#but yeah anyway ive been Thinking about the employees' side of things a lot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fuck-customers · 3 years

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(tw ableism, racism)

i never complained about this guy on here but i finally talked to the store lead about this awful guy i work with! said guy, we'll call him don which of course isnt his actual name, is so annoying. for the record, i helped train him, so its not like he's been here for long time. less than a year. anyway, don thinks he's smarter and better than everyone else. he knows everything and everyone else is wrong if they disagree with what he's saying. he's always talking about people behind their backs, and complaining about how no one does their job right, but i guess he does. he's also always spewing some bs about "you should work for satisfaction not money" (girl why are you here then? you hate this job) and "if you really want something you'll get it because you'll do anything for it" and other classist bullshit.

he'll complain about two of our coworkers specifically, who we'll call gina and ben. gina is an older woman, and don is always talking about how she leaves the register to make coffee every hour (gas station, coffee is made every two hours or as needed) and is always away doing something even if there's a line. he also has made some weird comments about the old men who come in and talk to her. he talks about ben the most though, saying he doesnt do anything, he's always disappearing (which, yeah, he does sometimes, but usually i can track him down because i know what he's doing) and calling off (which he used to do, but now he calls off only occasionally, and is definitely not the worst offender in terms of calling off all the time). its also worth noting that ben and gina have been here for years, through multiple managers and store leads and rounds of employees. now, when don and i are at the register, don is usually occupied with stocking cigarettes and the other nicotine products up there, and its nice to have that stuff done, but that means i am the only one ringing people out. even if theres a line. so if someone else leaves him alone at the register, its a problem, but if he leaves me alone, its fine. another thing about ben he doesnt like is his tattoos. ben is a young guy with a ton of tattoos, including face tattoos, and some piercings. don doesn't like that. he was talking about this the other day to me, and he was saying how "businesss shouldn't hire people with tattoos, i wouldn't" (when I told the store lead he said "but there are professionals with tattoos?"), and first off, this is a gas station honey. what i said to don was, "I don't know, I still think those people deserve to eat." he replies, "I don't." i don't know what to say to that.

he also doesn't like me I don't think. we were talking about stuff we have to do, and got on the topic of outside trash, and I said, "Yeah, if I could do outside trash I would, but because of my hand I can't lift the pump trash lids." i have an ongoing issue with my left hand that we think is tendonitis but we aren't sure, and basically i can't put any pressure on any part of my thumb/that part of my palm. to lift the pump trash lids, you have to push inward on the sides with your palm and lift up. obviously i cant do that. but i can lift propane tanks because that's mostly on my fingers. he tells me, "man, i wish i had a brace i could just put in when i didn't want to do something."

my man the other day i sat down on the floor to look for something and i thought it was healed but as soon as i leaned on it i fell because of how much it hurt. I've tried to do pump trash with it, it made it worse.

going back in time, he said something to me that i didn't think much of at the time. he looked up and saod "that's who you remind me of!" and said my voice sounded like his ex girlfriend's. at first i was like okay. whatever. but he mentioned it again later in a way that infuriated me and im about to tell you why.

so, he was going off about "how you should only eat between these times of the day" (directed at me because i mentioned my breakfast that morning? my dude i get up at six for this shift.) and then going off about circadian rhythms and how theres a single set one (which is not true!) and i mentioned that one if the symptoms of adhd is having a circadian rhythm thats out of sync (he knows i have adhd). and then he starts going off about how "no its not, tell me that when its in a medical book" (girl? maybe look at one that isnt outdated) and then that adhd is overdiagnosed (untrue and also a googleable statistic) and pretty much implying that i was just saying i had it to be special and not have to do things, which infuriated me because thats what everyone says about it and what ive been told my whole life, to the point my mom literally had to threaten several schools with legal action because they would not follow my IEP, and then when i said "hey, I'm the one living with this, you aren't," he said "kelly! kelly! you sound so much like her! you're just kelly to me!"

obviously that's kind of a fucked up thing to say.

some other things i hate about this man is that he gets really aggressive when he's frustrated. one day he started slamming things down as he was stocking. he even does it in front of customers! also, as a cherry on top, he was talking to our coworker, and found out she had a lot of black friends, and called her a [n word] lover.

i also know that im not the only person who has problems with him. literally no one likes him. he's always complaining that someone else isnt doing their job right and "if *I* were the manager" and stuff like that. it might be worth mentioning that i only complained because someone suggested i do. i was just going to tough it out for a while since im going back to school soon and will only be dealing with him once a month

one of my coworkers gave me her number if i ever wanted to talk about it, and the store lead said he would try to talk to him (without mentioning me), and this definitely wasn't okay for him to be doing, so we'll see how this goes. also, i think the store lead kept me in the office talking with him (about school and the pandemic and other stuff) for an hour ish so that i wouldn't have to deal with him, since don leaves after an hour of me being there during the week (but we have six hours together on the weekend) so that was nice.

sorry for the long ask. tldr this guys just an all around asshole who doesnt shut up and thinks he's superior to everyone else but my other coworkers are nice people

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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How would you describe the relationship between each respective goggleboy and 'rival'? Ive seen different interpretations but im curious what you think! Not to mention that the fans are sometimes arguing over who the 'rival' actually is, like with Daisuke where some people say its Ken and others say its Takeru. (I dont think there are actual rivals in the show, except for maybe Manga!Kiriha who outright says he will be just that with Taiki.)

One thing to keep in mind is that the word "rival" has kind of integrated itself into anime lingo as a full-on English loanword, so it comes from expectations of anime tropes more than anything. While even official staff has used that word in talking about Digimon, as you say, it never really fit to begin with, because not only has Digimon TV anime never been a particularly conventional shounen series in many ways, that term was also mostly coined in light of series where that term made a lot more sense. As in, they were more likely to be actually competing over something (in sports, or something tournament-based like card games); in that sense, a "rival" would be someone who might be antagonistic by being on the other side of the field, but would have a mutually positive relationship with the other person overall because the competitiveness would keep both of them on their toes and allow both of them to improve together. Digimon is not the first time this term has started getting overapplied to contexts where it doesn't really fit at all (it's been going on in Super Sentai for years), so people generally have a greater perception of it broadly meaning "two characters who have differing opinions on how something should be done due to their differing personalities, and sometimes fight over it", but in Digimon especially, it really does seem like trying to smash a square peg into a round hole.

The short answer: Xros Wars is probably the only one you can make a real argument for.

The long answer, in detail:

Adventure: I cannot emphasize enough that Adventure, being a series that was really big on that whole trope subversion thing, is a series that casts the trope of "rivalry" as "getting in a lot of fights" as a bad thing -- it's actually pretty unsubtle about it, because the word "rival" itself is explicitly used in Adventure episode 44, by Jureimon trying to manipulate Yamato. Or, in other words, "hey, if you saw someone who's supposed to be your supportive friend as someone you had to constantly compete against for no good reason, wouldn't that be really messed up?" Adventure does not even bother with or remotely believe in the idea that fighting somehow is a sign of how good friends you are, at least, not as long as that fighting is a sign of genuine hostility and refusal to communicate (which is why Yamato punching Taichi in 02 doesn't count). Every time Taichi and Yamato got in a fight back in Adventure, it was heated and ugly, and everyone in their presence was horrified, and once they sorted out their issues in Adventure, their appearances in 02 and Kizuna involved properly talking things out and making an active attempt to understand each other's feelings. There's a bit of bickering between them due to said opposing personalities, but it's never over anything serious (see the contrast in Kizuna between them having a bit of a minor row at the beginning, but high-fiving right after and spending the rest of the movie practically counseling each other).

02: Straight-up does not exist. Daisuke may have seen Takeru in that way due to the Hikari issue at first, but he was really running in circles getting absolutely nowhere about it, Takeru was mostly like "okay, you have fun with that," their only major argument about anything was the very serious issue in 02 episode 11, and it still resulted in Daisuke trying to understand Takeru's feelings. I think all of it boils down to Daisuke himself just not having that kind of personality to begin with, because he's friendly and supportive before anything else, and the whole thing with Takeru became a non-issue after a fashion (way before we even get into Kizuna, at that). Ken has the word "rival" sometimes applied to him in official franchise media, but nobody ever believes it. Sure, Daisuke and Ken have fairly complementary personalities, but they seem to both be aware of this fact and actively using it to help each other. It's very, very, very hard to imagine them ever getting into any kind of fight the way Taichi and Yamato used to in Adventure. It's just not happening! They're "best friends" who enjoy each other's company and actively hang out, and...yeah, that's it.

Tamers: Also does not exist! I know a lot of people really try to say it's Ruki because she's the one with the lone-wolf attitude and aggravated Takato at first, but my impression of Takato's attitude with her wasn't out of any competition but more that he'd like it if she didn't try to pick fights with him. Which she does actually stop after a while, mind you, and you could even make an argument that she's more of a foil to Jian than Takato, because Jian's the one who was completely pacifist at first, with Takato caught in the middle. In the end, Ruki never actually attains a particularly close relationship with Takato compared to Jian, nor does she really keep up a particular competitive streak with Takato; she kind of pops in and out at her leisure because of her more independent streak, and Jian ends up more of Takato's right-hand man (which is why the franchise presumably picks him as the secondary character to feature whenever they do "secondary characters"), but neither Takato nor Jian are prone to conflict and the entire trope is just fundamentally absent. The Tamers trio, is, ultimately, a trio.

Frontier: Takuya and Kouji are probably the first pair to really look like a proper execution of the trope, and at the very least they align pretty perfectly to how it's known in Sentai: a more hot-headed, aggressive lead with a more cool-headed and cynical right-hand man, where they end up often prone to conflict over dispute on how to best lead the team. However, while it's much more of a conventional execution than Adventure (since Adventure had Yamato actually be more prone to being an emotional fuse bomb whereas Taichi was often too chill more than anything), there being any conflict isn’t gone into that deeply beyond just "their personalities are complementary", and in that sense it's not far off from Adventure itself.

Savers: The series kind of baits you into thinking it might go this way when Nanami taunts Tohma about how he had to resort to a Masaru-esque tactic to beat her (it's one of its early red herrings about Tohma supposedly betraying the group), and it does have traces at the start because of how blatant of a foil Tohma is to Masaru, but one thing important to consider is that while the "rivalry" of what's being competed over is barely even relevant in most Digimon series to begin with, Masaru and Tohma don't even have a "group" to lead -- they're the employees under DATS who are being given orders from above, and are dealing with situations as they come. Masaru ends up leading the charge a bit, but he's not actually a leader in any shape or form, and Savers is more of a story of Masaru's coming-of-age than anything else, so while the series mostly has to do with his personal philosophy more than Tohma's, it ultimately lets the two of them pursue their lives their own ways. Masaru's worst bout of infamous anger is at being hurt over Tohma's apparent betrayal, not against him personally.

Xros Wars: I would say this is the only series to date where the term "rivals" properly applies, and it's because they're fighting over something concrete: the Code Crowns, and eventually Digital World territory. So in this case, for the first two parts, the answer is obviously Kiriha; Nene was a rival at first, but after various events happened she allied with Xros Heart early into Death Generals, and while Taiki and Kiriha had a relationship of mutual respect, Kiriha still considered him an opponent over what they were competing for until eventually the Xros Heart United Army fully came into formation. In the manga version, Kiriha does invoke the word "rival" in the above sense of competing to polish one's skills, but ironically, its version of the Death Generals arc involves them being much more in-tune with the same goals, so it might actually apply less because Taiki kind of responds with "uh, sure...?" since he's not nearly as interested in self-improvement. In Hunters, while it initially seems like it might be Yuu, the answer is really Ryouma, and note that Ryouma never really forms a particularly close relationship with Tagiru; it's just that he's the person most at the forefront for competing with Tagiru in the Hunt, to the point he's the first person chosen to wield the Brave Snatcher and turns out to be a bit of a foil for Tagiru in terms of actually having admired Taiki this whole time.

Appmon: Also does not exist. Rei tried to do the whole schtick in terms of competing for the Seven Code Appmon at first, but Haru was having none of that and immediately reached out to him emotionally, worrying about his welfare, and although Rei had a bit of a detached relationship with the other Appli Drivers thereafter, it really was friendly more than anything, just a bit awkward. Haru and Yuujin aren't even on the table, since their relationship is "best friends" akin to Daisuke and Ken.

Adventure: reboot: Also does not exist, considering that Taichi and Yamato bickering over the best way to approach things is limited to the very beginning of the series (and one of those times was with Yamato and Sora, not Yamato and Taichi, at that). In fact, I think most of these kids have been acting separately for most of the series anyway...?

#digimon #shiha's ask box #timelessanimo #digimon multi series talk

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p-artsypants · 3 years

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Arcadia or Bust (17)

Heartstone Hall

Previously on Arcadia or Bust:

James Lake Sr. came back to Arcadia while Jim and friends were out retrieving the new Heartstone. The deadbeat not only ran away with a girl, but he’d been dealing cocaine in LA. Now he’s come back to lay low, since he owes a lot of money to some really dangerous men. He got a kilo of cocaine to try to make his profit back, only to not pick it up from the drop zone before Jim found it. Thinking it was trash, Jim ate the brick and went into an 8 hour rage, busting up the town. The US army of Area 49-B got a whiff of the destruction and came to collect Jim from the hospital. With a campaign from the town and an old friend of Walter’s, Jim is turned loose. However, he’s not out of the woods yet, as his amulet was ripped out of his chest and now he has a crater.

—

*points in a random direction* Hey look! What’s that over there?! *Drops update* *runs*

Ao3 | FF.net

—

“It’s okay Jim, you’re going to be okay,” said Claire, as she hovered just over his face, and pressed little kisses to his cheek. “We’re going home.”

“…For the…glory…” he muttered, before wincing and falling silent.

“Are you taking us to the hospital?” Barbara asked as the van sped on, faster than any speed limit.

“Nope,” said Samuel. “I think this is a Heartstone issue.”

She nodded, knowing that would be the best. “He needs a tissue transplant, but his skin is so tough…I don’t even know what we could do for him. Get human skin and have Merlin transform it into half-troll? I hate that I don’t know what to do! I’m not a surgeon, damnit! And I’m certainly no magic expert!”

“Stop at the McDonald’s near the edge of town,” said Toby.

“Really? You want a Big Mac at a time like this?”

“No! Merlin is probably there, and I bet he could fix Jim up.”

“Wait, Merlin-Merlin? Like ‘Amulet of Merlin, Sword of Excalibur’ Merlin?” Asked Samuel.

“That’s the one!”

Once they got into town, Samuel pulled in at the McDonalds as requested, and Toby was out the door before he stopped the car.

“Merlin! Merlin help!” He cried, as he ran inside the restaurant.

The employees behind the counter all looked at him, and then pointed at Merlin, who had set up shop in the corner of the store. He was surrounded by books, and other magical artifacts.

How had management allowed this? Well actually, Merlin wouldn’t have listened to any authority, so they probably didn’t allow it.

Toby ran to the wizard. “We got Jim back! He’s in the van, and he’s hurt really bad! We need you to heal him!”

“What kind of injury?” Asked Merlin, calmly packing up his books.

“They took his amulet, and there’s a huge hole in his chest! I could see his lungs!”

Merlin screwed up his lips in thought. “Where are they taking him? To the Heartstone?”

“That’s what Samuel said!”

Merlin didn’t ask who Samuel was, so he probably didn’t care. “I will be there shortly. I must gather the appropriate supplies. Keep him reclined and relaxed. And try not to prod the wound.”

Toby nodded once and then ran back outside to the van.

One of the McDonald employees calmly came over and refilled Merlin’s coffee, as he had asked to be done every hour.

“Good lad. I’m leaving now. Here, for your trouble.” And he dropped a sizable emerald in the kid’s hand.

The kid looked at it and shrugged. “Whatever.” It beat minimum wage at least.

—

At the canal, Claire opened up the portal to Trollmarket while Walter and Samuel started to get Jim out of the van. She ran in and called out, “Blinky! ARRRGH! Jim’s back! He’s hurt!”

ARRRGH came running, while Blinky gathered all sorts of supplies and carried them down to the Heartstone.

It was a mad dash then. Jim was quickly, but carefully, brought down into Heartstone Hall, and rested on his mattress on the floor.

“…cold��” he whispered as he grasped and pulled at the blankets.

Barbara pulled the comforter up to his stomach, and draped a smaller one over his right side. “I know you're cold, but you have a wound, and we can’t cover it yet.”

“…water…”

“I’m on it!” Cried Toby, running upstairs.

Jim groaned out in pain, and the Heartstone responded with a pulse of light.

“Is that good?” Asked Claire.

“The Heartstone is picking up on Jim’s pain, and is releasing magic to aid in his healing!” Said Blinky, with a smile.

“Is that going to deplete the magic we put back into it?”

“No no! Well, maybe…it shouldn’t!”

Jim moaned out again, tensing his whole body, and craning his neck in an effort to find relief.

“Just a little bit longer, sweetie,” said Barbara. “Merlin will be here soon.” She gnawed on her lip. “I could probably get an IV for him from the hospital. I have my phone, so call me if there’s any change!”

“I’ll drive you, Dr. Lake,” said Samuel.

“That’s alright, I’ll take the tunnel to my house and grab my car. That way, you don’t need to be held up here any longer. You’ve been a great help.”

The general smiled. “It was worth it more than I thought. The Trollhunter owes me a favor now, you see. I probably won’t need to collect, but it’s always fun to have that in your back pocket. And besides, I got to see Trollmarket and the Heartstone with my own eyes.” He glanced at the orange stone. “That’s a privilege everyone in the Janus Order longed for.” Before he got too wistful, he turned to Walt. “You’ll let me know how this all turns out, right? Because I’m invested in Mr. Lake’s fate now.”

“I’ll text you updates.”

“Fantastic.” He gave Jim a pat on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Trollhunter.”

“I’ll show you out,” said Barbara as they left together.

Then it was just Blinky, ARRRGH, Claire, and Walt. Time ticked on in silence, as no one knew what to do or say. Only occasional groans from Jim broke the quiet atmosphere.

“What’s taking Merlin so long?” Said Claire, with irritation.

“He’s coming?” Asked Blinky.

“We told him about what happened before we came down here. Said he had to collect ‘appropriate materials’.”

“So he’s collecting materials,” said Walter. “It might take some time.”

“Yeah, but he’s probably doing it at a leisurely pace. The man has no concept of time anymore. We need to get him a phone. Or at least a walkie-talkie.”

Just then, a gallon bucket of ice and water bottles descended on a rope from the center column of the room.

“Heads up! It’s kinda heavy!” Toby called before it hit the ground harshly. Then he nearly tumbled down the stairs himself.

“I got a bunch because I know Jim doesn’t have running water down here yet, and I didn’t want us to run out!” He took a bottle from the bucket and put a silly straw in it so Jim could drink without having to sit up. “Sorry Jim, this is the only straw I have…it says ‘big boy’.” Toby tilted the end of the straw so it touched Jim’s lips.

In his half conscious state, Jim felt it, took it in his mouth, and sucked, emptying half the bottle in one go. He released the straw and licked his lips.

“Better, Jimbo?”

“Uh huh…” Jim managed a little nod.

“Okay. I’ll be on water duty. You just say the word, okay?”

“…For…the glory of Merlin…” Jim tried again, before wincing hard. “Hurts to breathe…”

Claire sat cross legged on the bed next to him, scratching his scalp lightly with her nails. “Just hang on for a little bit longer. Your mom is bringing some medicine from the hospital, and Merlin is going to fix you up.”

His eyes flickered open ever so slightly. “Where am I?”

“You’re in Heartstone Hall, in your bed.”

His eyes closed again. “My amulet…gone.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it right now. Just relax.”

“Hurts…”

“I know, babe, I know.”

Walt stood, looking at his phone. “Barbara’s back. I’ll go help her.” And he left.

Blinky snapped his fingers. “I think Vendal had a recipe for a burn salve up there. I can work on that. Come ARRRGH! It’s the least we can do!”

“Yell if Jim need help,” ARRRGH added, as he followed Blinky up the stairs.

“More water, Jimbo?”

“Huh Uh…”

After he drank, he winced, and a tear rolled from his eye. “I want my mom.”

“She’s coming, Jim. She’s bringing some medicine for you.”

“Where…am I?”

Claire then realized that Jim was barely conscious, and wasn’t listening to much anyways. She’d end up repeating herself a lot.

She pushed his bangs out of his face and kissed his forehead. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re nice and safe, babe.”

Toby and Claire sat in silence as Jim continued to struggle to breathe.��

Thankfully, Barbara and Walt appeared not a minute later, with all sorts of goodies.

“Alright kiddo, let’s get you all cleaned up. Claire, would you put on these gloves? I’d like you to clean the skin around his wound with these alcohol swabs while I set up the IV.”

“On it Barb!” Claire got to work quickly, thankful to be able to do something to help.

Walt set up the IV stand while Barbara prepared the needle and inserted it in Jim’s arm.

“I hate that I have to use a thicker gauge needle, but your skin is so tough, kid.”

Jim didn’t seem to even register what she was doing.

Once the IV was in and taped in place, Barbara took out a thick gauze and started taping it in place on Jim’s chest. “The wound isn’t bleeding nearly as much as it should,” she stated, with a frown.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Asked Claire.

“I’m thinking it’s because of the burns on him. They weren’t this bad at the hospital. He had been out in sunlight that day, but it was overcast and he had on long sleeves.” She taped down the gauze with medical masking tape. “No, this looks like...well, third degree on a human. Direct heat like flames or burning metal. I guess that would be a UV light for Jim.”

“I’m going to hammer that lady into the ground,” Toby muttered.

“There, this should be good for now. I’ll bandage him again once Merlin cleans him up.” She rested a weak hand to her head. “Lord help me, I’m depending on Merlin.”

Thankfully, news came by Claire’s phone, with an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Claire? This is Douxie.”

“Douxie! Please tell me you’re with Merlin!”

“I am! Not that I can get his butt moving any faster. He briefed me on the situation, and I’ve been trying to rush him…but, you know how he is…”

She could hear the old man shouting somewhere in the near distance. “Three days? Well he’ll be dead by then! No need for it by that time! You don’t have anything in stock?”

Claire winced. “Where are you guys?”

“At the hardware store, ummm you’re better off not knowing why for now. We’ll be at Trollmarket soon, I promise!”

“Thank you. And thank you for calling. We were getting worried.”

“How is he?”

“Barely conscious. He’s on an IV with pain meds now…so he’ll be feeling a little better. He keeps trying to summon his amulet, but he doesn’t have the strength.”

“Uh oh, he doesn’t have the amulet with him?”

“No, the army wouldn’t give it back.”

Douxie exhaled in a huff. “We’ll figure something out. Oh, Looks like Merlin found an alternative. We’ll be on our way soon!”

“Great! See you!” And she ended the call. “Merlin should be coming soon!”

“Thank goodness!” Barbara sighed. “Though it looks like Jim finally fell asleep. His pain is mostly managed…all we can do now is wait.”

It felt like they were waiting hours. But there was not much else to do.

Jim slept fitfully, occasionally opening his eyes to look around. It was clear he was exhausted, so he’d just close them again a moment later, and they heard his slow breathing.

“This is torture,” said Claire. “But I can’t imagine what he’s been through.”

“I hope that along with her discharge, that Kubritz lady does hard time in prison,” said Toby.

“And I hope they do everything to her that she did to him,” Claire added, with venom. “If they don’t, I will.”

“I’ll back you up.”

It was hard to share small talk, but just listening to Jim’s labored breathing and waiting felt like a terrible option.

Finally, finally, Merlin’s horrible grating voice echoed through the Heartstone husk. “Hello? Is this where the injured Jim is?”

“Yes!” Claire cried out. She was never so happy to hear that man’s voice.

No really, most of the time, his appearance filled her with dread.

Merlin and Douxie descended the stairs, arms full of plastic shopping bags.

And it finally seemed like Merlin was done wasting time, as he spared no greetings and got busy examining Jim. He removed the blanket that covered his shoulder, and the temporary bandages Barbara applied.

He cringed at the sight of the crater. “Yikes. That is quite the wound.”

“Can you heal him?” Claire asked, afraid that he wasn’t up to the task.

“Sure. No problem. Douxie, prepare the plaster.”

“Plaster?” Barbara asked, with horror.

“Ugh, I know,” said the wizard. “Three days for expedited shipping for clay! Ridiculous! I thought the modern era was a time of immediate gratification! But no, the one time I need something quick, it’s a three day wait! Do they not know where the nearest clay deposits are?!”

“Okay, but the plaster? What’s the deal with the plaster?!”

“What else do you expect me to use to fill a wound in a troll?”

“You’re going to pour plaster in his open wound?!”

“Yes! And more!” He glanced over to the bucket Douxie was mixing in. “How’s it coming?”

“Do you want it more watery, or thick?”

“Thick without being too dry.” Then he turned back and leaned in close to Jim. “None of you are going to like what I’m about to do.” He pressed two fingers to Jim’s chest, and spoke, “imperium.”

Jim’s eyes flashed open, wide, pupils expanded so the iris was just a hint of blue.

“Jim Lake Jr., summon your amulet,” Merlin commanded.

Jim raised his hand up in the air slowly and spoke clearly, “for the glory of Merlin, daylight is mine to command.”

Then Merlin let go, and Jim fell back into slumber, Claire having to catch his hand before it smacked him in the face.

“What was that?” She asked.

“I thought it was fairly obvious. A mind control spell. Very weak, only works on unconscious individuals within range.”

“You know Mind Control?” Asked Toby, with some horror.

“To a degree. As I said. It’s more like the power of suggestion. Morgana has learned how to fully possess someone’s mind, but I always preferred to use my natural charisma to persuade people.”

Someone snorted.

“The plaster is ready,” said Douxie. “Did you want to start with the strips?”

“Yes,” he collected the tray Douxie had prepared. Mesh cloth strips sprayed with plaster, which created a base. Carefully, Merlin began to lay the strips in the hole in Jim’s chest, applying just enough pressure to adhere them and blend the edges. Once he had completely coated the inside, without filling the hole, he stopped.

“There, now we’ll treat his burns. You said you had electricity down here?”

“Uh, yeah. There’s an outlet on the wall next to you,” said Claire.

“Perfect.” From his various bags, he took out a palm sander with a coarse paper on it. He plugged it in. “Now how do I work this thing?”

“Why don’t you let me handle that while you use the file…” Douxie took the power tool away from him. “Claire, can you sit him up and lean against his back as a counter weight?”

“The file? I don’t want to use the file! I got this so you would use the file!”

“Merlin!” Barbara scolded.

“Fine, I’ll use the file…better for fine detailing anyways.”

It was agonizing moments as Douxie buffed away the dried, burnt skin that came off like dust, while Merlin shucked off the chunks that were too thick for the sander.

Jim, for the most part, only twitched and cried out on occasion, only when they got too close to fresh skin.

Once he was rubbed raw and bright blue, a little bloody in some places, they stopped.

“It’s like an extreme pumice stone,” Douxie tried to soothe, feeling guilty as Claire wiped her tears. “The skin affected by the sun, or UV lights or whatever, was solid stone and had to come off.”

“I know,” said Claire. “It was just…jarring.”

“Alright, we’re almost done,” said Merlin, scrounging up some compassion. “You can recline him again, Fair Claire.”

Gently, Claire laid him back down on the pillows.

Merlin took the loose plaster and slopped a bit in the wound, trying to make up for the missing space.

Then, from the stairs came a ‘plink, plunk, plink, plunk’ as the amulet rolled its way down and stopped at Merlin’s feet. “Got here faster than I anticipated. I’d love to see the damage it did on it’s way.”

“I thought if someone stole the amulet, it wouldn’t come back?” Asked Toby.

“Not unless it’s properly summoned. If it only chooses one Trollhunter, you think it would want to be anywhere else?” Merlin cleaned the amulet with a rag to a near mirror shine, before placing it back in its spot on Jim’s chest.

“Can’t you just keep it out of him? What if something like this happens again?”

“Then we’ll just have to buy more plaster,” shrugged Merlin. “Anyway, it’s better this way.” He smeared more plaster in the cracks and smoothed it with his hands, until the seam was perfectly even.

“Now what?”

“The plaster should start to dry soon, and a chemical reaction will take place, putting off heat. Then I will start the incantation.”

“Why then?”

“Must everything I do be questioned?”

“Yes.” Said everyone, unanimously.

“Because I said so. That’s why.” He touched the plaster, careful not to jostle it, and waited for the heat to set in. “Alright, I suggest everyone stand back. You too, Claire, get behind me.”

Claire scooted off the bed and stood back with Toby and Barbara, then they waited anxiously.

“It’s going to look and sound painful, but a little bit of pain, and he’ll be all better.” Merlin’s hands glowed blue, interacting with the pulsing, ticking amulet. Instead of a one word spell, like he had been doing, Merlin muttered a fast string of words that sounded like nothing and everything at the same time. Lightning bolts skittered from his fingertips, and drew patterns on Jim’s flesh.

Jim screamed and writhed as every bolt connected. They danced across the plaster, turning it to his hardened flesh as they moved. The hands on the amulet spun rapidly as the stone pulsed a violent blue. The wound from Morgana, lower on his chest, flickered orange like embers. The Heartstone glowed as well.

Claire felt her hair stand on end and goosebumps rise to her skin. The magic in the room was deafening, blinding, and amazing.

Finally, Merlin halted, and only smoke remained.

Jim breathed deep, quick breaths, like you would after a run. But it wasn’t labored or halted, like before.

“Cl-Claire?” He asked, his voice stronger than it had been.

She nearly tackled him. “Jim! Jim you’re alright!”

He winced slightly as she collided with his raw skin, but hugged her anyway. “Where am I?”

“You’re home!”

“Home?”

“It’s a long story. How do you feel?”

“Tired, hungry…a little sore. I remember being in a lot of pain…” he looked down at his chest, touching the amulet in confusion.

“Merlin just healed you,” she explained. “They hurt you pretty bad, huh?”

He rolled his neck and stretched his shoulders. “No kidding.”

“Well,” said Merlin, “my work here is done. I think I’m ready for a nap of my own.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” Barbara said sincerely. “Thank you for saving my boy.”

“Of course! You didn’t think I was going to leave my greatest warrior to die, did you? Oh, before I forget, I should probably give this back.” He handed a black wallet over to her.

“Wait, whose is this?”

“James’. I needed to pay for the sander somehow.”

Barbara laughed. “Well, he’s not going to be happy about it, but glad to know he contributed to this too.” Then she muttered, “considering it’s all his fault in the first place.”

By the end of the day, Jim was up. Not fully recovered, but enough to shuffle around. He was able to go to his mother’s house and take a shower, while Barbara changed the blood-stained, plaster dusted sheets. When he was all clean, he sat in the living room in his sweatpants, exhausted, and aching.

“Blinky made you a salve, if you want me to put it on you,” Claire offered, holding up a little jar.

“I’d love that.”

She delicately rubbed it into his skin, like Aloe on a severe sunburn. Careful not to scratch him, but also wanting to make sure he was covered.

James walked past the room and halted. “Jim! You’re—you’re back!”

Jim just glanced at the man. “And?”

“I just…um, look, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I didn’t know…that you ate trash. I would have made the drop for the cocaine somewhere else. I didn’t think—that’s not something people usually have to worry about, you know?”

“Yeah. Usually.” Jim said, stone cold.

“How are you feeling?”

“Why do you care?”

“B-because you’re my son?”

Jim couldn’t stifle the eye roll. “So NOW you think I’m your son? Where was that mentality when you pointed a shotgun at me?”

“I was in a severe crack withdrawal when I did that.”

“And you’re just magically better now?”

James sat in an armchair opposite him. “I’m not going to say yes, but I’m better. I’m trying to get out of your and Babs’ lives, because I brought so much hurt in the first place. But…seeing what I’m missing out on—“

“No!” Jim snarled, standing up. “You don’t get to be sentimental now. You don’t get to change your mind. You suck! That’s all you’ve done! Mom’s moved on, I have men that are more fatherly than you could ever be if you tried! So just—finish your business and get lost!” He tried to step towards the basement, but he crumbled, still far too physically weak to walk on his own.

“I got you,” Claire whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist. “James,” she turned to look at him briefly. “I don’t know if you realized how crappy that thing you just said was. Don’t try to get Jim’s hopes up. He’s hurt, he’s upset, he’s vulnerable. So just stay away. If you truly want to be back in Jim’s life, don’t mention that you’re considering it. Back it up with action, or else you’ll just be disappointing us all when you go back. And as far as I know…your word is worthless.” She helped Jim walk slowly back to the basement, to the tunnel back to Trollmarket.

“Trouble? I heard yelling,” said Draal.

“No, no trouble. Thanks Draal,” Jim gave him a weak, affectionate punch.

—

Many many miles away, a group of men watched the news, an old broadcast that one of them had snagged.

“—The campaign worked perfectly! Now, hero to Arcadia, James Lake Jr. has been released from his wrongful imprisonment for his bizarre appearance, and returned home. Lake is hailed a local hero, as his acts of kindness and selflessness during a horrendous tornado in the area have become well known in the community as well as on social media. A parade in Lake’s honor is set for this weekend, as Lake has made a good progression in his recovery from captivity.”

“Okay, a kid was arrested because he looks weird. Not sure what the correlation is.”

The leader of the pack smiled. “Oh, it’s such a subtle thing. We don’t care about the kid, or his deeds, or even the city of Arcadia really.”

“Then…what?”

“Did you catch the boy’s name?”

“I…Lake? Like…”

“Jim Lake Jr. is what they said. Maybe a common name. But if there’s a Junior…perhaps there’s a Senior nearby.”

—

I have not seen Rise of the Titans (though I expect to watch it this weekend) but I heard it was…not good, story wise. So in this fic, I won’t be applying any of it. Probably. Unless something juicy catches my eye.

#toa #trollhunters #arcadia or bust #jim lake junior #claire nuñez #fanfiction #fanfic

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hardyimagines · 4 years

Text

Rumors

Drabble. little bit of angst + little bit of fluff

Warnings: mild physical aggression

The icy floorboards welcomed your barefeet as you quietly traipsed across the dust-ridden wooden floor. The ground was warmer than the surrounding room, tense and silent. The fight that had taken place earlier seemed to still linger in the room. The yells echoed throughout your head despite the fact that the only sound taking place was the crackling from the dancing flame in the fireplace as it ate the coals and log tucked away inside the spot.

Alfie was seated on the sofa. He had a blanket draped across his lap, lopsided and crumpled as he laid his forearms on his thighs, fingers pinched around an old novel he’d found a few days ago. The blue-eyed man was pretending to read the words but no matter how many times he tried to absorb the information in front of him, he couldn’t comprehend anything he was reading. He could hear you tiptoeing through the room and toward the kitchen. He knew you were trying to avoid another altercation. The one that had happened earlier hadn’t ended on good terms. His eyes slid to the clock in the corner, it was past midnight, too late for another disagreement anyway. He eyed the oversized necessity as the minute hand ticked by quietly. His observation didn’t last long before he looked back down at his book, fingers lifting to pinch the frame of his glasses so he could adjust them. He kept a close eye on you, peripheral vision trusty and reliable. He caught a final glimpse of you, vanishing through the doorway and into the kitchen.

You just wanted a hot cup of tea. You needed something to relax you, to help lull you to sleep. It was hard when you were left on your own, Alfieless. When the pair of you fought, you were both stubborn, equally refusing to apologize for what had taken place. Sometimes the tension wore away and you went about it as if nothing had happened. Other times, he’d strike up a conversation and apologize without ever having to say those simple words. ‘I’m sorry.’ It was like a weighted phrase to him. You were no better though, just as refusing to say them.

You let a soft sigh fall past your lips as you drew a small mug out of the cabinet and set it on the clean counter. Your fingertips brushed along the handle as you did your best to push the memory of earlier to the farthest corner of your mind. It didn’t work. It was front and center.

Your shoulders were still sore from where he’d unexpectedly pressed you against the nearby wall. It had been a bit rough, too sudden for you to have been able to prepare yourself.

Earlier that day

A sharp gasp fell from your parted lips. The muscles in your back and the bones of your shoulders tightened as you were slammed up against the wall leading to the kitchen. Alfie’s eyes were wild, absent, you didn’t recognize him at all as he held you in place. His grip on your arms was tight, fingers sinking into the warm flesh of your tender skin as he peered down at you.

“What the hell is your problem?” He spat. It was evident your moaning and sighing and need to avoid him throughout the day had finally gotten on his last nerve.

“You.” You shoved at him, an attempt to free yourself from his strong grasp, but he tightened his grip and pushed you back more firmly.

“Me?” He almost laughed. His tone dropped with disbelief. He was the only one of the two of you who had a right to be upset.

“You’ve been rude all day.” You struggled pointlessly in his strong grasp. The curls that hadn’t been long enough to stay tucked away in your tied hair fell in front of your eyes, tickling your cheeks. The strands lifted with your soft breaths. Confidence and bravery shown in those big eyes of yours, but he saw the fear that tagged alongside, cowering behind the seemingly stronger display of emotions. Telling him how you felt could go one of two ways. He’d be understanding and hear you out about why you were so bothered or he’d lash out.

He cocked a brow. He had a lot on his mind, a lot of things had been said to him today. He hadn’t revealed any of that to you yet though. “Right and when was this, pet. You’re the one who’s been stomping around, sighing and moaning and complaining, yeah. I haven’t fucking done anything.” His eyes narrowed, the impatience that radiated off of him seemed to gather in his fingertips, forcing him to press on your arms just a little rougher, trying to pull the words from your throat quicker.

Your jaw clenched, pink lips pressing against each other before a heavy scoff fell from your lips. You winced in the slightest beneath his touch, head tilting back so your chin was turned up at him. “You’ve been rude to me all day long and the second that I return the favor, I’m the bad guy.” With all the strength you could muster, your palms pressed against the front of his chest and you shoved him back as hard as you could. He moved maybe a couple of inches, hands falling from their place on your arms. You dipped around him and made movement to head for the sofa. Leaving wasn’t exactly an option, storming out of the house to aimlessly wonder around. You had nowhere else to stay so fighting with the man you were dating seemed to be the only thing there was to do. “So, maybe you want to be a big boy,” You squinted. “And tell me why you’re acting like such an ass.”

Alfie did chuckle this time. A low, husky sound fell from his lips as he lifted his hand to his chin and pulled lazily at the curls that stuck out of his skin. “Alright.” He barked. He was saving his questions until the end of the night when the two of you were tucked away in bed, but you could feel that something wasn’t right, and he clearly wasn’t being his usual loving self so the talk was going to have to happen now. The boots he wore everyday were dirtier than usual, louder than usual too as he stomped across the room, a trail of dirt following him. He settled in the center of the rug parallel to you. The only thing between your bodies was the dirty coffee table, stained with spilled coffee and food crumbs that he could never seem to clean up. “The lads have shared some.. rather fucking infuriating information, yeah, bit agitating really.” He wasn’t angry just yet, more frustrated than anything. He hadn’t said what needed to be said, but once he did you’d know just how far his anger went.

“Go on.” Your tone was sharp, slightly bored as you leaned back against the cushions, one leg lifting to drape across the other. You laid your hands in your lap, soft eyes moving along his features as you waited for him to spit out some poor excuse that wouldn’t help him out of the situation he’d thrown himself into.

“You’ve apparently been sneaking around with Charlie.” His brows lifted, scruffy facial hair above his lip rubbing against the hair that gathered on his chin as he pulled his lips in. “So ive been told by a few of the fucking lads, right.” His blue eyes seemed much darker beneath the glow of the fire in the corner. As if his emotions could change the color of his orbs. You straightened on the sofa. He could tell you were getting ready to speak. “I’ll let you explain yourself, won’t I, yeah, because I am the type of man to give my girl a chance to defend herself, right, so.” His arms folded over his chest, arms flexing beneath the thin material of his white shirt. “Are you fucking sneaking around?” Alfie growled.

The air in your lungs vanished. A sharp pain formed in your chest, a stinging, agitating feeling that picked and poked at you. “Leave it to you, Alfie, to accuse me of cheating based on what your trusty lads tell you.” Huffing, you pushed yourself up from the sofa. “You’re pathetic. If you honestly believe that I’d ever even think about someone else let alone mess around..” Your tone was growing sharper. Your voice was growing louder. Alfie unfolded his arms, hands pressing against his hips as he stared at you.

“Didn’t say that, now did I, I repeated, right, what they fucking said and am now generously giving you the fucking opportunity to explain yourself.” He suddenly bellowed.

Exasperated, you lifted your hands to your face and rubbed it down. “By asking me for an explanation, you’re siding with them!” Was he really this stupid! You stepped forward, knees grazing the coffee table. “I’m not going to recite the entirety of every conversation I’ve ever had with Charlie. You either trust me, as you’re meant to, or you believe those absolute children!” You almost shrieked. The amount of discomfort in your stomach made you curl your hands in the sides of the fabric, your bottom lip beginning to tremble.

Alfie was in the midst of moistening his lips so he could bite back a response but right when he was conjuring up something smart to spit in your direction, he was pulled back to earlier that day. Reliving the oh so lovely news. The new assistant, Ronald.. his brows furrowed. Maybe it was Donald. He squinted. He couldn’t remember the bloke’s name. He could, however, remember the way that multiple lads poured into the room, all of them joining in with the newbie’s words to rat you out. You were cheating, according to all of them. Alfie had been flustered in his office when the group started to explain what they saw.

Charlie was younger, closer to your age. He was brunette with big, brown eyes that seemed like the color of honey beneath the bright sun’s rays. He was a trusted employee. Not anymore. Today, he would be fired.

Alfie, at first, was settled in his office chair with his legs spread wide and his features calm. He absentmindedly twisted the chain attached to the frame of his glasses, ears straining to hear each of the lads as they told him about when, where, and what you had done with the boy. He could hear the quakes in their voices as they tried their best to maintain their confidence. Revealing something so private to someone who was the least bit understanding was, quite frankly, terrifying.

The low drumming of the rain outside hit the window. It was a soft patter, reeling your attention to it as Alfie stood, faraway. You hoped his memory was treating him well, reminding him of exactly what was said so he could pick at the spewed lies. You weren’t worried. What proof did anybody have? You knew. Nothing. You were faithful, honest, in love with the brute stood on the other side of the table. Part of you felt sick that he would trust someone else’s word over your own, but if you had a group of people swarming you with a confession — a secret, that Alfie had been messing around with another girl.. it would be hard to brush off. You stepped to the side, ready to remove yourself from your trapped position between the table and sofa. Alfie mirrored your footsteps, pulled from his thoughts. Your eyes darted to him and the suddeness of his actions, no longer interested in the raindrop trails that stained the glass in the corner of the room. Alfie’s breaths were slow, he was ready to explain. He took to long to speak. So you did.

“When you’re ready to apologize,” Your tone was no kinder than a few seconds ago, especially not now as he stepped closer. He was intimidating and tall and you didn’t appreciate the way he closed in on you. He cut you off.

“Me? Pet, I ain’t the one behaving like a whore, am I?” He placed his hands on his hips, eyeing you intently. Your every movement was scrutinized, as if you’d fidget or tremble or do something to give away that you were lying.

You stiffened. Was he being serious? Scoffing in disbelief, you lifted your hand and jabbed your palm into the middle of his chest, jaw clenching as you halted him from coming any closer. “What did you just say?” The man looked like a stranger in that moment. Never, in all the time that the two of you had been together, had he ever called you anything similar to what he’d just had the nerve to call you.

“Do you have another name for it?” The man uttered.

“Oh my god. You’re unbelievable!” Your insides churned with disgust. Who was he? You didn’t recognize him in this moment.

“Right, Y/n, I think that’d be you, yeah, seeing as you’re the unfaithful one. Can’t seem to keep your fucking legs closed. You’ve got no right no be upset, lass. You’ve been caught, is that it?” Truth be told, he couldn’t imagine you messing around behind his back. When the two of you had finally got together, it had taken quite a while. He made advances toward you and you did your best to brush them off. It had taken him months to get you to agree to go out with him, you were only hesitant because he was your boss, but the second you caved.. the dates had gone beyond good and your relationship had blossomed into something unbelievable. He couldn’t seem to figure out why four boys would tell him you were screwing one of his employees though if it weren’t true. What was in it for them?

A surge of anger shot through you like a shot of adrenaline. Without any control over yourself, your hand lifted and swung in his direction. You waited for the impact of your palm colliding with his face, but his reflexes were faster than you had initially expected. His hand was tight around your wrist and without any effort at all, he pushed you back so your body fell against the couch. He covered you, like a blanket did on most nights. His hand settled beside your head, eyes glistening with so much anger and betrayal as he stared down at you. You thrashed, hitting at his chest and bucking at him to get off of you.

Cyril stood in the corner. He had been laying down, listening to the pair of you, but when Alfie pushed you down on the couch and you were frantic to get free, he started to bark. His bark was loud, low, a heavy sound that made most people take a few steps back.

“Quiet!” Alfie shouted to the dog, doing his best to keep you still. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he wasn’t your punching bag.

“I hate you.” You told him breathily. “I hate you so much.” Your hits were harder, your legs kicked feverishly. He could see your eyes, brewing with salty tears as you did your absolute best to escape his strong grip. “Get off of me, Alfie!”

“Why, so you can try and hit me again?” The room was hot and your throat was tight as he continued to spew venomous and hurtful things in your direction. He’d only ever made you cry, one other time, and it had been when you were tired and sick and wanted him to come home and hold you. He’d insisted he had to work, but the second those tears raced along your warm cheeks, he couldn’t deny you. He’d ended up coming home with you.

“Alfie, please.” Your voice broke. You grew still beneath him, slumped. Your head rolled to the side and your chest lifted with your slow, quiet breaths. “If you really think I’d cheat, then I should go.”

Alfie clenched his jaw. “I want an explanation.”

“I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you, Alfie.” To anyone walking by the small house and peering through the windows that lined the front, the pair of you were probably a sight, Alfie straddling your hips as you slumped beneath him. “If you really think,” Your head rolled forward so you could see him clearly. “I would mess around with someone else then why are you even asking. You should’ve left.”

Alfie exhaled heavily. “I don’t want to believe it. I’m waiting for you to..” He shrugged in the slightest. He’d never been in this position before.

“For me to what, Alfie? Assure you. That’s not my place. If someone is spreading lies about me — that you assume are lies, you should get to the root of them. Did you even ask Charlie?” Sitting up in the best you could, you took this rare, vulnerable moment and pushed him back and off of you. He helped, falling back and landing on the cushions. He eyed you uncertainly, big blue eyes falling to his lap.

“Why would four boys come to me and tell me you was fucking messing around with Charlie, right, if that weren’t the case?” He sighed heavily, hands lifting to cover his face. He rubbed it down tiredly, unsure of what to believe.

“I don’t know Alfie. Why would four boys come to their big, scary boss and tell him something that they think would make him trust them. They’re trying to gain respect by doing right by you. But they’re young, stupid, and they’re doing it the wrong way.” Shaking your head, you stood from the sofa. “And you’re an idiot for even bringing this home. You know, as well as I do, that..” You couldnt finish the sentence. Alfie was all you wanted, all you’d ever want, and he was accusing you of being unfaithful. Your heart hurt. “Think long and hard about what you’re going to say next because if it’s not ‘I’m sorry’ you can save it and I’ll leave on my own accord.” You stepped around the coffee table and slowly left the room. You needed time alone.

12:30 A.M.

The small house smelt strongly of tea. The scent was warm, inviting. It made Alfie’s stomach growl and his mouth water. He was tempted to ask if you’d made enough for two glasses or if there was only enough for you. He didn’t mind making his own, he was just curious if you’d had extra. The man had closed the book a few minutes ago, it was laid face down on his thighs as he slumped against the arm of the sofa. Cyril had quietly followed you into the kitchen long ago, curious to know what you were doing and if you’d give him anything. Alfie inhaled deeply. The fight could only last for so long. He hadn’t said a single word to you since earlier, your last words being that he needed to apologize and that wasn’t easy for him. You knew that, it was exactly why you’d said it.

You were seated at the dining room table. Your feet lazily hung, skimming the tile of the cold floor beneath you as you took your time to sip the hot beverage. You’d built up a tolerance over the years, it wasn’t so hard to drink the drink without wincing. You were impatient, always trying to sip at the scalding liquid before the steam had had a chance to stop lifting from the top. The mug was set on the table, you lazily rotating it as you ran through your endless thoughts. You waited for Alfie, hopeful that he would at least mumble out some pathetic form of an apology. You set your elbow on the table and your cheek in your hand as your droopy eyes fluttered. They were heavy, desperate to close, but the second that you did, you’d be restless.

Neither of you moved for what felt like forever. You’d drift for a few moments, listening to the soft tap of Cyril’s nails against the floor or the clank when you’d lift your mug and set it back down. It was only when the heavy sound of alfies boots filled the room that you looked over your shoulder and toward the door.

He was stood tall, wide. His arms were folded as per usual. He was stern, quiet. The man stepped into the room without so much as a glance in your direction. His footsteps were loud, thumping against the floor as he moved through the room and over to the cabinet. He was going to make his own tea. You watched him closely, taking advantage of the fact that his back was toward you. He couldn’t call you out for staring. You shifted. Why were you anyway? He’d hurt your feelings — more than he probably knew. Directing your stare back to the tea instead, you pursed your lips. You were not going to speak first. You were not going to offer him your drink because you were too sleepy to finish it. You were not going to ask him if he was coming to bed or bring up the topic from earlier. But you didn’t have to.

“Pet.” His voice was low. It was almost inaudible, even in the silent room. Your lashes tickled your eyelids as you lifted your gaze to the man. “Are you awake enough to talk?” The huskiness of his voice soothes you. You wanted to go to sleep so badly, but you couldn’t, not without him. Nodding softly, you let out a soft hum before shuffling in the slightest on the chair. Watching him as he moved from the cabinets to the sink to the stove, your pink lips parted.

“I don’t want to argue though, Alfie. It’s.. I’m so tired.” You confessed.

The man looked in your direction. He was quiet as he observed you. His big, curious eyes slid along your sleepy expression, watching the way you tried to hold your head up by your cheek, steadying it with your palm. Your shoulders were slumped and your body looked heavy. But he knew, just like you did, sleep wouldn’t come so easily.

“I don’t have it in me to shout, yeah? Let’s go in the living room. It’s much warmer.” Lifting his cup of tea, he moved over to the table and lifted yours as well. You stood from the creaky chair, stepping in front of him so the two of you could move into the living room to settle on the sofa in front of the fire. You dropped down first, lifting his book out of the way so you didn’t crush it. Laying it on the coffee table, you waited for him to join you before you lifted the blanket he’d been using and pulled it to yourself. It smelt like him. It was very comforting. The man set the mugs on the table beside the book before looking in your direction.

“Right.. so.” He was quiet, pondering what he should say first. You knew an apology wouldn’t be instant. “I’m sorry for how I acted today.” Your eyes widened at the words. Eyeing him under an inquisitive stare, you drew the blanket up to your chin and eyed him closely. “Shouldn’t have fucking manhandled you and pushed you on the sofa or pinned you to the wall, yeah, that wasn’t fucking fair for me to do, was it?” You were quiet, patient. Surely that wasn’t all he wanted to apologize for. “I’m sorry for accusing you of cheating as well, right, but it is a bit fucking difficult, yeah, to be told something by the lads and then to just ignore it.”

“I didn’t ask you to ignore it, Alfie.” You whispered. “But you could’ve informed me about what was being said, you could’ve asked me about It instead of pinning me to the wall and shouting at me and calling me names.” Your voice was still soft, no anger in your tone now. You wanted to resolve this. “Tell me the Truth..”

“No.” He answer your question before you could ask it. “I didn’t believe them, alright. But put yourself in my shoes, yeah, for a second, right, if multiple people came to you and said they fucking saw me with another woman, what would you do?” His blue eyes slid between yours, searching for the answer. He already knew. You’d lash out like he had.

“Kill her.” You stated nonchalantly. “And then you.” The amusement in your gaze carried over to his as you shuffled. “I understand completely that you had to have had doubts, but Alfie, you shouldn’t have been as rude to me as you were. If I cheated, which I didn’t, then yes, you should’ve been a cunt. But I’ve said maybe a word to Charlie..” Alfie’s eyes shot to you. He didn’t even want to talk about this anymore. He knew you hadn’t done anything with the boy. He just wanted to kiss and make up and then fire the lads who’d lied about you.

Alfie shifted on the sofa before draping his arm across the length of the back. You, without much hesitation, shifted so that your body filled the gap between his side and your own. Crawling along the furniture until your body was pressed firmly against his own, you opened the blanket and draped it over his body before laying your head on his chest. “I’m sorry, pet.” He murmured, fingertips brushing through your soft strands of hair.

“You’re all I want.” You promised him tiredly, arm hooking around his front securely. Drawing him into you, you let your eyes flutter shut.

Alfie was quiet for a few moments, his touch brushing from your hair to roam the length of your arm. He was gentle, his touch was caring. He never wanted to be in a position like this again. It was the most he’d ever felt scared. He’d thought he was going to lose you. “I love you.” He whispered, warm lips meeting the skin of your forehead. He had to lean forward to achieve the soft kiss and after he had, he saw your face. Your eyes were closed and your lips were parted. You were fast asleep against his chest. Your faint breaths tickled the skin of his chest where his shirt was unbuttoned and your hand was curled loosely in the fabric of his shirt, legs curled inward to rest on his lap and body growing heavier and heavier against his the deeper you fell into oblivion. He didn’t blame you. It was late and the second the pair of you had made up, your body let itself give out, thankful for the reassurance.

Alfie moved his attention to the fire before smiling lazily. Reaching for his glasses, his book, and his tea, he left his arm draped around your small body, embracing you as he resumed his reading. He was tired too, but he wanted to savor this moment for a while before it was time to carry you off to bed with him.

———————————————————————

Tagged: @peakblogbecauseimweak @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @pansexualginger @heyitscam99 @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @goodiesintheclosetlove @giftofdreams @ihclipse @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @clevertheoristpainter @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh

@wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @bignastyfan-nz @hot-and-spiceyyy @azayamari @shane-isa-shame @lonewolf471 @crldrr @keeleyella @overitall2018 @lovebitesimagines @eddieisasnack @axxl-rose @slytherintothedeep @lucreziaborgiatheunholyfamily @demoncrypt1066 @phire23 @orphiceseum @advictedtohim @uncreativezx @hp-hogwartsexpress @captainbuckyboobear

#tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons imagine

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basicjetsetter · 3 years

Text

Part IV

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Little angst, Lot of anxiety, Fluff if you squint

▹ Words: 2.8k

▹ A/N: This chapter’s a bit on the short side, but it establishes a lot. Happy reading!

You’re not exactly sure how you pull it off, but you somehow manage to elude Peter for five straight days.

Playing the impromptu game of hide-and-not-be-seen was touch and go for the first two days, mainly because you weren’t sure what time you’d see Peter in the diner’s entrance. All you knew was that he’d show up early, whatever that meant. Almost every chiming bell sent your heart into overdrive, and whenever you thought you saw him, your stomach performed painful somersaults as you mapped out all likely escape routes.

No place in the diner was safe. Hal’s has a pretty simple layout: front entrance, booths to the immediate right, and bar with barstools to the immediate left, all in a shotgun fashion. If one were to try looking for someone, especially from the front entrance, all they’d have to do is marginally widen their field of vision, which is why the first two days were tricky.

The next day after the first run-in, about three hours earlier than his initial arrival, Peter came in through the front door, buddying up with Chris and asking for you.

You were clearing off an unoccupied table, piling dirty plates, when Chris called out, “Hey! How’s it hanging, Peter?” With the stack of dishes still clenched in your hands, you dropped down and crawled under the booth, coming face to face with an unsavory assortment of chewed-up gum underneath the table, holding your breath for dear life. Peter stayed for about ten agonizingly treacherous minutes as Chris failed to locate you.

On the second day, a sluggish Tuesday morning with only four regular patrons at the bar and no one in the booths, Peter had just walked through the entrance as you were coming out of the back, hand-carrying three of Hal’s famous Thin Mint Milkshakes. Without a thought, you spun right around and dashed in the opposite direction, busting through the employee door and colliding straight into Wendy. You’d never seen someone throw such a fit, but then again, you’d be pretty pissed too if someone coated you head-to-toe in milkshake.

That day was… eventful, to say the least, but it gifted you with the best estimate for Peter’s arrivals. Early meant 11:30 a.m. on the dot. Lunch. You tested out the time the next day, waiting behind the employee door and peering out the medium-sized port window. At 11:30 a.m., right on cue, was Peter, dapping Chris and ordering a slice of Banana Cream Pie to-go while also asking for your whereabouts, staying for only half an hour.

He left you a note each time he departed.

Can’t seem to catch you. I’ll try again tomorrow :) – Peter

Is this not a good time for you? I’ll stop by later if you want – Peter

Is everything alright? Text or call anytime you need me. I’ll be there – Peter

From the second note on, you found yourself captivated by his neat little scrawl and the way he always signed his name at the end, as if you’d forget it was him. You’d read them on your way home and right before falling asleep, trying and failing not to picture him smiling at you while you absent-mindedly smiled at his words.

Your friendly boy-next-door is so easy to fall for, but you just can’t do it. You can’t allow yourself to fall. Nobody would be there to pick you back up.

Some nights, you lied awake drafting a message that would effectively convince Peter that things wouldn’t work between you, that you’re a lost cause, and he should probably find some other connection if such a thing exists. But then, unfailingly, you’d think about his concerned little notes and sadly acknowledge that he deserves more than a measly text. After showing up to Hal’s for almost a whole week just to get to know you, Peter deserves the truth.

Your heart is not ready for a Soulmate, and it might not ever be.

By the fifth day, you spend a good chunk of time pondering over the right words to say to Peter while simultaneously hiding in the kitchen, pretending to prepare more fries. You never looked forward to hiding from him, but what other option did you have? Going out there and letting your coworkers and boss know he’s your Soulmate? They wouldn’t shut up about it, especially not Chris, the open romantic.

When your shift ended that day, and you walked up to Chris so he could hand you Peter’s fifth note, he emphatically shook his head.

“On behalf of my new friend, Peter, I can’t in good faith give this to you,” he stated, tucking the folded paper into his back pocket and crossing his arms. “Not until you tell me why you’re dodging him.”

You frowned, crossing your arms too. “It’s really none of your business, Chris.”

“True, but it’s his.” The little dig got to you, making you wince. Chris continued softly, “Look, he won’t tell me what’s up with you two, either. And, trust me, I've asked. It's just... I’m kinda involved now, being the messenger and all, so shouldn’t I know some of the situation?”

“No…?” you hedged.

Chris didn’t budge.

You couldn’t think of a lie on the spot, and a half-truth would only further complicate things. Treading the fine line of what’s too much information and what’s not enough left you frustratingly tongue-tied. What’s specific enough to still be vague? Chris stared at you expectantly with a petulant little lift in his brow, ignoring a customer’s disgruntled calls for a refill in the napkin dispenser.

In the end, you huffed out a resigned breath and hesitantly admitted, “Peter's someone I knew from high school—a really nice guy.” For Chris’s benefit, you added, “He just likes to check up on me every now and then. You know how I don’t get out that much…”

And in a heartbeat, Chris morphed from a tough enquirer to a softened pile of dough, sagely nodding his head as if he knew all too well how reserved you are and how much of a losing battle it is persuading you to venture out. Or maybe it was because he understood how difficult it is to reconnect with people you unwilfully lost touch with for five years.

How everything and everyone fell right back into step with everyday life, like five years was just five minutes, continues to boggle your mind. It’s not normal. You won’t ever pretend that it is.

The disgruntled man shouted, “Can I get any damn service around here?”

Chris immediately broke from the conversation and left you behind the bar, off to go charm the customer’s socks off and earn a nice $10 tip even though he clocked out ten minutes ago.

You went on your way home, the ever-present anxiety of confronting Peter growing by the second.

Hours later, dressed down to your pajamas and reading his words over again, you’re still thinking about it, dread now gnawing on your insides.

You couldn’t even enjoy your newfound peace of mind. Ever since the voice stopped, Peter twined into all of your thoughts: his notes, his visits, his smile, your connection to him. There had to be a reason why destiny paired you. Besides being your Soulmate, what is he to you? What are you to him?

Unrest barred you from sleep for most of the night, and when you woke up the next morning, showered and ready to tackle another day, it hit you.

It’s Saturday—your day off this week—and you’re not scheduled to go back to work until Monday.

You could put off telling him… but what would be the point? It’d only prolong the inevitable. You needed to come clean today.

Picking up your phone, you steadily tap in his memorized cell number, then type:

-Hey Peter, it’s Y/N. Can you come by my place? We need to talk.

Three minutes later, he texts back.

-On my way.

✦ ✧✦ ✧

A nice, early summer breeze billows around you, doing its best to calm down your erratic nerves as you wait for Peter on the roof.

Are you doing the right thing?

Will Peter be okay with this?

What if he isn’t?

You jump out of your skin at the muffled Thwip and sudden appearance of Peter standing a few feet away.

His chestnut hair is windswept, and he’s wearing regular clothes, a faded blue Midtown High hoodie and denim jeans. You weren’t sure why you expected him to come dressed in his suit. It could be because you heard the sound of his web-slinger first and immediately thought of Spider-Man, but it’s more likely that your brain hasn’t connected that they are one and the same. You don’t see Spider-Man when you see him. All you see is Peter.

He’s tense, not moving an inch closer and keeping his shoulders pinched up like he’s on the defense. You can’t guess why he would be.

Gulping down a hard lump lodged in your throat, you stutter, “H-hi.”

He gives you a polite smile that doesn’t reach his sullen eyes. “Hey”

You both begin at the same time.

“Peter, I—”

“Look, Y/N—”

Ice floods your stomach, freezing your veins and squeezing your pounding heart. He has something to say to you? About what? You subtly jerk your head up, signaling for him to speak first.

Peter clears his throat, looks down at his shoes, then back up at you. “I know you’ve been hiding from me.”

“You do?” you squeak, eyes wide.

“Yeah, and it’s okay.”

Your voice hikes an octave. “It is?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s fine. I get it.” He stops to scratch the back of his neck and dejectedly rambles on, “I’m not the safest person to be around, and it’s all super weird and a lot to take in. Like, a lot. My Aunt May freaked out too when she found out. Anyway, I… I get it if you don’t, y’know, don’t want me.”

“Wait, hold on,” you interrupt, trying to wrap your head around what he said. “You think… you think I don’t want you because you’re Spider-Man?”

“Well, yeah.” He says it like there couldn’t be any other possible reason.

You lower your gaze to the ground, unable to meet his curious gaze. “No, Peter, that’s not it.” Tears prick your eyes, but you fight like hell to keep them from falling. Steeling yourself, you quietly confess, “It’s me. I can’t be your Soulmate because…” A rebellious tear rolls down your cheek. “Because I’m not ready.”

As soon as you spoke the truth out loud, laying yourself and your broken soul bare, you dimly sense the previously severed string quiver deep down inside your chest. It’s the first time you felt it in five years, and it’s not how you remember it. It’s not severed, but it’s not whole either. Its presence only reminds you of what you can’t have, what you aren’t ready for.

In the ensuing quiet, you swipe the tear off your cheek and look at everything except Peter. Yellow tulips are blooming on someone’s balcony in the neighboring apartment building. A handful of fluffy clouds float in the piercing blue sky. An orange tabby cat is sun-bathing in a window.

It’s such a beautiful day. Yet, here you are, struggling not to cry on a roof.

Peter breaks through the silence, murmuring, “To be honest, I’m not ready either.”

“Really?” You ask, a little too hopeful, bringing your eyes back to his. They look so weary yet resolute.

“Yeah. I was actually freaking out that night we met.” He timidly grins, and your heart flips. “I didn’t know what to say, then I screwed up and forgot to ask if you were okay after I had literally just saved you from falling. Not really a glowing first impression.”

Astonishing yourself, you laugh. You couldn’t help it. There was absolutely nothing remotely hilarious about that night, but the way Peter described it, as if it were a blunder solely on his part, was so ridiculous that it was funny. Peter joins in, too, his laugh coming out airy and wondrously addictive. That smile you couldn’t stop thinking about for a whole week brightens his face.

When the laughs fade, Peter soberly says, “Even if we aren’t ready, maybe we can try being friends, just to see where things go? I mean, we were meant to be together for a reason, right? This could be it.”

You unconsciously nibble on your lower lip, considering his proposal. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might want to be friends. Would you want to do that? These days, you aren’t really open to platonic relationships, and Soulmate or not, being in a friendship would require some sort of connection. You don’t like those much.

Be that as it may, Peter seems like the type to respect your many boundaries, and that’s exactly what you would prefer in a friend at the moment. Someone who doesn’t pry. Someone who doesn’t uphold generic expectations. You could go for a diner talk every once in a while.

Besides, it’s just a little friendship. Most are surface level, and some don’t even last a year. What’s the worst that could happen?

You sincerely smile at Peter, wondering about the last time your smiles were sincere, and say, “Okay. Let’s be friends.”

His face radiates joy. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, I think we can do that. But I have a few terms.”

Peter eagerly nods, waiting.

You try not to focus on how his happiness thrills you. “One, don’t tell anyone we’re Soulmates. I don’t really want any of my coworkers to know.”

His smile drops into a sheepish wince. “I kinda already told Ned. But he won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“That’s okay. It’s mostly my coworkers I’m worried about,” you reassure. You weren’t going to berate him for telling his best friend. If things were different, you’d have done the same. “Two, don’t ask me to hang out with your other friends. I don’t do big friend circles.”

“Got it,” he militantly nods again. “It’s mostly just Ned and me anyway.”

“And three,” your grin broadens. “If Chris asks you what’s going on between us, be super vague.”

“Done.” He smirks back at you, then extends his hand. “Friends?”

When your hand touches his, and you shake on it, the warmth of his palm thaws out all your remaining anxiety. “Friends.”

✦ ✧✦ ✧

When Monday rolls around, a tiny ball of doubt weighs you down.

It’s not that you were afraid of talking to Peter. You were actually looking forward to getting to know him now that you officially became friends. It’s the future you’re stuck on. What happens if you get too attached to this friendship and want more? What if friendship is all he wants? What if it’s the other way around?

If you were honest with yourself, you’d know which way the gage is leaning, and it’s not in your favor.

You’re cleaning off the bar top when Peter comes in, doing his usual greeting with Chris before settling down on a barstool in front of you. He’s a little high strung, leaning his chin on his hand, then thinking against it, only to do it again. It was oddly comforting to know that he was overthinking too.

The corners of your lips tug up in a soft smile. “Hi, Peter.”

Your face warms as he smiles back. “Hey, Y/N.”

Chris barges in, leaning his elbows on the bar top and gaping incredulously at you and Peter. “Woah, woah, woah! Did I miss something? Since when are you two speaking in public?”

Peter checks his watch. “About thirty-seven seconds ago.”

“Oh, come on, dude. At least tell me what happened.”

You and Peter share a knowing look like two conniving co-conspirators sharing an inside joke, and you giggle as Chris huffs in annoyance. He glumly storms off when you two stay hushed, muttering, “Fine, next time you need a middle-man, count me out.”

“Does he hold grudges?” Peter asks after Chris walks out of earshot.

You’re still shaking with giggles. “Not at all. He’ll be back to his happy self in less than an hour.”

Peter only stays at Hal’s for twenty-five minutes, but they were the funniest and most intriguing twenty-five minutes you ever worked.

The conversation began slowly at first, but each question loosened the formalities. Peter asked about easy things: when did you get into art, when did you start working at Hal’s, and when was your birthday, all while digging into his slice of pie. He caught on fast enough to know the topic of parents was off-limits, and he thankfully chose to stay away from any talk of the blip.

When you asked him questions, he was open and responsive, jumping at the chance to talk about his passion for bio-sciences and Star Wars, sometimes covertly mentioning some of the duties he has a Spider-Man. Not a minute was wasted. You talked while serving customers and cleaning tables, keeping up the joke of staying quiet when Chris tried to meddle.

It all turned out smoother than you expected. Almost too smooth, and you’re not sure if that’s good or bad.

You are sure about one thing, though. You like having Peter as a friend.

...

Part V

#peter parker #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #spider-man x black!reader #spider-man x reader #soulmate au #post endgame #pre far from home #peter parker soulmate au #peter parker angst #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #marvel fanfic #black!reader #slow burn #how to trust a heart #peter parker fluff

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jungshookz · 5 years

Note

ok but like what if jungkook and y/n are at a hockey match and a kiss cam lands on them but they're both strangers

➺ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre: biRTHDAY-themed fluff that is so utterly sweet you will undoubtedly get like ten cavities after reading this; tae demolished a whole serving of cheesy fries and he’s not feeling so good mr stark; namjoon & y/n bond over the fact that they just don’t get hockey

➺ wordcount: 4.6k

➺ note: happy birthday to the man that not only owns my heart but also my whOLE ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh my goD i love him!!!!!!!!!!!! u ruin my life but also make it ten times better!!!!!!!!

(gif isn’t mine!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“remind me again why jimin couldn’t come with you instead?” you scowl when someone bumps into you from behind and you instinctively reach down to pull your purse to your front

…what??

you haven’t cashed in your latest paycheque and you don’t want anyone steaLing your hard-earned money

you stumble into tae’s back when someone knocks into you again

you would think that people would have the common decency to be a little more polite but no

this is so not your scene

plus you saw an army of ants feasting on the carcass of a cockroach in the washroom and you immediately hightailed it ouT of there

your bladder is just going to have to wait til you return to safety of your own toilet

tae told you he’d be happy to chug down a gallon of soda and give you the cup to pee in and you nearly considered it because that would probably be cleaner than the washrooms here

“because- yeah, two forks, please - because he had some dumb work thing that he couldn’t skip out on and i wasn’t going to waste my front row tickets!” tae scoffs as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world

well

that’s fair, you suppose

“you really couldn’t invite anybody else? i was your next choice?” you cling to the back of tae’s jersey because everyone keeps shoving into you and you feel like you’re going to be carriEd away by a hoard of sweaty hockey fans if you don’t hold on to something

you don’t mean to sound ungrateful because it is really nice of taehyung to have invited you to this apparently suPer big-deal of a hockey game (you’re pretty sure the fans here would rip each other apart to get their hands on a front row ticket) but like ?///???

you aren’t exactly a super enthusiastic sports person

sure, you’ll watch a couple matches if it’s on the tv while you’re cleaning up your apartment or if you just need some noise in the apartment but it’s not something that you actively seek out to watch

if anything you’re 100% more likely to watch spongebob squarepants over a sports game

you just don’t see the appeal of watching grown men (anD women! ur a feminist! girls are great!) gliding around on ice clickity-clacking a tiny puck here and there with wooden sticks while very aggressively shOving into each other at the same time

also the names of the hockey teams are always so dumb

you could probably come up with a better hockey team name because all you have to do is pick an adjective and then pick an animal

the screaming giraffes

the wailing whales

the condescending toads

you would pay good money to watch a match between the screaming giraffes and the wailing whales

you’re not sure if the condescending toads would make a good name now that you think about it

“aw, c’mon! it’s not like you had any other plans, anyways.” tae raises a brow at you and you immediately scoff

he has a good point.,.,., but stiLL

“i totally had plans!”

“ordering a party sized serving of chicken alfredo and garlic bread and watching netflix doesn’t count as plans.”

…okay anoTHer good point

the seats that you guys got are actually pretty good

you’re located right in the middle so you get an equal view of the goal on the right and the goal on the left

it’s not like you’re going to be paying attention to the game but still

very nice!

“can you believe we only had to pay $5 for all of this?” tae laughs lightly in disbelief as he rubs his hands together and looks down at the foot-long hot dog sitting on his lap

“…it should be concerning that we got all of this for $5.” you mutter under your breath and stare down at the plastic-looking cheese smothered over the fries

you told tae not to go overboard with the food but of course he didn’t listen to you which is why you guys are sharing a foot-long chilli cheese dog anD an extra large order of chilli cheese fries and a slurpee served in a literal bucket

usually you’d be down to inhale all of this but uh

you don’t want to sound snooty or anything but you saw one of the employees accidentally drop an entire bag of cheese into the pot before quickly fishing it out with their bare hands and you’re pretty sure that’s a health code violation

you mentioned it to tae and he said it wasn’t a big deal and- well, he’s already starting to scarf down the hot dog

side note

these fries are actually really good

you stab a few more of them with your fork before shovIng the biteful into your mouth and gently dabbing some cheese sauce off your chin with your napkin

just because you’re starving doesn’t mean all your manners are going to fly out the damn window

you didn’t eat breakfast this morning so this is a great first meal

“vou know what fhe beft part iv of sitting in the front?” tae asks through a faT mouthful of hot dog and you immediately wince in respond

men are disgusting

“what?” you reach over to wipe tae’s mouth with a napkin because both his hands are occupied by the almost offensively large hotdog

he swallows his bite before licking some chilli from the corner of his mouth

again

men are disgusting

“sometimes the hockey players get sLammed right up against the protective shield right in front of us.” tae gestures to the clear plastic panels separating the crowd from the rink “and if you’re really lucky, you get to see someone lose a tooth or something!”

you immediately make a face

“wha- how is that-“

“jungkook, over here! i found our seats!” you glance over for a second when someone quite literally scReams out loud for their friend

and then you’re turning to face tae again

“as i was saying,” you pause for a brief second when tae reaches over to take the fries from you, “how the hell is that the best part about sitting in the fr-“

you jump in surprise when what feels like a whole handful of popcorn suddenly scatters down on your head and onto your lap

oh coMe ON

you just washed your hair this morning!!!!!

the crumbs are going to look like you have veRy bad dandruff

also this is heavily buTTERED popcorn which means that the grease stains on your jeans are probably going to be there for the rest of your life

and these jeans were expeNSIVE

>:-(

this hockey game is not a very fun experience so far

“oh shit, sorry!”

“it’s all good, it’s all good…” you mutter as you flick a kernel of popcorn off your shoulder

yep

there’s a speck of grease on your sweater

greAt

“just be careful with that drink of yours because i-“ you look up to-

o-oh

oh god

oh god the popcorn guy is cute

and not just cute

he’s like.,,. he’s suPER CUTE

round brown eyes

obscenely perfectly tousled black hair

he definitely looks to be around your age which is a big fat bonus

although that colour-block hoodie of his is making him look a lot younger you still think it’s safe to say he’s probably around your age

“sorry, miss… the plastic lids here are flimsy as hell and mine keeps popping off so you can’t blame me if i get you wet!” the guy flashes you a boyish smile and you feel your mouth go dry

oh dear lord

have mercy

“hey- you want extra chilli on your half of the hot dog?” you’re rudely poPped out of your little bubble when taehyung suddenly elbows your side

“wh- what? what?” you tear your eyes away from the handsome stranger who’s making himself comfortable in the seat right next to you before clearing your throat and looking over at tae

“extra chilli!” tae chirps and raises your half of the hot dog up a little

he already finished his half which isn’t a huge surprise

to be honest he was going to just go ahead and finish the hot dog but he figured it’d be nice to at least offer you a bite

“-i even asked for an extra little container of chopped up onions because i know you like-“

“no!” you blurt out and whack the container of onions out of tae’s hand causing it to smAck against the plastic divider before clattering to the ground

the two of you blink down at it

tae purses his lips before subtly kicking as much of it as possible under his seat

“i, um, i’m actually not that hungry. you can finish the hot dog.” you clear your throat again before unscrewing the lid of your bottle of water and taking a tentative, ladylike sip

“…what are you talking about? you were going to town on those cheesy fries like five seconds ago- oW-“

“jungkook, over here! i found our seats!” jungkook perks up when he sees namjoon waving him over

there he is!

he was starting to get worried that namjoon wandered off somewhere or somehow locked himself in the supply closet or something

namjoon put him in charge of snack duty and he went aLL out

popcorn? check!

roasted peanuts? double check!

blue-flavoured slurpee? triple check!

he actually ended up getting two drinks because namjoon likes to bite the straw and jungkook doesn’t want to share a drink with a straw-biter

“here, i’ll take the peanuts and my drink-“ namjoon plucks the paper bag and the plastic cup cradled in jungkook’s arms before he steps aside to let him squeeze into the aisle

namjoon actually won these hockey game tickets from a raffle at work and jungkook almost exploded with joy when he invited him to come and watch it with him

it was actually pretty perfect timing because the game just so happened to land on jungkook’s birthday

namjoon gave jungkook the best birthday present and he didn’t even have to spend a dime

:’)

“s’cuse me, sorry-“ jungkook weasels his way in between the aisles and carefully steps over people’s legs as he makes his way to his seat exciTEdly

he’s never been to a live sports game before!!!

and he’s definitely never been in the froNt row of anything before!!!!

two birds with one fAt stone!

also he-

“oh shit, sorry!” he gasps when he accidentally tips his carton of popcorn a little bit causing it to land all over the stranger seated next to his spot

shiT

there goes half his popcorn

he’s not going to go back up to the concessionary stand to get more popcorn because the game is about to start and the line is probably still half a mile long

“it’s all good, it’s all good…” jungkook winces to himself and feels his cheeks heat up a little as he watches you brush the popcorn to the ground

yikes

he’s about to sit down when suddenly you speak up again “just be careful with that drink of yours because i-“

jungkook feels his heart skip a beat when you look up at him

oh wowie you’re pretty

…he just spilt his greasy popcorn all over a very pretty girl

double yikes

it’s fine

just play it cool

he can play it cool

“sorry…” jungkook raises his cup a little “the plastic lids here are flimsy as hell and mine keeps popping off so you can’t blame me if i get you wet!”

he immediately pales as soon as that tumbles out of his mouth

wha-

what the HELL was that?!?!?!

out of all the things he could’ve said

his three and a half brain cells came up with thAT

you can’t blame me if i get you wet???????

you probably think he’s some kind of weird peRVERT now

luckily your boyfriend starts talking to y-

huh

you have a boyfriend

of course you have a boyfriend

jungkook lets out a little huff before plopping down on the plastic seat

whatever >:-(

namjoon leans over and glances into the popcorn bag before frowning

damnit

he just wanted some popcorn

:-(

“holy shiT, did you see that backhand????” tae practically screeches as he reaches over and slaps your arm aggressively “y/n, did you see it????”

“i saw- i sAW it, i saw it!” you scowl and smack his hands away from you

“oh my god, that was legEndary-“

you can barely hear tae’s enthusiastic blabbering because all you can hear is the sound of skates shrEdding up the ice and the sound of the puck being whacked back and forth and also cheers and whOops from all of these diehard fans

you honestly have no idea what the hell is going on right now

all you know is that the two teams are tied right now and everYone’s getting frustrated

you’re not sure which team you should be rooting for so you’re just basing it off of which uniform you like better

in other words, you’re cheering on the pUrpLe team!

also no one’s been smacked up against the plastic divider yet which is a huge relief because you’re not sure if you want to see anyone lose any teeth today

“will you cut it out?? your future girlfriend probably isn’t going to appreciate it if you’re practically beating her up-“

jungkook perks up immediately when he hears that come out of your mouth

so that guy isn’t your boyfriend!

nice!!!!!

that means he still has a chance even though he dumped like a pound of popcorn on you and almost drenched you in his blue-flavoured slurpee

also he didn’t mean to eavesdrop

it’s just hard noT to eavesdrop when you’re sitting right next to him

he’s been paying attention to the game because duH but also he keeps thinking about how cute u look when you have a mouthful of french fries

also

now he knows that your name is y/n which is actually pretty fitting

you look like a y/n

it’s cute!

on an unrelated note

u smell rly nice but he can’t quite put his finger on what that particular scent is

jungkook’s nose twitches

“what do you mean the game isn’t over yet??” you groan and plop yourself back down in the seat “there was an intermission like half an hour ago!!!”

“there are two intermissions, you whiney baby!” tae scowls

you need to chill

you’re acting like watching a hockey game is equivalent to getting your teeth pulled out

you’re being a bABy

if he can sit through hours and houRS of your reality tv shows you can sit through one hockey game

“so…” namjoon pauses for a second “the game… isn’t over?”

“nope! there’s one more round.” jungkook chirps and shovels a handful of popcorn into his mouth

“oh.” namjoon slumps back in his seat a little

he thought the game was over

to be honest he was ready to leave before the first intermission but jungkook looked like he was having the time of his life so he decided to wait it out

“so what are we supposed to do now?” namjoon furrows his brows “do they just expect us to wait and do nothing?”

“well, no, they’re doing that thing where-“ jungkook immediately chokes when he suddenly sees his face on the jumbotron

and unsurprisingly

your face is also on the jumbotron

“y/n-“

“hold on, i’m about to beat my high score-“ your tongue pokes out in concentration as you focus on your very intense session of tetris

“y/n-“ tae hisses and punches your arm

“ow!” you whine and rub your sore arm

tae’s been hitting you for the duration of the whole game and you’re pretty sure your arm is about to fall off

he needs to cut it out

he knoWs you bruise like a pEACH

“-what did i tell you about hitting me???” you put your phone down and turn to glare at tae

“you’re on the- look!!!!” tae points to the front and-

you immediately pale when you realise that yes, that is most definitely your face on the jumbotron right now, and yes, you and jungkook, the very handsome stranger that you definitely already have a crush on, are currently trapped inside of a big pinK heart with the words ‘KISS CAM’ floating on top of the heart

oh god

you can’t kiss him

you still taste like cheesy fries

and your lips are chapped

and your tongue is stained blue from the slurpee

you can’T KISS HIM

and also he’s a literal stranger but most importantly you are not in the right state to be kisSEd right NOW

“oh, no-“ you shake your head quickly before making a slicing gesture over your neck “we’re not- we’re not together!”

jungkook glances at you for a brief second and he can sEe the panic in your eyes

okay

he was down to kiss you but obviously you don’t feel the same way which is totally understandable but stiLL

oh well

he might as well join in on the protesting

“right, yeah- we don’t know each other!” jungkook shakes his hand at the camera and you flash a sheepish smile at the camera before shrugging

the crowd immediately erupts into boos and you immediately scoff before turning to face the people behind you

“excuse-” you gawk when someone has the audacity to thrOW a handful of popcorn down at you guys “-excuse you!”

you turn back to face the camera and shake your head before holding your arms up and crossing one over the other

“sorry! we’re not going to kiss!!!!!!!!”

you shoot a glare in tae’s direction when he joins in on the booing

sometimes you don’t know why you’re friends with him because he’s literally suCH a moRON

“seriously, we’re not- oh, okay-“ you let out a breath of relief when the camera moves away from the two of you

you immediately slump back in your seat

phEW

that was a close call

if ur going to kiss jungkook it’s going to be because he wantS to kiss you and noT because he’s being forCed to kiss you

“sorry about that…” he turns to look at you and you immediately perk up

“no, you have nothing to apologise for! don’t sweat it.” you laugh lightly and shake your head before digging through your purse for a stick of gum

your breath still tastes like cheesy fries and it’s not very pleasant

“i, uh, i’m jungkook, by the way.” jungkook sticks his hand out for you to shake

he’s… introducing himself to you

…does that mean… he might be… interested in you…?

much to think about

you take his hand gently before offering him a shy smile “i’m y/n.”

“and i’m taehyung!” tae leans over and shoots jungkook a boxy smile “i would shake your hand but my fingers are still sticky with cheese.”

your eyes flutter shut and you pinch the bridge of your nose

kim taehyung is the absolute bane of ur existence

“it’s nice to meet you guys. uh, this is-“ jungkook glances over his shoulder “this is namjoon!”

“hey, hi.” namjoon smiles politely and nods to the both of you in acknowledgement “are you guys big hockey fans?”

“i’m not, but tae is-“ you laugh lightly and namjoon’s eyes liGht up

“i’m not that big of a fan either! i honestly don’t really get it!“

“right??” you gasp in excitement because now you have someone you can actually talk to about this stuff “what’s the big deal with a group of grown men gliding around and-“

“i know!! also i always lose track of where the puck is-“

taehyung and jungkook lean back slightly to give each other the same looks of ‘do you hear what i’m hearing right now?’

“i don’t see what the point is of having two intermissions-“ you nearly jump ten feet into the air when the crowd suddenly buRsts into cheers and for a second you think it’s because the game is resuming

but nO

because take a WILD guess as to whose faces are up on the jumbotron aGAIN

“wha- are you people serious?!” you gawk as you stare at yourself at the screen

…is that really what you look like?

you look weirder when you’re up on the big screen for some reason

you don’t get a chance to dwell on the fact that people can probably see your pores from how HD the camera is because the next thing you know, the crowd is beginning to chant

“kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss!”

jungkook lets out a nervous laugh and shakes his head before reaching up to pluck at the silver hoop hanging from his ear (it’s a nervous hAbit and he is very vERY nervous right now) “sorry, we’re not going to!”

“kiSS! kiSS! kiSS! kiSS!”

“you heard the guy!” you gesture over to jungkook “we’re not doing it, you pERverts!”

it seems like the audience couldn’t give leSS of a shit because every time you and jungkook say that you two aren’T going to kiss they become more riled up

even taehyung and namjoon have joined in on the chanting

namjoon can’t help but snort when jungkook turns to look at him with briGht red cheeks

if ya can’t beat em join em!!!

“we’re going to be here all day! just move on!”

“KISS!”

“we’re not going to kiss!!!!!!!”

“KISS!”

“we don’t even know each other!”

“KISS!”

“my lips are suPer chapped!”

“KISS!”

“take a hint!”

“oh for the love of god-“ jungkook’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when you’re suddenly grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him towards you and-

his heart stops in his chest when you press your lips against his and he immediately freezes

o god

you’re kissing him

you’re kiSsing HIM

you pull away far too soon for jungkook’s liking (it was obviously only meant to be a peck) and jungkook blinks owlishly

wha-

is that it?????

that’s all????

you are riPPING him off

“there, we kissed! are you freAKS happ-“ before you get a chance to get all smug with the camera jungkook’s yanking you back and smearing his lips over yours

the crowd now eRUPTS into cheers and screams and namjoon is literally screeching his head off next to jungkook

taehyung isn’t doing any better

he threw his half-eaten hot dog up into the aIR

and for a brief second jungkook thinks you’re going to freak out and pull away but he’s more than pleasantly surprised when you begin to kiss him back

also he figured out what u smell like and why he likes it so much

it’s because you smell like his favourite fabric softener

and if that’s not a sign that you’re basically perFect for him then he doesn’t know what is!!!!

jungkook reaches up to cup your cheek gently while your fingers curl around the nape of his neck

needless to say

you are vERy much making out with a stranger right now (your mom would probably flip if she found out) but you most definitely don’t give a hECK because jungkook’s lips are so soft and he tastes like buttery popcorn

the tiniest of whimpers slips past your lips when jungkook teases you with small brushes of his tongue against yours

he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and all of a sudden you feel lightheaded and your entire body feels like jello

he’s such a good kisser that you nearly forget the fact that the two of you are making out in front of like 20,000 people right now

a smirk twitches at the corner of jungkook’s mouth when he pulls away and you immediately respond with a whine

it started off with you getting him all flustered but obviously the tables have turned because you are just putty in his hands and he knows it

“jungkook…” you sigh breathlessly as he nudges his nose against yours

oH boy

your soul definitely left your body

you’re still floating on cloud nine

meanwhile the crowd is still compLETELY losing it because they were just expecting a little pek and not THIS

“yeah?” jungkook takes his bottom lip in between his teeth as he resists the urge to lean in and kiss you again

“i think this means you have to take me out on a date now.”

“…i think you might be right.”

best

birthday

ever

:-)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble masterlist // main masterlist

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strandbuckley · 4 years

Text

Of Co-parenting and Peanut Allergies

“You okay superman?” Buck handed him a napkin to wipe his face. “Buck my throat feels funny,” he continued to cough. His little hand came up to his chest as he tried to catch his breath. “I can’t- I can’t breathe.” His breaths had become shallow and wheezy and Buck was starting to get concerned. Then it hit him, the sundae had peanuts in it. “Buck,” Christopher gasped, tears were streaming down his cheeks. “Hey it’s okay,” he pulled Christopher into his lap and held him firmly. “You’re having an allergic reaction bud. Just try to breathe.”

*****

When out with Buck, Christopher has an allergic reaction.

(I have no idea where I came up with this but enjoy anyway)

Read on ao3 here

It was always slightly concerning when someone who wasn’t Buck, Carla or Abuela called Eddie at work. It was even more concerning that when he ignored the unknown number, they called twice more.

“Just answer it,” Bobby said on the third call. “Obviously it’s important.”

“Yeah you’re probably right.”

Eddie stepped away from the team, walking downstairs to privacy as he answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“Is this Edmundo Diaz?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“I’m calling from Los Angeles general hospital. Your son Christopher was just admitted.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Eddie couldn’t keep the panicked edge out of his voice.

“It seems like an allergic reaction.”

“Who brought him in?”

“Evan Buckley. He’s on Christopher’s papers as an emergency contact.”

“Oh thank God,” his heart left his throat and moved back down to his chest when he found out Buck was with him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you.”

He hung up and raced up the stairs stumbling out a quick explanation to Bobby.

All he really caught was, “Christopher, hospital,” but that was explanation enough for him.

*****

“Buck?” Christopher asked as they weaved through the zoo parking lot back to Buck’s car.

“Yeah buddy?”

“Can we go get ice cream?”

“That sounds like a great idea Chris. Just don’t tell your dad,” Buck helped Chris into the backseat. “He thinks I spoil you.”

Chris mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key which made Buck laugh.

He took them to their favorite ice cream place, a small locally owned one that was way better than any of the chains.

Buck ordered a sundae for them to share and they munched happily as Christopher talked about the animals he’d seen and how excited he was to tell his dad.

The sundae had almost been devoured when Christopher started to cough.

“You okay superman?” Buck handed him a napkin to wipe his face.

“Buck my throat feels funny,” he continued to cough. His little hand came up to his chest as he tried to catch his breath. “I can’t- I can’t breathe.”

His breaths had become shallow and wheezy and Buck was starting to get concerned. Then it hit him, the sundae had peanuts in it.

“Buck,” Christopher gasped, tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey it’s okay,” he pulled Christopher into his lap and held him firmly. “You’re having an allergic reaction bud. Just try to breathe.”

“Is he alright?” one of the teenage employees approached them, looking concerned.

“He’s having an allergic reaction. Call 9-1-1.”

The girl nodded and whipped out her cellphone, dialing the number. She answered the initial questions dutifully before turning to Buck.

“Does he have an epi pen?”

“No, his prescription hasn’t been filled yet.”

The girl relayed the information to the operator and kept them on the line.

“Ambulance is five minutes out,” she told Buck.

Christopher’s hands were clutching tightly at his arms while he struggled for breath.

“It’s okay,” Buck spoke lowly, trying to soothe him, rubbing small circles on his chest.

He could hear the sirens approaching and he gathered Chris into his arms to meet the EMTs at the door.

“What’s his name?” the paramedic asked, taking Chris from his arms. He struggled, trying to reach back for Buck but they put him on the gurney and strapped him in.

“Christopher, he’s eight. He’s allergic to peanuts but we don’t have his epi pen yet. He also has cerebral palsy.”

“Are you his father? 1, 2.”

They lifted the gurney into the ambulance and Buck climbed up next to them and sat on the bench out of the way.

“I’m his father’s boyfriend. We’re both firefighters and his dad is at work.”

“Okay, we’re gonna give him epinephrine.”

One of the other paramedics handed him the prefilled syringe and he turned back to Christopher. Someone had already put an oxygen mask on him and he was clinging to Buck’s arm like a lifeline.

“Hi Christopher, my name is Adam. We’re gonna give you this shot and it’s gonna make you feel a lot better okay?”

Christopher nodded and Adam plunged the needle into his thigh, holding it for a count of three then releasing.

“Good job Christopher, you’re a brave little guy.”

Christopher continued to cling to Buck’s hand as the wheezing stopped and his breaths evened out.

“I want my daddy,” he whimpered behind the mask.

“I know kiddo. They’ll call him when we get to the hospital and he’ll come meet us okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re doing so good Christopher. You’re so brave.”

At the hospital Buck had to stay behind and fill out paperwork while they got Christopher settled. By then the epinephrine had kicked in and he was kind of out of it, but it still broke Buck’s heart to hear him cry for him.

Eddie came rushing into the lobby as Buck was finishing the last of his paperwork.

“Hey baby,” he greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. “Is Chris okay?”

“They’ve got him in a room. I haven’t been in yet but they gave him epinephrine in the ambulance and they’re gonna want to keep him overnight.”

Eddie nodded, “How did he even get peanuts?”

“We went to get ice cream after we went to the zoo and I didn’t realize there were nuts in the sundae until after he started reacting. I’m sorry Eddie.”

“Buck it’s not your fault, you didn’t know. He’s okay now and that’s what matters.”

“Are you guys with Christopher Diaz?” a nurse asked when he approached.

“Yes.”

“He’s stable and everything looks great. We’re gonna keep him overnight for observation but he should be good to go in the morning. You can go see him now.”

“Thank you,” Eddie said before he and Buck speed walked down the hall to his son's room.

Christopher was in the bed, hooked to an iv looking a little out of it, but he still lifted his arms to his father when he saw him.

“Hi mijo,” Eddie scooted into the bed, lifting Christopher gently to hold him in his lap. “How do you feel?”

“My throat is itchy,” he whined.

“I'm sure it is buddy. The medicine they gave you will help with that.”

“I couldn't breathe daddy. I was scared,” he tucked his face into Eddie’s shoulder and he held him close, cradling that back of his head with one hand.

“I know but Buck said you were so brave even when they gave you a shot. I’m proud of you kiddo.”

“Do I have to stay dad?”

“Just for tonight. We can go home in the morning.”

“Eddie give me the keys, I’m gonna run home and grab us some clothes. I know you don’t want to spend the night in your uniform.”

Eddie fished the keys out of his pocket and handed them off, “Thanks Buck.”

“I'll be right back Christopher. Do you want anything from home?”

“My bear.”

“You got it kiddo.”

At the house, Buck rounded up clothes for himself and Eddie and ducked into Christopher’s room to get him clothes and his bear. Buck smiled fondly as he picked up the bear and hugged it for a minute.

He and Eddie had taken Chris to Build-A-Bear as a treat for getting all As on his last report card. Chris had picked out a fluffy black bear and dressed it in a firefighter uniform. He slept with the thing every night.

He tossed their bags in the backseat of Eddie’s truck and buckled the bear into the passenger seat next to him, knowing Christopher would want him to.

When he arrived at the hospital Chris was fast asleep, still propped up in Eddie’s arms.

Buck changed into comfy clothes first, then switched places with Eddie, gingerly shifting Christopher into his arms and tucking the bear into his hands. Christopher snuggled it in his sleep, pressing his nose to the soft fur.

When Eddie emerged from the bathroom he slid onto the other side of the bed. Hospital beds weren’t really made for two six foot men and one very lanky eight year old but they made it work. Both of them wanted to be close to their kid.

“Thanks for taking care of him today,” Eddie whispered as they settled in to sleep.

“It was kinda my fault.”

“Hey don’t do that. It was a mistake Buck, I told you that. And no one blames you.”

Buck nodded, “First thing tomorrow I’m going to get his damn epi-pen.”

“Good plan.”

#911 #911 on fox #911 fox #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #my works #fic

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squeeneyart · 4 years

Text

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 5

AO3

Beta reader was @thesnadger!

Some thoughts on where to go next.

Martin is as helpful as he can be.

Their business finished, Jon and Martin exchanged a friendly “See you tomorrow” and went their separate ways. Jon turned on his heel and took the first turn out of sight. Martin, still holding his groceries, pressed his head against a nearby building and said under his breath, “God, you’re predictable. Smiles at you once and you’re done for. Must be a record.”

It had been a nice smile, though. Maybe at some point he would get to see a non-nervous one, the kind where the person’s face seems to open up like- No, he was not going to fall into poetic daydreaming, not this soon. Good lord.

He stood up straight, fixing his hair and checking for any witnesses. With the coast clear, he started the long walk home. It was fine. Martin wasn’t a complete idiot. He would accept the good news that Jon didn’t despise him and would roll with it, trying his best not to muck it up with more stupid mistakes. Then, with either their time used up or the investigation completed, all three of them would be gone.

The thought struck him hard, and Martin almost stumbled from the emotional whiplash. It had been, what, a day and a half? Surely not long enough to miss them that much, especially the person who had only just started being nice to him ten minutes ago. But Martin knew himself better than that.

Jon had been nice, just as Tim and Sasha had been nice, and he was going to miss the company when they had to leave. It was natural to feel sad about it, he told himself, but eventually their leaving would be a relief. The one-sided affection would have no room for hoping or growing otherwise. At the same time, he might as well enjoy the company of interesting people. Interesting people who wanted to help him, even! Jon had said he’d wanted to work together to figure things out, so that’s what Martin would try to do.

As long as it didn’t get him fired. As long as nothing they did fucked over any chance of employment. As long as his place of work didn’t eat him out of a hunger for vengeance.

Pushing those sour thoughts deep into the back of his consciousness, Martin focused on the morning’s events the rest of the way home. Plans of action formed in his mind, most of them related to the task at hand, a few needing to be waved away as wishful thinking. There was work to be done.

It took quite a bit of digging through crumpled and disorganized paperwork he’d saved from many unsuccessful attempts at employment, but after lunch, Martin sat on his bed with his original work contract. At the bottom was the signature of Peter Lukas, and in the bottom left corner was the stamped Lukas family crest, which Martin had seen every day on a small plaque adorning the lighthouse interior, right over his desk.

It was a simple and rather generic image of a black and white shield, framed by an albatross and a laughably inaccurate seal that Martin couldn’t help but gawk at years after he’d first seen it. He wondered if the artist responsible had had to work with someone telling them what a seal looked like from memory or if the family just hadn’t cared too much for accuracy. Based on the strange ideas Peter would spout at times of how the ocean worked, Martin would bet on the latter. Maybe the whole family was just like that?

Either way, it was equal parts ridiculous and unnerving as it lurked over Martin’s shoulder during the work day but didn’t have much use to him otherwise. He was no expert on symbolism and there was nothing he could see that would relate the crest to the task at hand.

Martin leafed through the work contract, glazing over benefits and salary before stopping on the section labeled “Employee Assignments and Other Expected Duties”.

“Sec. III. The employee agrees to the following non-exhaustive list of duties:

-Be present at the premises between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm, Monday through Friday, including lunch break. -Complete bookkeeping for the employer, Mr. Peter Lukas, using materials delivered to the premises on Monday morning. Delivery will always be completed by the employee's set arrival time at 6am. If nothing is delivered, contact the main house for further instruction to procure materials. -Clean the interior of the premises at regular intervals, including the main entrance, bathroom, kitchen, and upper floors. -Between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm, complete the maintenance list of the top floor (see Sec. IV). This must be completed once every day of the week, including Saturday and Sunday, between the hours of 6 am and 4 pm. There is a zero-tolerance policy for lack of completion. -Inform unexpected visitors of the proper procedure for scheduling a paid tour of the premises (See Sec. V) -Accept packages and sign for if necessary.

Martin looked over the list, biting his cheek. He’d grown lax on staying until 4pm, but with Peter’s general lack of awareness, it had never come up. Otherwise, the duties seemed in line with what he remembered. He looked down to Section IV.

“As referred to in Sec. III, the employee will complete the following tasks during the hours of 6 am and 4 pm every day, including Saturday and Sunday:��

Following this was the list he had long ago written down and taped to his desk. There were no details relating to the purpose of each task, just procedure. He’d kept to the instructions consistently, every switch flipped and seemingly-pointless button pressed, though he’d been very close to missing the 4pm mark on several occasions because of the dreaded walk to the top. This list, again, wasn’t much help. He went over the document a few times then set it aside and flopped onto his back, scattering some loose papers to the floor.

He’d need to find some other angle. Research was a non-starter for him without experience, and as far as his town knowledge was concerned, it wasn’t wrong to call him forgetful in that area as well. It was likely he’d have to accept his part as an amateur tour guide. It didn’t feel like enough, but starting Monday, he’d be back to working and have no time to help anyway, unless their work somehow kept them late into the night.

Jon had been nice with all the working-together talk, but Martin knew he wouldn’t be of much use at all. If he wanted to be helpful, he should begin prepping for dinner.

As evening turned to night, Martin and his mother sat at the dining room table in silence, interrupted only by the light clinking of plates and utensils as they finished the pan-fried chicken and vegetables in front of them. Weekends were always better meal days, always leaving Martin feeling more satisfied with his cooking with all the time he had to focus on it. His mother showed no greater signs of enjoyment than eating without complaint.

“Mum, can I ask you something?” Martin ran his thumb against the smooth metal of his fork. “It’s about work.”

Martin’s mother paused from eating another bite of her meal. “What is it?” she asked, frowning.

Swallowing hard, Martin said, “How much have you had to deal with the Lukas family? There’s this research project being completed and it’s involving a lot of history, so I thought since you’ve lived here so long-”

“Long enough, yes.” Martin could see her nostril twitch. “They came in long before I did and will most likely stay until the fish run out. Otherwise, I kept to my business and they kept to theirs. No reason to get involved with people who wouldn’t bother walking down the hills on foot.”

“Right, it’s just-”

“I don’t feel like talking, Martin,” she said, her voice cracking slightly at his name. “My throat is too sore.”

“Right. Okay, I’ll get you some more water.” He picked up her glass to refill and bit back any other questions. Next to the sink was his mother’s pill case with the current day’s compartment still full. “We’ll get your meds done now, then. Should help a bit.” His mother didn’t respond, having already returned to her dinner.

Afterwards, she requested to step outside. “The night air is good for my lungs,” she argued as a matter of fact, and with no way to dissuade her, Martin completed their little ritual of walking out the door and standing in the fog-filled night in silence, his own face covered in an old scarf. His eyes watered in the dry, salty gale, and he wondered how much time it had taken for his mother to withstand the sting without any tears.

By mid-morning the next day, Martin had finished his duties upstairs. Sitting at the table, he listened to the group’s progress from after he had left them the day before. Spread across the table were photocopies of what looked like legal documents, some of the bare spots between them filled with used mugs of varying sizes.

“We weren’t able to stay there for long before it closed, but we were able to look up some records at the library yesterday,” Sasha explained, sifting through the papers. “Not a terrible archive, all things considered. We’re going to head there again tomorrow morning for a more in-depth look. We didn’t even get to looking for details on the construction of this place.”

“But!” Tim waved one of the copies above his head. “We did get some info on the Lukases themselves. Current residents in town, major stakeholders, that kind of stuff. And-” He pressed the sheet close to Martin’s face. It was a copy (of a copy) of a newspaper article featuring the lighthouse, with some figures standing at the entrance, including one Peter Lukas. “Martin, d’you know anything about the person who worked here before you? He’s one of the younger ones in the family, standing on the left.”

Martin scratched the back of his neck, squinting at the photo. “A bit? Evan Lukas, he was really nice from what I’d heard.”

Tim frowned, lowering his arm. “‘Was’?”

“Yeah, he passed away before I started working here. Peter said it was some heart thing. Runs in the family.” Tim slumped. “Sorry! I’m surprised the records didn’t say so. It was a pretty big deal, really shook people. It made the front page, though I never read the details.”

“Did you ever meet him?” Jon asked, tapping on the rim of his empty mug.

“Sort of? We went to school around the same time and were only a few years apart, which was weird since you wouldn’t expect him to go to a state school with a family like that? Anyway, that was years ago, but even after that you’d hear about him. He was gone for a while, actually, but somehow he ended up in this old place a few years back and, well, y’know.” Martin rubbed his hands.

“Hmmm.” Tim leaned back in his chair, flipping a pencil between his fingers. “Okay, well, that’s one person we probably can’t talk to outside of spookier means. Is there anyone who knew him well?”

Pausing for a moment, Martin said, “I think… no, yeah, he was engaged, but his fiancée left town pretty soon after he died. Don’t know anything about her except she wasn’t a local.” Silence stretched over them as Tim sat in his disappointment

“Well, shit,” Tim let out in an overblown sigh. Sasha patted Tim’s shoulder in sympathy. He grinned at her. “That’s all I’ve got, then. Time to call it a day?” he asked, earning himself a pinch on the ear.

“We’ll just have to go over the items we have until tomorrow,” Jon said, his sigh brimming with exhaustion. “Who knows, we might’ve missed something the first time. Before that, Martin, who was the person we missed yesterday? Would they be worth talking to?”

Hesitating, Martin responded, “Maybe? But if you’ve already got a way to look up historical stuff, it might be better to skip this one.” Jon raised an eyebrow at him and his stomach dropped at the attention.

“It’s just, he’s an eccentric person, difficult to track down, and while he knows the Lukas family pretty well, it’s only because their families do business. His family, the Fairchilds, they’re not a huge family in this town, but this guy, Simon, he’s, well. He’s this small, old man, right?” Martin tapped his foot, looking for something to say to end his babbling. “And you know the cliff behind the lighthouse? It’s got at least 150 meters straight down to sea?” The three nodded, and Martin smiled, his brows furrowed.

“Years ago, he dove right off the damned thing.”

Tim gaped over the railing, his breath floating over the edge. Sasha and Jon gaped slightly less, and from a safer distance, though that didn’t seem to save Jon from the effects of the harsh, cold wind that sent him shivering through a nothing of a windbreaker. Far below the cliff’s edge, down past the wind-worn rock and smattering of trees, through a thin layer of fog that cradled the seaside, there waited an incredibly harsh landing of sea and stone.

“But there’s a fuckload of rocks down there?” Tim sputtered.

Martin kept his gaze straight forward. “Yeah.”

“And even if he just hit water, I mean-”

“Made it out just fine.”

“And you were thinking of just skipping this guy? I don’t care if he’s unhelpful, I want to see if he can fly or something.” Tim stepped from the safety rails, giving one a good pat.

Sasha crossed her arms, eyeing the drop. “Do you know where we can find him?”

Martin scratched his face. “Most of the time he comes here to see Peter for business. Peter absolutely hates it since it’s usually out of nowhere, and Simon always claims he does it because he likes surprises, but I think he just likes to be irritating. Otherwise…” Turning to look at the lighthouse, Martin said, “I do know where Simon lives, and while I can’t guarantee he’ll want to speak to you about anything specific, he definitely loves to talk.”

“Is there anything he’s said to you about the Lukas family? Or the building?” Jon looked at Martin intently, clearly doing his best to not shiver.. “Anything that might’ve seemed like nothing more than gossip or reminiscing?”

With Jon staring at him, Martin’s brain sputtered to a stop. “I-I don’t think so? Like I said, he’s eccentric, so it’s hard to pick apart anything he says as being sincere or as a joke. He told me he was once a firebreather, and I still don’t know if I believe him. Sorry, I know that’s not super helpful.” Martin rubbed the back of his neck.

Jon relaxed his gaze, his corner of his mouth quirking down just a little. “It’s all right. If we can get a hold of him, we’ll ask him some simple questions and hopefully sift through any confusion. Right now, we can all stop giving ourselves vertigo and get back inside. It’s freezing out here.” Jon made a show of shoving his hands under his arms and walked back to the lighthouse.

“Poor guy’s circulation is shot, honestly. Could get hypothermia walking into a basement,” Tim teased behind his hand, not bothering to lower his voice as he leaned toward Sasha and Martin.

“Ha. Very funny.” Jon sent a withering glare over his shoulder and slipped indoors. They followed him back inside, and while the other three sat to discuss possible interview questions, Martin got another round of tea going. He had to have some of those to-go paper coffee cups somewhere in these cupboards, but no amount of looking revealed them. Instead, he managed to find one lonely travel mug and contemplated his options.

Would it be too obvious? Would Jon consider it him joining in on the teasing? At the thought of Jon stubbornly standing outside in a too-thin jacket, Martin resigned himself to whatever reaction he would receive. Either way, he'd get something warm in Jon’s hands so the little pang in his chest would go away.

When Martin brought him the mug, Jon looked suspicious but didn’t complain.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin #fanfic #au fanfic #selkie au

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exploding-plastic-inevitable · 4 years

Text

This or that tropes

tagged by @shiny-good-rock (thank you! my anxiety is doing a thing rn so this should be a fun distraction!)

Slow Burn or Love At First Sight (I don’t really like either tbh, but love at first sight has potential for interesting stuff with a character seeing another in action and wanting to be them and idealizing them, and how that mixes with attraction. it’s not a good set up to a healthy relationship of course, but the way its dysfunctional works for character exploration)

Fake Dating or Secret Dating (i’m a sucker for two people from conflicting factions having a relationship they hide, and i like some settings where societal homophobia and class divide makes secrecy in relationships a necessity)

Enemies to Lovers or Best Friends to Lovers (i really like characters who change a lot over the course of their story! and i like it when an antagonist switches sides and istead of dying or going to jail forever theres all kinds of messy working them into the group stuff)

Oh no, there’s only one bed! or Long-Distance with Correspondence (i like this for platonic immimacy more than anything, because thats what its been in my experance, but i can like a romantic angle if its done well (like in moby dick))

Hurt/Comfort or Amnesia ( i dont think amnesia is even really a popular fandom trope anymore )

Fantasy AU or Modern AU (i DO really like fantasy aus, but i like modern aus quite a bit more. especally when the setting is harsher on the characters then modern day would probably be and putting them in modern day lets them devolp in more possible directions)

Mutual Pining or Domestic Bliss (established relationships are underrated! plus having a couple whose happy and established leaves more room in the story to focus on other things)

Smut or Fluff (both are good, but you can do more with smut i think, as far as character dynamics and exploration goes)

Canon Compliant With Missing Scene or Fix-it Fic (i like both a lot, and while i wish i could say i didnt like fix it fic more... i do. althought not all fix it fic, my favorites are ones that undo an endiing that kills or otherwise destroys characters so they can have further stories)

Alternate Universe or Future Fic (i like the characters i like, not their kids haha)

One Shot or Multi-chapter (nnnnnn i’m not good at reading either way)

Kid Fic or Roadtrip (ppl often dont write kids so well, and i love roadtrips)

Reincarnation or Character Death (weirdly enough i think fic with character death scratches the same itch for me as fix it fic where characters live instead of die)

Arranged Marriage or Accidental Marriage (neither? but arranged marriage has potential as something to escape at least)

High School Romance or Middle Aged Romance (this is hard because i like a good high schoolers au that doesnt focus on romance but... well writen high school aus are pretty rare. i like stories about romance between employees at a high school, like a teacher and a janitor, while other characters are students, but those are even rarer. so...high school wins out but very narrowly)

Time Travel or Isolated Together (what if we self quarentined... together 😳😳😳)

Neighbors or Roommates (i’m an anatomized modern american and i dont know any of my neighbors by name :/. i think neighbors could be cool if it was a story about like... a rent strike tho, or in a setting where ppl talked to neighbors more)

Sci-fi AU or Magic AU (aaaa this is really hard because theres more you can do with magic aus but cyberpunk aus!! i love them so much!)

Bodyswap or Genderbend (god i LOVE aus where male characters are women, it doesnt work for all of them but theres quite a few i activiely prefer as women then as in canon, like hammer horror dracula and van helsing)

Angst or Crack (i dont have to much preferance for either if its writen well, but ive found humor fails more often)

Apocalyptic or Mundane (this is the same as modern au! but anyway yeah mundane, college aus included)

I’m not gonna tag anyone because i’m nervious about but what if they dont want to? so if you see this and want to feel free

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solange-lol · 5 years

Text

More Than This

Summary: Five times Will and Nico acted like they weren’t flirting and one time they stopped pretending

Words: 4,409

Nico di Angelo Birthday Event - Day 3/4

Read on Ao3

It was an argument with his father that had Nico approaching a breakfast place called Naomi’s at 8:30 on a Saturday morning.

The argument itself was irrelevant. Something about how Nico needed to get out more. Somehow he found himself a job, despite the fact that his father said “getting out” doesn’t mean “getting a job.” Anyway, it was better than texting Jason Grace for the first time in four months if he wanted to “hang out.”

As soon as Nico stepped inside the restaurant, he realized he had no clue what he was doing. The overall atmosphere was fine, pretty homey and cozy. But the people. God, where did all of these people even come from? Their town wasn’t even that big. The noise level was so different from the echoing hallways of Nico’s too-big-and-too-empty house (mansion, really, but he never liked that word). It was a little overwhelming, to say the least.

“You can sit wherever,” a boy with the biggest blonde curls Nico has ever seen speed walked past him, two menus and a plate with half-eaten pancakes clutched in his hands.

Nico had no idea how to respond, and when he tried to the only thing that came out was “uhhhh.”

The boy turned back around, grimacing with annoyance for a split second until his eyes met Nico’s. The Italian couldn’t help but to deeply inhale for a second in an attempt to remain calm. Was it even possible for eyes to be that blue? Holy granola, this guy is beautiful. His thoughts were interrupted by the blonde shaking his head like he was trying to clear his mind.

“Oh god, I’m sorry Nico,” he said with a softer smile. How does this kid know his name? “I haven’t had coffee yet. I’m a little out of it. Follow me.”

They walked behind the counter together, passing different areas dedicated to different necessities. Coffee, water, other drinks, and refills for salt and sugar. All while the blonde kid was gesturing wildly, giving brief explanations on the do’s and don’ts and sipping his sock monkey mug of freshly-made coffee. Nico groaned internally, thinking about how he’ll have to learn all these new rules. God knew he had the memory of a packing peanut. It’s so much easier to bullshit your way through life than to spend hours learning all the new ways of the world, but he had a feeling that wasn’t exactly the way it worked in a restaurant.

They approached an older-looking woman who seemed even more exhausted than the blonde. However, her smile was warm and welcoming as they approached closer.

“You must be Nico,” she said, amber eyes twinkling. Nico immediately noted she was probably Naomi. “You came at the perfect time.” The woman glanced out at the crowd of people. “Though, I assume Will still has much to teach you, so don’t let me stop you.” The blonde nodded accordingly. Nico added another mental note that this guy must be Will.

Without another word, Will started walking, Nico on his heels. They walked past the stove area (“Always say excuse me walking past here if a chef is at work. You do not want to make the same mistake I did”), the toast area (“That’s usually my job, but make a good impression and you might get your shot”), and where to get the ice (“The scooper is made of metal, so never leave it in with the ice or you will definitely regret it). He went pretty quickly past the dishwashing area, and explained later that “the dishwasher only speaks Spanish, and she can drive you crazy pretty quickly.” (It took Nico a few minutes to figure out that Will was referring to the woman who washes dishes, not the actual appliance itself).

Will lead him through western-style double doors and walked over to a large wooden cabinet. “This is the bus station,” Will explained. “As long as none of the waitresses need you to get water, or someone needs you to dry silverware, you’ll be spending most of your time back here.” He opened a few drawers, pointing to silverware and napkins and how to arrange them. There were some buckets on the side, which Will explained was where they would put dirty dishes after scraping them. Once it was pretty full, you were supposed to bring it back to be washed. (It was all going in one ear and out the other this point, which was, admittedly, not ideal). Will then opened another drawer for personal belonging for bussers. Nico shrugged off his jacket and stuffed it in.

As Will led them to a door, he talked about some of the other bussers that worked there. Octavian, who wasn’t kind in the slightest; however, he was a pretty good employee when it came to doing his job. He was the one who Nico would probably be working with most often, which was a little scary. The other one was named Kayla, who was a friend of Will’s and secondhand adopted by Naomi. However, she only ever worked Sunday’s, so unless they really needed Nico there, it was unlike he was ever going to meet her.

The door brought them outside. Cold air hit Nico like a wall, and he immediately missed the comfort of his jacket. “Unfortunately this is the only way back here,” Will was visibly shivering as he led them to a back room off of the building. It was lined with shelves, which had boxes of pancake, waffle, and oatmeal, as well as other breakfast food and supplies. There was a refrigerator full of milk and other dairy products, and another for fruits and vegetables.

“Pretty self-explanatory. You’ll only have to go back here if one of the servers or my mother asks you for something.”

Nico cocked his head. “Your mother?”

“Yeah… this is my family’s restaurant,” Will gave him a weird look. “You must be the only kid in the entire junior year who doesn’t know that.”

Now it was Nico’s turn to give him a weird look. Do they…

“Are you telling me you didn’t know we go to the same school?” Nico panicked for a second internally, thinking he had offended Will until laughter bubbled out of him.

“Geez, di Angelo. I heard rumors about you being in English IV as a junior, so I never would have assumed you were so dense,” he said between chuckles.

“I- How did you know I’m in English IV?”

Will shrugged. “Remember when everyone found out Drew was in AP bio in freshman year?” (He did not). “That’s not really a good example since people were surprised Drew even had a brain, though she’s actually pretty cool. Anyway, word gets around, y’know?”

Nico nodded despite the fact that he had no idea what they were talking about anymore. He was pretty fixed the dusting of freckles across Will’s nose. Eventually, his eyes wandered back up to Will’s, who was promptly staring at him. Both boys blushed. Will switched his gaze to a box full of syrup bottles.

“We should probably go help out. I’m sure my mom will find her way back here if we don’t go back soon,” Will said, still not looking at Nico. Before Nico could curse silently at himself for making it awkward, he gave the Italian a smile. “C’mon, I’ll go teach you how to set a table.”

(He already taught him that.) (It’s okay, Nico doesn’t mind learning again.)

II.

It was a few weeks after Nico’s first day. When he walked into Naomi’s that Saturday, it had been a clear morning. Almost warm, if mid-fifties was considered warm. Waitresses and customers were smiling and cheery, glad for the nice day in the midst of their December chill.

However, by the time 2:00 rolled around, the weather had changed drastically. The wind had seriously picked up, and the taps of rain were slowly drilling their way through Nico’s brain. Not to mention Octavian was getting on his nerves. He had an urge to lock him in one of the bathrooms.

Will was the only one keeping his sanity at bay. When Nico wasn’t clearing a table or Will wasn’t under too much toast-induced pressure, he usually found himself leaning against the counter. They tried to make up games to entertain each other without receiving a disapproving stare from Naomi. (Nico wasn’t really sure if she was capable of looking mean, but he trusted Will’s word. Mother-son relationships and all that). None of them lasted very long, but they were able to get a laugh out of it most of the time.

It was bizarre, actually, that this is the only time Nico can remember spending with Will. He doesn’t recall having any classes with him in the past (though the past two years were a blur of anxiety and hazy conversations). They never had colliding friend groups. It was sort of amazing how they were still able to meet through doing something Nico never would have considered doing, not to mention the fact it was prompted by an argument with his father.

Nico was putting up chairs while Will turned off the open signs when Naomi walked over to him with a stack of bills in her hand. “Thank you so much for your hard work today,” she said with that same warm smile. “I’m glad you and Will have been getting along.”

Nico nodded, smiling as well. “Thank you,” was all he said as he took the money. He felt bad taking it; he really didn’t need it. It was clear running a restaurant wasn’t easy, not to mention the other employees she had to pay. It was either have to hire and pay all these people or exhaust yourself trying to do it all. Even this minimum wage salary felt like he was taking a lot from her.

On his way out the door, Will stopped him. “Nico, it is 35 degrees and raining. Where is your jacket.”

Oh. He didn’t bring a jacket since the day started out so nicely. His work shirt was already long sleeve, so he didn’t think about it too much. He should be fine walking home. It wasn’t too far anyway. However, when he told him that, Will wasn’t settled.

“Do you have someone who can pick you up? I really don’t like the idea of you going out in the rain like that.” Nico could feel his cheeks heating up. He hoped he could blame it on the cold air that was seeping under the crack of the door. He’s only truly known Will for a few short weeks (though it’s felt like years), his little-but-growing crush on the teen seemed childish and honestly pathetic, at least to him. So he just shook his head at the question, not sure how to respond.

Will mumbled to himself about giving him a ride but still needing to mop the floors. He turned to Nico, caring eyes studying his face before he shrugged off his own jean jacket, then held it out.

Nico took it, staring confused at Will. “I just don’t watch you to catch a cold,” he said, tucking a curl behind his ear. “Can’t have my best employee dying of a disease.”

“I wouldn’t call getting a cold ‘dying of disease,’” Nico said, rolling his eyes before looking down at the jacket in his hands as he tried to ignore the skeletal butterflies in his stomach. “But… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Will said with a grin.

On the walk home, Nico noticed all the little pins on his jacket. Some of them were references he didn’t understand, and others were just cool designs he’s pretty sure he’s seen at Hot Topic. And ah, there was a piece of ribbon safety pinned next to them all that just so happened to be the bi flag. There's no way that can be an accident. They were being handed out in various flag colors at the activities fair at the beginning of the year for their school’s GSA club. (Nico made Hazel grab him an ace one). And now that he knew Will went to their school...

Good to know.

III.

On the first Saturday of December, Nico walked in late. About a half hour, which usually was early for him if this was some sort of social event. Unfortunately, work was work, and you were expected to show up on time no matter what. Which explained why everyone was lined up behind the counter, watching him as he walked through. (Even though there were only two people there because who in their right mind gets up early on a Saturday?)

It was probably a coincidence. It was where all the stoves were, and all the waitresses spent free time behind there gossiping anyway. It didn’t make it any less intimidating though. One of the waitresses eyed him warily while the other just gave a sympathetic shrug. Maybe they could see the exhaustion in his face. Or maybe they just pitied him. Probably both.

Naomi was giving off the most mixed emotions of them all. She kept her voice level and usually-warm face clear of emotion when she said hello, but her eyes read like she either wanted to lecture him or hug him.

He took his walk of shame all the way to the bussers station. Immediately, Will stepped through the kitchen’s double doors, travel cups of coffee in each hand. He shoved one of them in Nico’s hands, who gratefully took a sip.

“What kind of coffee is this?” he asked, trying to ignore the fact that he just burned his tongue. It was sweeter compared to Nico’s usual black-with-an-unhealthy-amount-of-sugar cup, however, very enjoyable. “And what’s with the glasses?”

“Vanilla cappuccino. Snatched the last cup out from under Octavian’s nose. And shut up,” Will’s face heated up, reaching up to adjust the frames that rested on the bridge of his nose, and Nico cursed internally. They were flatter on the top, though round at the bottom with the glass exposed. They made him look like a Pinterest model. He was beautiful. “I didn’t have time to put in my contacts this morning.”

Nico just snorted, relieved that he refused to step foot out of the house in the case he was forced to wear his own glasses. He had gotten enough taunting from Jason and Leo that they made him look like an anime character; no way he was going to get Will in on that as well.

“I made you coffee even though you’re late. I don’t deserve this bullying,” Will was still muttering to himself. “Why were you late anyway?” he asked Nico.

Nico sighed. “Argument with my dad. He’s worried about my future or something. Says studying liberal arts won’t get me anywhere in life, which is just typical coming from the businessman in his soul.”

“Let me guess: he wants you to go into business and management so you can take over his company one day?”

“How did you guess?”

Will sighed, leaning on the counter. “My mom is the exact same way. She wants me to inherit this restaurant and keep the family line-thing going, but I don’t have the passion she does. Plus William’s doesn't exactly have the same ring to it.”

“Is there something else you want to do?”

Will smiled bashfully at the question, rubbing the back of his neck.“It’s dumb and I probably won’t get to because medical school is, like, hell or something, but I want to be a pediatric doctor. Or maybe a trauma surgeon, I dunno. I think the only reason she’d let me go for it is because I gave a woman here CPR once.”

“Wait, really?” Nico regarded him with wide eyes.

Will looked surprised at Nico’s sudden interest. “I mean, yeah, it was no big deal. She lived,” he said, cheeks flushing.

“No big deal? That’s way cool. Will, you saved someone’s life. And-” Nico continued hesitantly. “I think that sounds awesome. You would make an amazing doctor.”

Will smiled. “Y’think?”

“I know.”

IV.

“You are doing a terrible job.”

“Well, I’m going faster than you are.”

“At least mine are actually dry. Isn’t that the objective here?”

“Well, you're avoiding my question!”

Will rolled his eyes. “Nico, I am not having an argument with you about what the best One Direction song is.” He finished drying the spoon in his hand, placing it in his side of the carrier. It was a slow Saturday, and Naomi had put the two of them in charge of washing and drying silverware. Every time they seemed to be close to finishing, she would throw more into the bucket.

“It’s not an argument. It’s just…. Friendly debate.” Nico shrugged as he picked up another knife.

“Can you please actually dry this one?”

(Will’s side was looking dryer than Nico’s, but what was the point? By the time they finished, all the silverware would basically be dry anyway).

“I will if you answer my question.”

Will huffed. “Fine. But I only know the first three albums.”

“Great. Those are the only good ones anyway. Plus you can tell me your favorite from each.”

Will stared at the ceiling in thought for a second. “God, let me think. Uh, Up All Night was the first album, right.” Nico nodded. “Well, then it’s gotta be One Thing.”

Nico wrinkled his nose. “Too mainstream. Gotta Be You is the way to go.”

“You do realize that is more mainstream that One Thing.”

“Yeah, well, it’s catchier.”

Will just shook his head in defeat. “Well, then you have to at least admit that Kiss You is the best from their second album.”

Again, Nico contraindicated. “Geez, fake fan. I can name at least three others that are better.”

“Oh really? Go ahead.”

Nico decided to ignore the fact that Will’s face was inching closer to his. He away. willed the heat in his cheeks. “Rock Me, Over Again, and Nobody Compares.”

“Those are all incredibly cheesy.” Their noses nearly brushed, and Nico’s mind was going haywire with Will towering over him like this. He really hoped Naomi didn’t have any more silverware for them, because he really wants to kiss Will right now. (Yes, the timing would be horrible. But Nico wasn’t thinking about that right now. Not with Will’s blue eyes glancing from Nico’s lips back up to his eyes like that.)

“And you’re saying Kiss You isn’t?” He could count Will’s freckles from here.

“I’m just saying-”

But Nico didn’t hear the end of that sentence, because his ears picked up an all-too-familiar voice from the dining area. Immediately, whatever mood was between them was forgotten.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Nico mumbled.

“No, I really-”

“Not you!” Nico waved Will off. His hurt expression made Nico’s heart sink, but he really needed to make sure it wasn’t who he thought it was. The Italian raced through the western-style doors. Immediately, he cringed at the sight.

His father, looking like Death himself, chatting lightly with Naomi at the front of the diner. His face was unreadable like usual; when he caught sight of Nico, he merely blinked. No wave, not even a nod. Typical.

By this point, Will had caught up to Nico; the blonde followed his gaze to the front. “Who-?”

“That,” Nico inhaled deeply. “-Is my father.”

Before Will could respond, Nico walked over to him, now seated by himself at a table meant for four right next to the fireplace. Nico winced at how expensive his father looked compared to the diner. It was sorta embarrassing, and Nico was praying neither of the Solace’s would notice.

“Dad,” Nico started, trying to keep his cool. “What are you doing here?”

His father regarded him with a blank stare. “Supporting local business, I believe. I’ve heard the corned beef hash is amazing here.”

(Nico knew for a fact that his father would never order corned beef hash.)

Before he could contradict, he noticed one of the waitresses walked towards them, and quickly headed back to the busser station

***

“Nico, you’re father left the biggest tip I have ever seen a person leave here,” Will announced, following the Italian through the back door. Naomi had asked him to go grab another box of oatmeal, and he gladly agreed before his father could do something embarrassing. Unfortunately for him, it’s inescapable.

Nico felt his face flush as Will continued. “I mean, it was bigger than his actual meal. That’s insane, and, honestly I don’t even know if that’s legal.”

Nico could feel his ears burning. “God, I’m sorry, he’s so embarrassing,” he said more to the box of oatmeal in his hands rather than Will.

“Sorry? I was going to say thank you!” Will stared at him in bewilderment. “No offense to my mom, obviously, but I don’t even think the food is that good. Like, there are better places-”

“Lets just not talk about it, okay?” Nico cut him off.

Will looked confused. “Uh, okay…. But I do have one other thing to say.”

Nico braced for impact. “What?”

“Now I see where all the ‘edginess’ came from,” Will teased, failing to hide the shit-eating grin that crossed his face.

“Oh, shut up!”

Nico was taking a much-needed, well-deserved, nice, long lunch break.

Will, however, was not.

Didn’t stop him.

The two sat at the counter. Once again it was a slow Saturday; only a few people sat scattered around the vicinity. After four long, agonizing hours, Nico decided to just suck it up and eat lunch already. (Even if it meant waiting ANOTHER three hours to go home. God, this shift was so long.)

Will, who had long since abandoned prepping coffee filters, rambled aimlessly next to him. Nico had stopped listening to him a while ago. Instead, he counted the freckles on Will’s face. Every time he lost count, he started over.

He felt weird, how much he wanted to be with Will. Like, they were coworkers. But they also saw each other at school. And they were friends? It was all too confusing.

He imagined kissing Will would be like eating a spoonful of sugar. Not saying he tasted like one (he probably did, honestly) but more in a metaphorical way. Amazing in the moment, but consequential later.

Part of him knew Will probably wanted to kiss him too. The way they talked to each other now, it was like they weren’t just coworkers, weren’t just schoolmates, weren’t just friends. And even though they barely knew each other, it felt like Will has been in his life forever, Hell, he wanted Will to be in his life forever, relationship or not.

Maybe that’s what he was afraid of. Losing Will.

“Y’know, have you ever thought about wearing something other than black jeans?” Will asked him, interrupting his thoughts.

Nico swallowed the fry he had been chewing.“What?”

“Like, I know you have the whole all-black ‘I’m emo’ thing going on, but have you ever considered, I dunno, blue jeans? Or khakis?”

Nico snorted. “Aren’t you supposed to be clearing tables.”

Will shrugged; he stole Nico’s Coke and took a sip. The smile he gave Nico melted his heart

***

“I heard somewhere that you aren't supposed to wear black with blue denim.”

Nico’s face flushed. “Shut up, Solace.”

“I mean it! Apparently, it makes you look like a bruise or something,” Will shrugged innocently from where he was filling his water cup.

Nico shoved the extra straws into the back pocket of his jeans. Blue jeans. “Don’t act like this wasn’t your doing,” he glared at Will.

Before he would turn away, he felt something slide out from his behind. When he turned around, Will had stolen one of the straws, which he had already plunged into his drink.

Nico could feel his entire face heat up. “You just killed a turtle,” he informed him, failing to let his voice stay level.

Will just shot him a wink; a light blush was already spilling across his freckled cheeks as he took a sip.

This boy was going to be the death of him.

“This is exactly why I don’t tell people it’s my birthday.” Nico was going to kill Jason for telling Will.

“Technically it’s not your birthday yet. Now just take the gift.”

Will’s arm was still extended, holding out a tiny blue box. It was clearly already used for something, but Will just scribbled out whatever logo was there before and replaced it with “To: Nico” with a Sharpie-smiley face.

Nico huffed, snatching the box. He really did hate when people got him gifts. It was just more unnecessary money spent on him.

Underneath the lid was a simple pin; one of the ones that had noticed was on Will’s jean jacket when he had leant it to him. It was a simple skull surrounded by flowers.

“It was one of my favorites,” Will admitted. “But I think it’s more your style than it is mine.” Before Nico could thank him, he continued. “That actually wasn’t the gift I wanted to get you, though,” he said, immediately flushing.

Before Nico could speak, could move, could react in any way, Will was kissing him. It took him a minute to realize that Will had pulled him in by his shirt and was kissing him.

After that, he melted into it. His hands went up to Will’s hair, tangling his fingers deep into the blonde curls like he’s wanted to do for months. Will’s arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.

Unfortunately, it ended as soon as it started. The door to the back room where they currently were residing was pulled open, and the two boys jumped apart as Naomi stepped in.

“Oh,” she said, glancing at both of their flushed faces. “I just came to get some milk, but I guess you two can bring it back for me.” Before she could close the door, she turned back around to face Nico. “Oh, and happy birthday Nico. I hope my son is treating you well.” She winked at him, and then she was gone.

Will, who had already made his way back over to Nico, started to giggle. “I’m gonna admit, I totally forgot we were at work.”

Solangelo Tag List! (message me to be added/removed)

@internallyexplodingrainbows @aleclight-ofmylife-wood @unicornsgomooo @anxiouswinter @soulangelou @number-of-fucks-i-give-0 @underworldystuff @theeloquentsnake @solangelover@thefandomsaretakingover @internallyexplodingrainbows @hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon @motivatedcryptidtamer @emilyfairchild @wherethewildthingsare-nt

#liz writes.com #NicoBirthdayEvent #solangelo #Nico di Angelo #Will Solace #percy jackson #pjo #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #heros of olympus #toa #trials of apollo

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lovedeluxe92 · 5 years

Text

okay so i started working at jimmy johns in early febuary of this year. i needed a job rlly bad and money desperately, just something to keep me afloat and to afford food. what i experienced...i was not at all prepared for lmao. i was sexually harassed, verbally harassed, had my hours fucked with, had management and even the owners of the company who could give a fuck less about their employees, had to deal with my fellow coworkers AND managers being on k2 and other drugs, and the final fucking straw which was getting my tip money stolen from me OUT OF THE SAFE BY A MANAGER. i started working as a delivery driver. which was INCREDIBLY stress inducing at first bc i worked at the one right downtown. i had to deal with

i started working as a delivery driver. which was INCREDIBLY stress inducing at first bc i worked at the one right downtown. i had to deal with

traffic, pedestrians NOT LOOKING WHERE THE FUCK THEY WERE GOING DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MANY PPL I ALMOST KILLED CAUSE /THEY/ DID NOT LOOK, we have ‘parking police’ and i legit got about 15-20 tickets during my time there bc that asshole was out for blood and anytime he saw my car, even if i wasnt parked illegally (oh did i mention we had like 3 parking spots all on the street and all with a 2 hour limit (: ) or hadnt been parked in a spot for the full 2 hours. so there was that.

see when i first started everything was fine. we had good employees who worked hard and did what they had to do. they were all stoners, but whatever i could care less about that. SO. our assistant manager, he was a mess. racist, homophobic, rude, loud. the worst. we would do dabs out in his car (yeah i know but i worked at a fucking jimmy johns) and he would just say the most questionable shit. i remember this one time he saw my phone background was a pic of me and my bf and was like ‘oh you like black guys? what’s your sex like? i bet it’s really good’ and im not gonna go into too much detail here, bc it upset me and its racist, but he kept going and said some REALLY creepy shit i was like wtf and told him to never speak to me like that again or i would report him for sexual harassment (side note: one time he thought i did report him for sexual harassment and was like “who are you gonna buy weed from now?” LITERALLY ANYONE YOU PIECE OF SHIT.) he would always be like “DAMN THICK’ whenever i would bend over and do everything. I TOLD MY MANAGER AT THE TIME. she didn’t do anything. AND the owners of the franchise definitely knew bc like...there’s cameras and they can hear everything we say? but no one did fucking anything. and i needed the money bad so i had to stay. of course i told him off constantly. he was white and always saying the n word. just a piece of fucking shit.

i think the happiest day of my life was when he FINALLY got fired. my manager had to go to another city for a week and help out that jimmy johns bc i guess ALL the employees and managers did a walk out (yeah this happens at all the jimmy johns owned locally in my area i wish i was kidding) and left his inept ass in charge. it took him 5 mins to make sandwiches (FREAKY FAST hello????) he was just a poor manager. but THEN he started using k2 again. and he was a zombie. there was no point of him even being there bc like he would just go to the back of the store and just stand in front of the freezer door staring for like 10-15 mins at a time.i was a driver and didnt know how to make sandwiches yet and this bitch seriously was just standing there cracked out of his mind on k2 in FRONT of customers (and i will say our customers were SO nice at least) takking phone calls slurring his words. it was embarrassing. i rememeber i had 2 customers who had waited almost a HALF HOUR for ONE sandwich bc i was having a panic attack and losing my fucking mind trying to make their sandwiches while he was in his truck getting high and refusing to come in. one of the customers actually gave me a tip and told me i was doing great and the other one was like ‘im so sorry this is happening to you, that guy is fucked up’. anyway, he passed out on k2 in his truck one night and got the cops called on him and got banned from the property :) i still saw him from time to time and he looked disgusting & miserable and it made me so happy.

mostly we just had grown ass employees, fucking 30 year olds, just acting like children. always on drugs. i had one coworker pretend to slap my ass and i called him out and he was like ‘it’s a joke im not apologizing’. people would try to take deliveries from me. AND LET ME JUST SAY, not even to fucking brag even slighly but i was the best worker there my entire time there bc regardless of where im working i am giving my 100% every day and no one else there would. but ppl always tried to step over me and did not respect me. we had one coworker who had 3 felonies and one day like 4-5 cops came to our store to tell us to call the cops the next time he showed up for work (surprise surprise he fled bc they took an hour to get to the store despite the fact we were literally like not even 4 blocks from the police station) and he was always high on k2. forever late. day after day no call no show. he had his friend get hired on who would go down to subway and talk shit about subway in his uniform??? lmao and subway called us one day and was like ‘can yall not?’ he also threatened to burn down the store and then my manager (who was always on a power trip if we’re being honest) purposefully withheld his paycheck to fuck with him, because he was fucking with her, so we dealt with him WAY longer than we should have?

then this one bitch that became manager, SOMEHOW, we were seriously always that desperate for staff and we hire anyone bc the managers are overworked af and just want to take the load off. anyway, SHE was always high on k2 as well. and she would always overshare rlly traumatic personal things from her life to me and all the customers and its like....girl we dont wanna hear that pls try and get some help. she was not currently being abused, i wanna specify. she was talking about things from her past. i sympathized with her but like im a victim of dv too lmao i dont wanna see your bruises without being asked first. and then i remember one day i left my money bag there (i kept my tips in it and had like $37 in there or something) and this bitch who was making MORE MONEY THAN ME seriously fucking went into the safe (we caught her on camera lmao) and stole that money out of my bag and left a few bills to make it seem less suspicious i guess??? lied about it to my face? then quit bc she ‘wasnt gonna sit there and be accused of something i didnt do’ like ok lmao

then to top it all off at one point my old manager just stopped giving a fuck and the store went to shit and we got complaint after complaint and she started being so rude to all of her staff, including myself (and we were like besties so i was devastated) and she cut my hours when she was submitting our work times for the checks because i would clock in early to help out....LIKE SHE ASKED? and it was just everything i said to her...her response was just the most rude and hateful voice and just....it was so rude. i cried every single day after work. she eventually got replaced and then quit

but then this new manager, whom i loved, was very depressed and just had a lot wrong with him mentally but he was still very....drama starting and attention seeking. he would talk about suicide nonstop 24/7 and not to be callous but it just made me so uncomfortable and triggered me so much? they did overwork him and i will attest and agree to that and he had a lot on his shoulders but he couldve gone to mcdonalds literally any day and gotten a job with better hours, better pay, and better benefits. i kept telling him over and over to leave bc he had so much managerial experience he couldve been hired anywhere! all resteraunts down here are perpetually hiring, especially for managers! i would know bc i was looking for another job lmao. but he’d text me every night saying things like ‘well lets hope i drink myself to death’ ‘suicide is painless’ etc. and it was just......VERY uncomfortable for me, as someone who has attempted suicide and still struggles with ideation from time to time lmao it was just the most triggering environment ever

like idk how i lasted that long but i worked my ass off, saved up my money, have a good paying job and im trying my best to forget this entire experience (honestly i did have some good times) but i really dont....think i can lmao

ON A POSTIVE NOTE: we had some of the kindest and most caring customers ive ever had in my life. i was shocked. but the amount of times i had a shitty customer in my entire time there i can count on one hand lmao like....even when they were shitty they were like ‘im sorry i know yall work hard and everything’ like i miss my customers SO MUCH because we actually had relationships with them and shit and ugh god. if the customers were shitty tho i would never have kept this job lmfao

i stayed at this job simply bc i made enough money for rent and my bills perfectly and it was one of the few jobs where i was paid an hourly wage + tips. and i wanted my next job to be a job in my field. that’s why i stuck around so long, it took some time to do that.

so yeah theres my mess i love anyone who read this and you can have my first born and be the beneficiary to my life insurance when i die

#tw: racism #tw: sexism #tw: suicide #tw: drugs #idk...what else to warn y'all about. just know this is a fucking #mess #i mean these arent horrific mentions of any of these things but i dont wanna trigger anyone unintentionally #better safe than sorry with tws

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the-kipsabian · 5 years

Note

Also sparkleharper and/or spaceharper

sparkleharper ~

Who offers their jacket when the other is cold?jared. this smol thing on his side cant be cold, nope he wont allow. his sparkles will keep him warm lol

Who giggles uncontrollably when the other playfully picks them up?idk how many times i can repeat myself, but mads will just. yell. and she cant pick up jared so yep

Who compliments the other in front of everyone?jareddddd. mostly cause thats just what he does tbh. and mads doesnt need to say anything to compliment him in front of everybody tbh, everyone already knows how fantastic the school senpai is lol

Who is more likely to tell the other a pun and what is the other’s reaction to the pun?i think in this case the puns fall on mads to deliver? being the courteous gentleman that he is, jared laughs. pretty much every time, not even depending whether he gets it or not tbh

When one of them has a bad day, what does the other do to help cheer them up?jared puts up a “fashion show” for mads, completed with a photoshoot session of goofy outfits and expressions and googly eyes. when jared needs to distress, mads sits him down, asks him to ramble to her about any recent d&d games and help him plot some really stupid and lighthearted side quests while having a relaxing cup of tea and some kit made cookies

If they got to pick what one another wears for a day, what would one another wear?blue. lots of blue. mads wants jared to wear his blue shirt (”its pretty and its soft and you look so nice in it”) and jared insist she wears one of his shirts (”cause its adorable, they are so big on you”) and her favorite pair of blue jeans. i dont think i need to say why anymore at this point lol

Who introduces their partner to their family first? How does it go?for this, i wanna say mads? jared obviously isnt too keen on introducing anyone to his family, and while mads is very hesitant about this, especially since this is a super well-behaved boy its. gonna get very awkward considering what kind of a bunch of normies my family is mmmm. but jared is a good boio underneath all that rich senpai stuff, so it would probably go very well in the end, actually

In a coffee shop AU, who would be the coffee shop employee and who would be the customer?jared is too pretty to work as a coffee shop employee sssooo hes the customer, and mads is the daydreaming waitress woo

When they sit side by side, do they touch one another? For example, does one person has their arm around the other, do they sit holding hands, or linked arms, ECT.jared definitely. has at least one arm flung around her at like all times. if he needs to be more discreet in like a more public place or whatnot, he holds her hand under the table

What is a small thing that one another does to make their partner happy?jared definitely tries to befriend the stray cats tbh. mads takes his encouragement about herself to heart and whenever jared is feeling down or just generally missing her, she send him little video messages to cheer him on and selfies she wouldnt sent to anyone else cause jared keeps saying he loves seeing her and that makes him happy so dang it shes gonna push past her comfort zone to be more comfortable with herself and make him happy

What would they do to celebrate their one year anniversary?jared would arrange something very elaborate tbh. take her to dinner, possibly see a movie, go to the arcade, win her everything she wants, walks in the moonlight.. literally anything that he can think of, and he would fit it into either one day or over the weekend, if mads seems like shes gonna get exhausted by it

When did they know that loved each other, and when did they first tell each other that they loved one another?i feel like they both had like. hard time actually recognizing when it was love tbh? like yeah mads first falls for him cause of aesthetic reasons, and jared is playing the senpai card of loving every girl, so you cant really tell on the outside when its actually love or when either of them develop like real feelings, but at some point it just. kinda becomes obvious that oh shit i. love this person?? and yeah its jared who definitely says it first tho. its like an offhand remark at first and mads is like ‘what did you say’ and jared repeats it and realizes that oh heck i. actually do mean this??

Who likes to give the other hugs from behind followed by a kiss?jared does this as a combo, mads sneaks in little kisses when hes piggybacking her around tbh

Who would make a playlist for the other person? What would be featured on the playlist?i feel like mads would do that? jared is more about more expensive presents, while mads cant really afford that so she has to pull something selfmade together and yeah, that happens. its mostly like ambient sounds and background music tbh, stuff she thinks will inspire him and what he could use for d&d games and maybe some more upbeat stuff for the fashion shows and for better days

Who would bring their partner on a romantic date under the stars?they could both do this tbh? mads wants to surprise him so she arranges a little cuddling under a blanket while stargazing moment, and jared just does this a lot in general

~~~~~~~~

spaceharper ~

Who offers their jacket when the other is cold?jeff. mom friend habits kick in and they kick in hard. this has also probably been established somewhere in the canon of this route anyways lol

Who giggles uncontrollably when the other playfully picks them up?im gonna keep repeating myself but mads. except that she yells. put her down yall pls

Who compliments the other in front of everyone?mmm i wanna say jeff? but its like. really soft things and its done in almost unnoticeable fashion, like its just really offhand comments like “oh shes so sweet” etc. unless its something that she has given him a permission to share about her writing. then jeff will lose his freaking mind cause eveRYONE NEEDS TO SEE THIS THING MY GF DID OMG

Who is more likely to tell the other a pun and what is the other’s reaction to the pun?i’d imagine jeff is more of a pun man out of these two. he does it very casually tho, like most of the time its not on purpose or he doesnt put much emphasis on it, so most of the time mads just misses it. if she gets it tho, she will most likely laugh

When one of them has a bad day, what does the other do to help cheer them up?jeff arranges some cuddle time, with the help of kit builds a blanket fort, gets some scented candles, and they just cuddle up with some strays and play animal intersection. if its jeff that needs destressing, mads will literally cling onto him until he sits down and just takes it easy - which is her cue to throw a blanket on him, get jeff a cup of tea and just sit down and talk about random nonsense with him to make sure he takes a break from everything

If they got to pick what one another wears for a day, what would one another wear?onesies all day every day. jeff in a hamster onesie, and mads in a fox one

Who introduces their partner to their family first? How does it go?jefffffff. i think ive crossed this topic enough times by now tbh lol

In a coffee shop AU, who would be the coffee shop employee and who would be the customer?mmmm i’d say jeff is the customer? i could see him working in a coffee shop tho, but this pair feels better to me with mads behind the counter tho

When they sit side by side, do they touch one another? For example, does one person has their arm around the other, do they sit holding hands, or linked arms, ECT.jeff does what mads feels comfortable at the moment. usually its just limited to hand holding, tho if they are in relax mode, like playing games and mads doesnt wanna be too cuddled up but still wants to be close enough to jeff, there will at least be her legs in his lap

What is a small thing that one another does to make their partner happy?jeff brings sweets and stray cats. hes also always available for cuddles and advice when needed. mads sends him stupid pictures of her with googly eyes and gets him hamster related gifts cause they made her think of him

What would they do to celebrate their one year anniversary?STARGAZING WITH CANDLE LIGHT PICNIC NEXT QUESTION

When did they know that loved each other, and when did they first tell each other that they loved one another?jeff helps her through some rough times and shes like. oh heck i like this boi like. LIKE him. oh dear goodness me what do. jeff comes somewhere afterwards as they spend more time together and thats where the whole ‘you wanna join hidden club’ thing comes along and only after that jeff has it in him to actually tell her how she feels mmmmalso it would. probably actually be mads who tells him first? jeff has hard time opening up about his feelings even if they are there, so it falls on her to confess about it first yay

Who likes to give the other hugs from behind followed by a kiss?both honestly? tho jeff needs to be sitting down for this lol, but yeah they both do it. its just a cute little way to show the other that hey im glad youre here

Who would make a playlist for the other person? What would be featured on the playlist?probably both? with both asking help from luke cause oh my god wHAT DO

Who would bring their partner on a romantic date under the stars?mads? its one of those nights when jeff really needs to destress and she knows how much he likes space and stars and stuff so she basically drags him out to just lay on the grass and stare up at the sky like yes pls jeff tell me about your plan to shoot hamsters into space again tho i mean when you put it like that its not like. super romantic pfff but you know it doesnt need to be romantic as long as it makes him happy

#asagao!mads #sparkleharper #spaceharper #its been so long since i did spaceharper stuff oh wow #anyways heres thingsssssss yay <3 #coughedfeathers #thank you for asking! <3

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kz-i-co · 6 years

Text

First Love: Part IV

» Summary: The good, the bad, & the ugly

» Pairings: Min Yoongi/ Reader

» Genre: Angst/ Smut

» Words: 3k

» Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ╫ Part 5

» m.list ╫ bts masterlist

One week has been too long of a quiet week. You tried your best to not show you cared. Since the love of your life lives next door, you couldn't avoid him.

"(Y/N) Please talk to me." He got familiar with your work schedule so he knew the exact moment you left your apartment.

"I'm going to be late for work." You said with no tone.

"I don't care.....stop ignoring me." He yelled. "She is my ex......I don't care about her.....I love you." He raised his voice.

"Yoongi can this wait." You said annoyed.

"No it can't wait, it's been a fucking week and you won't let me have a fucking second to explain." He was more angry then you have ever seen before.

"Stop being a dick and I'll talk to you later." You weren't afraid of him.

"Fine." He said quite sad that you couldn't help but feel guilty.

"Yoongi just give up." Jisoo said as he entered the door.

He didn't answer and just walked past her.

"Why do you care?"

"Fuck off Jisoo." Yoongi yelled.

"You're really in love with her?" She asked generally interested.

"Go away." He sat in his studio.

"Why?"

"Jisoo-"

"Just answer the question.....why are you in love with her?"

"I don't want to talk to you about this because it's your fucking fault why we had to sneak around."

"How is this my fault?" She complained.

"(Y/N) wanted to tell you but you were too much of a bitch to let her."

Jisoo's face soften. She had no idea.

"Please just leave me alone."

Instead of going home that night you went to Chae's. Yoongi would try to catch you again at night so you tried to avoided it.

That morning Chae saw you asleep on the couch and woke you up with her loud annoying voice.

"Really?" You yawned.

"Time to get up."

"So what's the detail?" She asked.

"Not good."

"Why what happened.....You haven't been talking to me, Jisoo hasn't been talking to me, what gives, I'm your friend to."

"Sorry it's haptic." You laid back down.

"Please." She begged.

You told her every detail of what happened and she was blown away.

"I'm sorry." She said.

"What do I Do?"

"Well he loves you from the sounds of it."

"I know....but the thought of competing with an ex is scary." You sounded worried.

"Yeah but he choose you so don't worry....now I'm not sure about Jisoo....She sounds pretty upset since you lied to her."

"I know....She hates me and now I don't have a boyfriend either."

"If you talk to him, you will."

"(Y/N) come on wake up." Your manager snapped at you.

You were in a daze.

"What is with you this week.....when you enter this company all your personal thoughts go away okay." You nodded.

"Sorry sir." You bowed.

"Please go assist that table over there."

When you looked up you noticed it was Yoongi's ex with another girl. They were laughing and already having a good time and you had to seat them. You prayed to God she won't notice you.

And of course it was never in your favor. "You're the one that tried to steal my man." She glared at you but had an amusing smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about ma'am." You tried to be as respectful as ever. "Are you ready for your order?" You had a note and pen out.

"Can I have a stay the fuck away from my boyfriend." She said pretty loud that you had some people stare.

"Ma'am I think you have me confused with someone else, Can I please just do my job?" You raised your voice as well.

"You calling me an idiot?" She snapped. You couldn't believe this was happening.

You leaned in to lower your voice. "Stop being a fucking bitch and talk to Yoongi about this because I'm done....I'm trying to do my job as a mature adult and if you can't act your age you can get the fuck out."

You saw that both of there faces were in shock. You walked away throwing your apron down in the kitchen.

"I want to see a manager right away." You heard her yell after you.

You ran to the employee bathroom and wet your face with water. You could help the tears falling. She basically ruined your job for you. You were fired, you knew it.

"(Y/N)?" You heard a fellow employee enter. "Are you okay?"

"No." You wiped your face with a towel. "I'm gonna get fired because that selfish bitch out there."

"You're not getting fired....You have witnesses.....She was out of line." She rubbed your back. "Don't worry."

Once you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw your manager panicked. "(Y/N) What happened." He sounded angry.

"Sir she was accusing me of another person, I was just trying to do my job sir." You stood at attention.

"The customer is always right, we needed to make them happy." He rubbed his forehead. "I told you if it's personal don't bring it into my business."

"Just go home....I can't have you mess up our five stars." Your manager continued annoyed.

"Sir, am I fired." Your voice trembled.

"Sir." You heard another voice call.

"I don't know yet, just come early tomorrow and we'll talk about it." You went to the back and packed your things.

"What's going on (Y/N)?" The one chef asked.

"I don't know."

"You're not fired are you?" He asked from your response.

"Probably." Then you left.

.....

Outside you were walking towards your car when you noticed those two divas walk outside, laughing like before.

"Oh look." You heard the other one say.

"Aww....did you get fired." She laughed.

You didn't answer, you just continued to unlock your car.

"I'm talking to you bitch."

She was closer then you thought. "Get the fuck away from me." She was taller then you but that didn't scare you.

"I'm gonna tell you this once.....stay away from him."

"No worries." You smiled.

"Good....It's funny helping the poor....do you still have that money I left you."

You couldn't take another second of her annoying voice. You turned around and slammed her in the face as hard as you could. Her friend helped her up. Her nose was bleeding and her eye was already swollen.

"You're crazy." She cried.

"Thank you." You smiled and got into your car.

"You wait....I'll get your ass arrested."

....

You walked up your stairs slowly feeling exhausted. You felt happy that you could relax at home the rest of the day but you were losing half a days pay, plus you were probably fired anyway.

A few hours you heard a knock on your door. It was only 11 so you were surprised. You took the bag of ice off your hand and got up slowly. You didn't break anything from the punch but you hand was bruised pretty bad.

When you opened the door you couldn't believe who it was.

"What do you want?" You said but not rudely.

"Is my brother here?" She asked.

"No why would he be here?" You said more angry.

"Because he was in his studio and next thing I know he was gone."

"Sorry I can't help you." You were about to shut the door in her face but she interfered

"I'm sorry....okay." She said with attitude. "I'm sorry for acting like a bitch but can you blame me, dating my brother is kind of important....You can't just hide that kind of thing."

"I'm not dating your brother anymore so you win." You tried to close the door again.

"(Y/N) come on."

"What....I'm tired and I just want to be left alone."

"Why couldn't you tell me?" She asked.

"Because you made it impossible..... You are so protective of your brother, even though we have been best friends for years you somehow managed to think of me as an awful person if I'm interested in your brother."

"I'm sorry....it's weird but I just wish you would of told me right away."

She was right. You regretted it.

"I was scared." You finally said.

"Why?"

"Becasue you're my best friend and I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

Her eyes soften.

"Well you better find him before I change my mind." She had a slight smile.

"I'm not going back to him."

"(Y/N) My brother is seriously in love with you....that girl means nothing to him....just work."

You were surprised you were finally getting content from Jisoo.

"I keep calling him but he won't answer." She had her phone to her ear once again. "Now it's going straight to voicemail." She groaned.

"Is his car here?" You asked.

"Yeah."

"I might have an idea." You rode the elevator to the last floor and took the stairs up to the roof. Jisoo said she would check with one of his friends.

You opened the door and took a brick to keep it open. There he was. Sitting on the edge of the building with a drink. This didn't look good.

You tried to slowly walk up to him because if you scared him he would be falling straight off the building.

"Yoongi." You softly spoke.

"Hey." You could tell he was definitely drinking but he wasn't drunk.

Which made you more nervous. "Please step down from there."

"I'm fine." He said and looked back out to the distance.

"Yoongi please." You raised your voice.

"I'm not suicidal if that's what you're thinking." He said annoyed.

"I still don't like you up there."

"Want to join me?" He asked.

"No." You flat out answered.

"What, you afraid of heights?" He laughed.

"Stop laughing, please get down." You yelled again.

"Calm down, I'm up here all the time." You were right next to him by this point.

"Why haven't you been answering Jisoo's calls?" You asked.

He didn't answer he just pointed down. You looked over the edge and you could kind of make out what he was showing you. It was his phone smashed on the pavement.

"You dropped your phone?" You asked.

"No." He laughed. "I saw Jisoo calling so I threw it."

"Are you kidding me?" He was different with alcohol in his system.

"Do you Do stupid stuff like this a lot when you drink?" You said concerned.

"I don't remember." He stood up on the side of the building.

"What are you doing? Get down please." You felt like you were about to cry.

"What's the matter?" He laughed dumbfounded.

You had enough. You grabbed his hand and pulled him forward causing him to lose his balance and fall right on top of you. You both groaned from the slight pain.

"I'm going to kill you." You groaned again.

He leaned up but stopped to stare at you. "(Y/N)?"

You looked up at him.

"I really do love you." He said sounding more sober.

"I know." Was all you could say.

"Please forgive me." He said with a small hint of begging.

"I forgive you." You whispered.

"Can I kiss You?"

"Yes." You laughed.

He leaned down kissing you desperately. You missed his lips on yours. That feeling you were longing to have once again.

"No more drinking." You laughed pushing him off of you. "Your breath smells." You hated all smells of alcohol.

"Sorry." He got up and pulled you up with him.

"What's this?" He noticed your hand.

"I'll tell you later." You laughed.

He put his arm around you as you walked him out steadily since he was dizzy.

You made it to his bed and tucked him in. You started on your way out but he grabbed your hand. "Please stay."

"Okay." You got into bed with him. He started kissing down your neck making you giggle. "I'm not having sex with you."

He leaned his head up to look at you. "You've been drinking."

"Its not like we haven't before so you're not taking advantage."

"Still I like you as you when we do it."

He laid back turning his tv on. "Movie?"

You nodded. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and you saw it was Jisoo. You answered right away.

"Did you find him?" She asked.

"Yeah he's here fine....he was on the roof." You shivered feeling Yoongi tug down your sweats.

"Why wasn't he answering?" She asked.

"He dropped his phone off the edge by accident." You lied causing Yoongi to roll his eyes.

You felt him kiss up your thigh all the way to your sensitive area.

"Oh okay."

You jumped once you felt his tongue move through your folds.

"Do you want me to pick up food?" This was happening all over again. You tried to steady your breath to not be so obvious.

"Food?" You asked.

Yoongi mumbled against you.

"He said yes."

"Okay.....I'm going to take my time since you can't seem to take your hands off each other." Then she hung up.

"Thanks she caught us again."

"Who cares." He said and continued to suck on your clit. You moaned feeling him pleasure you.

"I didn't agree to this." You complained.

You felt him chuckle. You already started feeling your climax stirring up. Your moaning was getting louder so he knew you were close but before you could release he pulled away.

You looked up seeing what he was doing and he had a big smirk. "What are you doing?" You whined.

"I'm finished." He laid next to you.

"What the hell dick head."

"You were right....we'll wait." He laughed. He was the devil.

"I fucking hate you." You got up and unbuckled his jeans, pulling him out right away. He was hard already. Surprise surprise.

You settled down on him and desperately moved against him. It has been a long time and you didn't want to admit it but you needed him.

"I'm not that drunk by the way." He said out of breath. "I only had that one bottle and it's only 4% alcohol." He laughed.

"Whatever." You were also out of breath. He leaned forward and pushed you on the bed so he was on top. He thrusted in and out of you quickly causing your pleasure rising once again.

"I will kill you if you denied me again." You glared.

He laughed again picking up the pace. You were a moaning mess as you finally reached your high. He loved seeing you so weak under him it was always the cause for his release and you loved that even in this state he found you beautiful.

You both heard the door slam signaling Jisoo. "I guess we better go greet your sister." You said still breathless.

He pulled up his pants and you grabbed your sweats. Once you saw Jisoo she made a look of disgust.

"Thank you sis." Yoongi kissed her cheek.

"Ew." She pulled away. "I don't know where that mouth has been."

You blushed. "We didn't do anything." He lied.

"Liar.....I can smell the sex on you.....you should clean up."

"How do you even know the smell?" Yoongi asked.

"I'm not an idiot....it's not like I haven't."

"What?" He asked concerned.

"Now you're a caring older brother?"

You didn't mind their arguments you just got out plates setting the food out.

"You're dating?"

"No but I was."

"Who?" He asked.

"He's a little tispy." You confirmed.

"Aww you're caring when you drink."

"I'm not drunk." He glared at you.

"Oh and here's your phone." She handed him the broken smashed up phone.

"Who took your virginity?" He asked.

"Oh my god....I'm not talking to you about this." Yoongi wrapped his arms around Jisoo being a normal annoying brother.

"Stop." She laughed.

You felt happy seeing them like this. They were cute.

"I like you better sober." She complained.

"(Y/N) this way." Your manager called him into his office.

"Yes sir."

"You need to get your act together....whatever you're dealing with you need to forget about it when you're here."

"Of course sir, my apologies."

"But also if you need time off or you're sick....don't be afraid to come talk to me." That was surprisingly nice of him.

"Does this mean I'm not fired?" Your face lit up.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." He pursed his lips. "You have always been one of my best waitress, one incident can't ruin that.....but it better not happen again."

"Thank you sir." You stood up with a smile.

You didn't want to tell Yoongi what happened with that diva because you figured you were fired but now it was best to break the news to him.

"Its nice." You looked at Yoongi's new phone since his ended up damaged.

"I almost got fired the other night." You softly said.

"What happened? Anything to do with this?" He held your bruised hand.

"Yeah." You sighed. "Your ex came to the restaurant."

Yoongi looked at you in shook. "She said to stay away from you and that your hers."

"You kidding me?" You shook your head.

"I'm sorry....I'll talk to her." He looked ashamed. "We've been together for a long time but it was always complicated."

"She doesn't bother me, as long as she doesn't bother me at my job." You giggled.

"It won't happen again." He kissed your cheek.

You were enjoying your day off with him just cuddling on the couch watching movies. It was nice.

Until he got an unexpected call.

"Phone works." He got up. "I'll just be a minute."

....

When he got back from a twenty minute call, you grew confused. Who was he on the phone with for so long?

"Hey sorry about that." He sat back down.

"That call was good news and bad news." He had your attention. "That was the CEO of Def Jam records....he was offering me a job in La."

La as in America?

"There is an artist over there that he wants me to write for." He sounded excited.

"How long will you be gone?" You asked.

"A few months." That stung.

"But what if you can come with me." He held your hand.

"I would love to but I can't just leave, I have school and work."

"I know." He looked down.

"Don't worry....this is an amazing opportunity." You smiled. "When do you leave?"

"In a few days." He gave you sad eyes.

"It's fine....we can still talk to each other."

He kissed you passionately.

"I want you with me."

"Its okay." You kissed him again getting up to go to the kitchen.

"One favor?" You looked at him as he followed you into the kitchen. "Please don't let Jisoo burn my apartment down."

"No promises."

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camilliar · 6 years

Text

fic? post???

@stultiloquentia said I liked fics about the decline of man so here’s some crazy shit I’ve been writing for @tomato-greens where they’re all teenage runaways, maybe I’ll “finish” this “story” one day? pg13, eventual zimbits but not in this part, ~3k, I’d say “enjoy” but

Eric hadn’t begun to fathom just how large Jack was—how tall, how broad—until Jack reared up and bellowed in his face, “This isn’t a game!”

“I wasn’t playing.” Eric tried to straighten up, but he was only five feet.

“Either get with the program or go home!”

And, well, that sure hurt—Jack must have known Eric couldn’t go home, right? Wasn’t that the whole point? What else did Jack think they were doing out here? There wasn’t any home, not really, except this one, here and now.

Also, until Jack yelled, Eric wasn’t sure he knew English. Eric had only ever heard him speak in French before. So that was a revelation.

“What’d you do?” Shitty asked, as they were waiting to steal into the gas station bathroom on Moreland—the Shell, not the Chevron. Less foot traffic at this one. Fewer passersby.

“Nothing,” Eric swore, starting to waggle. He really had to go now. “I gave him a plant, is all.”

“A plant?”

“Yeah, you know, a little plant. A Christmas cactus.”

“A what?”

“Christmas cactus,” said Eric. “They’re pretty when they bloom. My mama used to have one—used to, she probably still does, oh boy, I can’t wait to get into the bathroom—what do you think is taking him so long in there?”

“I bet we don’t want to know,” said Shitty.

“Well, you’re probably right, I suppose—I was thinking I could water the cactus here, or Jack would—you know, if he took it from me—”

“She.”

“—if he took it from me, we could walk over here with it and just get it a little water, nice clean water like from the tap—don’t make that face at me, mister! I’ve been holding it all night.”

“You coulda got me up, you know.”

“Nah,” said Eric. “Nah, and destroy your beauty rest?”

“Nothing pretty about me,” said Shitty, and he grinned to show off his pointy canines. It made him look feral. Eric agreed he didn’t look pretty, though he was sure better-kempt than the rest of them. To that point, when the door flung open and Eric rushed inside, Shitty filed in after and, kindly, took a moment to lock the door. He had his dopp kid until his arm; it was his most prized thing. It looked about a thousand years old, like something from a fairy tale. Shitty put it on the edge of the sink and began removing little cannister, old film containers and pill bottles. Being brazen, sometimes Shitty would sneak into the bathroom of a nice restaurant and fill them with lotion, or soap. Sometimes he’d do it in a Target, just pumping shaving gel into an old film cannister. Why not steal the whole bottle? Eric had asked him once. It was something about that not being right, some code. He had a razor blade and he was shaving with it, carefully skirting his mustache. He was impeccably well-groomed for a bum, Eric thought.

One day maybe I’ll be able to grow a beard and then I’ll be impeccably well-groomed, Eric thought. He was only 14; maybe he’d be tall one day.

Or maybe he’d never find out. Was this temporary? He’d only been in Atlanta for two weeks. Had it only been two weeks? Don’t think about it, he reminded himself. Do your business. Don’t look.

He was still doing his business, his semi-hard cock in hand, when Shitty stuck an old Mortin bottle under his nose. Eric had never gone to high school, but he knew that smell; some of his daddy’s team used to smoke after practice, when they thought Coach had taken Eric home for supper.

“No thank you,” he said, shocked, clumsily stuffing his prick back into his pants, still wet at the tip. He would fret about that all day.

II.

Eric was confident that if he has access to his kitchen, he could make Jack feel better. The one time he’d seen Jack smile—really smile—was when Shitty’d brought him a Happy Meal with chicken nuggets and an apple pie for dessert.

“You know,” Eric had said, trying to be all casual-like, “McDonald’s pies aren’t very good.”

Jack had looked up; having shoved most of the thing into his mouth, his cheeks were bulging.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Eric had continued, “I can make an apple pie that’s a lot better.”

Having a mouth full of food hadn’t stopped Jack from trying to say, “Well, what good does that do us? Where do you think you’re gonna bake one?” Of course, with all that pie in his mouth, not to mention the weird accent, Eric hadn’t managed to make out what Jack had said exactly. But, that was the gist of it, Eric was certain.

“You don’t have to try to make her like you,” Shitty explained. They were walking down Moreland; Larissa had reported that, on the way into town with her mother, she had noticed that someone had left a big box of stuff on the curb up on Briarcliff. Eric had never been to the other side of Ponce, and he was nervous-excited. “Just rich people over there,” Shitty had explained, “real bougie fucks.” Eric didn’t know what bougies were, but they were going to check it out.

“You think there’s any kitchen stuff in that box?” Eric asked. Waiting to cross Freedom Parkway took an eternity.

“Oh, yeah.” Shitty rubbed his hands together, like he’d realized this was a great idea. “That’d be good, if it’s vintage we could try to sell it at Highland Antiques, get some cash. Or is that one of those antiques malls where you have to rent a booth?” He began to stroke his chin. “I wonder.”

The light changed, and Eric scurried across in Shitty’s wake. “Nah, I mean like, we could hold onto it, use it to cook something.”

“Like over a fire,” Shitty agreed, “real old-timey hobo-like shit. Make some beans.”

“I was just thinking since Jack liked that that awful pie from McDonald’s, maybe he’d like my award-winning apple pie, which is much better.”

Again, at North, they had to stop and wait for traffic.

“You can cook a pie over a fire?”

Eric had begun to notice that Shitty was more difficult to deal with right after he’d smoked some pot, which was just about always.

“You cook a pie in the oven.”

“I doubt there’s gonna be an oven at the end of someone’s driveway,” Shitty said. “When rich people get a new oven, the Best Buy or whatever hauls the old one away.”

“Well,” Eric said, consoling himself. “Maybe there’s a pie plate. I shoulda brought mine. That was pretty darn stupid of me, huh?”

Shitty put a hand to Eric’s back, as if to usher him across North Avenue. “Listen, kiddo. It’s nice of you to want to do something sweet for Jack and all, but you gotta let her live with her choices. Junkies get a little junk-sick sometimes, you know?” As they got to the other side of the street, he paused. After a moment, he added, “Let’s go to the Borders sometime and steal you a copy of Naked Lunch.”

“Naked what?” Eric asked. He was only able to half-focus on Shitty’s explanation, too busy hoping beyond hope he’d find something pretty in that box on Moreland to bring home—such as it was home—for Jack.

When they got there, to Eric’s disappointment, the box had already been picked up by the garbagemen.

“Fuckin’ DeKalb County,” Shitty mused. “Fuckin’ yuppie assholes.”

Eric had no clue what he was talking about, none whatsoever.

III.

Borders didn’t have a copy of Naked Lunch, or anything else by the author. “Fuckin’ capitalism,” Shitty complained. “This whole place is full of garbage, not books. Who needs any of this?” He picked up something on a display of mostly stationery, a plastic deer figurine in pink glitter. Eric thought, well, the store is full of mostly books? He did like that sparkly deer. He wished Shitty would steal it for him, but Shitty had a twisted code about stealing things Eric might actually like. “Come on, we’d better go to Whole Foods, see if there’s free tortilla chip samples.”

But at the door of the Whole Foods, a staff member stacking handbaskets looked at them funny and said, “Excuse me.”

Shitty paid him little heed, just said, “Hey, bro,” entered anyway.

Eric had never been in a Whole Foods before. It was dark, not bright like a Publix. And not for lack of light—there were overhead lights. It was just yellow, washed-out, dingy. It didn’t feel clean like a Publix; it felt less clean than Kroger.

“Oh, good,” Shitty said, dragging Eric by the arm. “Guacamole.”

It wasn’t guacamole, though, it was pineapple salsa.

“Bullshit,” sad Shitty, “total bullshit. But, here, eat this anyway.” He had somehow managed to pile it only about four chips at once. “Beat off the scurvy.”

“You think there’s anything here Jack would like?”

Through a mouth of tortilla chips, Shitty said, “There’s nothing anywhere Jack would like, because Jack only likes two things: narcotics, and feeling sorry for herself.”

Eric wasn’t sure he liked what these chips tasted like; they shimmered under the yellow lights with a glean of oil, like they’d come out of a deep-fryer. Sometimes at UGA games Eric’s father would take him to his buddies’ various tailgates, and some of those guys had deep fryers, and, well, Eric knew what flour tortillas in corn oil tasted like. He preferred Tostitos, with their dry, clean starch—but he realized, now that he was eating, that he’d been hungry all morning, truly hungry. He’d been hungry for so long that he forgot he was hungry until he had some food.

“See, the thing with Jack is,” Shitty started to explain, but the same employee who’d been stacking baskets approached them.

“How’re you boys doing?” he asked.

Shitty had tortilla chip crumbs in his mustache. “Thanks for asking, bro, we’re fine. When does the guac come out?”

Eric wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

Shitty’s question wasn’t answered.

IV.

It was easy to lose track of time, Eric figured, when day after day was the same and you had nowhere to go and nothing to do. It felt wrong when he thought of it: he had things to do, didn’t he? Wasn’t he supposed to be looking for a place to stay? But Eric was no closer to affording an apartment than he had been upon arrival in Atlanta, and some kind of gravity, or lack of inertia, kept him spinning in circles. The highlight of his week became Larissa’s trip into the city on Saturday mornings; she would take a walk in the park with Shitty while her mother did errands. Sometimes, out of pity, Mrs. Larissa’s Mother gave Eric a few dollars.

“Don’t blow it all in one place,” Shitty chided. He was about to head off with Larissa toward Inman Park. What would they do there, and where would they go when the weather got too cold to spend it outside? Eric thought for a few minutes about other places Shitty and Larissa could walk to, but then Eric realized Shitty’s walks in the park were the least of his worries.

When Jack woke up that afternoon he wasn’t in such a bad mood, so Eric felt like it was safe to ask him: “What do we do when it gets cold out?”

Jack blinked his eyes open, slowly at first and then all at once, like the question caught him off-guard. “I don’t know what you’ll do,” he said, “but I’m staying here.”

“In Atlanta?”

“Right here.”

The thought was so disturbing that Eric wandered down the street until he remembered he had three dollars in his pocket. He was a block down from the Zesto, and found himself walking toward it until he was pressed up against the window, looking in, reading the menu over the counter. A sundae was a bit over three dollars. Feeling determined, Eric began to inspect the sidewalk and then the parking lot, hoping to find anything: a nickel, a dime, a quarter. Anything would help.

A pair of ladies holding hands were walking down McLendon toward the corner, on the other side of the street. Feeling bold, and determined, he jogged toward them.

“Hi, ma’am,” he said. “Ma’ams.” Suddenly, Eric was grateful for how long it took the light to change before a person could get to the other side of Moreland. “How’s your day?”

One of them was wearing aviator sunglasses and a poofy skirt that sat high up on her waist. She was big-chested and had on a patterned V-neck T-shirt. She let go of the other woman’s hand and said, “Okay.”

“I was just wondering—” now Eric felt solidly deranged “—if you would be so kind, do you have a couple cents on you? A sundae at the Zesto is three-twenty-nine, and my friend Larissa only gave me three bucks, so I was hoping—”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence before he got a dollar along with the question, “Aren’t you too young to be panhandling?” But, mercifully, they didn’t wait for Eric to answer.

On one hand, if Eric sauntered back leisurely, the sundae would begin to melt; on the other, if he ran, truly hustled, he might spill it. He tried to split the difference, and spent the walk daydreaming of all the things he’d buy for Jack one day, if he would only afford it: a beautiful old razor like his grandfather had owned; a Kindle, so Jack could read all the books he wanted without having to fret about going to the store; new yellow sneakers, fresh as they were vivid as they were hideous.

“What’s that?” Jack asked warily, when he saw Eric approach with something in hand.

“Just a sundae, from Zesto.” Eric paused. “I thought we could split it?”

“I don’t want to share a spoon.”

“I got two spoons.” Eric squatted, careful not to rest his weight on Jack’s blankets. “You like hot fudge, right?”

Jack only grunted.

“These nice ladies gave me a dollar,” Eric explained, removing the lid from the sundae. “You know, I had to really screw up my courage to ask them, but it wasn’t too hard once I put my mind to it. They seemed real friendly, but they asked what I was doing panhandling, said I was too young to be doing that. I don’t think I’m too young, do you? I think I’m just about the right age for things, I mean, we all gotta learn to put ourselves out there at some point, I guess.” He sighed, digging his spoon into the melting soft serve. “I’m still worried about what to do when it gets real cold out.”

Jack, who had already been eating the ice cream, had white on his lips. He licked them, slowly. “I used to worry about it too,” he said, before helping himself to another spoonful.

“What made you stop?”

Jack swallowed his ice cream. “Heroin.”

Eric had nothing to say to that, so he kept eating, perhaps a little too quickly, given how thoroughly he wanted to savor things. Then again, the sundae was melting, so.

Suddenly, Eric was deeply, depressingly aware of how rare this moment was: Jack was being honest, and he didn’t seem sick, and he didn’t seem angry. Eric was midway through helping himself to another bite of ice cream when he got a bizarre urge not to feed himself but to offer his spoon to Jack instead.

And Jack accepted, which was weirder.

It made something in Eric start to burn, start to fill his chest with—god, some emotion, some strong tug from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

Eric cleared his throat, to get Jack’s attention. “Listen, Jack, can I ask you something?”

Jack looked up. “I guess,” he said. “For the ice cream.”

“Why—” It was hard for Eric to get it out. “Why does Shitty call you ‘she’?”

Their nice moment was over.

“He shouldn’t,” Jack said, drawing his arm up, to shield his face. “Does he? He shouldn’t.”

“Well, I was just wondering—”

“Stop wondering.”

“But—”

Now Eric felt awful stupid.

“Never call me that. She doesn’t exist. You’ll never get to meet her, so don’t ask.” Jack put his face in his hands.

“But who’s ‘she’?”

“She’s nobody, so shutup.”

Eric was good at that—shutting up. He merely put a hand at Jack’s back, felt him trembling. “You want some more ice cream?”

Jack looked up, pushed himself to his feet. The plastic spoon from Zesto clattered to the pavement. “I gotta—” He found something, dug it out of his blankets. “I need the bathroom, don’t follow me.”

It had been months now, so Eric knew Jack needed the bathroom the way his mother needed her alone time: to do something she really ought not to have been doing, that was, behind closed doors. Eric had seen Jack crush pills in his fist and rub them into his gums, that night he’d probably thought Eric was sleeping and couldn’t see it.

In the plastic bowl their sundae was a puddle of white streaked with brown. Eric might have gotten a C+ in eighth-grade English, but he knew symbolism when he saw it.

#fic post

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