking off.”

A few days later Changbin had me meet him and the other members of 3racha at a cafe. Funny I know, how are we best friends when I haven’t met his other best friends right? Well that was purely his choice, and somehow we just haven’t fatefully bumped into each other yet. The meeting went well thanks to the fact we bypassed the awkward stage by clowning Changbin. Changbin already had a general plot, Jisung excitedly showed me some of his character design ideas which I would gladly incorporate, and Chan built off of the other guys’ ideas while clarifying some of Jisung’s more wild ideas before I had to ask. Watching the dynamic unfold, it made sense how things worked even when they worked separately for the most part.

It’s been nearly a month since I started working with 3racha on their animated music video and most if not all of my free time has been devoted to that. We’ve spent a lot of time together either at someone’s house or at the studio, coincidentally the public studio of the mystery voice, so they could watch over my work and see it was going in the direction they envisioned. Chan was one of the studio’s sound engineers so he worked a deal with the boss to be able to use the studio when it wasn’t booked. Due to the late nights I pour in, because time becomes irrelevant when I get into my work, I’ve spent a lot more time with Chan compared to the others. To Changbin’s dismay as he claims this is the reason he kept me away from his friend’s although I think he just feels replaced, I may have a tiny crush on Chan… I fully blame him for these feelings. He was already good looking upon first glance, why does he have to be sweet, adorable, and thoughtful?

That’s not fair when you add on all those late night conversations we’ve had cause we happen to be in each other’s presence and the mood happened to be right and the thought just fell from my lips without thinking… as you can see this boy makes me a whole hot mess. Which leads me to tonight. Yet another night in the studio when it was just us two, the others had long called it a night and went home. We worked in silence, me with their anniversary song on repeat and him working on the new album. Feeling like I was hitting a wall with my work, I took a break to just look up at the moon and let my mind wander as the tension left my shoulders. In my relaxed state, I once again started one of those late night conversations subconsciously.

“Do you ever have that one thing that keeps you going? Like something that pushes you out of the shadows of your mind and back into the light?”

“Yeah… it’s my music because I get control of what I want to say and what the message behind it is. For you it’s the moon though isn’t it?”

“How’d you guess?”

“You’re always looking at it from the window when you get lost in your thoughts.”

“Have you been watching me Mr. Bang?” I teased lightly before getting wistful, “well it’s not the moon more so than the voice that it reminds me of whenever I look at it.”

“A voice?”

“Yeah it’s kinda silly but that voice gave the comfort I needed to keep going… I’m not making sense am I?”

“I mean not entirely but I get the gist of what you mean. So whose voice was it?”

“I’m not sure, as cliche as it sounds I was drunk on possibly one of the worst days of my life standing under an awning in the rain. I remember that I was feeling the most alone I’ve ever felt when suddenly I heard a voice singing and as I looked up at the moon it’s like it was reminding me that I’m not. It helps that the song was about the moon too,” I chuckle at the end.

“What song was it? Did you ever try to find the person?”

“It was Bruno Mars’ Talking to the Moon funnily enough and I mean… I would love to meet this person to thank them but I never found them. I’m guessing it's someone who’s rented this studio though cause I did find out the awning I was under is the one from the cafe downstairs.”

There was a pause long enough for it to pull my attention from the moon to the boy who seemed almost nervous as he kept his gaze on his twiddling fingers.

“Can I confess something?”

“Suddenly? That kinda sounds scary but sure,” I laugh.

“That was actually me… I saw you run under the awning and heard you crying over the rain and thought I could do something to cheer you up,” he explained as he shyly ruffled his curly locks.

I was shocked to say the least. The voice that has been stuck in my head for months was the same voice of the boy I’ve been listening to on repeat for weeks… how could I not have noticed? Everything I dreamed of telling him, the conversations I hoped to have with the owner of the voice had already happened and in that moment he was no longer a dream but the reality in front of me.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshots #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz oneshots #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshots #my writing #skz gc prompts

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junhyukiscute · 4 years

Text

to all the boys i’ve loved before (mcnd x reader)

100 followers special! thank you so much!

author note: thank you guys for 100+ followers!! i didn’t know how to express my gratitude so hopefully this ot5 mcnd x reader will help??? also this doesn’t fully follow the movie at all <333

my letters are my most secret possessions. i write them when i have a crush so intense, i don’t know what else to do. there are 5 total.

minjae, the star of my school’s football team and partner in english,

sungmin, the class clown who shows me magic tricks whenever i’m sad,

huijun, the shy nerd who helped me study for history when i was failing,

junhyuk, the artist who asked me to become a model for him,

and seongjun, but he’s my older sister’s boyfriend.

nobody knows about my crushes. no one except for me. until one fateful day.

“hey sis! you’re welcome,” your older brother, wooseok said.

“what do you mean?” you questioned while you ate your cereal.

“your letters, i sent them out,” he replied.

“WHAT?!” you slammed your hands on the table as you stood up, “wooseok, how did you even find those?!”

he grinned, “i was snooping through your closet to borrow some clothes and a box fell on me. i decided that since i’m such an amazing brother, i would send all those letters that were in the box to the guys you addressed. five guys, huh.”

“wooseok- those, those weren’t supposed to be sent out?! what’s wrong with you?” you cried out before grabbing your backpack to run to school. great, today was just not going to be your day, huh.

“good luck, lil sis,” wooseok cackled. you really were related to the devil. you prayed that you wouldn’t see any of the guys today.

your first period was pe, thank god. you shared the class with none of the boys. you were just walking around the track with your friend who was chattering very excitedly about this new rookie group’s comeback song called “spring”.

“hey (y/n), can i um, talk to you?” said a low voice. you widened your eyes as you turned around to see junhyuk in his tennis uniform. what was even worse was when you saw your mint green envelope in his right hand. oh great, you forgot that he was apart of the tennis team, who had practices during first period. your friend stopped talking and gasped as she pieced the situation together before wiggling her eyebrows at you and started to jog away. great. you were about to jog off with her but junhyuk grabbed your wrist before you could. “i read the letter last night and i was kinda shocked. did.. did you really mean it?” he asked with desperate eyes. his grip on your wrist tightened almost desperately as he grabbed your other free one with his, “please be honest with me and don’t give me any false hope.”

you gulped as your face turned red. “false hope..? junhyuk, i don’t understand..”

he sighed before looking at you again, “meet me at the tennis courts after school today. this isn’t finished,” he hesitantly let go of your wrists before waving to you with the letter in his hand, “see you later, (y/n).”

after the traumatic morning you had, it was second period. you walked slowly to class as it dawned upon you. great, you though, i have huijun in it. as you walked into the class, you avoided eye contact with everyone in class and waited for the teacher. the minutes felt like hours, but once your teacher came in, you let out the breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding in.

“okay class, take out the books in your desk and open to page 401,” your teacher yawned. you grabbed the book from the little space you had under your desk and a folded lined piece of paper fell out on your lap. “for (y/n)” it said in near handwriting. out of curiosity you opened it and it read with neat handwriting: hey (y/n), i received your letter. i didn’t know that you thought of me like that.. i feel the same. can we meet up at the top media cafe later to talk about this? love, huijun

“ahem, (y/n), is history that interesting?” the teacher crossed their arms. you got out of your shock from huijun’s small confession before shoving the paper in your backpack.

“uh- no, um i mean yes?” you meekly replied. the class laughed as the teacher shook their head before returning to the lesson. you snuck a glance at huijun who was writing diligently before looking up and waving slightly at you. you sighed before pulling out a pencil and paper.

it was passing period now and you were walking to your locker when you saw seongjun leaning against it while holding a brown paper envelope. nope, not today, you thought before turning the other way.

he caught sight of you before yelling, “(y/n), wait! i need to talk you!” you widened your eyes before running off to your next period: english. not a lot of people were there yet so you just sat at your desk and huffed. this day seemed to weird to be true. you buried your head in your arms. you weren’t even halfway done with the day yet you were ambushed by more than half of the boys already. deep in your thoughts, you jumped when you heard the chair next to you screech. minjae, you thought. you panicked because, well, he was going to be next to you this whole period. you pretended to snore so you wouldn’t have to talk to him until the teacher came. a few moments later you felt a jacket drape over you. the warmth it had was too inviting and then you actually fell asleep.

the bell had rung, signaling for fourth period. “(y/n), wake up, you’ll be late for your next period,” minjae gently shook you. you lifted your head up drowsily and saw a few books standing up to prevent you from being seen by the teacher. oh, he took cover for you so that you could survive the whole period napping.

“hmmm...?” you rubbed your eyes to get a better look at minjae smiling softly at you.

“hurry up, (y/n), you slept through the entire third period. i covered for you because you seemed really tired. i’ll walk you to fourth period.” without thinking much, you grabbed your backpack and nodded.

“thanks for covering me, minjae,” you yawned as you guys walked to your next class.

“yeah, no problem. i wanted to ask you about something though,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “so i got a letter earlier? did my smile actually brighten up your week?”

you inwardly cringed at the memory of writing such a sappy love letter to him, “haha, what letter?? it couldn’t possibly be the- oh” you stopped as minjae held up a pink envelope with a cherry pattern on it. you blinked a few times in disbelief as he carried it with him this entire time.

“this letter. i can’t believe that you’d write something like this, it’s kinda cute. i always knew you were a good writer,” he grinned as he waved the letter around.

“don’t just wave it around like that, give me it!” you said as you tried taking it away. it was unsuccessful as he lifted the letter up and away from you. he put it in his pocket.

“you’re not even gonna let me finish what i was saying?” he smirked. you guys reached your classroom and as you were about to walk in, minjae hugged you from the back and whispered in your ear, “come to the football game tonight, i’ll save you a front row seat,” before letting you go. your eyes widened at the sudden affection before looking around. great, now you see the minjae fangirls glaring at you. you shuddered at the ice cold tension that was in the classroom before making your way to your seat.

it was only until the bell had rung when sungmin had ran into class. “safe!” he yelled out with a salute as you heard a teacher yell “detention!”. the classroom was filled with light giggles at his energy. you made eye contact with him and his smile slightly faltered before smiling again at his friends. ouch, you thought. you rolled your eyes before pulling out the materials for this class.

once fourth period was over, it was lunch. you sighed in relief to finally be able to eat your problems away. as you exited out of the classroom, a hand grabbed your shoulder. you let out a small shriek before whipping your head to see sungmin, with a small grin on his face.

“can we talk?”

you nervously laughed, “look, if this is about the letter, you can just forget about it.”

“well.. what if i don’t want to forget about it? (y/n), these are your feelings. you can’t just hide them forever or throw them away like it’s nothing,” he said, his grin never faltering. wow, where did the happy jokester go? you rarely ever see him being so serious, so this was probably really important to him.

you cracked a small smile, “listen, sungmin. those feelings were hidden for a long time, it could’ve been forever if you never had been given the letter. i appreciate the words but i... really need to go now, i’ll see you,” you said as you walked away.

“check your blazer’s pocket!” he yelled from across the hallway. you stopped and looked back, but sungmin was already gone from your sight. you found a paper sticking out of your pocket. that silly boy, he probably put it in when you weren’t looking. when you took it out, you saw a ticket to the school’s dance showcase after school at 5 pm with a post-it note saying “i hope to see you there <3 i’ll perform a song just for you”. you shook your head before putting it in your binder.

once you entered the cafeteria, you got your lunch tray and walked outside to sit under one of the school’s trees. once you plopped down onto the cool grass, you sighed and leaned against the tree’s bark. you cursed wooseok for sending the letters and cursed at your horrible luck when you saw seongjun walking towards you.

you were too tired to leave the relaxing shade so you just sighed as he stood in front of you.

“(y/n)...” he started.

“before you say anything, that letter was a mistake. i know it was wrong to write a letter to my sister’s boyfriend. i don’t like you anymore,” you said a bit too quickly.

he crouched down to your level before letting out a smile small, “i broke up with your sister after i read your letter.”

your eyes widened and you sat straight up, “you did WHAT?!” you shrieked, “h-how could you?! my sister really loved you! oh my god, seongjun! what the hell..?”

he ruffled your hair like he would always do when he visited you, “i know you wrote more letters. your older brother told me.” oh my god, you felt like such a horrible person. the guilt you had for liking him, the fact that you had probably ruined all these friendships you had, it all weighed down on you and you found yourself crying.

“i’m sorry.. i never meant for any of this to happen.. if only i didn’t write those letters..” you choked out.

he shook his head before gently pulling you towards him so that you could cry in his chest, “it’s okay, (nickname), you can’t control who you like. it’s none of your fault for liking someone, or should i say some people?” he joked. you punched his stomach lightly as he laughed out loud.

“not funny, seongjun,” you mumbled, “you know, i don’t know why i had liked you in the beginning.”

“well, for starters,” he said as he pulled out the letter from his pocket, “you said that i had a personality that was just so warm and inviting and-” you punched him one more time, a bit harder, as you sniffled, “okay, okay, i get it. who were the other people you wrote to? i think i’m the only one who knew of multiple being sent out, so you’re good.”

“.... minjaesungminhuijunandjunhyuk,” you mumbled.

for some reason, seongjun caught all of that and widened his eyes, “really?”

you sniffed and nodded, “yeah but can we go back to why you broke up with my sister so suddenly...”

he sighed, “man, you’ve always been really persistent, haven’t you?” he thinks for a bit but the lunch bell rings and cuts him off once he opened his mouth to speak.

“you’re kidding me!” you cried.

he stands up and gives you a hand to take. once you take it and grab your backpack, he ruffles your hair one last time, “if you want to hear the rest, then wait for me after school. i’ll walk you home and explain all of it, okay? see you (y/n).” the next actions shocks you as he mumbles “don’t hate me for this” and he kisses the top of your forehead before walking off. you blushed at the sudden contact before shaking your head and walking back into the school building.

fifth period had gone by quickly, and the last period was a self study period. you doodled on your notebook as you pondered over your choices. huijun had always helped you out whenever you needed help or was called out by the evil teacher. junhyuk was the shy boy who asked you to model for him because he found you pretty, and had gotten closer to you during the process. minjae was like a childhood friend you’ve known forever because you guys had always gotten along and always had each others backs. bic was like a breath of fresh air; he’d always cheer you up whenever you had a bad test score, there was never dull moments with him. lastly, there was seongjun, your older sister’s boyfriend, who had always treated you so well and listened to your problems while never criticizing you for your mistakes.

you never imagined this happening to you, let alone, even have your feelings being reciprocated. you giggled a bit, you sounded like some main character in a wattpad fanfiction. you tapped back into reality as you thought about it. if you choose one, you would ditch the four others who would be patiently waiting for your answers. actions really do have consequences, you thought bitterly. your stomach dropped as you heard the last bell ring.

who do you choose to go to?

song minjae

bang junhyuk

#mcnd #mcnd imagines #mcnd fluff #mcnd scenarios #thank you so much #also sorry this took so long luhmao #did you guys expect this #wanted to do this beause there were 5 guys in the movie HA #bang junhyuk #win #minjae #song minjae #huijun #no huijun #nam sungmin #bic #castle j #son seongjun #uwuwuwu you guys<333

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years

Text

“illusion” chapter 6

Link to the full work on Ao3

Warning: mention/use of alcohol and one particularly bad drug :((

Things aren't looking good. Only two days after my "date" with Lawrence, he sends me a letter, which is way sooner than he usually does. Shit! He must really be determined to marry me, now... I fold up the letter after I finish reading it at breakfast and shove it in my cloak out of sight. This could get tricky... I assumed his interest would slowly dwindle over time, leading to an amicable break up, but instead he seems to have had a sudden spike in interest. He's going to get more pushy... so I might have to end things myself.

The problem is, if I was the one to break it off, the fury of the Royal Family would come down on me and my parents. My father's inheritance and title depend on this marriage, so that fury could potentially ruin us. However, if I were to achieve the rank of Senior Magic Knight before that happened, then we would be safe with my salary. I'm pretty close now, I just have to keep working hard... it won't be long! Then I can tell Lawrence to leave me alone forever.

"Okay, there's plenty of work to do today! But-" Hervey points at us as we stand awkwardly around him in the mess hall. He has a couple missions for us, mostly just patrols and escorts typical of a highly-ranked squad like ourselves. "Everyone should be done by tonight, so if you want to go to town, all power to you."

A few of us cheer, excited for the fun night ahead. I'm not a big drinker, but it's still fun to go out with my friends and see them all get shit-faced. The townspeople love seeing us there, too, to hear our stories and take our money. Wren is probably going to try and hook up with some girls, and sadly will probably be successful. Those girls love a magic knight, that's for sure.

"...and... that's it for the main missions." Hervey finishes handing them out, leaving me and a few others without an assignment. "As for you junior knights, your performances have NOT been up to par lately. How are we going to beat the Crimson Lion Kings for the top squad if we have weak links like you?" The four junior knights mumble sorry and stare at the ground timidly. "Well, luckily for you, Julius is free today, so he'll be training you himself." Julius, who's standing right behind Hervey, gives us a smile and a wave.

"Really?" Cecilia's eyes light up while Martin and the other teen, Joren, both roll their eyes.

"I don't understand why I have to do this-" Nigel crosses his arms. "I'm 20! I shouldn't be slumming it with these kids-"

"Shut up, Nigel, you're still a Junior Magic Knight for a reason-" Hervey cuts him off.

"Er, but what about me?" I raise my hand awkwardly. "I'm an intermediate knight-"

"You're here to help me! I thought it would be fun." Julius answers before Hervey can, flashing me a smile of my own.

"Oh... okay!" I feel my heart flutter a little. He chose me? That's nice... It hasn't gone over my head, the fact that Julius has been choosing me to accompany him with things recently. I assume it just means that my efforts to befriend him are slowly but surely paying off. Maybe I can take advantage of this; after all, Julius has the ear of our captain, so my ascent to a higher rank could be easier than I thought. But even if not, I'm glad he's hanging around me more. If nothing else, I feel... safe, when he's around. There's been no suspicious activity from any of the others since the night of my attack, and I'm finally starting to relax.

Maybe everything will be alright, after all.

"Well, you heard the captain! I don't blame you guys, you're all young and new- er, most of you-" Julius shoots a subtle glance at Nigel after we move outside and he launches into his spiel. "But that just means you have plenty of room to grow! I haven't even seen some of your magic... so!" Julius suddenly balls up his hands excitedly and opens his eyes, which are violently sparkling. "Show me your magic!"

It's almost disturbing, seeing our vice captain get all twinkle-eyed about something, but that's how he's always been. I can even remember the first time I ever met him, several years ago, he ran up to me and asked the same thing. He was a little shorter and had longer hair, but still the same Julius. "Hey! Nice to meet you! Show me your magic!" It was pretty startling, to say the least, but he got more tempered over time as he took on more responsibility. But even now, he can't contain his excitement as Martin holds up his hand, shooting sharp shards of wood off into the bushes.

It's... kind of cute, honestly...

"Hey! Why don't you make some illusions for them to fight?"

I almost jump in surprise as Julius suddenly appears right next to me to jar me from my thoughts. "Huh? Oh, right-" I'm supposed to be helping him, not admiring him! I quickly open my Grimoire and conjure up four illusions for the junior knights to fight. "Hey! Can you give me one that's a little harder than the others?" Nigel asks, pointing at his.

"Sorry, I have to make them identical, especially since I'm making so many!"

"I'll spar with you, if you want!" Julius suggests.

Nigel goes pale and can't shake his head quick enough. "Never mind."

He raises his hands, letting a large bank of wispy smoke come out and engulf the "enemy" I made for him, which binds it in place. Of course, I could probably just move right through him, seeing as the only place the enemy actually exists is in his mind, but I'm doing my best to simulate a real person right now. "Smoke Magic: Tendril Binding!" Nigel smirks to himself as his spell seems to work.

"I'll break you out!" Cecilia suddenly opens her own Grimoire. "Refraction Magic!"

Cecilia's magic lets her create refraction planes in the air, which can redirect light, magic, and other materials. She uses it now to create a barrier around my illusion, sending Nigel's smoke away, right back at him. "Hey! Ah!" Nigel stumbles back, not expecting the move, and suddenly becomes engulfed in his own magic. Cecilia bursts out laughing at him. "That's why you're still a junior knight, Nigel, you need to expect the unexpected."

"Shut up! You're a junior knight, too!" Nigel desperately coughs and waves his arms to dispel the smoke.

Cecilia bites her lip, the shy girl becoming a bit more confident from her performance. "I'm 15, so I have an excuse. You don't!"

"Come on, guys, be nice!" I can't help but swallow my own chuckle. Cecilia... This is the most I've heard you talk since you got here! The girl used to be Alice's roommate, so I hung around her a lot, but she was always so quiet and reserved. I know her magic is powerful, so all she needs is the spine to back it up. I was kind of like that, wasn't I? I felt kind of out of place on the squad, it was such a new and scary experience... but I grew into it, not just because I have to. Because of all the people I met...

These people are my friends, right? And these kids, who's biggest problems are who's doing the dishes tonight and how to not embarrass yourself on the next mission. I have my quarrels with some of them, but in the end there's not an ounce of malice between any of us.

... maybe it was a bandit that night. Maybe I panicked and imagined something that didn't exist...

But, I don't think any of these people would hurt me.

"That was great! I knew you would make a good teacher."

It takes me a moment to realize that Julius is talking to me again as we walk back towards the base. The Junior knights shuffle along in front of us, chatting and clowning on Nigel. "Oh, really?" I don't know why, but the comment makes me feel a little embarrassed, probably because it's coming from my vice captain. "Thank you... I'm not as good as you, though!"

"Hmm, I'm not so sure." Julius closes one eye in what I assume is a cheeky wink. "I wasn't really doing much, I let you take over."

"Is that so?" For some reason, my nervousness quickly fades. "Maybe I should be vice captain, then."

"Perhaps."

"Are you sure you want to go out tonight?"

"Of course!" I brush my hair a few more times in the mirror before turning around to look at the concerned Alice. "You'll be with me the whole time... and anyway..." I let myself smile a little, sinking into the soft feelings of ease that I've had inside me since my revelation earlier today. "What happened a few weeks ago... I doubt it's going to happen again."

Alice smiles along with me, but that worried look doesn't leave her golden eyes. "...It's true, there's been no suspicious activity at all... but didn't you say your attacker was wearing a Grey Deer robe?"

I shrug. "I said that... but now that I think of it, it's so unlikely... I may have mistaken something else for the robe. Like I said..." I give her a bright smile and a thumbs up to put her at ease as well. "These are my squad members... my friends. They would never hurt me, right? It might have just been a bandit or something."

My words seem to do the trick, and Alice smiles as she lets out a happy sigh. "Sheesh, so all that paranoia was for nothing? What a drama queen." She pokes me in the side playfully to make me giggle. "If you say so. We'll have to report it to the captain sometime, though, if a bandit made it in here!"

"Right, right!" I bat away her hand, before both of us get startled by a loud banging on the door. "HEY!! HURRY UP!"

"...shut up, Nigel!"

Nigel and Elia are waiting outside, Nigel tapping his foot loudly to show his already-obvious impatience. "Where's Giles?!"

"Right here!" We turn to see the bespectacled boy run up, looking kind of bedraggled. "I can't believe you're dragging me out tonight..."

"Then don't come!" Alice shoots back with a grin. "We'll take Cecilia instead."

"The 15 year old? No way." Elia turns up her nose. "Anyway, she said she wants to stay home and sleep early."

"Ah, fine. Well!" Alice balls up her fist to get us pumped up. "Let's go out on the town!"

"Yeah!!!"

It's already dark by the time we get there, travelling in our little pack. "Hmm, decisions decisions..." Nigel rubs his chin while looking around the street, then glares as I start to walk off on my own. "Hey, where are you going?"

"Here." I point at my favorite inn, the same one I took Lawrence to on our last date. "I'm going to this one, it's fine if you don't come, though."

"Sounds good!" Alice runs past with Giles and Elia right behind. "Grr! Fine!" Nigel runs after us, indignant that he didn't get to make the choice.

The inn is just as warm and loud as all the other times I've been here, although it becomes considerably more crowded at night. "Why, if it isn't the young Grey Deer... you chose our little bar tonight?"

"It's the best one in town, of course!"

The bartender eyes each of our faces, letting out a sigh of... relief? "Well, I see it's just you five... in that case-"

"Heyyyy there, barkeep!"

The bartender's smile immediately falls from his face, and his brow furrows. "Great... he's here..."

He? The five of us turn just in time to see none other than Julius marching into the inn, a goofy smile on his face. "Good evening!" His friend Elger shuffles in behind him, looking embarrassed.

"Julius... what do you want?" The bartender eyes him suspiciously as he walks up and leans against the bar comically. I exchange a glance with the others, slapping my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Elia stares pointedly at the surface of the bar, also looking like she's going to burst out laughing. "You better not be asking to-"

"Please, sir! I promise I won't ask for money! Not even tips! I just want to show off, I've been practicing my mixology skills-" Julius lets the words burst out as he clasps his hands in a mock prayer, literally begging this poor man to let him help.

The bartender just lets out a long groan before pointing towards the door. "no! You're too slow, Julius, try another bar!"

Julius pouts adorably and opens his mouth to object, but Elger cuts him off and tugs at his sleeve. "Come on, we can try one of the others..."

"Fine." Julius shoots one more indignant look at the bartender before turning to leave. However, he stops and does a double take when his gaze skims over us, his eyes widening a little with recognition. His mouth immediately splits into a wide smile, and I almost look away from how bright it is. Ahh! He noticed us- "Hey guys! Fancy seeing the youths here~"

"You're not that much older than us..." Nigel mutters quietly so he can't hear him, but both Alice and Elia giggle at his behavior.

"We're gonna go find another inn... maybe I can make you a drink?" Julius's eyes meet mine, the corners crinkling slightly from his smile. I feel my heart skip a beat.

"Er... I think we're going to stay here." I return his smile, giving him a thumbs up. "This is my favorite spot... Maybe some other time, Julius!"

Julius lets out a sigh, letting his shoulders slump momentarily before bringing him back to his full height. "Alright, have it your way! See you guys later!" With one last wave (and an awkward one from Elger), the two older men disappear out the door and back into the chilly night.

I shake my head a little at his behavior, but my smile remains traced into my lips. Mixology? I didn't know that was a hobby of his... that's kind of cu-

"So, what was that about?"

I get snapped from my thoughts as both Alice and Elia descend on me from both sides. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Elia eyes me with narrowed lashes. "He asked you to come try his drink, didn't he?"

"Oh, he was asking everyone, though, not just me-"

"Nonsense! When he said you he didn't mean you guys... he meant you, you know?" I blink, confused at what Alice is trying to imply. My friend smirks and slings her arm around my shoulders, making me shrink slightly into my barstool. "You've been hanging around with him a lot lately, haven't you?"

"Alice!" I scold, squirming a bit in her grasp. "You know what that is, don't you?"

"I want to know what exactly is going on," Elia juts in, crossing her eyes and glaring. Uh oh. She's going through her "crush on Julius" phase right now, a phase that all squad members must go through at some point, and I'm sure I've accidentally made her jealous. "Like, aren't you engaged? It's not fair to him if you lead him on, you know!"

"Lead him on? No-" I shake my head. "You guys have it all wrong... it's not like that!" I laugh nervously in an attempt to dissolve the tension. "It's just... I've known Julius for years now, but we weren't close. I just thought it would be nice to make friends with him, that's all." I exchange a glance with Alice, who nods slowly. Of course, the real reason is that Julius was one of the only people I could truly trust, and being friends with him put me at ease. Not that it matters anymore. "I guess he thought the same thing... so now we're friends?"

"Hmph. Friends." Elia looks away. "First friends, then lovers, then you'll get married- EEEEk!" She covers her flushed face.

"Elia, calm down, I'm engaged to the Prince, remember?" I pat her on the shoulder lightly, and miraculously, my words seem to make her calm down. "Don't worry about it..."

Jeez... this is going to look bad when I break things off with Lawrence...

"I don't get what's so great about him anyway," Nigel suddenly jumps into our conversation uninvited. "I mean, he's cool and powerful... and handsome... BUT!" He starts to go red in the face. "I'm right here! And I'm a catch~"

Elia snorts out a laugh, and I giggle a little at his behavior. Sometimes he seems like he might have a crush on Elia, but that would be way too volatile of a couple for the squad to handle, as evidenced by her next words:

"Nigel... I'd rather catch the Flu than catch you."

"EH???"

"You guys talk to loud, here, start drinking and shut up!" The bartender suddenly appears next to us and unloads the drinks we ordered in front of us. "Oooh! Thank you, sir!"

"No problem. First round is on the house."

"Well, cheers guys," Giles smiles pensively and holds up his glass. "I don't really know what to celebrate..."

"We don't have to celebrate anything! Unless you want to go out with me, Elia-"

"No, Nigel."

"Fine!"

"Cheers!" Alice makes us all shut up as we clink our glasses together. I bring mine to my lips and gulp down the drink. Giles immediately splutters and slams his glass down. "Yuck!"

I wince and swallow thickly. "Yeah, is it supposed to be this bitter?"

"It's not bitter! It's spicy." Giles coughs, causing Nigel to laugh meanly at him. "Grow up Giles, we know you're a lightweight, but spicy?!"

"Nigel, you're one to talk," Elia teases. "This stuff is cinnamon whiskey, so it might taste a bit spicy."

"Hmmm..." I take another sip, forcing it down. It tastes a bit spicy, yeah, but more bitter than anything. In fact, it's almost salty.

"Well, whoever can finish theirs first gets their drink payed for!" Nigel announces with a grin. "Come on!"

I can't turn down that kind of competition. "Bring it!" Without any more hesitation, me and the others gulp down our drinks. With an excited yell, I slam my empty glass down on the table first, just before Alice does. "Yes!!! Eat that-" I suddenly feel my stomach turn, and I almost gag.

"Yikes, you okay?" Alice rubs my back as I choke down the drink. "You won, don't worry."

"Thanks, but I'm fine." I shake my head. "It just... tasted really bad."

Alice frowns, a little concerned. "Be careful, I don't want you throwing up on me or anything. Here, have some water."

"Who's the lightweight now?" Nigel snickers, earning him two smacks from Giles and Elia.

I sip at my water for a while, staring at the glazed wood of the bar as the others continue to drink and chat. For some reason, the warmth from the previous moments is completely gone, and I start to feel oddly... detached from it all.

...why am I even here?

I feel coolness on my lips as I sip my water.

...wait... what's going on...?

I can't be out like this... not in the open.

"I need some help."

"What is it, Wren?"

Someone is talking, but the words blend into the ambient sound of the inn.

"It's Margery... she's puking all over the place outside."

"Ugh, fine. Come on, everyone."

Someone... someone's trying to kill me, right?

But, not one of my friends... they can't be-

I look up, and my friends are gone.

...huh?

Everything seems fuzzy, and I almost fall out of the chair as the vertigo affect hits me, just from raising my head. I draw in a shaky gasp, barely audible, and stare at the empty seat where Alice was just sitting. At least, I think she was just sitting there... how many hours have gone by since I last saw her? Time is expanding and constricting at a rapid rate, almost like an accordion.

...what the hell... am I-

I look back down at my hands, which are clutching my glass tightly. I can't even make them out, they don't look like two solid objects. They warp and spin, just like the rest of the world.

H-how did I manage to get drunk?! Where is everyone? I frantically start to look around the bar, but all I see are the faces of strangers, looking at me as if I've gone crazy. And maybe I have... because a moment later, they morph into the faces of my friends.

...no... I'm not drunk...

The one drink I had... it was bitter... salty... it was drugged!

It's something I've always heard of happening to girls, but now that it's happening to me, it seems more real. My heart is running a race in my chest as I suddenly stand up, causing the world to turn upside down again. Someone is yelling at me (I think I tipped over the barstool), but I don't stop, I can't. I feel someone grab my arm, and my panic spikes. NO! If they grab me like this- I instinctively lash out and push them away, and luckily they yield. I can move... I can still move... I need to find the others!

NO...

Not the others...

One of them drugged me, didn't they?

For what purpose, I can only imagine, but now I'm imagining the worst case scenario. I need to run, and hide, until this wears off!

With that thought, I turn and run away, stumbling but staying upright. The warm light of the inn disappears, giving way to a chilly, cold night. It's not snowing, but the harsh wind nearly bowls me over. I open my mouth to yell Alice, but the words get caught in my throat. I keep walking, the lights in the corner of my vision starting to dull. I don't have long... I'm going to pass out...

There's not a friendly face in sight.

I... I need to..

The wind subsides, and I realize that I've stumbled into an alley. With one last little whimper, I collapse to the ground, curling up into the fetal position as everything starts to fade away. If this isn't enough... then I'm dead. Or worse.

Please... let the right person find me...

My eyelids droop, and my body goes numb.

Alice... or...

I don't get to finish my thought as my brain basically turns to mush.

I don't know how long I lie there, but eventually, the cold starts to disappear. Feeling starts to seep back into my skin, and something warm envelopes me.

Maybe... this is death? It doesn't feel so bad...

I curl up into it, and a comforting sleep overtakes my soul.

Yeah so I have a vague idea of where I want to go with this but there's a lot of empty space in my mind. If you have any suggestions for scenes/moments/or just vibes, let me know in the comments!

Also I want to know if I'm doing well with this? I honestly don't know...

#grey deer fic #fic #illusion #julius novachrono #julius novachrono x reader #black clover

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