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sawixii · 2 months

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i do one more. for myself

content: super macho man, mr. sandman, bear hugger, great tiger, don flamenco, aran ryan

super macho man the world's most ambiguous bisexual. he is aware what a big part of his fanbase is gay people esp those who find him hot as fuck and he loves them. he's so jennifer coolidge thanking all the evil gays when he was named #1 at the title in the world

he enjoys whenever anyone tries to "secretly" or flat out ask him what his sexuality is because he takes the time to make fun of them. "i heard you perform for the many gay men in your audience-" "i do." (refusing to break eye contact until they move on)

he also loves going as rocky from the titular horror picture show for halloween. or anytime he already dresses like him on a regular basis

he has serious face blindness and due to this he unintentionally got himself into a situationship with disco kid (one sided. disco doesn't care what they are) and has multiple* girlfriends from spain

(* it's one woman and you'll never guess who. she's hitting him with the fujiko mine maneuvers)

they really ramped up the comparisons between mr sandman and mike tyson in wii but since he was his own character way before that, i'd like to believe sandman knows nothing abt him outside of cultural osmosis. he just wanted a cool alternative haircut that wouldn't expose just how emo he really is

he's the youngest of three kids. oldest is santino middle is shireen and sandy's real name is samar. yes god patterns

(btw what made me hc samar is bc in sanskrit it can mean success after hard work. that's him i know him)

he only goes to his sister for his haircuts because she's a booked and busy hairstylist and that's pretty much all thanks to sandy. growing up she took issue with how black hair was such an afterthought in hair styling so every chance she got she sat sandy down and tested her designs on him (and if it looked good she applied the same methods to her own hair)

the rest of his family tree is a little convoluted though. his parents divorced when he was nine, and shortly after his brother santino emancipated himself and then won the lottery at 16?? so at that point sandy and shireen were dividing their time between three homes

his sister was kind of the only person who was a constant source of stability after that. like don't get him wrong his parents absolutely adored them but their dad put a lottt of emphasis on putting in hard work to become the greatest while their mom lives by the rules of self care and knowing your limits. spending time with their parents took a lot out of them and they would have gone insane without each other

unfortunately sandy didn't come out of being raised like that. unscathed. he heavily compartmentalizes his own emotions into the "boxing him" (feels no emotion, strong, unbeatable) and the "other him" (everything else, i.e. weak). that need to be the best is why his weakness is exhausting himself

yeah sandman's the best. at first he enjoyed the performance of it all, and especially how proud he was making his family. he's still an expert on making the media work for him but for the first time in his life he's starting to get more out of what he does for himself

sandman and joe are real close nowadays. it's interesting to understand basically your polar opposite so deeply and all that but joe brings out sandman's genuine laugh like no one else

(who framed roger rabbit moment. "what do you see in that guy anyway" "he makes me laugh.")

every time bear hugger tastes something good in a restaurant he shouts out "THIS is de-LICIOUS! whoever made this should be VERY PROUD! (pointing at the waiter) THANK YOU FOR BRINGING ME THIS" and tips a small fortune

yes he did do this multiple times at a high dining restaurant and was solemnly asked to leave. he was laughing about it though bc all the snooty foodies hated it. the chef sent him an invitation for two seats in a private dinner because he was so charming. bear brought along hondo because "you know about food eh"

great tiger was pretty shy and antisocial as a bab especially due to his parent's fame. (his mom was an actor n his dad of course is a magician) to help him get over that his mom often brought him on set to her acting gigs and his dad let him watch his shows offstage. he learned that everyone would awww and be more friendly if he acted a little shy first

he had a system. come in holding mom/dad's hand. mom/dad introduces me and tell me to say hi. i act like i'm about to speak UNTIL i hide my face behind mom/dad's leg. everyone smiles. shout hello and smile big. everyone now loves me

actually his first movie role was with his mum at three years old. it was nearly 3 am and he was sound asleep waiting to go home. there was only one more scene to film; a flashback where the main actor came home to see his wife (played by mumma tiger) tucking their child into bed. in order to wrap filming, tiger's mom suggested using great tiger since he was sound asleep already. he semi woke up in bed being kissed on the forehead, and assuming he was back home, mumbled "baba" and hugged the actor. that went into the final movie

he was the world's cutest kid and his parents smothered him in love. they're still very close although mumma tiger is always prepared with embarassing baby pictures and purposefully ruining his untouchable facade

the first time great tiger used magic he had no idea it was impossible. tiger got into a tiff with his father and he got so mad when he was told to get in the corner he stomped up the kitchen wall and nestled himself in the ceiling corner glaring. his dad was so shocked that he just went silent

(and then great tiger nearly passed out from magical exertion and his dad had to dive across the room to catch him)

tiger is very much a professional. no one has ever been in the same room with him before he was 100% ready and flawless either for public outings or for the ring

you know how i mentioned smm's spanish girlfriend. well

don doesn't really encourage carmen's "money making schemes" but he loves her anyway. i mean god forbid women do anything

he did show up undercover in a really big hat and sunglasses to try and tell carmen to ease up but macho said i'm gonna do what's called a pro bisexual move

now don is involved in the smm polycule. he tried not to be because he felt bad that super macho man didn't recognize him but he will not lie he enjoys having lunch with smm once carmen goes back home. plus he enjoys fighting over who pays the bill

he calls his disguise self juan ricardo. and juan can sit on a 200 pound weight and be benchpressed if he wants to

aran ryan watches every movie. doesn't matter what it is who it's intended for or how many times he's watched it he is in that theater. he does shout at it though so for everyone's safety his home cinema gets the most milage

his favorite genre is science fiction. mostly because a good number of them are reeeeeal bad but also because he wrote copious amounts of space exploration stories as a kid

he has reaaaaaaaally strong emotions about the movies he likes and even the ones he really hates. if someone gets the reason why it's good or bad wrong (in his head) he would like to hit them with a hammer

he made a knockoff of calvin and hobbes's "spaceman spiff" for his middle school newspaper called Geordie v. The Galaxy where the first man in space keeps accidentally insulting every alien and getting chased off the planet but he can't stop traveling because Earth banished him for being annoying. there were absolutely no reasons why the character had that backstory. (/lie)

his sister calls him irn bru. she is the only one who can because otherwise he will grip you by the shoulder and explain to you calmly but unmistakably threateningly how you really ought to reevaluate your mindset on the people of ireland because either you are ignorant or actively choosing to be an ignorant asshole in order to make stale jokes.

unless you are irish then he just snorts and claps you on the back

#good night tri state area #punch out #punch out headcanons #super macho man #mr. sandman #bear hugger #great tiger #don flamenco #aran ryan #see you in the movies

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tinylint · 2 years

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BTS Reactions - RM was your original bias

---------------------------------Masterlist----------------------------------

Jin - "Joonie!? Is it because his English is so good? I will work on my English every day!" For the next few weeks every time you get into a discussion with RM, Jin slides into the conversation and puts his arm around you making threatening eyes at Namjoon. He never explains why and Namjoon is very confused until you sigh and tell him he was your original bias. "But she's mine now! So you just keep your sexy English to yourself!"

Suga - "Oh wait until I tell him!" for the next three months every time you are with both of them he looks at what RM is wearing, looks at you and says "should I buy that for myself?" You finally reached a breaking point when, after seeing a picture of RM from Soowoozoo 2021 he looked at you and said "yellow mullet for my next haircut yes?" and you absolutely smothered him with pillows.

JHope - "Oh I see you have a thing for leaders huh? First the public leader, then the dance leader..." he says as he slides his arm around you. "Impressed by power are you?" he raises his eyebrows a couple of times at you.

RM - "Really!?" He is honestly surprised, he thought it would have been Jungkook. He struts around for the rest of the evening and keeps referring to himself as "your bias" and then winks at you.

Jimin - "Oh just wait until next time I see him, should I fight him for your affection?" he shuffles around and pretends to shadow box with an imaginary RM. He pretends to get knocked out by the imaginary RM, looks up at you and says "it looks like he won, I guess you're Namjoon's now. Nothing we can do." Then he grabs you around the knees and pulls you to the floor with him.

V - "That's just because you didn't know all of his most embarassing qualities." He then spends 20 minutes telling you embarassing stories about Namjoon and ends all of them with "and that's why he isn't your bias." You both laugh until you nearly can't breathe with each story.

JK - "Same" And then you talk about RM's dreamiest qualities for the next 20 minutes.

---------------------------------Masterlist----------------------------------

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writemywaytoyourheart · 3 years

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Aim For The Heart | Chapter 1: At First Sight

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama

WC: 4.5k

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol consumption, language, stalking kind of? I think that's all lol. Pls let me know if there is anything else I should put.

tag list; @teresaisla @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @yukiehyukie

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn't sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn't his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

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A bright smile graces your features as you tuck the little star-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into a tiny container, just barely getting two of them to fit as you squish them down a tad bit in order to get the lid clipped on.

Then you grab a little tangerine and a cheese stick to drop into your lunch bag along with the sandwiches, counting the number of items aloud to yourself as they make themselves at home and then you zip it all up.

"Th-There we go!" You lift your lunch for the day in triumph.

Your phone startles you when it starts to ring, then you grapple in your purse to find it. You pull it out and answer right before the last ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, girl! Are you ready to go? I'm downstairs." The voice of your best friend comes through the phone and you look at the clock on your microwave. You stare at the little black screen, confused as to why the time isn't showing up before remembering that you were never able to figure out how to display the clock when you bought the microwave three years ago. So, you hold your phone out to look at the time.

6:32

"Oh geez! I didn't r-realize the time. I'll be d-down in a minute, k?" You say, earning a lighthearted laugh from the girl on the other end.

"Take your time, hun. I'm not in any rush."

You thank her quickly and hang up, then you run to your room to grab your favorite pink cardigan and throw it on over your white shirt. As you're hurrying out and grabbing your lunch, you stumble and knock your knee into an open lower cabinet that you had forgotten to close the previous night after pulling a pan from it to make dinner.

"Ouch!" You hiss in pain and rub the sore spot, although it does nothing to ease the ache. Then you grab your purse and run outside, almost forgetting to lock the door. But you remember just in time and clumsily lock it before rushing down the stairs leading to the parking lot of your apartment complex.

Your best friend, Mina, is laughing. You can see her through the windshield as she waves to you. Lifting a hand to wave back, you don't realize in time that your arms are full. You drop your lunchbox and have to crouch to get it again, only taking up even more of your time.

But Mina finds it hilarious and tells you so as soon as you slide into the car and fumble with your seatbelt to get it buckled.

"Honestly, ___. I can't believe you're still single. If I wasn't straight as a board, I'd be head over heels for you and all your shenanigans." She states in a matter-of-fact tone as she pulls out of the parking spot.

A blush creeps up your neck and you try to laugh it off, "D-Don't be silly." You whisper, turning your gaze outside to look at the fluffy white clouds decorating the sky beautifully. You smile and lean your forehead against the glass as you imagine lying on a soft cloud, just drifting in the air.

"If you c-could go anywhere at all, where would y-you go?" You ask Mina suddenly, turning to her. Her eyes are focused on the road but she bites her lip in thought at your question. "Mm, probably Italy. What about you?" She's used to your sudden questions and ramblings, so she smiles when you start to go off.

"I'd wanna go up in the c-clouds. I wanna sit on one and maybe even see a r-rainbow up close! I wonder if I could slide down the rainbow..." Your brows furrow in deep thought. "Or would I f-fall?" You turn to her again and she glances over to see your signature puppy dog eyes that you use when you are either confused, upset, or want something.

Mina turns back to the road, a tiny ache in her heart that she hides with a bright smile, "Girl, you would ride that rainbow straight down into a pot of gold!"

"Really?" Your eyes widen and you feel your heart lift at the image.

She nods and you giggle happily, "You can come w-with me, Mina." You say confidently, your gaze turning back to the sky. "We can sleep in the clouds and slide down rainbows for the rest of f-forever."

"Sounds like a deal."

By the time Mina pulls up to the school, you've discussed everything you'd do up in the clouds and what you'd eat when you're hungry (stardust, you've decided, is the best meal anyone could eat.)

You unbuckle and gather your things. Then you remember something and turn back to Mina, "Oh yeah. W-When are you leaving on your business trip?" You ask a tinge of sadness in your voice.

"This weekend," Mina says solemnly. "I'm sorry I won't be able to drive you for a while. I'll be gone for a month this time."

That makes your heart sting but you manage a small smile, "D-Don't worry about me. I can walk! I'm gonna m-miss you though."

"I'll miss you too, buttercup. We'll hang out this Friday night before I leave the next day. How about that?" Mina asks kindly.

You nod enthusiastically and she smiles, "Ok, get your butt in there before you're late! The bell rings in half an hour and you can't be late on a Monday." She urges you and you nod, hopping out of the car and thanking her again for the ride, reassuring her that you'll walk home from work today.

You blow her a kiss and she laughs as you turn and hurry into the school.

You're all set up only a few minutes before the kids are supposed to arrive, so you go onto Pinterest and look through your fairytale boards, feeling a little spark of joy in your chest.

A couple of minutes later, the kids start streaming through the door, greeting you with the same amount of enthusiasm as you greet them. Your kiddos love you so much that all the other teachers are jealous and they let you know it every day. Of course, you have the sweetest kindergarteners and they're always the best for you.

"Hello, Teacher! Good morning Miss ___! Teacher, look at my new haircut!"

"Hi, Jina! Hello M-Minhhyuk! Kun, your new haircut l-looks so good!" All the kids have bright smiles on their faces by the time they've settled in their seats.

You always start the day off by getting everyone to stand and do a few stretches, then you sing the nursery rhymes you learned yesterday and start learning a new one. You honestly have as much fun as the kids during the school day.

"Ok, l-little ducklings, have a seat!" You get their attention and they immediately oblige. Next, is the alphabet that you guys have been working on since the beginning of the year. Every little one sings it perfectly all the way through and you give them a round of applause and they each get a little punch in their reward cards.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly, with only one temper tantrum thrown and that was resolved quickly.

It's nearing the end of the school day and the kids are all playing during their free time. You're sitting with Ae-Cha, a small and fairly quiet girl, playing with colorful blocks; the both of you competing to see who can build the highest tower. You've learned that she responds well to playing games when there isn't too much talking involved.

You're constantly glancing around the room to make sure everyone is safe and playing nicely and you're always pleased. They've all improved so much since the beginning of school back in September. It's June now and they've all learned their alphabet and how to play nicely with their new friends, along with so many other things. They've really made you so proud this year. You can even hear them reciting the alphabet and nursery rhymes to each other as they play.

Your heart warms at the sound of tiny voices filling the room as they sing. Then you glance at the clock and realize the bell will be ringing in a few minutes. So, you declare Ae-Cha the winner with her foot-high tower of blocks and she beams proudly. Then, you get up and clap three times, "One, two, th-three! Eyes on me!" You singsong, then smile when the kids immediately respond by clapping twice and shouting "One, two! Eyes on you!"

"G-Great attention today, everyone! Alright, the bell will ring soon. Who can tell me w-what that means? What are we doing n-now?" A few little hands go up and you point to the little boy that raised his first, "Yes, Joon Woo?"

"We...Uhm...time to clean up toys...Uhm..." You smile to encourage him and he finishes cutely, "Time uh, to clean up our toys and pack bags."

"Yes! Thank you, Joon Woo. It is t-time for us to clean up and make sure our bags are packed up and ready for h-home!"

The kids start to pick up their toys as you put on the cleaning song that you play every day for them. You all sing along until the room is all tidied and their bags are packed with their homework papers.

You always give them little mazes to do for homework to get their little brains to learn to concentrate, along with instructions on what to draw to show the class the next day. Today, their homework is an extremely easy maze, a coloring page with the alphabet and instructions to draw themselves doing their favorite activity. The kids always love drawing pictures and sharing them with the class and it's a good ice breaker for the shy ones at the beginning of the day.

You always have less and easier homework for the kids on Mondays and Fridays, it just seems fair to you that way. You also feel like it's good for kids to express themselves and be able to share what they like and dislike. You've found drawing helps with communication and creativity for the kids in your class.

The sound of the bell ringing makes a few of you jump, then you hurry to the door. "Alright, ducklings! T-Time to line up!" A few of the kids make quacking sounds as they line up, giggling and talking to their friends.

You smile and open up the door, holding it as the kids walk out in a straight line, some of them still quacking like little ducks.

You lead the kids to the front of the school and make sure they get into the correct line for the bus if they take it. You wave goodbye to them as the kids that take the bus climb on and they run to a window to wave back to you.

The rest of the kids that are left are soon picked up by their parents or siblings. You wave to Ae-Cha, the last student to be picked up. She smiles shyly and waves back before hurrying after her big sister.

After that, you go back to your classroom and finish a few things before packing up to go home. As you're leaving your classroom, you run into one of the other teachers coming from his own room.

"Oh, h-hello Mr. B-Baek!" You bow, missing the ugly sneer on his face as you smile brightly at him. He pushes his glasses further up his nose as he scrutinizes you with his beady little eyes. "You don't belong here, Miss ___." He snaps.

You look at him in confusion, "I-I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"I've waited the entire school year to say this to you. But now that we are nearing the end, I think you should know that you have no business being a teacher at this school. You ought to make the right decision to discontinue your work here." Mr. Baek watches your face fall with a sick sense of satisfaction.

"B-But, why?" You ask, still not understanding.

"First of all, you're inexperienced. You just got out of college last year, am I right?"

You nod uncertainly.

"You're still a child. Why should a twenty-two-year-old girl come marching in here and take a spot that should have been given to someone with more experience? And especially someone like you." He glares at you before turning on his heel and walking away briskly.

Someone like me? What does he mean by that?

You watch after him, feeling a tiny pinch in your chest. You aren't sure what he means, but whatever he's talking about, it sounds like he believes you shouldn't have become a teacher at all. At this school or another. You'll have to ask Mina later because you really have no idea where his rant came from.

Is there something wrong with you becoming a teacher?

You shake your head and laugh it off, "He's probably just had a bad day." You tell yourself as you make your way out of the school.

As you walk home, you sing quietly along with the song in your headphones, a little skip to your step.

You never notice the dark figure across the street, his eyes trained on your every move.

One day earlier...

Jungkook groans as he tosses and turns in bed, searching for his phone to turn the alarm off. He finally finds it and hits dismiss, tossing the phone back down and rubbing his eyes with a tired yawn.

After another minute he sits up and looks out the window, frowning at the sun seeping in and pooling across his floor in a golden river. He stares at a small bird that lands on his windowsill until it flies away.

Jungkook yawns again and reaches up to rub his eyes for the second time. After a few minutes, he's finally able to drag himself out of bed and into the shower. He almost falls asleep again in there, but he manages to make it out after half an hour.

With a towel wrapped around his waist, he makes his way to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of soju that's sitting on his tiny dining table to take a small swig from, finishing off what he'd left last night after his third bottle right before he passed out in bed.

He sighs and grabs a bagel, searching for the cream cheese he swears he saw in his fridge last night. A small smile appears on his lips when he finds it. He snatches it and makes sloppy work of spreading it on his bagel before tossing the leftover trash onto his counter and plopping onto the couch, snarfing down the first half of his bagel in thirty seconds.

Jungkook sighs through his nose as he tiredly chews his breakfast, then he glances down and sees the file he'd left open on his coffee table last night. He swallows the bite he has in his mouth and leans forward to read over it.

Y/L/N Y/N...

Why is that name so familiar?

He shakes his head and flips the file closed, then he leans back on the couch, wanting to spend his Sunday relaxing before he has to get to work on this case. He isn't going to think about it again until tonight.

Jungkook settles down and lays his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

He won't think about it.

Jungkook lays there for a minute, then he opens his eyes and lifts his head, glaring at the closed file on the little table.

He grunts in annoyance and drops the other half of his bagel onto the table, grabbing the file angrily and sitting back again. He opens it and starts to reread everything he's read many times since Friday. There's just something that has felt off since he met with Mr. Ling, but he can't put his finger on what it is.

Jungkook squints at the name he's read a thousand times.

Y/L/N...Y/N...

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes, frustrated at not being able to remember where he's heard that name before. Then he looks at the occupation.

Teacher at Sunshine Kindergarten.

His brows furrow again, much like they have each time he's read this. He's never had a hit on a teacher before, let alone a Kindergarten teacher. That's such an odd target...

Most of his targets in the past have been sleazy business owners, rapists, leaders of gangs that have terrorized neighborhoods for years, even other hitmen. He's never had a problem with those jobs, but there's something about this one that's telling him to be careful.

Maybe it's because he knows nothing about his client, except for the large sum of money he must have due to the pay he's been promised. Other clients of his were more than happy to explain why they wanted him to do what he does. They never paid him until after the job was done, either.

That leads Jungkook to believe that this guy (or girl) is desperate for his services, convincing him to do it with payment before and after. Almost as if Jungkook would refuse after he found out who the target was...

Jungkook flips the page and scrutinizes the picture of the target.

She's very simple looking, Jungkook thinks. The girl in the picture is wearing a white flowy skirt with a blue blouse that covers her whole arms and white chunky tennis shoes. Her hair is in a low ponytail and it seems like she has headphones in as she walks down the street. There's a tiny smile on her face as if she's thinking about something that makes her happy.

Jungkook doesn't find her particularly beautiful, but she isn't ugly either. She's just very...

Simple...

Jungkook shakes his head, his eyes going over the photo and the girl's smile one more time. Maybe she's a double agent? Or a part of the mafia disguising herself as a school teacher?

He can't figure it out.

It doesn't matter much though, the job seems simple enough and the pay is more than he's ever gotten. After looking through everything once more, Jungkook closes the file and grabs his bagel, quickly eating it before getting up to get dressed for the day.

That night, Jungkook lays out his outfit for the next day.

It's all black, but not suspicious-looking. After all these years, he's been able to design the perfect outfits to avoid attention being drawn to him and simple enough so that no one would think much of him if he were to catch anyone's attention.

It might seem simple, but he prides himself on being able to get each part of his job perfectly designed for each case he gets.

Heaven knows it's taken him years to accomplish.

After he's gotten that all figured out, he walks over to his closet and pulls out a small safe. Setting it on the bed, he swiftly unlocks it and looks inside. He pulls out a few things, examining each of them before he sets them one by one onto his bed. Once he's got the items all laid out, he steps back to look it all over.

"I should wait to decide..." Jungkook mumbles to himself. After a minute of staring at everything, he nods and gathers it all up, carefully putting it back into the safe and locking it tightly. Then he brings it back to his closet and shoves it into the darkest corner where it lives.

That can wait.

He pulls his phone out and checks the time.

11:45

"Damn it," Jungkook mutters. He had wanted to get some sleep earlier tonight since he would have to be awake early tomorrow.

He changes into some shorts, then he yanks his shirt off and immediately climbs into bed, not even bothering to shower or brush his teeth. He really couldn't care less with how tired he is. And he hasn't even started yet.

His alarm blares at an ungodly hour as Jungkook groans loudly, resisting the temptation to chuck his phone across the room.

"I hate Mondays." He mutters angrily, setting his phone back on the nightstand far from gracefully.

He miserably drags himself out of bed and into the shower, going through his morning motions almost like a robot. His brain isn't fully awake and it's just on autopilot right now.

An hour later, he's just finishing his coffee, his eyes no longer squinting in exhaustion. Jungkook unceremoniously drops his coffee cup into the sink, promising himself he'll clean it up later, then he sighs as he grabs his black boots, walking to the couch to sit and pull them on. After he's done lacing them up, he grabs the file he's been avoiding like the plague since yesterday morning.

He mutters to himself, looking at the name on the page.

"I know that name."

Then he smacks his forehead to get himself to focus again. He stands up and folds the page with the girl's information and then her picture and tucks them into the inside pocket of his black jacket.

Time to get to work.

Jungkook spots the girl almost instantly, the second she steps out of a black car. He glances at the driver, but can only see a person with shoulder length black hair waving. The girl from the picture has a bunch of things in her arms as she blows a kiss to the short-haired driver.

Jungkook has been here since six-thirty in the morning and just as he was beginning to think she called in sick for work, he's finally gotten a chance to see this girl in person. She looks exactly as he remembers from her picture...plain.

She's even wearing the same white skirt and chunky tennis shoes, although this time she has a different top. Her hair is in a high ponytail this time.

"Well, ___. Nice to meet you." Jungkook mutters, watching closely.

After a moment, the black car drives away as the girl scurries into the school, tripping on the last step before straightening herself out again, then disappearing from his sight.

Huh.

Jungkook stares at the door for another minute, then he makes his way to the stores nearby, knowing he's gonna have to wait until the girl leaves. School for the young kids typically gets out at around three-thirty. So, he'll have to be back here around then.

He's definitely going to need to find something to do to kill time.

Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief when he hears the school bell finally ring.

He hurries from the clothes store he was browsing and down the street a block until he's almost across the street from the school. He finds a good spot where he can sift through some newspapers at a little stand and still have an eye on the school.

After a minute, he sees a long line of tiny children coming out from the school. The girl is with them and smiling brightly. Jungkook thinks he can hear some of the kids quacking like ducks. He tries not to look puzzled as he goes back to talking to the person working the paper stand. Jungkook makes small talk with the old man, still keeping an eye on the girl across the street as she waves to each child that leaves.

If she's some mafia boss disguised as a kindergarten teacher, she's one hell of a good actress.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" The old man inquires curiously.

Jungkook laughs softly and shakes his head, "No. I've been so busy with my work I never got the chance to date."

The man nods knowingly. They chat a bit more and Jungkook finds himself trying to balance talking to the man and watching the girl.

"Well, did you want to buy a paper for the day?"

Jungkook turns his gaze back to the old man and nods, "Yes. Two, please. My neighbor would probably enjoy one as well."

The old man laughs and nods, taking the money Jungkook hands him and giving him two papers, "What a kind young man you are. Someday you'll find a lovely young lady, don't you worry, son. You will realize that work is important, but love is even more so."

Jungkook just laughs and thanks the man, then he opens the paper as he slowly starts walking, pretending to read.

He stops at a bench and sits down to wait. The girl went back into the school a few minutes ago, hopefully, she won't be in there long.

Luck seems to be with him today, because, after only about five minutes, Jungkook sees a familiar white skirt flowing as she skips down the steps of the school.

He folds his paper carefully, tucking it into his back pocket. The girl puts little earbuds in and immediately starts to mouth the words of whatever song she's listening to. Jungkook tugs his black baseball cap down a little more as he follows on the other side of the street.

The girl has a bag decorated with cupcakes and cookies that bounces up and down as she dances a little.

What is she, twelve?

Jungkook watches in confusion as the girl stops to pet a dog, giggling when the puppy licks her hand. She straightens up, then after another minute, she seems to get distracted by something else.

Jungkook looks carefully and notices she's picked up a flower that was laying on the ground, seemingly trampled on. She gently holds it in her hands as she continues on her way. It goes on like this for the next fifteen minutes, the girl waving to people and smiling almost the whole way.

By the time she is walking up the steps to her apartment, Jungkook is dying to just get back home. That must have been the longest most annoying walk he's ever taken while tracking someone. The girl had stopped over twenty times, distracted by something else each time, he's sure of it.

Just to be sure, Jungkook lingers around the apartment building a little longer, but when it seems apparent that the girl is going to be staying there, he finally heads home.

Geez, Jungkook thinks in annoyance as he climbs the stairs that lead to his own apartment. His head is spinning with so many questions while he unlocks his door and yanks his boots off with a groan.

But when he plops down onto his bed in his tiny studio apartment, he just stares at the ceiling, his mind suddenly blank apart from one question.

Who in the hell would put a hit on this girl?

a/n: I hope you guys are liking the setup so far, thank you for all the positive reactions from the prologue!

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babyboy-cody · 3 years

Note

Hi I’ve recently stumbled across your new Dolan twin stuff and the way you write is amazing!! Are your requests open? If so can you do something w gray where he’s all soft and needy and cuddly and she needs to get school work done so she just sits in between his legs doing work and he plays w her hair etc etc.??

thank you!! and yes, requests are always open! ^.^

Finals week was possibly the hardest and most stressful thing you’ve ever done in your entire life on Earth. Studying for midterms during your junior year of high school, applying for colleges, applying for jobs, studying for your driver’s test - all of that was a piece of cake. You checked it off as though it was a grocery list, moving on to the next thing in order to finish your day. But finals week for your final year of college was a mix of Adderall, panic attacks, no sleep, and bitten nails and nail beds. You’ve never experienced such stress, and it worried not only you, but Grayson as well. You rarely ate, barely showered - he even had to buy you blue-light glasses because you complained about your vision being blurry and getting intense migraines.

He deeply and terribly missed you. He understands how difficult finals can be, and he supports you till the end. But what you’ve been doing is unhealthy. You don’t have a steady schedule to separate your academic life from your personal life, and it’s been causing lots of issues. You’ve been unintentionally snapping at Grayson, especially over the littlest things. For example, Grayson was incredibly sweet enough to clean up your desk area. He stacked your books in chronological order, neatened up your notes, wiped away dust that caused his allergies to spike. Accidentally, he misplaced your glasses. And you had a fit and nervously paced back and forth while biting your already bitten nails.

“Baby…” he softly spoke. “They’re over here.” And he had pointed to your side of the bed where he had put them. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, and you had broken down to tears, to which Grayson quickly pull you into his arms and hushed you quietly while giving you kisses. He understood and he never once held that against you.

Today, you had finished one of three finals. You had one thesis paper you had to research for and a chart project for your liberal arts class. So far so good, you mentally told yourself. Your laptop was open to numerous tabs as you had your books open in front of you. Highlighters, pens, and pencils were spread around the bed. Your back ached and you repetitively cracked and stretched your muscles. You desperately needed a massage, specifically from Grayson because he is the king of back massages. Just thinking about his large, warm hands kneading into your skin while whispered praise in your ears had you sighing softly and closing your eyes.

“What’re you thinking about?” You heard Grayson’s voice as he enters the room, holding a plate of vegan sausages, cauliflower nuggets, roasted potatoes that are seasoned so well that you can smell it from your spot on the bed. He holds a glass of cold green tea in the other and motions for you to scoot over. “You gotta eat, babe.”

Your mouth instantly waters as you take the plate and thanks him with a tired smile and a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Grayson observes you silently as you dig into the delicious vegan dinner he cooked. The small moan you let out as you continue eating. He almost wanted to do a happy wiggle because you were eating without telling him “one more minute” or “i’ll eat later.”

“I missed you,” he quietly told you, pushing you hair away from your face as it gets to close to your chewing mouth. He tucks it behind your ear with his thumb. He strokes the back of your head, smiling you when you nudge your head back further against his hand. “When you’re done eating, we’re gonna set a healthy schedule together, okay? And then you spend time with me for a little bit.”

You sigh quietly and hand him your empty plate. “Gray, baby, I’d love to… but I have so much work to do and have zero time to relax for even two minutes,” you told him in a quiet apologetic tone.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he quickly reassured you when he saw the panic in your eyes. He gave your cheek a few small kisses and put your plate and cup on the table. “I just… missed you, ya know.”

“And I missed you more.” You felt him sit behind you, legs on either side of your crossed arms. His arms wrapped around your stomach, immediately pulling you into his hard chest hidden underneath his Dolan Twins merch sweatshirt. “Gray..”

He whined deep in your shoulder as his arms tightened when you tried to move away. You stifled a laugh by biting your lip and looking up at the ceiling. He always got so needy when you didn’t give him enough attention. If you two are in the same room and sitting too far from each other, he’ll send you a text and look at you over the top of his phone, feeling giddy when you roll your eyes jokingly and get up from your seat to go to him.

“Just a few minutes,” his voice muffled behind your shoulder. You laughed at his childish antics and brought your laptop closer to you. Grayson was happy that you didn’t shrug him off. You allowed him to do as he pleased while you finished your small project. “So pretty..”

“Thank you, baby,” you laughed quietly when he pulled your hair behind your shoulders to braid it. You remember him telling you a while ago that he learned how to braid from Cameron. He was always a curious kid growing up and wanted to learn something new everyday.

Grayson hummed in content as he finished the braid and tied it with the small hair tie he kept around his wrist for his own hair, which is getting a bit long, but he knows you’ll throw a huge fit if he gets a haircut. He wrapped his arms back around you and laid his head against your back, eyes shutting and body slouching. The weight of him got more and more heavy, slowly pushing you forward. You tried sneaking a look over your shoulder, pausing your typing for a second. The movement made Grayson let out a sluggish hum.

“Baby, come lay down on my lap,” you told him, stacking up the books you didn’t need and putting your writing utensils into your case.

Grayson lets out a small “yay!” and quickly moves down next to your lap. When he lays his head down, he gives your thigh a kiss and wiggles his shoulders. You shake your head down at him and use one hand to slowly type while the other makes its way into his thick hair. The slow clicks of your keyboard mixed with the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp and playing with his hair has him lulling to sleep. When you hear small snores, you look down and felt your heart melt. You quietly grabbed your phone and took a picture, his cheek smushed against your thigh and his lips parted.

When you posted it to Instagram, the caption was:

thank you for always supporting me and making sure i’m mentally here. i don’t know what i’d do without you. 💜 @/graysondolan

#this was really soft #im soft #grayson’s soft #we’re all soft #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan #this one is for bubba because she deserves soft grayson 🥺#grayson dolan fluff

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thatrandomartistjaviarts · 2 years

Text

I’ve had designs for these three on the mind for so long that I finally put it on paper. Headcanons under the read more

So we got the toddler ones first which is basically before they were given their gifts. Julieta doesn’t really look that different from what we saw in the photo. I made Julieta and Bruno look really similar cause I always had the hc that Bruno looked a lot like Mirabel when he was younger. I think that people thought the triplets were identical until they saw Pepa because of how similar Juli and Bruno looked. I think Pepa would’ve been let to grow long hair cause it’s not odd for an indigenous child to want to keep their hair long. But if we ignore that(cause the family is Catholic in canon) I would think Pepa was really fussy when it came to cutting her hair so Alma just let her keep her long hair. Ultimately she wants her children to be happy and if having long hair makes Pepa happy then so be it. The reason why Bruno has a ruana is because he would constantly steal Pepa’s cause it felt nice just swooshing it around so Alma asked if she gave him one would he stop stealing his sister’s. He said yes and he would wear it all the time. For the portraits and why they look different is cause I think Bruno gave himself a last minute haircut. Out of curiosity. It just happens. Alma saw this and freaked out and tried to make it look better. And they were complaining about not wearing what they wanted with Pepa wanting to wear a dress cause it looked prettier on her than it did Bruno and Bruno wanting the whole squad of not only ruana but shirt and pants cause the dress felt too uncomfortable on him. Not for any other reason obviously. So Alma thought, with these turn of events, that it would be best to meet their demands.

Then we get to kid versions of them. Julieta is kinda the same she just has an apron now. Now we got to the phase almost every trans person had: the overly masculine phase for Pepa and the overly femenine phase for Bruno! Hooray! Pepa still has her long hair(cause it helps keep the skies clear) but overall is trying to act more masculine. The only thing that changed on the outfit was the little designs being there. If you see on her shirt collar, there are clouds. I probably should’ve made them grey so you can see them better but with the fact that Alma constantly tells her to keep the skies clear, I don’t think she would put grey clouds. And then we get Bruno. He still looks identical to Julieta but is trying to overcompensate like Pepa with femininity instead of masculinity. I think Bruno especially cause we know he used to be the star of Family Madrigal before so he maybe thought that wanting to be a guy would disappoint his mother’s perfect image. Honestly making Pepa’s outfit wasn’t hard cause I based it off of Camilo and Bruno’s which are just put the symbols horizontally(?) on the ruana but since the girls all have a variety of different dress styles it was kinda hard for Bruno. By the end I based it off of Dolores’. I don’t think they look this mad/sad all the time, I actually think while Pepa’s dysphoria was more noticeable to her, Bruno’s dysphoria probably manifested in total apathy towards the way he looks(definitely not projecting over here). But yeah idk I feel the need to clarify that.

And now we get to preteens! The eggs finally crack! Julieta is looking more like how she looked in the actual movie. And Pepa is wearing something more reminiscent to what she wore in the pictures of her 5 year old self and I think her and Alma would improve on it the more and more older she gets. And Bruno has been reunited with his ruana once more. Real sad when they separated for a couple years, I couldn’t handle it. I think the coming out was wild cause Pepa and Bruno just switch genders and Alma goes to take a moment in her room cause she thinks this is out of nowhere. But once she prays on it a little bit, she realizes that this should not be a surprise to her looking back. I also think this would be the last time Bruno cuts his hair cause 1. His hair isn’t growing back as fast cause of stress and 2. Indigenous beliefs of wanting the spirit of his dad to be able to recognize him. Cause none of you guys will take away reconnecting with his Indigenous roots Bruno.

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kyojurouwu · 3 years

Text

han seojun model headcanons.

listen to never be like you by flume.

˗ˋˏ author’s note ˎˊ˗

here i am again. it’s headcanon + scenario without any set pronouns. imagine han seojun as a worldwide known model who loves making you (aka his assistant) lose your mind by being a handful. maybe just maybe he wants your attention on him 24/7 because that’s where he thrives.

the problem with han seojun does not lie in his work ethics. he is a professional. he goes along with the requests and gives his feedback. he is professional with designers and photographers. he knows how to handle himself in meetings. but anything beyond that…

at this point, you might as well be his glorified nanny. making sure he gets up on time, eats 3 meals a day and doesn’t start mischief with his friends.

after 2 years of working for him, you got the hang of it. sometimes it’s kinda scary how many steps ahead you are. before he even asks for something you shove it in his hand and continue on your way.

also if you need to step up your game, you got the perfect blackmail opportunity - his sweet mom and his sister. both for different reasons. seojun is model son, sweet and kind and protective - he will do anything to keep it that way. with his sister it’s different, he just really doesn’t want her to get her hands on anything embarrassing because she would sell it to tabloids without hesitation if he messed up.

when you started you were fresh out of college, completely unprepared to deal with any of this. seojun didn’t make it any easier, he was kind of feeling you out. testing if you are taking this seriously or just want to further your own agenda. he can’t trust easily.

soon he realizes that you simply enjoy fashion and working as an assistant for a model is as close as you could get. and you are scarily devoted to it. you almost got hit by a car when you ran back with his coffee for which he gave you an impossible time limit. (and you weren’t going to lose goddamnit, you were about to show him!)

he never felt this bad in his life. you could’ve gotten seriously injured! he stopped giving you these tasks and instead opts for going with you. (that gets you tons of stares but seojun just shrugs and smiles “can’t blame them for looking, right?” cue your eye-roll)

he has no sense of personal space and is kind of everywhere? his presence fills the room to the point that it gets suffocating. people literally swoon as he walks by.

you never want to let him into your office because he walks around and checks out everything. he picks things up and never places them back right.

every day when you tell him about his schedule he stares super intently but doesn’t actually listen. he is sort of checking your outfit, is that necklace new? did you get a haircut? he does the same thing when you work and he is free. he sits in the same room as you and stares, basking in your presence like a happy cat. (it does get unnerving and you try to shoo him away but he gives you a lazy smirk, head propped on his fist “I’m having fun here though.”)

sometimes when you need to fly around the world for his photoshoots or other model gigs he gets cold and that mellows him out a bit. it’s easy to spot for you when he gets sick. he doesn’t tease as much but keeps close to you. and god forbid if you reach to touch his cheeks and forehead and hold his face for a bit. he was so jetlagged once that he actually closed his eyes and nuzzled closer. (needless to say, just the memory makes his face flush and he screamed into his pillow afterwards)

because you have to spend so much time together even when he is sick, it’s inevitable for you to not get sick as well and he goes into full-on mother hen mode. “take a day off today, drink this and take these so your fever goes down. call me if it gets worse.” if he has time he drops you home himself because he knows you would just go by bus and suffer. and if he doesn’t have time, he makes the time. he comes to the meeting with some prestigious brand 30 minutes later and just says “sorry it was an emergency.” doesn’t elaborate at all. (you get really confused when you look through his schedule later and see he did NOT have time)

when taking breaks between photo shoots he always sits next to you and dozes off. head on your shoulder even if it’s super uncomfortable for his tall frame. make-up stylists gush over you two constantly, they notice how his eyes follow your movements in the mirror when you are checking if you have enough time and making appointments while he gets make-up done.

i know it’s cliche, but the other model can’t make it, we need a plan. look at that. the assistant could work, you got the chemistry. let’s gooo. you could not be more out of your element even if you tried. seojun tries to take your mind off things, jokes around with you, but nothing works because he’s SO CLOSE. his annoyingly perfect face is right THERE. maybe, just maybe you let it slip. “i think i’m gonna have a heart attack.” and he could not look more smug afterwards. you’re ready to run for it, but he holds your hand and puts it on his chest. “me too.” and flash. the picture is taken and everyone is ecstatic.

seojun emails you the pictures with a “it suited you. wear it again, just for me?” and you are like.. what?? there is a box on your desk with the outfit from the photoshoot and a note asking you out for a date.

it all sounds super smooth and swoon-worthy but seojun is losing his mind over it. checking his phone every three seconds, making a track in his super expensive persian carpet from walking back and forth for an hour.

fistbumps the air when he gets a yes and does a little victory dance. but right after starts agonizing over what to wear. it’s a never-ending cycle with him.

#grown up seojun is a lil more chic but still the softest boy inside #true beauty #true beauty kdrama #true beauty tvn #true beauty webtoon #true beauty han seojun #true beauty seojun #han seojun #hwang inyeop #true beauty writings #moon writes to the stars #true beauty reader insert #han seojun x reader #han seojoon #true beauty headcanon

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diegos-butt · 3 years

Text

Electricity chapter 4

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (Curvy OFC)

Warnings: mention of murder, a bit of fighting

Wordcount: 3.9k

A/N: don’t do anything reckless y’all. Let me know what you think of this chapter. 😘

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

•••

Somehow the universe was on my side for once. Once I got home, I noticed I had a new text message. I was surprised to see that it was from Walter. He asked if I got home safe. What a gentleman.

I figured he just wanted to make sure I got home safe, I didn’t think too much of it. If anything, I didn’t think we would end up texting each other for three days in a row. Did I wish that would happen? Yes. Did I actually believe it could happen? Definitely no. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe it.

“Have you been texting with him again last night?” Gia asked when she saw me yawn and stretch my arms out above me. We were having a slow morning at work, and this was the third time she showed up at my desk.

“Maybe,” I smirked. Even though it started a little awkward, we were still texting. After I had texted him back that I got home safe, and he send a thumbs up emoji, it was silent for a moment. I had thought about what I could possibly text him next. I grabbed my phone to compose a text when a new message already popped up.

Walter: Still sure you want to live here?

A smile had formed on my face. He thinks he is funny huh. I was wondering what I could text back, and I thought to myself: what would I tell my friends to text back in a situation like this? Normally, I would never listen to my own flirting advice, but at that moment, I did.

Melody: Might stick around. Heard the detectives in town are quite something.

Since then, we had been texting constantly. Alright, maybe not constantly, we were both busy during the day, but we spend a good amount of the late evening texting. We got to know each other a little better. I told him about my family, and I shared a few awkward stories. For example, I told him about the time I was too stubborn to put on sunscreen during the summer, and I got sunburned to bad, I would never forget to apply it ever again. I still apply it every day, even in the winter.

In return he told me all about the shenanigans he pulled as a kid, and that he had a kid himself, Faye. At first, I was a little bit surprised, but then I figured we would have a babysitter once we would get children. Mel, get it together. You are not even dating him, you don’t even know if he likes you and you are already thinking about having children with him?! Our kids would look damn cute though..

“Earth to Mel! Stop daydreaming for once, and get some work done.” Carmen laughed and threw a pen at me, which I skilfully dodged, but it did wake me up from my little daydream.

“There is nothing to do! No development in the murder case and that’s all I am covering right now,” I said and spun around in my chair. “I am so bored right now, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Text your man, see if he has any new information?” Gia suggested.

“Hmm, he avoided talking about the case. Maybe they are having trouble getting a match with the murderer on that dating app.” I had told them about what happened the other day at the police station. I might have a hearing problem now because they had screamed so loud, I’m convinced the entire building heard them. It’s safe to say, they were very excited and convinced he liked me.

“Besides, he’s not my man!” I said while throwing the pen I picked up back at Carmen. “I mean, I wish, but he is so out of my league.”

“No one is out of your league, and I swear he’s into you. I saw the way he looked at you at the bar and at the crime scene. I have an eye for these things, trust me,” Carmen said and dodged the pen as well.

“Whatever,” I sighed. I spun around in my chair a few more times before an idea popped up in my head. “Guys, what if we set up an account on that dating app?”

“And then what? Meet with a creep? No thank you,” Gia said with a disgusting look on her face.

“I’m not a fan of that plan either. Please don’t do something like that Mel. Don’t do anything stupid. That could be very dangerous, and you know it,” Carmen agreed.

“It’s not like I’m actually going to meet him. I just want to see if I can figure out what profile he is using this time.” I stood up and looked out of the window. I oversaw the city, the sky was grey, and it was slightly raining. “Alright, fine. Can one of you give me something to do in that case? Otherwise I will make a dating profile.”

Later that day I laid in bed, trying to sleep. It was 1am and I had been trying to sleep for two hours, but I was still wide awake. I felt restless and didn’t know what I could do to fall asleep. I had tried to drink some tea, didn’t help. I watched an episode of The Office, didn’t help either. It also didn’t help Walter hadn’t texted me back for hours now. I wondered if he was already getting tired of me.

You know, I could, maybe, possible, just make an account on that dating app and swipe for a while. Maybe I would come across someone that matches the profile that the murderer would use. Gia and Carmen will probably kill me though.

I grabbed my phone. I hesitated for a second, but I downloaded the dating app. After I made an account and uploaded some cute selfies, I finally got to do some swiping. The most guys that came up were pretty basic. They didn’t spike my interest at all. They were the typical white boy, all with the same haircut and they looked like they did not only skip legday, also arm- and chestday. Half of them also posed proudly with a fish they had caught. As if that’s something girls like. Too bad none of these men look a little like Walter.

I also came across a few good looking, decent guys. I knew that was not what the police were looking for, so I swiped them to the left. The next profile was of a guy who was way too good looking. He also only had one picture. It was obviously that this picture was stolen from a model. The bio creeped me out a little. He said he liked to hike in nature, and he enjoyed the silence. You enjoy the silence? Are you trying to creep me out on purpose or what? I swiped him to the right. It was weird but I felt like this could be the one the police were looking for.

I swiped for a little while longer. Swiping a few sketchy looking profiles to the right until I felt my eyelids drop. Yawning, I put my phone aside and finally fell asleep.

The next morning my alarm woke me up. I stretched out after I turned the alarm off and grabbed my phone. There were a few messages, one of them was from Walter, but what spiked my interest was that I had a few matches on the dating app. I wanted to check it out, but I noticed I had to get out of bed and take a shower if I wanted to be at work on time.

After I had showered and got dressed, I grabbed my phone. The first message I opened was from Walter. He had texted me at 3am.

Walter: We were working late today, no breakthrough in the case. Missed texting with you, can I make it up by calling you tonight?

My heart skipped a few beats. He wanted to call? With me?! I stared at the message for a few seconds while I felt some butterflies flying around in my stomach. Okay, no need to freak out. He just wants to call, he is not proposing. Yet….

Melody: I missed texting with you too. And of course, you can call me tonight. I look forward to it.

Before I could overanalyse my response, I hit send. Take a deep breath Mel. No need to read into this too much. I checked my other messages and texted my mom and Gia back. My mom wanted to know how I was doing, and Gia needed an approval of her outfit of the day.

I walked to the kitchen and grabbed some milk and cereal. While I was eating my breakfast, I noticed the notifications from the dating app. There were a few new matches, and one of them had send a message. It was from the guy with the creepy profile. His name was John. Millions of people are named John, you could’ve at least been a bit more creative while choosing a name.

John: What do you say good looking? Let’s skip the talking stage and just meet up?

I shivered at the thought of meeting up with this guy, but he could be the one they’re looking for, right? I decided to just go to work and deal with it later.

The workday was slow and boring. I finished a few articles but spend most of my time gossiping with Gia about our favourite celebrities which annoyed Carmen at first, because she wanted to get some work done, but eventually she joined us. I also told them about Walter’s text from that morning. If I weren’t sure I already had a hearing problem from their screams before, I sure as hell would have one now. Those girls made sounds so high, I’m surprised the windows didn’t crack.

The rest day went by slow, and before I knew it the clock showed me it was 3pm. I had decided to not tell Gia and Carmen about the fact I downloaded the dating app and was considering meeting with ‘John’. I mean, I would inform Walter about it. I wasn’t a complete idiot. No need to stress those girls out. Why would I?

My phone buzzed and I picked it up. Another message from ‘John’.

John: What’s it going to be beautiful?

I thought about it, and what could go wrong? I would inform the police, aka Walter. Besides that, I can put up a fight. It’s not like I am a damsel in distress. Plus, the upside of being a little bigger; I’m harder to kidnap, you got to be pretty strong to even lift me up. I shrugged my shoulders and texted him back.

Melody: Sure.

Short, but clear. I looked around the office, Gia and Carmen both sat at their desks typing on their computers. They had no idea what I was doing. They would probably kill me, right here right now. Before I could change my mind about not telling them, my phone buzzed again.

John: Tonight, 7pm? A new bar just opened up, we could get a drink there.

The rest of the message contained the address of the place. I googled it before I answered. The website of the place popped up, and as I suspected, it was clearly a fake website. Bingo. I texted him back, saying I agreed with his plan.

The rest of the hours I had to spend at the office went by surprisingly quick. Soon people were starting to leave, and so were Gia, Carmen and me. We parted ways in the entrance hall, and I drove home. Once I was home, I looked in the fridge, and I came to the conclusion I had forgotten to do groceries. Again.

I wasn’t in the mood to order take out, so I quickly drove to the supermarket. Unfortunately, unlike last time, I didn’t ran into Walter. Shit, I still have to text him about my meeting with ‘John’. I’ll do it once I get back home.

I drove back home and started making dinner. After I ate dinner, and did the dishes, I looked at the clock. It was already 6.30pm and I had to leave soon. Glaring down at my outfit, I decided I wanted to wear something more comfortable. I went to my bedroom and stood in front of my closet. I grabbed an old pair of jeans and a simple long-sleeved black tee. No way I’m going to dress pretty for this guy. Wait, what if he actually is the guy from the picture? Nah, not gonna happen. Shit, I still need to text Walter.

I needed to hurry up and put the tee on. While putting on the jeans, I suddenly heard a sound I didn’t like to hear. I look down and saw the jeans have ripped in the area between my thighs. Thick thighs save lives? They sure as hell don’t save jeans. I thought while throwing them across the room. Quickly I grabbed another, old, pair of jeans and put it on. I put my shoes on and fixed my hair.

I ran into the living room again and grabbed my jacket. With my car keys and phone in one hand, I locked the door behind me with the other one and made my way to my car. 6.45pm, right on time. I started the car and drove off.

While I stood in front of a red light, I remembered I hadn’t texted Walter. Shit. Contemplating what to do, I decided to call him. He didn’t answer. Shit. I left a voicemail instead. The red light turned green and I continued driving. Once I had to stop in front of another red light, I decided to text him as well. I noticed how the streets around me became emptier and emptier.

The street where I was supposed to meet ‘John’ was dark and pretty empty. The sun was settling down, making it even darker. I parked my car at a parking lot and checked my phone. No response from Walter. Not yet at least. I was alone in the parking lot and decided to wait for a few minutes.

Alright, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe this was pretty dumb. And why did I forgot to text Walter. Why couldn’t I have done that sooner?! You know what, I’m just gonna go. This was dumb. And reckless.

But before I could start my car, someone opened my door. A man stood there, he was tall but not very muscular and he did not look like the profile picture at all. He looked at me with a creepy grin that made me regret doing this.

“Hello there, nice to meet you. I’m John and you must be Melody. Why don’t you step out of the car?” he said. I didn’t knew what to say, so I nodded and wanted to step out, but he spoke again. “Why don’t you leave that phone of yours here, we don’t need it do we?”

I knew I had to play by his rules. So, I left my phone and stepped out. He took the keys out of my hands and locked my car. I tried to keep thinking straight. Walter should be here soon, right?

John kept talking to me in the meanwhile. He kept telling me how pretty I was and how glad he was to meet with me. I stopped listening when I heard my phone go off in the car. Walter. If that is not him but my mom, I will do something to her.

“Come on, let’s get away from that car, shall we? The bar is right around the corner,” he spoke. We were the only people in the parking lot. I noticed he had parked his car a few feet away from me. Something was definitely not right.

“You know, I’m actually good here. Could you give me my car keys back though?” I asked. I knew he wouldn’t, but I had to stall. I really hoped the police would show up anytime now.

“Ah please? Just one drink?” He took a step closer to me and grabbed my wrist. I quickly twisted my wrist, releasing it from his grip. He looked at me with an unpleased look, and I suddenly felt a presence behind me. Never sneak up on me you dumbass. I thought as I felt the presence got closer.

Once I felt someone was right behind me, I didn’t waste another second. I took a step to the right and shoved my elbow straight into the guy’s nose with full force. He grunted in pain and when I looked behind me, I saw he grabbed his bloody nose with both his hands.

“Creepy Greg from finance?!” I say surprised. “Could have seen that one coming.”

“You bitch!” the guy in front of me yelled. He raised his fist and threw it at my face. Well, he attempted it. I dodged it and slammed my fist into his face instead.

“Sorry, that might leave a mark,” I smiled.

Creepy Greg from finance was still standing behind me, crying, and telling me I broke his nose and that I would pay for it. Make me.

I looked back at the other guy, and he swung his arms at me again, trying to hit me. I ducked to the side a few times, avoiding being hit. Sadly, I couldn’t escape all his attempts to hit me. His fist met the left side of my face. I felt my blood boiling from anger. I took a deep breath and raised my fists. While I was about to throw a punch, I heard loud noises. Cars. Thank God, they’re here.

Before I could comprehend what was going on, policemen were already running towards us. One tackled creepy Greg and a familiar figure tackled the other guy and threw a hard punch in his face. This is not supposed to turn me on. At all.

Walter got up and handed the guy over to another cop. The guy looked at me in disgust, but I didn’t see it. My eyes were focussed on Walter. He closed the gap between us by taking two passes.

“First of all, that was insanely stupid and dangerous and very dumb. This was reckless behaviour! But we will discuss this later,” he said vigorously.

“Yeah, I figured,” I said. I opened my mouth to continue speaking, but he spoke first.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he said with a concerned look in his blue eyes, and his hand caressed the cheek that had been hit. As his rough, calloused fingers touched my skin I felt a spark of electricity going down my spine. His other hand found its way to my waist, and he pulled me a little closer to him. His body radiated a welcoming warmth, and I smelled his familiar musky cologne.

“I’m fine, just got hit once. You should see creepy Greg’s nose,” I snickered.

“I did, and you sure know how to throw a punch,” he smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m glad you called and texted me. I’m sorry I missed the call. If I hadn’t missed it none of this would have happened.”

“No, don’t be sorry. This was a pretty stupid, reckless plan and I should have called sooner,” I quickly answered.

“It was indeed reckless and stupid,” he sighed. “Look, we need to take your statement. Why don’t I take you home after?”

“I’d like that, but my car is here,” I said while pointing at it. His hand left my cheek, but his other hand remained on my waist. He was so close to me, and I felt so comfortable despite what happened a few minutes prior.

“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry.” He grabbed my hand, interlaced his fingers with mine and guided me to one of his colleagues. My heart was racing and skipped a few beats at the same time. His hand felt warm and comforting. I never wanted to let go.

We reached his colleague and he started asking me questions and he squeezed my hand before letting go. He walked away to speak to some of his other colleagues and I immediately missed his hand, it felt like mine had fitted perfectly in his.

I told his colleague what happened, and I could see he thought it was really reckless, but I also saw in his eyes he was kind of impressed. He complimented me on how I stayed calm, but he did tell me to never do anything like this again.

Once he dismissed me, I looked around for Walter. I noticed him already walking towards me, and he offered me a little smile.

“So, Liam is going to take your car down to the station and I will drive you home, alright?”

“Thank you,” I smiled at him. “Can I get something from my car? My phone and keys are still in there.”

After we got my stuff out of the car, he pointed at a big truck. We walked towards it in silence, and he placed his hand on my lower back. Oh god, please keep that hand there forever. Okay, I might be incredibly touch starved.

Unfortunately, we reached the car too soon and his hand left my back to open the door for me. I climbed in and he closed it. He walked around the truck, took place behind the drivers’ wheel, and started the car. While he drove into the street he asked for my address.

We sat in silence next to each other, the radio softly hummed a rock song. I looked out of the window, it was dark and suddenly I realized that what I had done tonight, could have ended badly. Really badly.

“Hey, are you okay?” Walter put his hand on my thigh but when I looked at him, his hand shot up to my cheek to wipe a falling tear away.

“Yeah, yeah. Just realizing that this maybe wasn’t a smart thing to do,” I offered him a small smile. His hand left my cheek and found its way back to my thigh. The warmth coming from it spread throughout my entire body and I didn’t think twice and placed my hand on top of his. He turned his hand around and interlaced his fingers with mine for the second time that night.

He smiled at me and focussed on the road again. We were near my home, but I did not want to be alone now. Heck, I wanted to be near him. I didn’t want him to go. It felt so good to just be around him. I have never felt so comfortable around someone so quickly.

He parked the truck in front of my apartment building, not letting go of my hand.

“So, we’re here,” I mumbled. He grunted in response. We sat in the truck in silence for a few more minutes until it started to rain. I knew it was now or never, he was not going to offer going inside with me. Not after what happened. Perhaps he thought I wanted to be alone.

I felt anxious, but I decided to just ask it.

“Could you stay with me for a while?” I avoided looking at him, but he squeezed my hand and his other hand gently grabbed my chin, making me look into his eyes.

“Sure thing doll.”

•••

> chapter five

Taglist: @keanureevesisbae / @klaine-92 / @xxxkatxo / @stxlemate / @oddsnendsfanfics / @amberangel112 / @seriouslygoodlookinggents / @sillyrabbit81 / @pixie88 / @cynic-spirit / @rn7rocks / @daddys-littlewhitegirl / @little-brattyangel / @omgkatinka / @myloveforhenrycavill / @eldarwen333 / @kebabgirl67

If you want to be on the taglist, let me know ✨

#Walter marshall #Walter marshall x ofc #Walter marshall x oc #walter marshall x curvy ofc #walter marshall x plus size ofc #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x ofc #Henry Cavill x oc #henry cavill x curvy ofc #henry cavill x plus size ofc #night hunter #nomis #plus size ofc #curvy ofc

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autisticcassandracain · 3 years

Text

Braids and Cuts

Fandom/Characters: Batman Comics, Cassandra Cain & Duke Thomas

Wordcount: 1475

Summary: Cass convinces Duke to cut his hair with her, and suggests getting braids. Duke has mixed feelings. The last person who'd done his braids was his mom.

Notes: Written for @duketectivecomics’s Duke Week Day 6: Family Bonding! I tried my best to do my research to be respectful and realistic, but I’m white, so if I got anything wrong regarding natural hair, please let me know! You can read this on AO3 here!

///

The Wayne Manor bathroom closest to their bedrooms - because there was more than one, he’d never get used to this mansion no matter how long he spent in it - was still larger than Duke’s old bedroom, which made it easily large enough to drag a truly gigantic standing mirror in there, so they’d be able to see the back of their heads without the hassle of a handheld mirror. Duke laid their guards out while Cass stood in front of it.

“Who’s first?” Cass asked, angling her head so she could see both her sides.

“You, ‘cause mine’ll probably take longer.” Plus, he hadn’t entirely decided whether he’d go through with it. It’d taken quite a while for his hair to grow back this long, and even cutting half of it off was... daunting, to say the least.

When you can’t jump off rooftops, just cut your own hair, you’ll get about the same adrenaline rush.

“I want just one side shaved,” Cass reminded him while she sat back in the chair.

Duke pulled out a clipper and rolled his eyes. “I know, you’ve only said it about three hundred times, but thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, lowest guard?”

The mirror reflected Cass’s huge grin. “Yup.”

It was easier than Duke had expected it to be, but then again, Cass’s hair was straight as a board. The scissors went in almost as easy as the clippers, and before he knew it, half her head was gone and shaved.

And yeah, it actually did look pretty damn good.

Admittedly, Duke had been skeptical when Cass’d first suggested getting dual haircuts. Not just because he’d never done his own hair, but because Cass’s fashion sense was... questionable. Sure, she had strong opinion on how she should look, which was something. It was just unfortunate that none of her opinions were any good. She’d been known to combine every colour in the visible light spectrum in the same outfit, socks with crocs, and just straight up rip off pieces of her clothes if she didn’t like how it looked. Sometimes it worked. Most of the time, it really didn’t.

But she’d come prepared with a photo album of approximately a thousand different tapered cuts, saved sides, and every braid, loc, and twist combo with those you could imagine, and, well. When Duke’d first started growing out his hair again, he’d hoped it would lead to him finally learning how to be creative with it, like his mom was. In practice, he’d done absolutely nothing, except narrowly keeping it alive. Maybe it was time for a chop.

“You sure you don’t want me to do the other side?” Duke asked, fully expecting a no.

Instead, Cass paused, looking in the mirror, angling her head this way and that. Then, she grabbed the clippers from his hand, and raked it through her hair.

“Cass!”

“I’m doing a buzzcut.”

“I thought you said you wanted one side? You were pretty adamant about it!”

“Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Queer reasons.”

Duke rubbed his nose. “Sure, okay, whatever makes you happy. But can I at least finish it?”

Cass paused, cocked her head a little, then handed him the clippers.

“Thanks. And I hope you’re not expecting me to cut everything off.”

“Nope.”

“Good, because I spent way too long growing it for that.” And with that, he started shaving the rest of her head.

Around the time he was busy trying not to cut her ear off (easy, with the guard, but still), Cass said, “You should get yellow yarn braids.”

Duke threw her an incredulous look through the mirror. “You’re either wildly underestimating how long yarn braids take, or my patience.”

“You like them,” Cass insisted.

Which, yes, she wasn’t wrong, but, “How could you possibly know that?”

“You kept coming back to them. In the style collection.”

And, yeah, he had. Sure, getting yellow yarn braids was about as ironic as writing ‘I AM THE SIGNAL’ on the side of his head, but it was just such a cool look. He could save both sides of his head and keep them long, or shave only one and make them shorter, and both would be amazing.

“I’m not getting them,” he said. He shut the clipper off. “There, how do you like that?”

The only thing left on Cass’s head were tiny, prickly hairs, that she immediately went to rub her hand across. She stood up and twirled a bit in the mirrors, wearing a huge grin. “Love it.”

“Glad to hear that.” He gave her the clippers. “Go wash that, I should probably section my hair first.” She gave him a thumbs up and moved towards the sink.

They worked in silence for a little while, Duke carefully separating his hair with a comb and moisturizing it, while Cass washed and dried the clippers. The sound of running water would’ve been soothing if Duke wasn’t running high on nerves.

“Can I do it?” Cass asked.

“Cass, I love you, but I’d rather die than let you anywhere near my hair.” He gestured towards her hand. “Give me the clippers.”

And with a pout, she handed them over and hopped onto the washing machine to watch.

Well. No putting it off anymore.

He put the clippers to his head and went to work.

It wasn’t as difficult as he’d expected it to be. He slowly worked over his head, making sure to keep his eyes on the mirror, even as he could feel Cass staring at him.

“I could do the braids,” she offered, from atop the washing machine.

“What part of ‘I’d rather die than let you near my hair’ did you not get?” Duke answered, barely paying attention.

“You used to have braids.”

That made him pause his clipping. “How do you know?”

“Saw pictures at your house.”

“Ah.” He’d taken them down for a while, after he’d come out, but he’d taken a few kid photos with him in foster care, after his parents... you know. It was comforting to hold onto these memories, and over time, it had stopped being strange or embarrassing to see himself look like a little girl. Even a bit nostalgic, in a weird way.

Which might be why he was considering bringing back the styles he’d worn before he’d come out. It made him remember the way his mom used to braid his hair. She was a fast braider, had to be, with box braids being her preferred style. She wore them for as long as she could get away with it, preferring natural looks for her own hair, but gladly braided his with as many beads and bright colours as he asked. He’d never actually been to a professional; braiding had been his and his mom’s little ritual, over the weekend, with Netflix or songs in the background. They’d only stopped when he’d come out and clipped his hair short.

“My mom used to do my braids,” he simply said, and Cass made an understanding noise.

“Don’t you want to learn?” she asked.

On the one hand, he did. He’d always wanted to learn, to be just as fast as his mom. On the other hand, he really, really didn’t. He just wanted his mom to do them for him, forever. Or at least for another few years, to make up for lost time.

Also, on a lighter note, he didn’t feel like sitting still for like, two days, while failing to do his first pair of braids, and really didn’t feel like doing it all alone.

He’d nearly reached the end of his haircut, detangling the last piece of hair to cut before going in for precision clips. It went swift, after that, and in the end, the haircut looked good. Full on the top, low on the sides and back. Mom had always had a full head of hair, but he felt like braids on this style would give it his own twist.

He’d like to show it to her. Maybe she’d even be present enough to appreciate it.

“I’ll do the yarn braids on one condition,” he announced, turning to Cass.

She peaked up. “What?”

“You stay with me the entire time while I do them, and you’re not allowed to get distracted on your phone.”

She grimaced. “You’re mean.”

“You’re the one that wants me to do the braids.”

“Only because it’d make you happy.”

“And because it’d look cool?”

“I’d prefer pink. And orange.”

“Of course you do, you lesbian. Do we have a deal?”

She wrinkled her nose, but said, “Deal.”

It took way longer than he (or Cass, who complained the whole time) would have liked, but two days later, he had yarn braids that ended mid-back, with electric yellow yarn.

He couldn’t be sure, but he thought his mom liked them.

#dukethomasweek2021 #duke thomas #cassandra cain #my posts #my writing #also cass is intended to be a nonbinary trans lesbian but it didn't come up that much

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stolethekey · 3 years

Text

i woke up just in time, now i wake up by your side

hello! this is for the (final!) @b99fandomevents—i can’t believe how far these two (and this show) have come, and i’m gonna miss them so much. i got to write this for @amydancepants-peralta, who wanted a fic where jake and amy have a disatrous first date, and then amy decides to transfer to chicago—jake has three days to convince her to stay.

enjoy! (you can also read this on ao3.)

It’s their first date, and it’s a disaster.

Neither of them has said anything in the ten minutes since they’ve sat down. Jake buries his nose into the menu, hoping that he looks occupied enough with choosing an entrée to excuse the heavy silence that has settled over the table. A few feet away, in the other side of the booth, Amy does the same thing.

A young man in a pressed suit and tie approaches their table, a small, nervous smile on his face. “Are you all ready to order?”

“Yes!” Amy nearly leaps at the chance to talk to someone who is not Jake. Jake tries not to feel too hurt by the desperate excitement in her voice. “I’ll take the chicken piccata, please.”

Jake lingers around the chicken parmesan but ends up going with a steak, because he’s determined to show Amy and maybe himself that he can eat like an adult. They pass their silk-embossed menus to the waiter, sip their waters, and suddenly it’s too quiet again.

“You got a haircut,” Jake notices, wringing his hands nervously under the table.

“It looks nice.”

“Thanks.”

There is a beat of silence that stretches just a little too long, and then Jake says, “This is awkward.”

Amy chokes out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Another moment passes. Jake swallows the non-existent saliva in his mouth. Their waiter, mercifully, returns with their food a few minutes later. Jake doesn’t want him to leave. He does, of course, and then they’re left in that terrible silence again.

Jake makes it through half his steak before speaking again. “Should we, um, just get really drunk?”

Amy grimaces, reaching for her water. “I don’t think so.” Her voice is quiet, almost defeated. “If we can’t do this sober, what’s the point?”

Something twists uncomfortably in Jake’s stomach, but he stabs his fork into his a piece of broccoli anyway. - It’s the day after their first date, and Amy asks for a transfer.

Jake learns about this through a wail from the evidence lockup that he hears from a good twenty yards away. He bursts through the door, frantic, to find Charles curled in a ball on the ground, rocking back and forth.

Charles gets out the details in between sobs, or at least enough details that Jake gets most of the picture. Amy put in a transfer to Chicago, it’s been granted on account of an emergency vacancy that needs to be filled, and she has three days left at the Nine-Nine.

“Three days,” Charles gasps, tears streaming out of his eyes. “Three days, you have to convince her to stay, Jake, you have to—”

“Hold on,” Jake says desperately, watching Charles dab at his face with a completely saturated tissue. “Let me get you another box of Kleenex.”

He opens the door to leave and runs straight into the source of Charles’s despair, in the flesh.

“Oh,” says Amy.

Jake closes the door behind him before Charles can see her and have a heart attack, then crosses his arms. “Is it true? Are you leaving?”

Amy has the grace to look self-conscious, shuffling her feet and shoving her hands in her pockets. She nods, and Jake feels strangely like the walls are swimming around him.

It just makes sense, she says. She has family there, and New York is too crowded, too expensive, and maybe Chicago is a better place to live anyway.

“Is this because of me?” Jake demands. “Because of…you know…our date?”

“No, of course not.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

Jake scoffs before stalking past her into the bullpen, ignoring her half-hearted call of his name. He blinks back the hot, furious tears forming in his eyes, and internally he starts a calendar. - On Day One, Jake calls in sick to work.

He responds to the “r u ok??” texts from Charles, Rosa, Gina, and Terry with a copy-and-pasted “I’m ok. Just feeling gross.” He ignores the ones that mention Amy. He also pretends like he doesn’t notice that Amy hasn’t sent him anything.

The morning is spent mindlessly scrolling through his social media beneath his blankets, with no regard for time or his grumbling stomach.

At noon, Charles posts a picture of the squad from Halloween with the caption “Gonna miss my favorite Halloween-hater. #SayonaraSantiago.” Jake decides he’s had enough Instagram for the day and finally hauls himself out of bed.

He orders a pizza, then turns his phone off and the TV on. Inadvertently, the pizza becomes both lunch and dinner and one Die Hard movie becomes a marathon—and before he knows it, the sky outside his apartment is dark.

“Well, that was productive,” Jake mutters, brushing the pizza crumbs off his lap before standing up to toss his trash into the garbage.

On Day Two, they aren’t talking to each other.

Amy looks up almost timidly as he walks out of the elevator, then waits until he reached his desk to let out a small, hesitant “Hi.”

Jake grabs the file waiting for him on his desk and walks out of the bullpen without looking at her.

So, strictly speaking, this is mostly his fault.

That fact does not do anything to quell the mixture of anger and hurt writhing in his stomach. He spends the day furiously completing paperwork in an empty interrogation room, jabbing his pen so furiously into the paper that he rips a hole in an I-918 and has to start over.

At noon, Rosa stops by with a turkey sub, which she drops wordlessly on the desk in front of him before sliding back out the door.

At five, he has completed more paperwork than he has in the last month combined. He drops the stack of files on Terry’s desk, forces a smile, and says, “Finally caught up on all those forms you’ve been hounding me about.”

Terry, his eyes piercing and slightly concerned, does not laugh. “Dismissed.”

It’s Day Three, and Holt has had enough.

He assigns Jake and Amy to label evidence in the lockup together, much to Jake’s chagrin. Amy turns and speeds off without a word. Jake turns towards Holt with a big, reproachful protest on the tip of his tongue but is cut off by Holt’s raised eyebrows and stern expression.

“Peralta, you need to get over yourself.”

“What?”

“You need to get over yourself,” Holt repeats. “Your partner of six years is leaving tomorrow, and you haven’t spoken to her in three days.”

Jake snorts, crossing his arms defensively. “Yeah, well, she’s leaving because of me, so—”

“I’m not sure that matters,” Holt says, not unkindly. “If you let her leave like this, you might never get the chance to talk to her again.”

Jake stares at the ground, furiously attempting to dig a hole in the ground with his toe.

“I know you don’t want this to be the way things end.” Holt’s voice is gentle, and Jake can’t bring himself to look up. “It would be unwise to let your pride get in the way of your last chance to save your friendship.”

“Whatever,” Jake mutters irritably, but something uncomfortable has begun to form in his gut. “Gimme that Sharpie so I can go write case numbers on a bunch of ziplock bags.”

Jake does not, in fact, get over himself—at least not for the first few hours. He chooses to instead label evidence in the same furious silence that has occupied his past three days, pretending he doesn’t see the furtive, almost timid glances Amy throws his way every few minutes.

Then he walks to a bodega for lunch and realizes mid-chew that this is Amy’s last lunch at the Nine-Nine, and the uncomfortable thing in his stomach grows a lot bigger.

He finally swallows his pride on his walk back to the precinct, and when he re-enters the evidence lockup the thing in his stomach has started feeling a lot more like guilt.

Amy walks in a few minutes after him, tossing a balled-up sandwich wrapper into the trash, and notices that he’s watching her. “You have something to say to me?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jake says quickly. “I do.”

She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes, and Jake’s heart sinks a little.

“I—uh—I’m sorry,” Jake says. “For how I reacted, and for icing you out the past few days. It was immature of me, and stupid, and I should’ve been an adult about it, but—well, I guess we both know I suck at that sometimes.”

Amy snorts, but her expression has softened slightly. “Thank you.”

“And I’m gonna make it up to you,” Jake continues, almost determinedly. “We’re gonna make this the best day you’ve ever had at the Nine-Nine.”

Amy laughs slightly. “I don’t think that’s possible, given the amount of work we have left.”

“Who cares?” Jake shrugs. “The best part of work has always been the people anyway.”

And for all the organizational skills Jake may lack, he sure knows how to delegate. All it takes is a couple text messages to a new, Amy-less precinct group chat and the rest of the Nine-Nine is off. Gina cashes in on a favor and gets Shaw’s to close its doors for the evening. Rosa makes a last-minute motorcycle trip to a local party store and uses a sizable amount of cash and her surprising aesthetic skill to acquire a large box of decorations. Charles says, “leave the food to me,” and no one is brave enough to question him about it.

Jake stays with Amy on the floor of the evidence lockup. They talk and laugh as they work, reminiscing about their years at the Nine-Nine and the particularly memorable perps they’ve brought in.

There’s also a supercut of the stuff that wasn’t work at all—the precinct parties, Charles saving Thanksgiving, the Boyle-Linetti wedding. There are the Halloween heists, the Jimmy Jabs, and there’s the Bet, with a capital B. Neither of them mentions the last one, but Jake is definitely thinking about it.

“Remember that time Terry tried to do the full bullpen and almost knocked a tooth out?” Amy asks, grinning widely. “I thought Sharon was gonna pull him out of the force immediately.”

“You have no faith,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I knew she’d let him stay.”

“You did not.” Amy points at him, narrowing her eyes. “You were so scared when she came to pick him up.”

“I was not—”

“So scared. I’ve never seen a grown man visibly tremble like that, but—”

“God, shut up.” Jake throws a balled-up piece of tape at her, and she laughs. It’s a real one, this time, one that’s bright and infectious.

They let it fade into a gentle silence, one that’s more comfortable than the ones of the past few days.

There’s a beat, and then Jake says, “Don’t go to Chicago.”

He expects Amy to be surprised by this change of subject—to recoil and give an affronted, “what?”

Instead, she sighs, long and slow, and closes the manila folder in front of her. “Jake—”

“I mean, I know it’s your decision, and I respect that,” Jake says quickly. “And if you truly meant what you said to me earlier, about how it’s important to be near your family and it’s a better place for you to live and you’ve grown out of New York—if that’s really the reason you’re leaving, then that’s fine. Just tell me, and I’ll shut up about it and we can just have a big blowout goodbye party and you can leave.”

Amy picks at the edge of her boot and says nothing.

“But if it’s not—if you’re leaving because of what happened on our date—I don’t want to be the reason you give this up, Amy. I know how much you love it here, and this place loves you too. Captain Holt is a phenomenal mentor to you, we both know that, and you might not get that in Chicago—you’ve done so much good work here that I know you’re proud of, and I can’t be the reason you don’t have that anymore.”

Amy looks at him, her eyes a stormy mix of unreadable emotions, but still doesn’t say anything.

“Look,” Jake says, splaying out his hands in front of him. “That date was kind of a disaster, we both know that. And I think it’s because we were both trying too hard, because we cared too much. Because we’re friends, Amy, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

He takes a deep breath, then says, “I don’t care if we never date. I don’t care if I never get to hug you, or kiss you, or do any of the things I’ve so desperately wanted to do. I just can’t lose your friendship. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had, and an even better friend, and I would be more than happy to just be friends with you for the rest of my life. God knows it’s more than I deserve.”

“You deserve plenty,” Amy says softly.

Jake swallows the way that makes his chest flutter. “I’m just saying—I’m laying my cards all out on the table, here. I want you to stay, and I respect it if you don’t want that. But please don’t let me be the reason for you leaving.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Amy gives him a small, wistful smile that says everything Jake needs to hear.

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath and wiping his hands on his jeans. “Party at Shaw’s it is, then.”

Amy slaps the last label on a duffle bag, checks her watch, and stands. “I’m actually taking off early—I need to clear up some stuff at City Hall before I leave. I’ll meet you there?”

“Oh,” Jake says, a little dumbfounded.

Amy notices his expression and shakes her head quickly. “No, it’s not—I mean, this has been settled for days, Holt knows, I was always leaving at three today. So it’s not, like, spontaneous, you know. I would’ve told you earlier, but—"

“I was being an ass. Yeah.”

Amy gives him that little sad smile again, and Jake wants to kick a wall. “I’ll see you at the bar,” she says, almost gently.

Jake forces a smile and nods. “Yeah. Looking forward to it.” - When he pushes through the doors of his favorite bar a few hours later, Jake is expecting loud music, streamers, and—if Gina’s Instagram stories were credible—possibly Mario Lopez. Instead, the bar is completely empty.

There are no balloons, no decorations—the only set table is in the middle of the floor, and on it sits a pizza, two salads, and two glasses of water.

“What—what is this?” Jake mutters, mostly to himself.

“A dinner between two friends,” Amy says, emerging from behind the bar. She gives him a small, slightly nervous smile. “And if it goes well, a second date.”

Jake blinks.

“You were right,” Amy tells him, carrying a bottle of wine and two wine glasses to the table. “Our friendship is the most important thing, here, and it means a lot to both of us. I mean, that’s why we were trying so hard in the first place, right? Neither of us wanted it to fail.”

Jake nods in silent assent, not trusting whatever his mouth would say if he let it.

“But it did fail. Miserably.”

“Uh-huh,” Jake says, somewhat stupidly.

“So the worst thing that could happen has already happened, and we’ve gotten through it. And I think—I think, now, having gone through the past few days, we know enough to give it another shot. As long as we set very clear boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Jake repeats. “Boundaries are good.”

“Yeah,” says Amy with a slightly amused smile. “So, we’re friends. Really good friends. And that’s what we have to protect, above anything. So this is not necessarily a date. It’s a dinner, and we’re a pair of very good friends who are gonna eat it. And if we want to, afterwards, we can decide to call it a date.”

“Can you do that?” Jake asks. “Label something a date after it’s already happened?”

“Who cares?” Amy smirks. “Since when have you followed rules?”

Jake swallows and shrugs.

“Anyway, if it’s awkward, or weird, then we move past it. It’s a slightly awkward moment between friends that doesn’t have to mean anything. No more silent treatment, no more rash decisions, just two friends who are still friends afterwards. Got it?”

“Afterwards,” Jake says slowly. “So—Chicago—”

“Yeah, I’m not going,” Amy says, her eyes sparkling. “That was a dumb thing I did to avoid this guy I went on a terrible date with.”

A broad grin starts to make its way across Jake’s face. “He sounds like he sucks.”

Amy laughs, then pulls out a chair and points at it. “So—pizza?”

The grin on Jake’s face softens into something smaller, something gentler. “Definitely.”

They each take a slice, then a bite, and Jake will never admit it—but it’s the best Meat Supreme he’s ever tasted.

#b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #this one was fun i hope u guys like it!#i can't believe this show is almost over #i'm gonna miss it very much #my fics #my b99 fics #jake peralta x amy santiago #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #b99

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demivampirew · 3 years

Text

Say no to this.

Henry x Reader (wife) x Reader (the other woman)

Triggers: Angst; cheating, breakup, divorce (and crying).

A/N: This was inspired by two songs from the musical Hamilton: Say No to This and Burn, and it’s told from the perspective of the characters (Henry, Reader (Wife), Reader (the other woman)

You can find more of my writings in the Masterlist

Having the chance to portray one of his favourite characters is an honour for which Henry will forever be thankful. Yet, he must admit that having to spend time apart from his family was not an easy task.

He sat on the bed in the dark hotel room, only enlightened by the moonlight. On his phone screen, he saw the picture you’ve sent him earlier that day of you and your daughter playing, you dressed as a princess and the six-year-old as a dragon. “Oh, your mighty witcher, come and save me, please,” read the message under the picture. Henry missed dressing up in costumes and running around the house with his little angel, who would laugh uncontrollably every time he caught and started to tickle her.

It’s been over two months since he left for work; 60 plus days without feeling the lovely touch of your hands on his face, too much time without feeling the warmness of your body against his.

He laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling for an hour, unable to sleep when his phone announced that he had a new message.

“Are you awake? I can’t sleep,” y/n wrote. She was a friend he made on the set of the show - she worked as a personal assistant for one of the recurrent directors of the show and she was staying at the same hotel that Henry. “Yes. Can’t sleep either. Come if you want,” he replied, thinking that some company would help him to feel less lonely.

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door. Henry opened the door and invited y/n to come in. Once inside, she faced him and smiled as she showed him the content of her bag: a PS and The Witcher 3 game. “I know you’re more into pc, but l don’t have a gaming pc here, so we will have to play with this, okay,” she said grinning.

“I remember you saying that you were good at this,” y/n while rolling her eyes, teasing him. “I am, but in the pc,” Henry defended himself with a playful smile.

They played the game for two hours before she suggested that it might be time for her to leave. Henry tried to disconnect the console from the tv but she told him to keep it, for now, so he could keep practising.

“Well, good night. I hope you can have a good sleep and tomorrow enjoy your free day,” y/n told him. “Same for you,” he said goodbye, but neither of them moved. They stared at each other for a long minute in silence. Henry’s hands reached for her face bringing it closer to his, culminating in a passionate kiss, while her arms embraced him.

Her naked body, covered only by the bed-sheets rested on the mattress as she slept. Henry looked at her for a moment and then walked towards the bathroom. He washed his face on the sink and then stared at the mirror, finding it hard to recognize the person that was reflected in the mirror. “I promise you that I will be forever faithful to you, my love” he once promised you, his lovely wife, and now the words echoed inside his mind, as stabs on his heart.

How could had he broken the promise he made you? Did he not loved you any more? No, that was sure of that, he loved you more than he had ever done. You no only made him happy and supported him through tough times, but you also gave him the thing that he treasured the most in the world: his daughter. But, he had to be honest with himself, for the first time in a long time and admit that things were not as they used to be. Before the birth of the little girl, you used to be inseparable. You would go with him everywhere in the world, game and laugh and made love every second you could. Now, you were parents; your lives centred on the precious angel and work and were often too tired and since the kid would like to sleep with you, often lacked intimacy.

The worst part of all: he wished that he could say that it was a one time mistake, but it became an affair that lasted for months.

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You hated yourself. In the past, you’d constantly criticized “the other woman” for being malicious women who stole men from others. Now you had become one of them. Well, no completely. Sure, you were carrying an affair with a married man, but you weren’t a fool, you knew that you would never be able to “stole” anyone and he would never leave his wife for you; he never made such a promise and you knew him well enough to know that he loved his family more than anything in the world and he was being vulnerable due to the distance between his true woman and him. Were you a bad woman for being with a taken man knowing that he was in such a delicate emotional position? Maybe, but to be completely honest, so were you. Months before you met Henry, your fiancé cancelled the wedding because he had fallen in love with somebody else. You were feeling lonely and undesired and you had developed a crush on him before that first night. So, you didn’t find the strength to fight the desire and succumb to the temptation.

Every night you’ve spent together, with his strong arms embracing you as his lips caressed your body, felt amazing no matter how wrong it was. And, even if your heart ripped every time you remembered that he wasn’t truly yours - and you were reminded of that constantly, since there was no a single time in which he hadn’t unconsciously said his wife’s name as he reached climax, you couldn’t find it in you to put it a stop.

You knew that this would have a bad end. No matter the outcome, someone would get hurt.

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That day, your sister offered to take care of your six-year-old so you could have some time to yourself to process things.

Desperate to get some distance and to be alone, you rented a small cabin outside the city.

The sun was coming down when you lifted a bonfire outside the place and sat in front of it with a box that you’ve carried there moments before.

Your fingers caressed every picture - of your first date, your first anniversary as girlfriend and boyfriend; vacations, birthdays and even your wedding. Every photo would get wet with your tears before you threw them into the fire. All objects that reminded of the love you once shared, ended up becoming ashes. Letters, poems, teddy bears, roses that you dried; everything. The only surviving things were the pictures you shared with your daughter, but you would make sure to send them to his mother because you didn’t want to see them any more, the pain was too great.

Finally, you took from your pocket the pictures you printed before to look at them for one last time. They were screenshots from a celebrity news website and the headline read “The Witcher star Henry Cavill is seen kissing a mystery woman”, followed by paparazzi photos of him with someone on the balcony of his hotel room. Angrily, you crashed the prints and let them burn into they became nothing.

With nothing more to do, you watched the flames, as you let your tears fall, feeling completely and utterly broken.

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The production was over. After the news crashed, Henry had to continue filming, pretending that nothing happened, while some people looked at him as if he was a monster. Could he blame them for that?

When the article about his affair was published, his brother Charlie was the one who delivered the bad news - his stepdaughter had seen it and told him about it.

He didn’t know what to do. He called his wife over and over, but she never answered. All-day long he tried to communicate with his love, but every time without luck.

Y/N tried to call him, too, but this time he was the one who ignored the call. He had nothing against her. Henry knew that she could no be blamed for his mistake, but he couldn’t talk to her right now. His wife was his priority.

Unfortunately, the only response he got from her was from her sister, two days later, letting him know that she was going to file for a divorce and she never wanted to see him or talk to him again. That she would only allow him to contact her, through her or another family member and elusively for things related to their daughter. She was going to share custody with him, but he would have to pick up and leave the girl on her sister or parent’s house.

Now, months later, he driving to his sister-in-law’s house to pick up his daughter and to leave the divorce papers that he had to sing.

There were no words to explain how much it hurt him to lose the woman he loved deeply. The only consolation was that his family continued to show him love and support as they always did. And, his daughter, unaware of the reason why her mommy and daddy decided to go separate ways, still love him enormously and would fill him with joy every minute of every day that he had her.

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It was obvious that there was no going to be a good end to the affair - it never does. You knew someone would get hurt, but you’d never imagined that it would be all three of you.

Terrible didn’t even begin to explain how bad you felt. Of all the three of you, you were the one who got it the “best”, since luckily the pictures only showed your hair in a bun and your back, so only a few close people knew that it was you and they were polite enough to keep the secret to avoid you getting harassed. Although, just in case, you dried your hair and got a new haircut.

Henry’s wife filed for the divorce after she found out about the affair. He let you know via text when he put an end to things and told you he could no longer see you. Even if there was no chance to get back with her, he couldn’t be with you because he loved her too much and you reminded him of the mistake he made. As he suggested, you continued working for a few more weeks there to avoid people finding out that it was you, but later quit.

That was by far the worst mistake that you’ve ever made. So much people got hurt; a girl now has two parents that can’t be in the same room, two people who loved each other who can’t be together because the ghost of you would always be present to remind them of the mistake and a person who’s affection was never truly corresponded and caused the break of a family.

Therapy has been truly beneficial in helping you heal and leaving the past in the past.

Today a new article about Henry was posted online. It consisted of pictures of him and his cute girl buying a Christmas tree and he was laughing at his daughter's funny faces.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill angst #demivampirew

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dcforts · 3 years

Text

[week 4: selfie together]

1.7k, post-canon, non canon compliant.

Three days to impact (moving out with Cas and a bunch of hunter nerds settling into the bunker to set up the Network), and Dean was still elbow deep in messy drawers, sorting through his stuff in one of the research rooms. He couldn’t believe he had managed to hoard that much crap when he spent there not more than six months every year.

Sam had already taken care of most of it and thrown away a lot of junk when he had moved away with Eileen a year or so ago, so Dean had thought that he would be packed in less than a day with what was left. He was wrong.

He was tackling a bunch of phones and chargers all tangled up together, trying to figure out which ones were still working. Between him and Sam they had probably gone through a hundred or so phones, without counting the burners, their dad’s and those of other hunters, passed on after their deaths.

You had to keep them on, check the messages, write down the contacts – for a long time it was the only way to keep the network going and to make sure that no call for help would ever go unanswered.

Hopefully the Network, with Charlie fancy digital system and stolen tech from the Brits, would make things a lot easier. The bunker would become the hunter HQ that it was always meant to be. And Sam and Dean would still go there from time to time, but it would become more like a workplace than an actual home.

Magazines apparently said you had to keep them separated and all that. So, they were trying.

He wasn’t even halfway done when he found his old phone. It was not too ancient or anything and he used to like it just fine, but for Christmas Claire and the girls had gotten him a new one (“not for work!!” said the note attached to it) so he had just dumped it in here.

It had no SIM card, but there were some police contacts (useful) and the Candy Crush app (not useful). He went on to check the gallery and was surprised to find still some pictures in it.

He snorted, seeing one of the last taken – Sam, drunk on Christmas Day, a paper crown askew on his head, trying to focus enough to play Jenga with someone who was out of the shot. Dean didn’t remember who it was anymore. Sam had the most incredible face on.

Oh, there were pictures from when they went to visit Garth! He had taken them at Frontier Stables in Frederic and Dean and Gertie had possibly been equally excited about riding a horse. There were a bunch of pictures of that day, including one Garth had taken of him where he looked like an absolute dork.

Wow, they must have been at least a year or so older, he had totally forgotten about them. Now, he couldn’t just put the phone down and resume his work. He debated with himself (very briefly) if he could afford a break or not and then flopped down on the floor covered in cardboard boxes to look through the rest of the gallery.

Most of the pictures were cases related, articles and crime scenes, then a bunch of landscapes, an amazing looking burger from that joint in Texas.

There was one with Cas that he had taken one night. Dean’s face was on the foreground, on the left, and he was making a funny face, his index finger to his lips. The red couch was visible behind his shoulders and Cas was by his side, his face turned towards the television screen and lighted by it.

They had been cooped up in Dean’s cave for nearly four hours and all that time Sam was freaking out because he didn’t know where they were and he couldn’t find them. When Dean had checked his phone, he had found fourteen missed calls and a bunch of texts. He had sent him that picture back and written shh it's movie night.

Sam had come bursting through the door two seconds later and bitched at him for fifteen minutes for having his phone on silent and then stayed and watched Back to the Future III with them.

This was before he and Cas even got together – well, officially at least.

It felt like so long ago, back when they were all: fingers brushing, intense gazing, losing track of time when alone together. They were so clueless.

It had sorted itself out though. A couple of weeks after that, Dean had fallen asleep on Cas’ shoulder and Cas had spent the rest of the night holding him and he had done that every night since.

Dean smiled and scrolled down, back in time.

More photos on the road, book pages, his car against a pretty sunset. Then a group selfie that they sent to Jody for her birthday. Sam and Eileen were still living at the bunker then and Sam was holding the phone, on account of having three feet long arms. They were standing in the kitchen, Eileen right next to him, under his other arm and Dean next to Eileen.

Cas had appeared on the door as they were getting in position so Sam he had told him to hurry up, get in the frame and he had come to stand next to Dean, stiff like a statue. Sam had said, a little closer, so Dean had slung an arm around his neck and pulled him towards him.

Right when Sam had been about to snap it, Cas had grabbed Dean’s hand, that was dangling over his shoulder. So of course, in the picture Dean looked like a total idiot, with his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted in surprise. He had even stopped breathing a little and Cas next to him had the audacity to look totally oblivious. Dean zoomed in on his face and cackled at himself. God, and what was up with that haircut he had, did he even look at himself in the mirror.

He went on.

A few rows below there was another selfie. It was just him this time and it was terrible, the sunlight making the picture look all wrong, like there was a filter on it. It was a vertical shot that showed just about his face and shoulders.

It had been early in the morning, he was bleary-eyed and there was a little wrinkle in between his eyebrows because he had been in the car waiting for Sam to come back with their coffee for twenty minutes.

Cas had texted him out of the blue, Can you send me a picture of you? and Dean had snapped it and sent it without thinking and then he had written, what do you need it for and Cas had written back, I just miss you. Dean had almost dropped his phone, then put it away and not looked at it until late that night. Yeah, it hadn’t been one of his best moments.

Finally he had managed to pull out the conversation again. He had typed and deleted miss you too and same and same, man about a thousand times and then ended up writing your turn now.

He remembered that Cas had been quick to reply with an even worse shot than the one he had sent. Some blurry picture he had taken under a streetlight, his face wearing an intense expression, as if he needed to focus to tap once on a screen. Still, Dean had looked at it for an hour before he had gone to sleep. What a sap.

Thinking of that photo reminded him of another one. He wondered if? It took a while to find it, but it was there, almost at the end of the gallery, right after a picture of Jody in a ridiculous sun hat from when they all went to the beach for the weekend.

It was there. Their first selfie together. He snorted out loud.

He had been pacing in the map room, cursing at his phone that was stuck with the camera open. He was trying everything and it just wouldn’t close.

Cas had come look over his shoulder while Dean had been furiously tapping, and that was when the screen had frozen and flashed and the result of that was a picture of the two of them from the most unflattering angle, frowning down at the phone. Two half faces, Dean on the right, Cas on the left. Dean thought it was hilarious.

Cas had said, “I think you took a picture,” because he was a great help as usual and Dean had said, “Yeah, no shit Cas,” and eventually had to restart the phone to make it work again.

He couldn’t believe that had happened more than two years ago.

“I’m done with the inventory of the herbs. Are you done in here?” said Cas, poking his head in from the hallway. Dean very obviously wasn’t done, but he was still smiling, so Cas said, “What is it?” and came to crouch beside him to peer at his phone and the infamous selfie, “Why did we take this?”

Dean laughed, “We didn’t. My phone was acting up.”

"And you kept it?"

"Yeah, of course I kept it," Dean said, tilting his phone away, as if Cas would jump him to delete it.

Cas had other priorities. He kissed his temple.

"Okay," he said amused, then, "Do you need help? Charlie is coming over in an hour to set up the - cables."

There were no cables. Cas clearly didn’t know what he was talking about, but Dean had no idea of what Charlie was supposed to do either, so.

"No, just - wait, let's take a picture," he said, grabbing his sleeve before he could get up. Cas settled once again next to him and Dean opened the camera and held his phone up, then got his other arm around Cas’ shoulders.

The light was not great, like anywhere else in the bunker and they looked exhausted after a day's work but still, not a bad sight, if Dean could say so himself.

He focused on Cas on the screen, the little smile on his lips.

He grinned. He was gonna spend the rest of his life with that face, he thought. Jesus.

"Dean?" Cas called, after another moment of nothing.

"Alright, alright," he said and snapped the picture.

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

#deancassummerprompts21 #deancas #deancas ficlet #fwf #as in finale? what finale?#i couldnt decide on what idea to focus on so i kept them all #incredibly on time for once #i just didn't want to edit it too much cause i like it????#yeah i know weird #it was fun #my writing

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hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

I know you don't usually write PRU stuff, but if you ever feel inclined, here's a ficlet idea! so: Newt is trying to fight off the Precursors by constantly reminding himself that He Is Human. but whenever newt thinks about what makes him Feel Human, the answer is always hermann. so newt starts conjuring up vivid mental images of hermann (doing mundane, hermann-y things) to ward off the Precursors. bonus point if, like, newt fondly remembering smth innocuous (like the scent of Hermann's chalk dust?) is enough to actually sever the alien mind control.

Anonymous asked: Maria!!! Would you ever write an angsty post uprising prompt? Or even a pre uprising? Anything with Newt fucking around with Kaiju and being sad i am HERE FOR 👏

in honor of the sequel’s 3 year anniversary, let’s try something a little different 👀 THIS ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME RE: LENGTH....I'll leave it up to interpretation whether or not the bonus is wholly fulfilled.... also on proofing this I realized it might need content warnings? so vague refs to disordered eating and alcohol drinking (ie, newt’s body is inhabited by aliens who forget how human stuff works)

-----------

Honestly, Newt’s life has been kind of a shitshow lately. He’s too, like, high strung. Too many responsibilities. Not enough hours in the day to get that shit done. He’s even higher strung than he was during the war, which is nuts, because certain doom was lurking around every corner. Maybe that’s why it’s not that nuts, though. The war was chaotic—and Newt’s fueled (or, used to be fueled?) by chaos. The kaiju were unpredictable. The kaiju didn’t run on a 9-5 schedule. The kaiju didn’t expect Newt to have three new jaeger prototypes on their desk by noon on a fucking Saturday, which is usually the day Newt spends two hours in his expensive bath tub and drinks a nice bottle of wine, and definitely not a day he wants to spend giving himself a stress migraine and shouting at underlings to make themselves useful. On top of that, his usual cafe got his coffee order wrong—when Newt had to run in to get it, himself, on a Saturday morning—and it only had half the espresso shots he really needs for the day. No wonder he’s going grey at forty. Fucking nightmare. Stable employment is exactly the kind of chaos that’s bad for Newt—give him the kaiju any day, thanks.

“Dr. Geiszler?”

Newt pushes his sunglasses up, and scowls at whichever one of his employees has dared to interrupt his catnap. The fluorescent overheads are brutal on his poor eyes right now. The lab needs more natural lighting. Maybe if he complains, they’ll knock out some walls in put in a few more windows. “Did you find any Aspirin?” he says.

Wordlessly, Newt’s assistant passes him a bottle. Newt pops the cap off and takes at least four. The coffee he washes it down with is cold. “How are the last simulations coming along?” he says, flicking his sunglasses back down. He seems to have so many migraines these days. It’s the contact lenses, he thinks—making the switch over from frames so late in the game. Screwing with his perceptions. Newt went thirty years with frames, after all. “We only have two hours before—”

“We’re almost done,” his assistant cuts in. “We’re working as fast as we can, Dr. Geiszler.”

“But are we gonna make the deadline?” Newt says.

She fidgets, and moves her clipboard to her other arm. “Well—we’ve had some—issues.”

Newt stands up with a long sigh. Double overtime, probably. Sunday lost to this shit too. That new bottle of wine waiting for him on his kitchen counter bought for nothing. “Gotta do everything myself, huh? Unbelievable.”

He follows his assistant over to the main lab down the hall, where his team of j-techs are hurrying around. Hardly anyone in proper lab attire—no labcoats—someone in sweatpants—Newt wasn’t the only one who had his Saturday ruined, probably. No one else is going grey, though. “What’s this shit?” he says, stopping in his tracks with one foot through the doorway. The high-tech holo-smartboards have been pushed aside, and instead, someone’s wheeled in a huge…chalkboard.

“Technical issues,” his assistant says. “The other floors are having the same problem—something in the new interface update that downloaded last night, we think. They’re all out of commission. Technology is working on it, but for now, we had to pull that out of deep storage.”

Two of his scientists are scrawling across the board quickly—one with white chalk, the other with pink. They’re debating something in hushed tones. Newt hasn’t seen a chalkboard in years. It doesn’t fit with Shao Industry’s whole chic, sleek, futuristic aesthetic. So—bulky. And messy. “Of course it would happen today of all days,” Newt sighs. The sight of it makes him feel odd, and he can’t seem to drag himself any further into the lab and any closer towards it.

His assistant says something. Newt doesn’t hear—he’s listening, instead, to the squeaking of chalk across the blackboard. So noisy and obnoxious. It reminds him of years and years ago, of working in a grimy little basement, of…

“—look it over. Dr. Geiszler?”

“Hm?” Newt says. It was like a layer of fog had begun to lift from his thoughts, but the interruption sends it rolling right back in.

“I said we’re ready for you to look it over. Only if you want too, of course,” she adds, nervously.

“Uh-huh,” Newt says.

Newt’s never had anyone fear him before, not like his employees seem to fear him—he’s not sure he likes it. His scientists shut up the second he looms over (well—under, Newt’s never loomed over anyone in his life) their shoulders to inspect their work so far. The squeaking stops. One of them lowers their piece of chalk. “Wait,” Newt says, too-loudly, surprising them and himself. They both look at him with the same nervousness as his assistant, like he’s about to start shouting or something. “Keep doing that.”

“Keep…?”

“Writing,” Newt says. “On the chalkboard.”

The scientist frowns at him. “Um, okay,” she says. “What am I supposed to write?”

“Anything,” Newt says. “Seriously. Anything.”

She hesitates.

“Anything,” Newt repeats.

She picks up the white chalk, and writes out her name, then doodles a few random pictures—a DNA helix, a flower, a cat face, a star. Newt shuts his eyes, and breathes in deeply. That smell. He snags the forgotten piece of pink chalk from the ledge. “Can I have this?” he says. He doesn’t wait for them to respond—though they both nod yes frantically, and bewilderedly—before writing out his own name on the board. Dr. Geiszler. It looks wrong, so he writes Newt beneath it. He shuts his eyes, and writes Newt again. Why does he feel like he’s done this sort of thing before? This thing is ancient—before his time at Shao—he wouldn’t have used it before they carted off to the basement. Newt, Newt, Newt Was Here,he writes, Newt +, and then he stops.

He opens his eyes. “Who’s Hermann?” his assistant says.

Newt + Hermann. Newt didn’t realize he wrote it. “Someone I knew,” he says, faintly. “Years ago. He was my—” He swallows. He feels strange. “My colleague?”

Strange. Dizzy. The Aspirin isn’t working. Definitely the contact lenses. He could afford laser eye surgery now, if he wanted, maybe he should look into it. He grips the ledge of the chalkboard, swaying, and grits his teeth; his two scientists back away from him slowly, no doubt worried he’s about to hurl all over their shoes. He might, to be honest. Newt + Hermann. Hermann was his colleague. Hermann was his— “Are you feeling okay, Dr. Geiszler?” his assistant asks. “You look…”

“Tell Shao I’m taking the rest of the day off,” Newt says.

“What?”

“You guys got this shit handled without me,” Newt says. He pockets the chalk. “I’m not—I’m not feeling myself. I think I need to go home and lie down. Seriously, you’ve got it under control—all these numbers look, uh, good, I trust you. If you guys don’t get it finished you can just tell Shao it’s my fault, okay?”

She gapes at him. “Uh,” she says. “Okay?”

Newt doesn’t go home. He goes to the nearest shop he can find instead, and makes a beeline for the art supplies aisle. Only a few boxes of chalk in stock. Four multicolored, two all-white, one yellow. He drops them all into his basket but the yellow, which he rips opens and immediately smells. Newt + Hermann. Hermann always smelled like chalk dust—he always had a fine layer of it on his clothing, patches of it on his blazer, his sweatervest, even on his undershirt. Newt used to tease him for that. He closes his eyes, and breathes in again. Funny—all those baths, all those bottles of wine, and this stupid little box of chalk is what’s finally making him feel calm for once. Quieting down his brain. He didn’t realize how loud it’d gotten in there. When Hermann would kiss Newt, he would sometimes stain Newt’s clothing with chalk, too, and Newt would pretend to be annoyed, but he never really was.

Someone is speaking to him. An employee. They’re staring at him, a cautious distance away, and Newt’s not sure what they’re saying.

His vision’s gone blurry—he didn’t realize he’d started crying, either. He wipes his eyes on the cuff of his blazer and sniffles. “Sorry,” he says. The box of yellow chalk is wet. “Um. Do you have any more of these in the back?”

He takes the bus home for the first time in years, one hand stuffed in his little brown shopping bag the whole time, wrapped around a box of chalk. When he gets back to his apartment (his big, lonely, apartment), he pulls out the only food in his fridge—some leftovers from a Shao Industries event three nights ago—and settles down on his big, lonely couch. He can’t stop thinking about Hermann. Five or so years, maybe more, not thinking about Hermann, and now suddenly—it’s like the floodgates have opened. He thinks about Hermann’s haircut. (Bad.) He thinks about Hermann’s smile. (Silly, and sweet.) He thinks about Hermann’s dumb accent, and the clack of Hermann’s cane on the floor, and Hermann’s chalk squeaking over his chalkboard, and how it felt when Hermann would wrap him in his arms and kiss him and whisper things to him. Hermann’s sweaters always smelled like mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Terrible combination.

Newt’s stomach growls. He’s finished the small bit of leftovers without realizing, and is apparently still hungry. He would kill for some sushi takeout right now. Or pizza, God. Yeah, it’d be screwing with his new diet and fitness plan—he casts a guilty glance over at his brand new exercise bike, which is gathering dust in the corner by his TV—but he’s tired of doing stupid kale and juice cleanses or whatever, just to please—well. He’s only human.

He is?

He walks up the stairs to his bathroom, and stares at himself in the mirror. Stupid vest. Stupid tie. Neat hair, clean-shaven cheeks, contact lenses. Newt’s only human. “I’m human,” he tells his reflection. Is he human? He felt human standing by that old chalkboard back in the lab, and holding that box of yellow chalk in the aisle of that little shop. He felt human when he was remembering things. Because of—Newt blinks at himself. Because of whom?

“Hermann,” he says, and smiles at the way the name makes him feel. He should text him, maybe.

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

“I must say,” Hermann says, “I was quite surprised when I received your dinner invitation. You’ve done a rather fine job of ignoring my calls as of late. I’d thought— Ah, thank you,” he adds, as Newt holds the door open for him. He steps into Newt’s apartment and cranes his neck around, squinting curiously, and then shoves a bottle of red wine at Newt’s chest. Hermann is much more personable than Newt remembers—what little Newt remembers—and he wonders if it’s age or something else. “I’ve been holding onto this one for a while. It’s the one you gave me as a part of a gift for my thirty-seventh birthday—you remember? Oh, but isn’t it so terrifically, er, modern in here.”

“Is it?” Newt says. He’s never given much thought to his apartment before, but he stares around at it now in mild interest. It is very chic, isn’t it? Monochrome. Impersonal. Not something Newt would’ve picked for himself. “Yeah, I had some interior decorators come in and do it for me.”

Hermann arches an eyebrow. “How…”

“Modern,” Newt offers. He puts the bottle of wine on his marble kitchen island. “Thanks for this, by the way, but I’ve actually been trying to cut back on the—” He bites back drinking. No need to alarm Hermann. “—Calories, so if it’s cool with you I’d rather not open it. I’m doing a, um, a new fitness program.”

“Ah,” Hermann says. “I suppose that explains that, then, doesn’t it?” He points at the dusty exercise bike. Newt watches his gaze move from that, to the barren leather couch, to the short staircase which leads to Newt’s shut bedroom door. Newt can practically see the gears working in his head. “Will—ah, what was their name, that little flight of fancy of yours—a dalliance, one might say—will they be, ah, joining the two of us?” He looks at Newt out of the corner of his eye. “Alice, was it?”

“Who?” Newt says, blankly.

Hermann breaks out in a broad grin, which he quickly tries, very badly, to turn into a sympathetic frown. He pats Newt’s arm. “There’s the spirit, then, Newton! All in the past, I presume? Hardly any use in dwelling on a broken heart. Then again—it’s not as if you were together long enough to warrant those sorts of dramatics, were you?” he says, cheerily. “What I mean is—certainly it wasn’t as if you had any sort of deep or emotional connection with—?—oh, I’ve forgotten the name again.”

“Uh,” Newt says. He’s not really sure who Hermann’s talking about, but just based on that fact alone, he would assume Hermann is right. “I guess not?”

“Precisely as I expected,” Hermann says, with a satisfied nod. “Rotten grounds for a relati—for a fling. You deserve far better, Newton.” Hermann touches Newt’s arm again, and this time, he doesn’t move his hand. It makes Newt’s skin prickle pleasantly. “You look well these days, though I admit it’s a bit of a shock to see you without your glasses,” Hermann continues, flicking his eyes up and down Newt twice. He lingers on Newt’s left hand, over the bare spot where—until this morning, when he suddenly realized how stupid it looked and yanked it off—he was wearing that Elvis ring. “Ending things must be treating you kindly. I don’t suppose I could dash to your loo?”

“Loo?” Newt says. “Oh, right. Yeah, it’s that door there, right off the living room.” He drops down onto the leather couch. “Knock yourself out. I’ll be right here.”

Hermann disappears into Newt’s bathroom, and comes back out three minutes later with combed hair, a straightened collar, and the vague smell of cologne. He’s tucking a small bottle into his top pocket. “I found a box of hair dye in your medicine cabinet,” he declares, smugly. “I knew there was no bloody way that was natural. Though I’m not surprised it fooled Alice.” He rests his cane against the glass coffee table and sits down next to Newt. Right next to Newt. The whole sofa to pick from, and he’d rather their thighs touch. Newt doesn’t mind—actually, the contact is strangely grounding, like Hermann’s hand on his arm had been earlier. He’s here, in his living room, with Hermann, his friend Hermann, his colleague Hermann, his—well, question mark—Hermann.

“Hermann, can I ask you something?” he says. “Something important?”

“By all means,” Hermann says, leaning in and fluttering his eyelashes. Even over the cologne, Newt can still make out that mothball-chalk-smoke smell.

“Do you take your coffee with sugar?” he says.

Hermann laughs. “Do I—what?”

Newt repeats the question. The smile slips off Hermann’s face, and he draws away, furrowing his eyebrows. “Well,” he says, “yes, usually, only I’m not sure what—”

“Sugar, and some milk,” Newt says. “It was the same with your tea. And you had a mug that you would use—you wouldn’t use any other. It was blue, and it said—” He exhales through his nose. “It said TU Berlin. That’s where you got your PhD.”

After Newt sent Hermann a text about dinner last night, he sat down with a pen and pad of paper and made a list of everything he could remember about Hermann. He started with what Hermann looks like, and who Hermann is, and then moved into the harder stuff like what Hermann likes and the sort of things Hermann used to do. He stayed up all night doing it, until his hand cramped and his head hurt even more than it had that morning, and then recited it over and over to himself in a whisper as he fell asleep. Hermann has brown eyes. Hermann likes blackberry jam on his toast. Hermann wears little glasses on a chain. Hermann uses a cane with a tiny little nick in the brass of the handle. The list is in his pocket now; it makes Newt feel calm, and even calmer when he reaches into his pocket and touches it. He exhales again, hard, and then inhales. “We were together,” he says. “When we closed the Breach, you told me you loved me.”

“I did,” Hermann says, quietly.

“I said it back,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

Slowly, Newt reaches out and puts his hand over Hermann’s. Hermann makes a strange noise in the back of his throat—like a sigh, or maybe a groan. His pulse twitches erratically under Newt’s fingertips. “I bought chalk,” Newt says.

“You—” Hermann echoes, his voice choked. “You bought chalk?”

“It reminded me of you,” Newt says.

He’s not surprised when Hermann kisses him, but he is surprised at his knee-jerk reaction: to pull away, or push Hermann away, and to order him to get out of his apartment. He’s surprised, because those aren’t his thoughts. He doesn’t want Hermann to leave—he wants Hermann to stay longer, and kiss him more, and help him remember more. “Oh, Newton,” Hermann says. “Newton, Newton—” He moves his mouth to Newt’s neck, kissing, breathing, and whispering his name, and Newt shuts his eyes and forces himself to remember his list.

“Tell me things about you,” Newt begs. “I want to remember you.”

Hermann’s laughter, hesitant and confused, comes out in a puff of hot air against his skin. “Remember me?” he says. “I’m not sure— Are we not a bit—?”

“Hermann,” Newt says.

He grips the back of Hermann’s sweater, digging his nails in Hermann’s skin through the layers of fabric. Hermann must hear the urgency in his voice, because he shakes his head with another laugh, kisses Newt’s jaw, and says, “Well, alright. What am I even meant to tell you?”

“Your favorite color,” Newt says. Hermann kisses his chin. “Your favorite song. No, wait—” He nudges Hermann away from him, just enough so that Hermann can see him smile. “Tell me what you like about me.”

“Feeling rather egotistical tonight, aren’t we?” Hermann teases. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the side of Newt’s hair. One of the spots Newt dyed—it was too grey. He catches Hermann’s hand by the wrist and pulls it away gently, but only to press himself up against Hermann’s chest instead. He can feel Hermann’s heartbeat. “I like—hm,” Hermann says. “I like your stubbornness. I like your passion. I like…”

His voice vibrates in his throat—Newt can feel that, too. He listens.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #if Alice was a real person her picture would be on Hermann's dartboard #it probably is anyway #Anonymous

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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Text

Beach Day Imagine

alright I give up on trying to find a header for this one, there are no nice pictures of Abby with short hair.

anonymous said: I have a request for a beach day imagine? It could be after the end of the game, just a nice day on the beach heh :)!

This is set after the end of tlou2, Abby and Lev have arrived at the Firefly base on Catalina Island and the reader has gotten to know them over the last weeks. Today they’re taking the two newly healed outsiders to the beach.

This is the first thing I’ve written in a while so I apologize if I’m not fully back in my best form, feedback is very welcome!

Warnings: light swearing, pushing someone under water playfully, mention of injury by being crushed under something heavy (ask to tag!)

about 5.6k words of pure fluff :)

“Hey, look what I got!”

You looked up from the gas canister you were currently using to fill up a truck’s tank and felt a warm rush of happiness fill your chest. Lev had just entered the garage and was holding out a red backpack.

“The teacher gave it to me so I finally have my own. And it’s even my favorite color!”

You stopped pouring the gasoline and screwed the lid back on the canister.

“Hey, you. So what are you bringing in your new backpack, then?”

The scrawny boy jumped on the back of the truck and crouched down, flipping the bag over and dumping its contents on the platform. With quick fingers, he arranged all the items to lie in a neat line, tapping them as he listed: “Water bottle, sandwich, apple, lighter, knife, towel, swimming trunks. Abby said not to take the bow because it’s a secure area.”

You nodded. “Good job, you’re fully equipped.” Catalina Island was a completely safe zone, the Fireflies had made sure of that. During the last few years, patrol teams had combed through the entire island killing infected and now anyone coming in from the mainland had to spend two days in quarantine to ensure their health. Carrying around a knife or gun at all times was just a habit none of the people who had ever fought infected or other groups would ever let go of.

“Lev? You in here?” Lev had been concentrating on putting all his supplies back into the backpack and you both jerked up when you heard the familiar voice in the corridor. It had been weeks and she still had the same effect on you. The tall blonde stepped through the doorway and your breath caught in your throat. She was wearing green cargo pants and black combat boots as always, but you could see the blue fabric of a swimsuit peeking out at the neckline of her grey t-shirt.

“Oh hey, there you are. Are we ready to go?”

“Your hair!” you exclaimed, in awe at the beautiful freckled face that was looking at you with excitement. Abby smiled and instinctively rubbed the back of her head that was now cut short. When she and Lev had arrived three weeks ago, they had looked horrible, dehydrated and full of bruises and cuts, their faces marked by the sun and the pain they had had to endure. Abby hadn’t said a word about her obviously violently cut hair but Lev had told you that she had always worn it in a long braid before the rattlers captured them. You tried to imagine her with long hair but it just didn’t seem fitting for the woman standing before you.

“I got it done today, Mario is a saint. Do you like it?”

Lev squinted at her for a moment, then he solemnly said: “It suits you very well.”

She had apparently finally gotten around to visiting your colleague, another mechanic who also worked at a barber on the side. Most men and some women just pragmatically shaved their heads themselves, but there were always a few people who wanted something more complicated. When Mario had visited you at the medical station after your accident and gotten to know your two new roommates, he had immediately offered his services if they ever wanted a haircut. Lev had declined, explaining that he always shaved his head himself, but Abby had thanked him and promised to come around when she was allowed to leave medical.

You smiled at her and before you could stop yourself you blurted out “You look hot.”

The blonde laughed and even though you felt yourself blushing, you knew you had said the right thing. She really did look hot. Mario had shaved her sides short and fluffed up the top, letting a few strands fall into her face. You wanted to reach out and gently brush them back, but you stopped yourself and snapped out of your daydream.

“Okay, my bag’s already in the front. You all set?”

Abby nodded and put her backpack on the back of the truck, positioning herself to jump on.

“Wait, can I sit in the back? I’ll be careful, I promise. I’d just really like to see what it feels like,” Lev pleaded. You looked at Abby who just rolled her eyes and grinned.

“Alright, kid. But no standing up, and if it gets bumpy you hold on tight!”

She squeezed the boy’s shoulder and grabbed her bag, circling around the back of the car to get into the passenger seat. Lev gracefully jumped in the back and closed the hatch, looking at you with a glint in his eye you had never seen on him before. For the first time since the two had arrived here, he seemed genuinely happy and excited.

You sat down in the driver’s seat and started the truck, maneuvering out of the parked cars around you and giving the porter a signal to open the garage door. Your hand still felt weak and fragile as you switched gears and drove through the two front gates or the base, absentmindedly clenching your fist and stretching out your fingers to get rid of the sensation.

In the corner of your eye, you could see Abby giving you a slightly worried look.

“You okay there? I can drive, too, if you want me to.”

You bit your lip in frustration and shook your head.

“Thanks, Abby. I just need to get used to using this stupid hand again.”

The blonde rolled down her window and let in the salty breeze, leaning her head against the frame and closing her eyes as the sun kissed her face.

“Alright. Just let me know.”

Turning onto the road down to the beach, you sighed and tried to let go of all of your anger and discontent with one long exhale. It would get you nowhere.

You had been lying underneath a car to fix some spots that had rusted through when your lifting jacks had made a weird noise. Even though you had been quick to try and slip out from under the car, you hadn’t been fast enough. The wheels had been taken off to change the tires and as the jacks collapsed, the side of the vehicle crushed your arm, your ribs and left you with internal bleeding.

It had been no one's fault, just a terrible misfortune. After undergoing several surgeries and spending four weeks in a hospital bed, two battered strangers had been carried in and kept you company for the next few days.

The WLF soldier also had a few broken ribs, several cuts and stab wounds. Other than a few bruises, dehydration and the extreme sunburn they had both suffered, the small Seraphite was surprisingly well off, and while you two older women had been laying around in your own misery, he had started trying to cheer you up, help your recovery and motivate you to look forward to the days to come.

Both of you had started carefully training your injured limbs again and encouraged each other on the tiresome, difficult journey back to health while Lev had explored the base, made some friends and working with a trainer to teach others how to shoot with a bow and arrow. Now that you were finally out of the medical wing and able to move without being in excruciating pain, you had decided to take the two out for a deserved day off.

You rolled your window down and inhaled the fresh sea breeze, immediately smelling the salt and hot sand, the earthy aroma of the bushes lining the road and the sun warming up the air and promising you a wonderful day. Without thinking, you let out a scream of joy and laughed into the wind that pulled on your hair and invited you to play. You turned to beam at Abby, who looked amused and a little surprised. Before you could say anything, you heard an attempted wolf howl from the back of the truck and looked in the rearview mirror. Lev was kneeling in the middle of the platform, his head thrown back and his hands at his mouth to amplify his cries. He took a big breath and howled a second time, laughing afterward and stretching out his arms to the side.

A small noise drew your attention back to your passenger. Abby was looking out of the window and her torso was shaking slightly. For a split second, you thought she was crying, but then her little chuckle grew into loud laughter and she whooped, also stretching out her arm and making wave motions with her hand.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re amazing! This is amazing!”

She looked at you, eyes wide with excitement and a grin stretching across her entire face. You felt like your heart was going to explode. This really was amazing. You took another turn and there it was: the sea. Blue and wild, sparkling like millions of diamonds and dancing in the sun, calling out for you and inviting you to jump into the waves and join the celebration.

You decided to just drive down all the way onto the sand; the truck was made for the terrain and there was no reason to walk if you could just drive up to the perfect spot.

“Lev,” you yelled, “wanna choose a good spot?”

“Yes,” he screamed back, “over there by the palm tree?”

“Got it, boss!” You geared down and drove onto the sand, carefully testing the terrain. The car seemed to have no problem with the ground and you pressed down the gas, whirling up the sand behind you and making Lev scream with excitement. You came to a halt next to a sturdy palm tree and the boy had jumped off the back before you had stopped the engine.

He had taken off his shoes and immediately started hopping to the patch of shade, cursing about the hot sand and letting himself fall onto the cool safe haven provided by the tree. Abby laughed and got out herself, opening her backpack and throwing him a big blanket.

“Here, make yourself useful.”

Lev jumped up and started stretching out the fabric to make room for everyone, then he unpacked his towel and swimming trunks. You grabbed your bag and went over to the two of them, putting your towel down and stopping in your tracks when Abby suddenly pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a sporty blue bikini top. Her abs had practically exploded in only a week; the last time you had seen her stomach had been when she had gotten rid of the hospital gown and announced she was going back to training. Her skin was ivory, a ton of freckles spreading over her shoulders and arms. There were still a few bruises on her ribcage, already yellow and almost completely faded, and her upper arm was marked with a fresh, pink scar.

“What are you staring at? Don’t you wanna go swimming with us?”

Abby laughed at you and hopped around as she tried to take off her tight pants without falling over. You shook your head to get your brain running again and side-eyed her, trying to hide a grin.

“Sorry. You’ve already built so much muscle, it’s amazing.”

The blonde looked down and lightly slapped her stomach.

“Thanks, must be the food here. I’m getting back on track.”

You had already slid out of your pants and quickly took off your shirt now, a little shy about your black bathing suit. But there was no need to worry, now it was Abby’s turn to stare. Her mouth was slightly ajar as she looked you up and down, her hand hovering about her abs as if she had frozen for a second. Finally, she snapped out of her admiration and raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, without the bandages and all.”

While you two had been busy drooling over each other, Lev had already changed into his swimming trunks and now seemed to be calculating how many steps it would take to get to the water and cool his burnt feet.

Abby stepped closer to you.

“You ready, Lev? Bet I can beat you both to the water.”

The boy didn’t hesitate one second. He started like lightning, his red pants blown up by the wind as he yelled “ouch, fuck, ow,” trying to lengthen his jumps. Abby winked at you, then she started sprinting after him.

“Come on, Y/N!”

You quickly took off your socks and ran after them, loosening your ponytail and enjoying the feeling of the warm, soft hair dancing on your skin. Lev had beat Abby and was squealing as he jumped into the waves. The ex-WLF reached him a few seconds later, running into the sea and immediately diving under just to come up again with a scream of joy. She opened her arms as you came running towards her, cursing the hot sand and ready to tackle the blonde with full force.

She turned to the side and dodged your blow at the last second, letting you crash into the waves and jumping on top of you, pushing you under the surface for a second before pulling you up and blowing a mouthful of water into your face. You gasped for air as the two laughed at you, already plotting your revenge.

You slapped Abby’s shoulder but her rock-hard muscles easily took the hit. She raised her eyebrows at you and gave your shoulder a seemingly light push that made you topple back into the water. How was she so fucking strong?! You let yourself float on your back for a second, then you dove under and grabbed the surprised soldier by the ankles, digging your fingernails into her skin and pulling her feet out from under her. Pushing off the sand with your feet, you dragged her legs with you so she was pulled underwater. She managed to free herself and you both came up at the same time, laughing and coughing.

“That’s what you get, shark,” you grinned at her.

“Wait, are there sharks here?” A half-panicky, half-excited voice from further out told you that Lev had swum quite a bit and was now suddenly overcome by the realization that you three weren’t the only ones in the sea.

“Yeah, big ones,” Abby yelled, “you better watch out.”

She winked at you, then she took a deep breath and dove in Lev’s direction, who was facing the opposite direction and didn’t notice the big figure swimming towards him. As expected, he suddenly shrieked, started flailing his arms and fought with something that was pulling him under. When he realized what was going on, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing as he yelled Abby’s name over and over, trying to get her off. Her head broke the surface next to him and she shook her head, water spraying in all directions as her hair danced in the sun.

She was roaring with laughter and held out an arm for Lev to hold on to while he caught his breath.

“Believe me, kid, as much as you love them, you don’t wanna meet sharks face to face.”

He sighed and turned to look at the open water.

“I know. Maybe we can drive out with a boat sometime and try to see them.”

Abby rubbed his shaved head.

“You are unbelievably okay with danger, young man.”

He smiled at her with so much love and admiration in his eyes it made your heart feel like it was going to explode. These two had found each other. You slowly swam towards them and turned on your back again to float, Lev immediately copying you and looking at Abby to do the same.

“We shouldn’t be in the sun for too long, you two are still not fully healed.”

Abby groaned and splashed some water in your direction.

“Let me just have this for a moment, please.”

You felt a twist in your stomach. She had just been having fun for the first time in forever and you had to ruin it by reminding her of what she had been through. Why couldn’t you just shut up and let her be? You turned to look at her and were surprised to see her smiling at you, nothing but warmth and appreciation in her face.

“You’re right, Y/N, I know that. Thank you for taking us here and worrying about us.”

Lev had his eyes closed, but he nodded and mumbled something in approval.

“Come on.” Abby lightly tapped your arm and nodded in the direction of the beach.

“Let’s head back.”

“Can I stay here a little longer?” Lev sounded far away, completely at peace as he soaked up the sun and the salty air.

“Of course, but make sure you don’t swim further out, okay?”

The boy just hummed happily. Both of you didn’t say a word as you and Abby swam back, your mind spinning faster again as she took her last steps out of the water in front of you. Droplets were running down the back of her neck, the curves of her back muscles, butt, and thighs highlighted by the reflections of sunlight on the wet skin.

She turned around and absentmindedly slicked her dripping hair back, showing off her biceps and abs as she stretched and waited for you to come out of the water.

“You think the sand is gonna be less painful under wet feet?”

You stumbled out of the waves with little elegance but managed to stay standing up as a wave crashed around your calves.

“I don’t know, I think we should make a run for it.”

“Fair,” she nodded and held out her hand. “You ready?”

Ignoring the jump in your chest, you took her hand and she held yours tight, encasing it completely with her cool fingers.

“Let’s go!” Both of you started running, squealing and laughing as the sand burned your soles once more. You almost fell several times but Abby’s steel grip caught and held you up every time. Slightly out of breath, both of you reached the shade of the palm tree and let yourselves fall on the towels. Abby still hadn’t let go of your hand and you tried to hold your fingers completely still so she wouldn’t notice and let go.

You were both lying on your backs next to each other, panting and looking up at the green branches above you dancing gently in the sea breeze. Watching Abby out of the corner of your eye, you promised yourself you would always remember this moment. The heat of the sun peeking through the branches, the last drops of saltwater running down your torso, the stickiness of your skin as it dried and left behind tiny salt crystals, the rushing of the waves and the cries of the seagulls. The beautiful blonde next to you, her chest moving with every breath, the little specks of sunlight on her face and her mouth, slightly open as she looked at the sky, deep in thought.

It felt like this was the first day of your life, like you had been somewhere else every day before, somewhere grey and bitter and hard with little joy and too many worries. You never knew life could feel like this, like riding a wave, like soaring through the summer air, easy laughter, and warm touches. You were free.

You suddenly noticed that Abby had turned her head to face you, her eyes burning into your skin like the salt that was prickling your cheek with tiny needles. Holding your breath, you slowly turned towards her and were immediately pulled in by her gaze.

This woman had been by your side almost constantly for three weeks and you had known for a while. What you felt for her was deeper than any connection you had ever had with anyone. She understood you without words and she was never too much for you, as others often were. The blonde made your heart skip beats and your brain often stopped working when she was around, but you still wanted to be by her side every possible second. Through all the pain and trauma and all the terrible things that had happened, you two always found something to laugh about and a way to forget everything for a while, just enjoying each other’s company.

As you finally released the air from your lungs, you could hear the shakiness in your breath and the rush of your own blood in your ears. It was so loud that you were sure Abby could hear it, too. Your fingers twitched slightly and she immediately tightened her fingers around yours. Slowly, her eyes wandered to your lips and now it was you that could hear her breath catch up in her throat. The distance between your faces was small, maybe a hand’s width, but it felt like miles. It was the feeling before doing a handstand or jumping off a high platform, a move you had seen others do countless times but felt impossible to you, like an invisible wall in your chest stopping your breath and movement at the same time.

Abby softly ran her thumb over yours, her hazel-green eyes piercing yours. Your racing thoughts came to a halt. You could count every freckle on her face, every tiny salt crystal on her lashes, the faded scars from past battles. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

Just as she lifted her head ever so slightly to move even closer, there were distant thumps on the sand and you could hear Lev crying out in a mix of joy and pain. You expected Abby to snap back and let go of your hand, but instead she just smiled, sat up and yelled: “Come here, quickly! You don’t want me to have roasted children’s feet for dinner, do you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lev speeding up towards you.

“I’m not a child, Abby!”

He came to a halt in front of Abby, quickly glancing at your intertwined fingers before frowning at her. She patted the towel next to her.

“Alright then, sir. Come sit with us, we’re currently being hypnotized by the palm branches.”

“What’s hypnotized?” he asked as he let himself flop on the towel.

“Lay down and you’ll see,” Abby said as she lifted her free arm and rested her head on her hand, staring up at the sky again.

“It’s the feeling of watching something - or someone - and completely getting lost in what you see. Your head gets all quiet and you’re willing to do anything the person hypnotizing you says.”

Her thumb was drawing circles on the back of your hand.

Lev let out a big breath as he solemnly folded his hands over his stomach and looked up at the leaves waving back and forth.

You all lay there for a while, not speaking, just soaking in each other’s presence and the untainted beauty of the world in this very moment. Abby’s touch sent electrical waves through your arm right into your heart, filling your chest with liquid gold and having you fight down an ecstatic squeal of happiness. Did this mean she actually felt the same way?

In the midst of all the joy you felt in that moment, there was a tiny voice in your head telling you that this was just an exceptional situation and things would go back to the way they were once you returned. Abby liked you, that much you were sure of, but was she really willing to go a step further and open up to you like that? Trust someone with that kind of vulnerability?

You swallowed hard, trying to fight down the tiny storm of panic brewing in your throat. There was absolutely no reason to ruin this moment for yourself. You let go of Abby’s hand to prop yourself up on your elbow, turning your body towards her.

There was confusion in her eyes and a slightly worried look.

“Everything okay?” she whispered.

Looking up over her shoulder, you saw that Lev had fallen asleep. He looked like a little vampire, pale from the lack of sunlight on his newly recovered skin over the last weeks, lying stone still in a perfectly straight line with his hands still folded.

You lay back down just a little bit closer to Abby than before, this time facing her completely. You could feel her breath on your lips and couldn’t stop yourself from raising a hand to push a strand of hair out of her face. She closed her eyes for a second at your touch, then she leaned into your hand. You cupped her cheek, drawing your thumb over her cheek and her bottom lip.

“More than okay,” you breathed as you ran your fingers through her hair and down the back of her neck, making her shiver despite the heat.

Slowly this time, you sat up and whispered “Come with me.”

Both of you stood up and now it was you that held out a hand. The Firefly took it and you both hurried towards the water again, trying not to be too loud and wake up the boy in your care.

Finally on wet sand, you sat down and pulled Abby down with you as the water lapped at your ankles.

You took a deep breath, glancing at the blonde’s questioning look and quickly looking down at your feet.

“I’m so glad we finally got out of the base and came out here. You guys haven’t even seen all the beautiful places on Catalina. We could do this more often, I know my way around the Island.”

Abby drew circles in the sand, the tracks of her fingers immediately washed away by every new wave. Squinting against the sun, she softly said: “Yes, I’d like that. It really is beautiful here.”

Your heart was pounding again. What were you thinking, taking her away alone without even knowing what to say? She was obviously waiting for you to tell her something Lev shouldn’t hear. You wanted so badly just to tell her how you felt, but your head was just completely devoid of words.

She had mercy with you. “Where else would you like to take me?”

Her? Alone? You bit your lip, trying frantically to come up with something good.

“There is a bay called Little Harbor, the water is bright turquoise and it’s on the west coast, so you get some amazing sunsets there. There’s a hunting cabin there, too, back from when we hadn’t fully secured the island yet. I could get a friend in admin to give us a check-up mission, let us check the electricity and stock up the hut. Only if you’d want to, of course.”

Abby nodded. “That sounds amazing. I’m cleared for missions starting next Monday, I need to start doing my part anyways. We could go whenever it fits your schedule.”

You smiled at her. “Great. I’ll let my friend know.”

“Are we going to stay there overnight, then?”

You could hear the amusement in her voice. She knew she was making you all flustered and nervous and was just teasing you now so you elbowed her, stifling a laugh.

“It could be arranged.”

She placed her hand on your knee, looking at you to catch your reaction. You couldn’t help but blush and pressed your lips together, trying to hold it together.

“Y/N.”

Her face was now directly next to yours, her breath warm on your cheek again. It took everything in your power to turn your head and look her directly in the eye. Well, you tried to, but her eyes were on your lips again, her tongue quickly running over her bottom lip only to disappear again.

And finally, after weeks of uncertainty, of pining and yearning and trying to get her out of your head, she grabbed the back of your neck and gently pulled you in. Her lips were incredibly soft, cushioning your movement as you pressed your mouth on hers, desperately trying to stay in this moment forever. She tasted like the sea, but her warm skin still smelled like the forest. It always did.

You leaned into her, deepening the kiss as she put her arm around your shoulders and ran her hand over your thigh. Nothing had ever felt better than this.

The blonde pulled away slightly, peeking at you through long eyelashes and licking her lips again.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” she confessed, never releasing your gaze.

“Me too,” was all you got out under your shaky breath before she kissed you again, sweet and smiling, placing tiny kisses on your cheeks and jawline before moving up to graze her lips over your nose and forehead.

“I’m so lucky,” she mumbled against your temple. “After everything Lev and I have been through and of all the places in the world…”

She wasn’t the type to speak much about her feelings and this was probably the most you would get from her for now, but it was more than enough for you to understand. You rested your head on her shoulder as you both stared out to the open water.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before.” It felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. You knew this was a lot to reveal, but you trusted Abby to not get scared away easily.

“You know, Lev is going to be so relieved.” Abby snorted and turned around to see if there was any movement in your little camp, but the little Seraphite seemed to still be enjoying his afternoon nap.

Your brows almost hit your hairline. “You’re gonna tell him right away?”

She laughed and slapped your thigh before tightening her grip around it.

“Sure, he’s been listening to me debating my next step for the last week. He was so excited for today because he thought you’d make a move.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“He has zero faith in me, you know. He knows I easily face any kind of danger and I always win my fights, but he thought I didn’t have the guts to kiss you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, Miss Warrior, you’re the toughest. I remember Lev telling me something about crane bridges?”

She acted shocked. “I trust him with all my secrets and he just goes and tells you about them? What a little brat.”

You both had to laugh; it was clear that no one loved Lev more than Abby and no one could ever really be angry with him.

“No seriously, I tell him everything. He’s all I got left.” She looked down and smiled to herself, no bitterness or sadness in her voice but a deep appreciation and nothing but love for her partner through thick and thin.

Her last sentence stung a little, but you knew it was going to be a while before Abby would know just how much she could count on you to be there for her. Trust had to be earned.

You spent the rest of your day in the shade with Lev, eating the fruit you had brought, playing cards, reading, and stealing kisses while the boy went for another swim in the ocean. Lev was sad you couldn’t light a bonfire as it got dark, but you had to get back in time for dinner.

Both you and Abby promised him another beach day with stick bread at the campfire as soon as you both found the time again. Meanwhile, he could try to find some friends to come along.

As you packed up your things, the sun was setting behind the green hills of the island and painting the sky pink, orange and purple, delivering a spectacle almost as wonderful as the one going on inside you.

Lev jumped on the back of the truck without asking this time and both of you got in the front. The drive was quiet, all of you deep in thought, reminiscing about the day you had had.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Abby said, playing with a strand of your hair. The windows were rolled down and the cool evening air was dancing through the cabin, filling your lungs and clearing your mind.

“You’re very welcome.”

“I can’t wait for our cabin trip. A sunset just for the two of us,” she remarked, looking at you from the side.

Finally back on the main road, you placed your hand on her thigh. You had wanted this for so long and now you would do everything in your power to win Abby’s heart entirely.

“When do I see you again?” you asked, scared to hear the answer.

“Tomorrow morning? You could pick me up from the gym for breakfast if you want. I’d offer to train with you but I think your doctors would feed me to the sharks.”

You laughed at the thought; it had taken forever to convince the medical staff to let you go today. It was going to be a few more weeks of physiotherapy to get your body back on track.

“Okay. I’m pretty sure they’re making pancakes tomorrow. A commander’s birthday, I think. Pick you up at 8?”

She placed her hand on top of yours and squeezed it.

“I’ll be waiting.”

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