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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 11 months

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How would the M6 react to a very very short MC? Probably 4'10 or less?

No I'm not projecting, I'm a tol gorl (I'm a gnome)

The Arcana HCs: M6 with a short MC

~ @zedibleandedible of course you're not, you are a perfectly average height XD I hope you like these, friend! - brainrot ~

-- for headcanon purposes, MC is a fully grown, 4'9 adult. I'll be putting M6's canon heights by their names as well --

Julian - 6'4

Upon meeting you, his mind follows this logical process exactly:

Wow, you are very short

He knows a short person very well. That short person is Pasha

Pasha is not to be messed with

Therefore, you are not to be messed with

But also, Pasha is his precious little sister and must be protected at all costs

Therefore, MC is clearly meant to become someone very precious to him, and he must now protect them at all costs too

This is what was going on behind that plague doctor's mask before you were able to get a read on him. He was stalling because he needed to figure out how to proceed

Having learned the hard way with his little sister, he is going to check first before making any jokes about your height

But if you give him permission, he is going to make so many. He's been saving up short jokes about Portia for years and this is a brand new innocent person to unleash them all on

Kisses work by grabbing his collar and yanking. He doesn't mind it

Asra - 5'8

They think you're perfect and adorable in every way. Your height just puts you at optimal top-of-the-head kisses level

If you think he won't take advantage of this to hold you to his heartbeat each time he hugs you, he absolutely will

They're used to being the short one in their friend groups, so you're definitely a change of pace (in a good way!)

Every time he sees you he wants to pick you up

They want to pat the top of your head so badly

It's right there, and it's so pattable!

But he's so careful about not pressuring you that it takes months of you asking if there's something wrong with your hair before he explains why he keeps staring at it

Teaches you all kinds of spells to float things off of high shelves

Likes watching you put people in their place when they assume that being short means it's okay to pick on you

Knits you a closetful of beanies because the top of your head is visible and so cute and they keep getting distracted whenever they can see it. Joke's on him, you're even cuter wearing the stuff they made for you

Nadia - 5'10

She's composed on the outside but on the inside she's melting

You will not know until you've been together for a very long time and you know just how much she respects you, because

Oh my goodness

She needs to squish you so bad

Or pick you up in her arms. Just once

She knows for a fact that you are strong and smart and capable and someone to take seriously

But you are an entire foot shorter than she is

On the plus side, it means she can just smother you every time she pulls you close for a hug

On the down side, she never wants to miss the opportunity to kiss you, but she's worried that her lips aren't easily accessible enough for when you want to initiate

She starts wearing clothes with lots of fabric flowing from her shoulders so it's easier for you to pull her down for a smooch

Will absolutely destroy anyone who insinuates that you can't be taken seriously because you're too small. Valerius learned a valuable lesson about not looking down his nose at you

Muriel - 6'10

He's terrified

Look, he is over two feet taller than you are. That's at least one chicken's difference. Maybe even two small chickens

What if he hurts you on accident? What if he walks into a room and doesn't see you there? What if you stand next to him and he hits you with his elbow?

Even more scared when you have to share a sleeping space, if he rolls over he could crush you and you wouldn't be able to escape

Until he sees how you respond to Morga and how easily you take to fighting

He's still terrified, but in the other direction

You can do insanely powerful things for someone your size

You also show him proof of his size being a positive thing - you're constantly asking him to reach things for you, and you're always using his wake to get through crowds

He doesn't want to have to double over each time he wants a hug or a kiss, so he gets in the habit of finding something to sit on anytime you two are in the same space so he's easy to reach

Suddenly the hut and clearing have so many tree stump stools

Portia - 5'1

FINALLY

Finally, somebody's shorter than her and not by half an inch!

She knows how annoying all the short jokes can be, she's not going to put you through that

Unless the cuteness aggression kicks in and then she is unloading every joke she's gotten over the years just for the satisfaction of not being on the receiving end of them

Loves being able to lean her head on top of yours during hugs and does so constantly

If you ask her to reach something down for you she will melt into a smug little puddle and gently tease you afterwards

Both of you are people to be reckoned with, so if the two of you ever get an insensitive comment from some foreign noble about Vesuvia sending "travel-sized" citizens they are in for a rough time

All the sailors on the boat now mentally equate "short" with "very strong"

But you are still their go-to person for when there's a small sack of something that's been wedged between a barrel and the corner of the hold, and then would you be so kind as to squeeze in and grab it for them?

Lucio - 5'10

Oh, you never heard the end of it when he was still a ghostly goatman

He was calling you every height-referencing nickname under the sun, and the more annoyed or upset you got the cuter he thought it was

Wait, cute? Oh no. Oh no, he thinks you're cute oh nooo ...

He tones it down quite a bit as he comes to respect and admire you, and eventually quits the nicknames altogether in an attempt to get you to like him better too

But he will never stop loving your height difference!

He feels so tall and manly and big next to you

Every time you ask him to reach something or look over the crowd for you his chest puffs up with pride

Makes the offer multiple times for you to sit on his shoulders to see a performance or announcement better whenever you're passing through a busy marketplace or town square

Will defend your honor against anyone who insults your height, but likes it even better when he holds your travel pack for you while you correct them

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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kylejsugarman · 11 months

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i cannot escape the au squared baby brainrot… she and jesse literally just live in my head rent-free and i rotate them like a rotisserie chicken. just like tell us more please? 🥺

😭 anon ur so sweet, im glad u like it so much!! im just sorry that i dont have much to add to it beyond the general concept of jesse figuring out how to keep a tiny creature alive. theres a huge learning curve of him realizing he's done something wrong or something has happened to baby and instantly doing everything to avoid it happening again. she gets a little sunburned on her neck when he takes her out during the summer and hes like "im going to kill myself" until he realizes he can just get her a little hat to protect her head and neck (thus the saga of the red beanie and the red firetruck bucket hat is born). mike initially doesnt want to get involved but the father in him keeps randomly emerging, especially when jesse is clueless about something. they'll be in the car dead silent during a ride out to the desert and mike will be like "make sure u always go to the pediatrician office at stone crossing. they know what they're doing there." jesse tries to act like he doesnt need or want this advice but there absolutely comes a time where mike gets a call from jesse where he's like (daughter tearfully calling her dad to ask how to change a tire from the side of the road voice) "hey. how do u put together a car seat." and also just like!! its stressful to have a literal infant relying on u, especially when ur living this malcom in the middle-ass life, but none of it really matters because jesse loves being around baby. no one ever told him that babies can be fun. at the end of a shitty day, its actually really nice to come home and walk her around making godzilla stepping on buildings noises or laugh at her fluent but incoherent rambling that she's obviously picked up from hearing him talk

#anonymous #ask #syd squeaks #im sorry theres not like. lore or more interesting stuff!!! it was literally invented for the indulgence of it all unfortunately #jesse pinkman #baby ayuluk #he doesnt need help. he is possessive of his baby. however. if anyone has instructions for a booster seat please call this numb #au squared

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wonderlustlucas · 3 years

Text

home - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 2.7k ⇢ genre fluff, kind of angsty? ⇢ warnings insinuated that this takes place during covid & that reader has some case of depression/anxiety i literally wrote her as me so like ⇢ summary In which Hyunjin shows you just how special you are.—college!au ⇢ a/n happy birthday to my love, my comfort, my home

What am I doing here?

Unfortunately, there is no one else to blame but herself for being left without plans on this Friday night. Regretfully so, she instead finds herself alone on the upper level of the business building. Scratch that, the whole building, probably – she’s been here since four, and the few students that were once alongside her left hours ago. Initially here to work on an essay, she now occupies her time bouncing between YouTube, Twitch, and Crunchyroll, watching whatever she is feeling at the moment despite Monday’s deadline looming over her.

Sighing, she looks away from a boring page of YouTube recommendations, stretches her neck, and reaches for her hot chocolate. Well, not hot anymore, she realizes with a wince after taking a sip, struggling to swallow the now cold drink. Gaze flicking to the time on the corner of her laptop, she frowns. 9:43. She considers walking home once it hits ten, the unstirred silence of the building starting to prick up her spine like needles. Home, she thinks with an amused exhale from her nose. A too small, overheated double dorm room that technically is a single now that her roommate has gone online for the rest of the semester. Home.

She wonders, briefly, if anyone were to miss her if she were to go home home. If anyone would even notice, anyway.

She wouldn’t expect them to, honestly. It’s not as if she goes out of her way to hang out with anyone, usually opting to cozy up in her room and pretend she does not see the groupchat blowing up with plans to meet at the dining hall, a study session at the library, a trip to the mall. She loves her friends, really, but can rarely find it in herself to actually participate in said friend activities. Sure, there are some nights she actually leaves the confines of her room to join them, but to be quite frank, she’s glad they have learned to simply stop inviting her. Makes the whole looking for an excuse problem a lot easier.

Besides, who would want to go out on a night like this, anyway?

Just as she has flipped to page fifty-three of The Old Man and the Sea, she looks away in boredom, instead opting to gaze out the window. Focusing past her reflection on the tall glass pane, a warm feeling she can only describe as peace seems to settle over her, watching the snow fall like moonlit glitter across campus. The snowstorm had started light when she first arrived, soft enough she could manage with her hood down, dotting her with only miniature droplets of water. Now, though, the flakes are so large she can focus on one at a time as they fly past, covering the ground with a solid two or three inches at this point. In the distance, she can spot snowplows making their rounds to clear the pathways, the route to the business building already turned slushy blue as salt melts the continuous snow.

She sighs, eyes wide like a child as she represses the urge to go outside and grab a handful of it, maybe fall onto one of the lawns and make a snow angel, stick her tongue out and try to catch one of the large flakes. Tomorrow, maybe, she thinks, looking at her grey sweatpants and deciding walking back with soaked pants in this weather would not be the best idea.

So late into March, she cannot help but chuckle at the number of students complaining about the snow and cold temperature on SnapChat, even her friends having to change their plans. She, on the other hand, finds such last chance snowstorm beautiful; sure, she was ready for spring and eventually a break from school, but watching the snow dancing under the streetlights, choreographed by the gentle wind, she thinks it’s something to hold on to, keep her grounded to reality that albeit the stress and monotony of college, such moments like these still exist.

She jumps at the sound of the front entrance slamming closed.

Who the hell? She frowns, annoyed at whoever decided now was a good time to come inside, subsequently ruining her little moment of serenity. Turning red at the thought of some raunchy couple thinking to spice things up in the presumably empty building, she considers packing her bag and heading out. But no matter which exit, they would still see her, and that would be painstakingly awkward. Maybe she could escape into one of the smaller reservation rooms, or at least make some exaggerated noise so they at least know they’re not alone.

Could just be a janitor, or maybe someone else deciding to shelter somewhere other than their dorm to buckle down and do some work, she thinks. No matter who it is and what their intentions are, her leg is already bouncing a mile a minute having gotten used to having the space to herself.

So caught up on how or when she should take her leave, she does not hear the footsteps coming up the stairs until they’re right behind her. Tensing up, she watches in the window’s reflection as the business building’s second occupant steps up onto the platform and… heads towards her. Panic setting in, she tries to decipher who it is through the blurry reflection but to no avail, heart racing at the thought of a stranger approaching her, one of her friends finding her here on a Friday night, a janitor going to ask her to leave.

She turns her head as soon as they stop beside her.

“Hyunjin?” She blurts, taken aback. This was the last person she expected to be here. Somewhat relieved but heart still beating in her throat, she blinks up at the tall boy to make sure it’s really him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” he returns, pulling his mask down below his chin and smiling cheekily at her. “I went to go pick up my food and saw you in the window,” Hyunjin explains, tugging the beanie off his head and shaking his hair out, showering her in the tiny droplets. Wrinkling her nose, she takes notice of the Chipotle bag in his hand and how soaked his coat is.

“Here,” she offers, reaching for the bag. Passing it to her with a grateful smile, Hyunjin unzips his coat and sets it over a chair beside her alongside his beanie, wipes the melted snow and sweat from his eyes, and tries to fix his now mused bangs. “So, what are you doing here?” He asks while doing this, regarding her with an amused glint in his eyes.

“Work,” she sighs. Then, glancing to the screen of her laptop and realizing it’s still the home page of YouTube, she grimaces. “Trying to do work. Not really. Just watching the snow.”

“It’s a lot prettier when you’re inside,” Hyunjin comments, following her gaze to watch the frenzy of snow before taking the bag from her and offering a quiet thanks. “But I meant more why are you here?”

She isn’t quite sure what her relationship with Hyunjin is. Having been one of the many acquaintances she barely made at freshman orientation, he did not seem like the kind of person she expected to still be in her life. She wouldn’t exactly say they were close, but she considers Hyunjin a friend, she thinks. After a good month or two forgetting he existed, she randomly bumped into him at the dining hall, recognizing that unfairly attractive face of his in line for chicken nuggets and immediately falling into conversation. Turns out, he was mutual friends with her lab partner, Kim Seungmin.

She does not see Hyunjin as much as she wishes she did. She had not shared any classes with him in the past three years, and even if her friend group and his overlapped in the slightest, it was not always a given that they both would be able to hang out as much as their closer friends do. Still, there always seems to be a random occasion, such as now, where they bump into one another. Each time is a pleasant surprise, of course, and not just because of his pretty face and wide shoulders, but because he has always seemed to care for her in a way no one else does, and that in itself is enough to have her heart racing every time he comes close.

Not that she has a crush on him or anything, but it definitely is hard trying not to fall in love every time he even so much as smiles at her.

Face heating up in embarrassment at his question, she avoids looking him in the eyes and randomly minimizes the Chrome tab on her laptop. “You know,” she drones on, “just taking it easy for the night.”

Hyunjin hums in agreement, opening the lid of his burrito bowl and stabbing a fork into the layers. Even her mouth waters. “I feel like I never see you,” he contemplates, finally taking a bite. His words surprise her. “Uh, yeah,” she coughs, forcing herself to look away before she gets too enraptured over how beautiful he looks even after trekking through a snowstorm, long hair messy but falling over his face in a way that has her fingers twitching to tuck away. “I usually don’t go out with everyone. Not my scene.”

“Aw,” he coos, “I get that. Sometimes I’m the same way, I just want to relax on the weekends after working so much all week.”

Thank you!, she almost shouts, but bites her tongue. She agrees, but even she does not know why she can’t find it in herself to go out and party with everyone else. She’s just lazy, to put it simply. Nevertheless, his words put her at ease, no longer worried that he might think she’s a loser for staying in every weekend.

“Exactly,” she agrees, “parties are fun, sometimes. But I just prefer laying low. I don’t think my friends like that, though.”

Gaze finding his, her heart does somersaults at the smile he offers. “Nah,” Hyunjin says, confident, “no one thinks that. Everyone has their way of having fun. Honestly, all I’ve ever heard is your friends complaining how they miss you and that you would make going out more fun since you’re so funny.”

“Which is true, by the way,” he adds.

She feels as if she is going to combust. “Oh,” she croaks, throat dry, “um, thank you. That’s sweet of them. And you. I guess I didn’t consider that they miss me when they go out.”

Hyunjin scoffs, raising a brow but finishes chewing before speaking again. “Are you nuts? You’re so fun to be around, of course they’re going to miss you.”

“Okay, stop that,” she laughs, burning from the inside out at his compliments. “Just being honest,” he laughs, opening the bag of his tortilla chips. “Want any?”

She looks at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure.”

“Okay,” she huffs out an airy laugh, rolling her chair closer to his. Miscalculating that he was going to move, too, she quite literally feels her blood pressure skyrocket as her knees bump into his. And he doesn’t move. “Here,” moving the bag closer to the edge of the table, Hyunjin glances at her for only a split second before focusing on his bowl again.

Reaching into the bag, she feels emboldened not only by his previous flattery, but his proximity as well, and scrambles to continue the conversation. “Why are you eating Chipotle so late?”

“Pre-birthday celebration. Also, DoorDash took forever,” Hyunjin laughs.

“When’s your birthday?” She asks, munching on a chip.

“In,” he pauses, tapping his phone, “two hours.”

Oh. “What?” She gasps, blinking at him. “What? Why aren’t you out? It’s your birthday weekend and you’re here eating Chipotle?”

“Woah, okay Miss I-Prefer-Laying-Low. Maybe I wanted to chill tonight, since tomorrow I’m going out? Hm?” Hyunjin chuckles at her scowl, pursing his lips. “Okay, yeah, I guess but—”

“No but’s,” he interrupts, the amused glint in his eyes disappearing, “I’m here now, and that’s what matters, right? I’m lucky I saw you in the window.”

“I guess,” she mutters, realizing her heart has not stopped its staccato frenzy since moving closer, “you scared me, by the way. I’ve been here alone for hours and suddenly someone is walking up to me, I think I shit my pants.”

Hyunjin bellows out a laugh, and such an airy sound momentarily leaves her awestruck. Oh, god, she’s in deep. It’s over.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggles, battling her hand to reach for a chip. Even the touch of his long fingers against hers has the entire butterfly population roaring to life in her gut. “Look, I made up for it by gifting you chips.”

“True,” she hums, licking residue salt off her fingers before leaning back in her chair to catch a breather. Too much physical contact and emotion for one night.

“What are you doing next weekend?” Hyunjin asks, taking her by surprise. Again. She thinks she is going to faint if she isn’t able to wrap herself around him within the next fifteen seconds.

“Um,” she starts, then remembers her previous idea of going home after this week was over. “I was probably going to go home next Friday.”

“Oh,” is all Hyunjin says, seemingly disappointed. “Why?”

She grits her teeth. Why? Really? “I don’t know,” she shrugs, not even convinced herself, “I’m bored and lonely here. I love everyone here but I miss my friends at home. I might as well be slightly less bored at home.” Hyunjin frowns.

“Okay, what about this,” he starts, leaning close enough she can count his individual eyelashes and nearly smell the flavor of his lip balm, “you go out with us tomorrow night and if you have fun, you hang out with us next weekend, too. Oh, and whenever you want some company, you text me and we’ll come here or somewhere else and do homework together or just chill. How does that sound?”

All she can do is blink at him. Her initial thought is how dare he try negotiating whether I go home or not? But, there it is, again, she realizes. That extra step he takes, the genuine care he shows her, acting like her well-being is his responsibility. “You don’t have to do that, Hyunjin. I don’t want to bother you every time I feel lonely. I’ll be fine.”

“Christ, you’re dense,” rolling his eyes, Hyunjin sets his fork down, wipes his hands on his thighs, and suddenly leans in to hold her face with both hands, “I wouldn’t offer to sit around and do homework with you when you’re in need of a friend if I didn’t want to.”

Her heart is racing so fast she fears he may be able to hear the thud of it against her chest. What he’s saying is starting to sound a lot more than some friend-to-friend comfort, and it’s making her head hurt, especially with his thumbs ever so slightly swiping against her cheeks. At her silence, he starts again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice dropping an octave, “don’t go home. This is your home, too, you just don’t want it to be.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she thinks she is going to say something, but nothing comes out. There is nothing to say. Hyunjin is right, he has read her like an open book, and he’s here to offer his shoulder to lean on. “Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll go out with everyone tomorrow. And I’ll try and stay here for the rest of the semester.”

“That’s my girl,” Hyunjin smiles, leaning closer and pressing a featherlight kiss to her lips. At first, it takes her by surprise. But then it all starts to make sense. The snow makes sense. Her essay makes sense. Being here makes sense. Hyunjin makes sense. His birthday makes sense. She makes sense.

Outside the glass windows, the wind starts to howl, blowing the composed ballet of snow to its final act, covering the pathways and the streetlights and the roof of the business building in perfect white glitter. Inside these windows, she realizes they would notice if she were to go home.

Why would she ever do that when her second home is right here in front of her?

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caffeinatedbraincell · 3 years

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So you asked about prompts? ;D What about Joe/Nicky + any team member cuddling for warmth? Or something about all of them sharing clothes? Huge bonus if Lykon is still part of the Guard ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you anon for the ask!! 💕 This took forever but here it is~

Read on AO3

“Whose idea was this, again?” Joe complained, readjusting the weight of the front half of the giant plastic evergreen. He was sweating and freezing at the same time, which was decidedly one of his least favorite feelings ever.

“Yeah, I wonder,” Quynh seconded from behind him, throwing Andy a dirty look.

Andy sauntered hands-free in front of them, talking animatedly with Nicky and Lykon as they walked. The three of them clearly loved the snow, though Joe doubted they would be having even half as much fun if they had to carry the tree.

Quynh spat out some plastic pine needles. “Andromache! It’s your turn to carry this, come here!”

“Pleeease babe, we’re almost home!”

“Yeah,” Nicky interjected. “Besides, we have to carry the presents!” He waved the small, sparkly gift bag at them before pointedly turning back around.

Joe muttered something in Arabic about lazy spouses with nice asses, and Quynh cackled.

“Alright, alright,” Lykon interjected, jumping in front to get everyone’s attention. “Booker just texted me that he’s managed to get Nile out of the house under the pretext of, and I quote, ‘the snowball duel of the century.’ They’re going to the mountain pass, so we have two hours to get set up.”

“Perfetto,” Nicky said. “It’ll take me about twenty minutes to get the cookies in the oven, and then I’ll help decorate the tree.”

“You better get out in less than twenty,” Quynh warned. “When am I supposed to work? Do you even know how long it takes to cook chicken?”

“He doesn’t,” Joe confirmed.

“Habibi, that’s not fair. What about that time I made-”

A long, ominous buzz innervated all of their phones simultaneously. It was an emergency weather alert.

“Blizzard warning until 2:15 AM. All inner city residents are encouraged to shelter in place until further notice. Sudden snowfall and landslides may prove deadly,” Nicky read.

“Lykon, text Booker,” Andy ordered.

“On it.”

“No use,” Nicky cut in. “They’re probably already at the mountain pass. They won’t make it back in time.”

Andy swore loudly. “Joe, get the car. We’re going after them.”

Quynh and Joe dropped the tree and ran towards the house. By the time Joe started the car, Quynh was climbing down the porch steps with an armful of towels. The five of them piled into the car and tore down the icy roads.

The storm picked up with terrifying haste. When they got to the bridge near the mountain pass, visibility was already nearing zero. Joe switched places with Andy, clambering into the passenger seat so she could take the wheel. If anything could help them now, it was Andy’s extensive experience with driving in extreme weather conditions.

As they traveled through the pass, everyone kept their eyes trained on the snowy slopes, looking for any signs of Nile and Booker.

Suddenly, Lykon cried out in horror. Only a few feet away from the road were two motionless bodies, almost fully buried in a snow drift.

“Cazzo!” Nicky yelled, leaping out of the car. “There must have been an avalanche!”

Andy shoved the gearshift into parking and followed, joining the others as they attempted to dig out their friends with their bare hands. About two minutes after the frostbite set in, they were able to pull Nile and Booker free of the drift.

“Why aren’t they waking up?” Lykon asked, a tinge of panic in his voice. Andy rubbed Nile’s wrist as she looked at her watch, attempting to measure a pulse. Nicky tried to do the same for Booker, unconsciously chanting a Hail Mary under his breath.

Quynh stepped forward. “We need to get them back to the car. The heater will warm them up and help dry them off. Come on.”

Joe picked up Nile in his arms, cradling her head. Quynh threw Booker over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. This time, they noticed neither the weight nor the cold. Their entire focus was on getting their friends home to warmth and safety.

“Joe, your coat,” Andy said as they got to the car. “It’s fleece. Take Nile’s ski jacket off and give her yours.”

Joe obeyed without hesitation, bundling her in his own winter gear and buckling her into the back seat. Meanwhile, Quynh and Nicky used the towels to dry off Booker’s snow coat as best as they could. Lykon climbed into the passenger seat, and Andy began to drive.

Thankfully, the storm didn’t get worse on their way back (though Joe seriously doubted it could get worse). By the time Andy pulled into their driveway, Nile and Booker were beginning to stir.

“Hey, easy now,” Lykon soothed, helping a dazed Booker out of the car. “Let’s get you inside. There we go, you’re okay. Just a little farther.”

Behind them, Nile leaned heavily on Quynh as she half-carried her up the porch steps. Joe paused, watching them enter.

“All okay?” Andy asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as the wind whipped the snow around them.

“The tree…” Joe muttered, fazed. “I dropped it somewhere. We were going to surprise Nile, and I-”

Andy turned him gently to face her, pulling his woolen beanie down to cover his ears.

“It’s alright, love,” she said softly, switching to Arabic. “She needs a different kind of comfort from us now. She and Booker both. Let’s go take care of them, okay?”

Joe nodded, following her into the warmth of their home.

A fire blazed happily in the hearth. Someone had expanded their futon and pulled it closer to the fireplace. Nile and Booker were seated on it now, wearing large, clean sweatpants - Nicky’s sweatpants, Joe noticed - and fuzzy Christmas sweaters. Quynh and Lykon were snuggled up on either side of them, feeding them something from a thermos flask and adjusting the heated blankets.

“Room for two more?” Andy grinned, curling up next to Quynh and gesturing at Joe to sit. “What’s that?” Joe asked, sliding under Lykon’s side of the blanket and pointing at the steaming drink in the thermos.

“I made apple cider earlier and left it in the instant pot,” Lykon replied. “It was still hot.”

Lykon held the drink to Nile’s lips. She took a large sip, sighing happily. Joe made a mental note to pour himself some cider if he ever got out from under this heated blanket.

Just then, Nicky walked out of the kitchen, balancing a large tray in his hands. “Soup time! Everyone sit up, let’s eat.”

Joe blinked, wondering how his husband had had the presence of mind to immediately go into the kitchen and make soup, of all things. He himself was still recovering from the last hour’s ordeal.

Nicky tutted disapprovingly. “Boss, get changed. Joe, you too. Why would you think it’s a good idea to get under an electric blanket in wet clothes?”

Andy grimaced, throwing her jacket and t-shirt on the floor and snuggling up to Quynh in just her bra. Quynh tugged Andy closer.

Nicky turned to Joe, raising an eyebrow. “Habibi?��

Joe pulled a face. “Do you have any sweatpants left for me?”

“Always.” Nicky ruffled Joe’s curls. “My gray university ones are in the dryer. They’ll still be warm if you hurry.”

Joe got up, returning two minutes later in the gray sweatpants and a black tank top he stole off of Andy’s dresser. He hastily dove back under Lykon’s heated blanket.

In the middle of the couch, swaddled in blankets and eating soup, Nile and Booker were looking much more alive. The color returned to their cheeks, intensifying as Nicky began to scold them.

“Booker, what the fuck were you thinking?” he demanded.

“I don’t know! You said to distract Nile, and she wanted to have a snowball fight. So I said yes!”

“Why didn’t you just go to the park?”

“I thought driving out to the mountain pass would buy you guys more time. It was a bad idea. I’m sorry.”

“You could have died, Book! Just because we’re immortal doesn’t mean we can play with our lives like that. Not to mention, you put Nile in danger!”

Quynh sat up, reaching for Nicky’s hands. She swiped her thumbs over his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Hey, lay off him, would you? They’ve had a tough night.”

“But what if-”

“No what-ifs, Nicky. It’s alright. They’re safe. Now put the rest of that soup down and come here.”

Nicky sighed in secret gratitude. This was not a night he wanted to be left to follow his thoughts. “Fine.”

He squeezed onto the futon between Quynh and Nile, accepting the blanket Andy threw over him. He wrapped his arms around Nile, who snuggled closer.

“Nicky?” she mumbled after a moment.

“Hmm?”

“If you’re not still angry, can I ask you a question?”

Nicky pulled back to look at her. “Sorellina, I’m so sorry. I was never angry at you. Nor at Booker, really. Just a bit worried.”

“Yeah,” Joe piped up from the other end of the couch. “He gets mean when he’s scared.”

“I am not mean,” Nicky insisted. “Nile, what was it you wanted to ask?”

“Why did Booker say you wanted him to distract me? Distract me from what?”

Lykon laughed. “Should we tell her, Nicky, or do we plan to try again tomorrow?”

“We lost the tree, so I think we should just tell her,” Joe voted sleepily.

“You just don’t want to carry another tree,” Booker accused.

“Easy for you to say!” Quynh jumped in. “Next time, I’ll distract her, and you can walk a mile in the snow with plastic pine needles in your face.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Andy said, lips twitching. “No more attempts. Jesus wasn’t actually born on this day, anyway. I was there.”

Nicky blinked at her, and then rapidly shook his head to clear it. He looked at Nile. “We were trying to surprise you with a Christmas party. Remember last Thursday, when you were telling us how your family celebrated it back home?”

“Yeah.”

“We wanted to recreate all the same traditions. We got a tree, and some ornaments, and stockings with your initials on it, and, uh…”

“Presents! And that Christmas music you like,” Joe added.

“Yes, and Nicky was going to make cookies shaped like reindeer,” Quynh said.

“Also,” Lykon pointed to a folded-up tripod in the corner, “we were going to take family photos in our sweaters and put them on postcards. Copley said we can’t send them to anyone, but we could still make some.”

Booker sighed. “Sorry I ruined it, Nile. I thought- wait, are you crying?!”

Nile sniffled, turning away from Booker to tuck her face under the blanket. “No.”

“Oh, honey,” Quynh cooed. We can still do it all tomorrow, if you want…”

“It’s not that,” Nile croaked. “It’s just- You guys did all that just to surprise me?”

“It’s nothing,” Nicky assured. “Well, it’s really nothing now, but even if everything had gone according to plan, it still wouldn’t have been any trouble. It’s your first Christmas with us, and we wanted it to be memorable.”

“You’re the best,” Nile said, voice choked with emotions. “All of you. And this is the best Christmas Eve ever. Thank you.”

“Hush,” Andy smirked. “In this house, we show gratitude by not dying unnecessarily.”

“Oh, that was all Booker’s fault,” Nile countered smoothly. “I would have been content with a snowball fight in the park.”

“Really loving the underside of this bus,” Booker muttered as the others laughed.

Over the next hour, the lighthearted conversation drifted into sleepy silence. By the time Nicky thought to ask who would turn off the lights, Joe was only half-pretending to be fast asleep.

#the old guard #joe x nicky #fanfiction #kavi writes #tog fanfic #fluff #hurt/comfort #found family #platonic cuddling #holiday season #lykon #nile freeman #andy #booker #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #quynh #yes quynh is alive as well!!

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ktheist · 3 years

Note

coworker!taehyung + question ideas #11 + “why are you following me?” :)

“why are you following me?”

pairings. coworker! next door neighbor!taehyung x reader ft. yeontan

words. 1.6k

genre. slice of life

kim taehyung and you didn’t start off on the right foot.

for one, his dog pooped on your left foot just as you were standing in front of your door. the urgent call from your company and intern you’re supervising being the cause of you not being able to step into your apartment. somewhere in the middle, you heard a bark and a ‘tannie, no!’ before something mushy touched your foot and stayed there even after you lifted it up and away from the ball of black and streaks of golden.

“i’m so sorry- he’s still under potty training,” taehyung’s adamant nature in apologizing eased the red that spread across your vision.

he offered to wash it off your 400$ heels but you’d refused, “it’s fine, these are old pairs, i was about to throw them away anyway.”

at the time, the relief that overlapped the guilt in his eyes was a kind of beauty that made your heart leap, “did you just move in?”

the apartment next to yours had been empty for a good few months now.

“yeah, last week,” he’d quickly tore one hand away from his dog and patted his palm down his jeans before offering it to you, “i’m taehyung.”

“____,” you’d shook his hand just before he was about to retract it upon further pondering, “and who’s this cutie?” you’d bent over slightly, offering your hand for a shake.

the pupper placed a paw on the tip of your fingers and barked, as though trying to answer you.

“oh, this is yeontan - tannie for short,” a small smile finally appeared on his lips though the lines in his forehead was still there.

shaking the pupper’s paw once, you smile, “tannie-yah, can i call you that?”

yeontan barked once, you’d like to think it was a delightful mark of a new formed friendship.

that was friday.

on saturday, you met him in the morning with the same pupper barking at you in greeting.

“you boys going on a morning walk?” you’d smiled.

“yeah,” taehyung nodded before his eyes went to the ground and up again, “how are your heels?”

“oh, those old things? they’re in the trash now,” you’d bent over to the pupper in taehyung’s hands, “tannie-yah, thanks for helping me get rid of them.”

the dog-poop heel sat next to your bathtub after you’d wiped it clean with a wet tissue before slaving over the work that needed your attention the most. your bathroom reeked of dog feces still.

yeeun called you crazy for not demanding a single cent out of taehyung, “handsomeness can only go so far!”

well, taehyung’s definitely went further than having to get you a pair of new christian louboutin’s.

on sunday, you’d left in the early morning to your company. you weren’t sure if the cute dog owner next door went for a walk that day.

but you knew he wasn’t on monday.

clad in a suit and tie, he’d appeared more mature than the oversized t shirt and wide pants. the time between waiting for the elevator and chatting as it went down was fleeting. you were glad you’d had the extra time to talk while waiting for the bus.

when it came, you’d hurriedly waved him goodbye and stepped in, not knowing that he would enter and waited a few feet away from you because it was packed and he couldn’t come any closer to continue your conversation. you were left with exchanging smiles with each other.

by the time the bus stopped at the juncture a few blocks away from your company, you’d narrowed your eyes at the man who got off with you. he was fixing his tie when your question made him look up with rounded eyes.

“why are you following me?”

perhaps it was the tugged in the corners of your lips that eased his shock - granted, no one would want to be misunderstood as a stalker.

“i’m going to work,” he announced.

you remembered yeeun mentioning something about a newbie - at that time, you were too preoccupied to inquire more about when this newbie was starting.

“don’t tell me it’s at luxean,” you quizzed.

“no way,” he’d looked at you like he was seeing a ghost.

and that was how you’d went from next door neighbors to coworkers hiding the fact that they were next door neighbors.

“they’ll make us work overtime together!” you’d sighed, “since it’s more ‘convenient’ for us to meet up and finish up work.”

taehyung only chuckled but agreed anyway.

and so it went, you’d become bus buddies and coworkers with secrets. then you’d become meal buddies, knocking on your door at 8 in the pm and offering spicy rice cakes because, “hey, i ordered an extra, did you have dinner yet?”

it was obvious that you didn’t. and it was obvious that he knew, “do you wanna come over and have dinner together? it’s been awhile since me and tan have visitors over.”

then one dinner became two and two became three, until it was almost as natural as breathing to ask the other what they want for dinner.

“ugh, i’ve been craving chicken lately,” you’d thrown your head back, vapor wafting on top of your coffee.

it was break time and taehyung found you munching on snacks at the resting area before he decided to join you.

“me too, i think the last time i had it was three weeks ago,” he sighed, patting his tummy.

“should we go get swicy chicken tonight?” you grinned.

taehyung looked at you with a tilt in his head and a playful smile.

then came a time when you couldn’t afford take-outs anymore, “if i opened my purse, i’m afraid a butterfly will fly out.”

“should we cook?” he suggested.

“oh hell no,” you’d shaken your head rapidly, as though trying to shake off the horrendous recollections of the last time you tried cooking, “unless you want me to burn the whole building down!”

“with your brain and my skills, what could go wrong?” was what he said.

the answer was a lot of things. from the pollocks catching on fire to the apartment smelling like a cremation place to the both of you giving up and settling with ramen.

“we tried,” you announced.

“we did,” taehyung echoed your sentiments, if not a tad bit dejected because he was the one that got you in on the idea when you’d initially proposed for having ramen every night until payday.

then it was back to slaving in front of your laptop for hours on end and taehyung knocking on your apartment door at 3 in the am because he texted you prior to that, asking if you had some coffee.

“how close are you to being done?” you’d asked, handing him three tins of mocha.

“not even half,” he huffed.

but then came an idea and your half-working brain blurted it out carelessly, “wanna come over and do it together? at least we can motivate each other out.”

there was no reason why you couldn’t do it separately in your own apartments and checked up on the other through text. but taehyung didn’t seem to think of that option, “sure.”

he’d found your dog-pooped heel when he went for the bathroom and you’d remembered only after he’d went in. neither of you said anything after he came back but when your workload got lighter and you’d got your paycheck, taehyung knocked on your door on a weekend while you were in your pj’s and bedhair pointing in every direction.

he was donned in his usual over sized shirt and wide pants with a beanie as an addition. you almost slammed the door in his face but he was smiling like he’d always smiled at you.

“happy paycheck day,” a bark echoed a second later from somewhere behind him.

“taehyung - you didn’t-” your jaw was on the floor and you’d looked at the paper bag with the initials of YSL overlapping each other like it was fire.

“i did, and i want to,” he looked over at the ball of jet black that was looking up at grinning up at you, “right, tannie?”

“tannie, you should’ve been the voice of reason!” you’d playfully chided but hugged the paper bag to your chest anyway, “thank you, taehyung.”

it was somewhere down the line that kim taehyung asked if you’d wanted to go for coffee - and you’d dumbly offered the ones stocked up in your fridge before he’d looked away hesitantly, hand scratching the back of his head.

by then, you’d recovered from your idiocy, “oh- you- mean, coffee, like that kind of coffee.”

“it’s okay if you-” he quickly says but you’re quicker, index finger on his lips, a smile tucked in the corners of your lips - till this very day, you wonder where you got that confidence.

“i would be delighted to grab some coffee with you.”

taehyung looked at you then like he looks at you now, like he can’t believe that you said yes to a coffee date with him. like he can’t believe you said yes to moving in with him to save up for your dream house. like he can’t believe you’re standing there, in a white dress, yeontan sitting as still as he can next to you after escorting you down the aisle.

you mouth ‘i love you’ to him before the pastor finishes off his question for you. and you turn to the aging man, grin turning into a schooled smile like you do when he sees you dealing with your clients.

but then you steal a glance at him and the smile falters into a grin for the briefest moment before you say, sincerely, madly, deeply.

“i do.”

note. hope yall enjoyed!

see drabble game! for how to request!

#bts scenarios #bts fic #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung scenarios #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung au #bts au #taehyung fluff #drabble game 1 #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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koutaroulogy · 3 years

Text

↳ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘Ū! 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒:

↳ OIKAWA TOORU: spacecore

"stargazer lillies, walks at the beach at two in the morning, promise rings, wishes under a falling star, vanilla chapstick, citrus-scented denim jackets, the milky way, starstruck eyes, looking for alien spaceships through bronze-rimmed telescopes, tender kisses, talking to the moon about you."

↳ SUGAWARA KOUSHI: light academia

"waking up to a lover's embrace, rose scented sheets, blueberry jam, sleepy kisses, vanilla latte art, matching acorn-patterned pajamas, worn out pair of vans, a dusty globe, the statue of venus, cupid, fluttering eyelashes, the thought of living like this for a long time."

↳ AKAASHI KEIJI and SHIRABU KENJIRO: dark academia

"museum visits, intertwining butter fingers and calloused hands together, singing in an abandoned cathedral, brown berets, initials plus initials carved into stone, russet colored carpets, the tale of orpheus and eurydice, vinyl records, edgar allan poe, hogwarts, loving someone so passionately that no words can describe how deeply you've fallen."

↳ KUROO TETSURO, TANAKA RYUŪNOSUKE, SUNA RINTARO, BOKUTO KOTARO and MIYA ATSUMU: grunge

yes, that's a lot because i can really see them in this aesthetic

"rough loving, tender care, kuromi, walking on the sidewalk hand in hand, chinese street fashion, starbucks, hot topic, ghost trend, tiktok dancing, lana del ray, matching beanies, neon signs, kissing in an empty tennis court, empty pizza boxes, having fun and living in the moment with that special someone."

↳ TENDO SATORI, MIYA OSAMU and TSUKISHIMA KEI: indiecore

"fried chicken, cherry blossom perfume, strawberry shortcake, dinosaur documentaries, pooh bear plush, lilac cardigans, chocolate popsicles, spotify playlist playing on random, onigiri and kimbap, seven-eleven runs at two in the morning, suncatchers glinting from the porch ceiling, listening to music, watching every moment in time pass with you."

↳ USHIJIMA, WAKATOSHI: bohemian/minimalist

"various plants and succulents, the tale of persephone, straddling legs, denim overalls, cowprints, dancing to jailhouse rock, green and earth colors, silly stickers stuck to the walls, volleyball reruns, meditating, early morning jogs, a german shepherd, quiet mornings, peaceful domestic living."

↳ SAWAMURA, DAICHI: vintage

"roman holiday, bucket hats, hawaiian button ups, peace signs, polaroid pictures hanging on fairylights, hands intertwined together, hipster vans, slow dancing in the dark, the naked gun movie marathons, hiking and being one with nature, cuddles in a laxy afternoon nap, being hopelessly devoted to you."

↳ KITA SHINSUKE: cottagecore:

"a picnic basket, anne of the green gables, audrey hepburn, fairy circles, a red-checkered blanket, meadow, clair de lune, ethereal, going up to the roof to watch the sun rise, making love on soft white sheets, phonograph playing nat king cole and elvis presley, forever stuck in this blissful reality with the one you love."

thank you so much for the 100 notes on the omega manager headcannons 🥺 this is for you <3

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu aesthetic #aesthetic #why the hell am i thinking about this shit at 3am #romance #love #cute #koutarology reserves #koutaroulogy sanctuary #koutaroulogy #♡ thea's sanctuary

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archadianskies · 3 years

Text

wingspan

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs Monday Day 1: Post-Apocalypse • Sacrifice; Hank Anderson/Rose Chapman TLOU AU

“Alice needs medicine.” It’s said in a whispered hush, paired with nervous glances over at the feverish child labouring in bed. “Her coughs are wet and her chest sounds congested.”

“Adam’s still about a week out from being able to drive back here,” Rose chews her lip, shaking her head.

“Doesn’t matter,” Hank shrugs, “I’ll make the exchange by myself.”

“No!” Her voice is stern, her gaze even moreso but she knows it won’t dissuade him. They both know this has to be done.

“Make the call. Luther can help me load up the truck and I’ll go.”

“Hank-” Kara, sweet Kara with anguish on her face weighing her down, wearier and wearier with a sick child already.

“I’ll get it done, for your little girl,” he pats her hand and there’s conflict mixed with her gratitude. “Luther will keep everyone safe here while I’m gone.”

They’re easing into winter and they all know if he doesn’t go now, there won’t be a chance later when the roads are covered in snow. Doesn’t mean Rose is any more comfortable with the plan, not when the world isn’t what it was and every single day they’re out here they know they’re all on a knife’s edge.

“The cold slows them down,” Hank tries to placate and she raises one brow and he drops that line and goes for another. “I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Rose says firmly and eases the beanie on his head. “North’s making the drop this time.”

“Doubly, extra triple careful then,” he mutters. North’s tempestuous at the best of times, so Hank knows there won’t be any casual banter or interesting snippets of news exchanged with the goods.

Usually Josh is the one he meets with, sometimes Simon, and on that one occasion which he still is half-convinced never happened- Markus himself turned up. Jericho is one of the largest communities flourishing in the aftermath and has a functioning hospital, and the Chapman farm has, well, fresh vegetables and poultry. It’s a good relationship in this hellscape, one that gives him hope for a future.

“Truck’s all loaded,” Luther thumps the hatch as Hank makes his way over. “If you leave now you’ll make it back before nightfall. I’ll keep an eye on the house, I promise.”

Hank claps his shoulder. “Thanks Luther, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” the man murmurs, his voice more like a deep rumble in that broad chest. “Thank you for doing this for us.”

“Hey, I’d do anything for her,” it’s the goddamn truth and he isn’t too proud to admit it. “I’d do anything for any of you.”

“Be safe,” Luther squeezes his arm. “It’s your turn to read to Alice tonight, remember?”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

He pulls out of the driveway, sparing Luther one last glance in the rearview mirror before it’s just him and the road and all the thoughts he tries so desperately to keep at bay. It’s been ten years since the outbreak, ten whole years since that cursed day he held Cole as his son bled out in his arms. It’s been nearly five years since Rose Chapman found him, half mad with grief and nearly feral with hunger yet too stubborn to die.

He doesn’t really remember the years between Cole’s death and him wandering onto the outskirts of Rose’s farm. She’d saved him, continues to save him day in and day out because he has a purpose here, he matters here, and there are people here he’d kill to protect.

Once the initial wave was over, once the violence cannibalised itself, people did what people do best- they come together, they rebuild, they reconcile, they strive forward. It doesn’t mean it’s completely safe, it doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing, but Hank can see a future now where he couldn’t see one before.

*~*

There’s three kids walking along the tree line; it’s a blink and miss situation, but he definitely didn’t miss it. Three kids, all alone, heading somewhere but nowhere close enough they’ll make it by nightfall. Ah shit. Hank pulls over and the kids are smart enough to dart for cover.

“You kids alright?” He takes out his gun and sweeps his gaze around, trying to spot any infected who might be lurking nearby.

“We’re alright!” One of them calls out.

“Shut up Connor!” One of them hushes the one named Connor.

“It’s only a couple of hours until sundown and there’s no camp you can reach safely on foot in time,” Hank approaches slowly, keeping his voice low. He sees them now, all three of them, skinny boys in ill fitting clothing with backpacks too big for them.

One of them has a bandaid stuck to an old crusted wound right in the middle of his forehead. The other has a bandage wrapped around his forearm, brown with age. And the last one is pointing a gun at him.

“We said we are alright.” The one holding a gun says icily. He can’t be more than ten, yet the look in his eyes says everything; the boy has been through things a ten year old shouldn’t have, but then the same could be said about most children in this hellscape.

“Two of you are hurt. I’m going to Jericho and-”

“Jericho?” The one named Connor perks up. “We’re going to Jericho!”

“Shut up Connor!” The other says exasperatedly, and Hank can see they’re identical twins with the only difference to be found in their expressions.

“I can take you there. Plenty of room in the truck.”

“What will it cost us?” The one with the gun demands, and Hank shakes his head.

“Nothin’. I just don’t want you boys out here all alone, especially once it gets dark and the temperature plummets,” he tries to reason with them, but can’t fault them for their caution.

“We managed to make camp just fine,” one of the twins says stubbornly but Hank can see it, can see that small hopeful expression he’s trying so desperately to mask.

“I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you can tonight. You just shouldn’t have to, that’s all,” he gestures at his truck. “This way’s pretty deserted but Jericho’s much safer and the truck’s much faster than going on foot. What do you say?”

“If you try something funny, Ronan will shoot you,” the stubborn twin threatens, and Hank nods.

“Alright.”

It’s a tight squeeze but three boys under ten are about the size of one grown man so it spares Hank the effort of rearranging the produce on the back. There’s a blanket Kara crocheted on one of the seats, and he tucks it over them and doesn’t miss the way they snuggle closer, huddling for warmth.

“Is Jericho nice? How long have you lived there?” Connor asks after a while.

“Jericho is very nice. It’s big and safe and there’s other kids in there too,” Hank explains, “but I don’t live there. I live on a farm down the other way, and we supply vegetables and chickens to them in exchange for meds and materials and shi- stuff.”

“You’re making an exchange now?” The one named Ronan asks quietly, the gun still held tightly in his hands now resting on his lap.

“Yeah, uh, Alice, a little girl about your age, she’s sick,” Hank spares them a glance. “Her cough’s getting pretty bad so we’re hoping to get some meds to help.”

“Maybe they’ll have something for me there?” Connor says so softly Hank barely hears him.

“Are you sick? What do you think you need? I’m sure they’ll have it there.”

“You’re not sick!” The other twin hisses, and Connor huffs stubbornly.

“That’s the problem Sean, and maybe that’s why I need help!”

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” Hank looks over at them and both boys click their jaws shut and refuse to meet his gaze.

“It’s fine,” Ronan says, the ice back in his tone. “We just need to get to Jericho.”

They spend the rest of the drive in silence, and Hank’s glad when the large gates loom up on the horizon. He doesn’t drive up to the main entrance, but takes a side road and stops the truck by a clearing where there’s another car waiting.

“Hey Hank,” the redhead greets with a lazy wave, leaning against the trunk.

“Hey North,” he nods respectfully as he kills the engine and hops out.

“Oh,” she blinks in surprise, “new survivors?”

“Yeah I picked ‘em up on the way,” Hank gestures over at them before busying himself with removing the tarp over the cargo. “They were headed this way so I thought I’d get ‘em here safely.”

“Doc will want to check them over,” North looks at the boys and Connor is the only one who offers a wave. “It’s just protocol of course.”

“They’ll need her help anyway- Sean has that wound on his forehead and Connor has the bandage on his arm,” Hank looks over his shoulder at the boys. “Blood looks old but it can’t hurt to give it a once over and a dressing change.”

“And the other one who looks ready to murder me?”

“That’s Ronan. He’s holding a gun.”

“Clever boy,” North smirks, coming around to the driver’s side and peeking in through the open door. “You boys want to come stay here with us, you have to get checked by the Doc first okay?”

“Okay,” they chorus obediently and Hank finds himself grinning helplessly.

“Got the meds and some honest to god wool yarn for Kara,” North informs him as she loads up a crate onto the back. “Otto farm about six hours away made the exchange and I kept a couple of skeins for her.”

“She’ll love that, thanks North,” he pats the crate happily. “And we all profit it from it, so…”

“It’s more an investment than a gift,” she grins before beckoning to the brothers. “Alright kiddos let’s go. Come in and grab a coffee Hank, while the guys unload the rest and refuel.”

“You’re a saint, thanks.”

*~*

Jericho is a nice place. It’s a really really nice place. It’s full of life and learning and healing. No matter how hard others try to take this place for themselves, no matter how much violence they try and inflict, the sheer resilience of its people keeps the place running. That, and well, having nearly an entire SWAT team complete with a Captain in residence can’t hurt.

Far better, kinder, saner team than the rabid FBI team led by Prickins from a few years back who tried to destroy Jericho and take it for themselves. The whole debacle saw over half of Jericho burned to the ground and dozens slaughtered.

It’s when he and Rose took in Kara and her family, because the sheer trauma was too much for Alice to process and she could never return. Adam stayed on as a nurse and found his calling. It feels like a lifetime ago too.

He takes his coffee over to the little clinic at the side entrance where newcomers are screened because he wants to make sure the boys are alright.

“This is a burn,” Adam frowns as he inspects the wound on Sean’s forehead. “How did you get this?”

The boy doesn’t answer, looking over nervously as doctor Anthea unwraps the bandage from Connor’s arm.

“Oh my god-”

“Fuck!” The expletive leaves his mouth before he can stop himself.

“It’s three weeks old we swear!” Connor cries, nursing his arm to his chest, tears in his eyes. “It’s three weeks old!”

Before Hank can comment any further he’s being slammed to the wall, North placing a gun under his jaw. “You brought a fucking kid with a bite into Jericho and expected to leave him here?!”

“I didn’t-”

“He didn’t know!” Ronan shouts, clenching his trembling hands into fists. “We didn’t tell him in case he left us behind!”

“He should’ve left you behind!” North growls.

“It’s old,” Anthea raises her voice. “The teeth indentations have healed over. This is new scar tissue right here.” She’s gently tracing the mark on Connor’s arm, the boy’s bottom lip trembling as tears spill down his cheeks.

“How the fuck is that possible?” North steps away and lowers her gun, too shocked to be angry now it seems. “Everyone who’s ever been bitten turns after eight hours at the most.”

“He must be immune, then,” Anthea smiles in disbelief as she smooths Connor’s hair away from his face. “You are one of a kind, Connor.”

“We keep him in holding overnight,” North declares, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just to be sure.”

“No, you keep us together!” Sean spits, fuming at the mere suggestion of separation.

“I don’t have time for that, I have to get back to Alice!” Hank argues and North cocks her brow.

“No one’s asking you to stay, Hank, you can go.”

“Bullshit! I’m not letting you lock up these kids outside of Jericho’s walls!”

“You can go, you got us to Jericho, you don’t need to do anything else!” Ronan adds and oh Hank can see it, Hank can see the fear of being left alone in those big grey eyes.

“I’ll go, I know the way,” Adam offers, holding his hand out for the keys. “It’s my home, after all. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’ll spend the night in holding, then,” Hank nods as he hands over the keys to the truck. “Tell Alice I’m sorry I’ll miss storytime.”

“You spend the night in holding,” North orders as takes his gun from the table and presses it back into his hand, “and you put him down yourself if he turns.”

“And then us too,” Ronan says in a voice so steady, so resigned for a child. “If you shoot him, you have to shoot us too.”

“It won’t come to that,” Hank says firmly.

“For everyone’s sake, I hope you’re right,” Anthea runs her fingers over the bite on Connor’s arm again before gently thumbing away his tears. “I guess we shall see in the morning, hm?”

The holding area must have been a security control room at some point. It’s now been caged by wire completely, with a chained and padlocked gate. He must be losing what little sanity he has left, but at least he’s not losing his compassion. No way in hell he’s about to abandon three boys to an uncertain fate, no matter how brave they’re trying to be.

“You could’ve gone back to the farm,” Ronan points out as Connor curls up on the lumpy mattress under the covers with his twin.

“Yeah I know,” Hank shrugs, nursing his coffee mug. Simon had left them with provisions to last the night, including a large thermos of coffee because he’s an angel in this apocalyptic hellscape.

“What if we’re lying and Connor turns and kills you?” Sean demands, though it’s not so effective given Connor’s clinging to him tiredly.

“Then I’d die,” Hank offers them the soup thermos. “Alice is still getting her medicine tonight, so that’s perfectly fine.”

“Don’t you have family at the farm?” Ronan accepts the thermos and pours out a cupful, handing it straight to Connor.

“Losing me won’t be that big a loss for them.”

“That’s a lie! Everyone has someone who’d miss them!” Connor shouts, nearly spilling the soup in his outburst. Hank admits defeat there. Rose would miss him, he thinks, because she’s all heart and soul.

She took him in when he was a husk of a man and together with Adam they toiled and tilled the land, took in every broken survivor and sent them on their way to Jericho with a full belly and provisions to spare. And Hank shot anyone who ever dared to raise their hand against Rose because people like that, greedy fuckers who want to take and take, have no place in this new world.

“What happened to you boys out there? What happened three weeks ago?” It’s The Question and no one seems to want to answer it.

“We wanted to go to the stream to see the fish,” Ronan eventually starts quietly. “We snuck out because Amanda didn’t give her permission.”

“It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have insisted,” Connor stares into the soup as if it could offer comfort. “I just really wanted to see them.”

“We didn’t see the infected one until it was too late and it bit Connor,” Ronan reaches over to hold his hand. “We tried to hide it but it was bleeding a lot and Amanda heard us in the bathroom getting the first aid kit.”

There’s a pause and Hank realises Sean hasn’t said a single word, resolutely avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“She dragged Connor out the back and-” Ronan falters, pressing his lips into a tight line as he darts a look at Sean. “She gave Sean a gun and told him to shoot Connor as punishment for sneaking out.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hank swears, recoiling in horror and it makes sense now; the small burn mark on his forehead is from the shell casing hitting him.

“She made you do it, Sean, I don’t hate you!”

“Well you should!” Sean yells. “You should because I pulled the trigger!”

“She made you do it!” His twin insists, squeezing his hand. “She made you and if you didn’t she would’ve killed you!”

“So I killed her,” Ronan says evenly, as if he’s simply stating the sky is indeed blue. “I took the gun from Sean after he missed, and I shot her in the chest and after she fell over I shot her in the head.” Ronan looks at him defiantly. “So we’re fine. We can look after ourselves, you don’t have to care about us.”

Hank slowly sinks to his knees, taking the cup of soup from Connor and setting it aside before gently gathering the boy into his arms and reaching for the other two. He’s a big guy, he has enough wingspan for all three, and he enfolds them in as tight a hug as he can manage and that’s it, that’s what sends the last of their defences tumbling down. They cry loudly, the trauma of it all finally being given a proper outlet and he holds them and he vows to himself that he’s never letting them go. There will be no more Amandas in their life, not now, not ever again.

“Takes us with you,” Connor sobs. “Don’t leave us here.”

“We’re leaving once Adam gets back. All of us,” Hank promises. “I’m never letting you out of my sight.”

He’s used to watching the dawn, used to getting up this early now to feed the chickens and collect the eggs. He’s even used to waking up with a child still fast asleep on him, now that Alice treats him like a grandfather. There’s something different about this moment, though, with all three boys snuggled against him.

There’s something hopeful about this because it’s eight hours later and he’s still whole and alive and unbitten. And that means Connor is indeed immune. With Sean being an identical twin, that means he too could carry the natural immunity. The hope of the entire world, fast asleep in his arms. It’s a beautiful sentiment.

“Good morning Hank,” greets a voice at the gate and there’s Mister Markus Manfred himself; Jericho’s saviour and leader. “It’s good to see you.”

“Is Adam here yet?”

“Not yet,” the man shakes his head. “But Simon made breakfast for you and the boys. They’ll have a room near the creche with the other children, and we can get them settled in afterward.”

“We’ll have breakfast, and then as soon as Adam gets back, we’re heading for the farm,” he meets Markus’ gaze steadily. “They’re not staying.”

“Hank, Dr Anthea told me Connor is immune. That means we could work towards developing a vaccine.”

“You still can,” he shrugs as best he can with three sleeping kids piled on him. “We can make the trip every weekend. But these boys are coming home with me.”

Markus looks at him, scrutinising him, and Hank can see both the leader and the saviour at work, weighing up the pros and cons and trying to find the common ground for the greater good. Hank would never want to be in his shoes, no sir, no thank you.

“Breakfast, then?” Markus smiles one of his charming presidential smiles as he unlocks the gate and gestures towards the entrance. “Simon made pancakes and we cut up some of the strawberries you brought over from the farm.”

“Pancakes?” Connor stirs sleepily, rubbing his eyes and there it is, there’s the bite on his arm, three weeks and one day older.

“Yeah kiddo, pancakes for breakfast before we head home.”

“Home,” Ronan echoes with a soft smile.

“We’ll be good, we’ll help out on the farm and work extra hard,” Sean whispers nervously, and Hank runs a hand through his sleep-tousled hair.

“I know you will.”

Connor and Sean Dechart are ten years old- very nearly almost eleven, Connor points out. Ronan Dechart turned nine two weeks ago, a birthday forgotten entirely in the struggle to survive so Hank makes note to bake a cake. Their parents had died in the initial outbreak, and Professor Amanda Stern had taken them in after finding them hiding at the nearby university where she taught. The story unfolds on the drive back to the farm and the more he learns about their time with Amanda the more he’s glad Ronan shot her and shot her again.

Luther greets them on the driveway, Alice bundled up in a thick down jacket and blanket sitting on his arm. She waves enthusiastically, cheeks rosy and smile bright and Hank feels his heart squeeze in his chest at the sight. Rose is standing on the porch and she’s giving him A Look and he wants to say sorry reflexively but he’s not actually sorry for anything.

Alice takes Connor’s hand and drags him inside, the boys trailing, and she announces loudly that she’s giving them the grand tour. Luther claps him on the shoulder before following Alice.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Rose sighs heavily as she pours him a generous mug of freshly brewed coffee. Her tone is reprimanding, but there’s something fond in her eyes as they take a seat at the dining table.

“I couldn’t leave them,” he shakes his head. “Not out there on their own, and not even at Jericho. Not after all the shit they’ve been through.”

“Because you’re a parent, Hank,” she says it so softly, so gently and his breath hitches in his throat. “You’re a father. It’s just what you do. It’s just who you are.”

“They’ve been through hell, and they deserve better. They deserve a second chance.” His vision blurs as he raises his head and looks at you. “You taught me that.”

“I did, and now you’re teaching them that,” Rose is smiling, a big radiant smile and he can’t help but lean over to kiss that beautiful smile. As far as second chances go, he reckons this is about as perfect as it gets.

#Hank Anderson #rose chapman #connor rk800 #rk800 60 #rk900 #Detroit: Become Human #detroit become dad #dbhrarepairsweek #tlou au #annie writes: dbh

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just-another-ficwriter · 4 years

Text

The Food Critic

Pairing: Chef!Betty x Food Critic!Jughead

Words: 1100ish

Warnings: None

Summary: When Cheryl breaks the news that a food critic is coming to review the restaurant, the gang mistakes Forsyth Pendleton Jones lll for someone else.

Notes: Filling the chef/food critique square on my @riverdalebingo card.

Betty can’t seem to focus on what the others are saying.

It’s not that she’s not listening, she just doesn’t want to hear what they’re talking about.

Instead her mind wonders to the kitchen, pondering over what ingredients she has tucked away, wondering if she can make something new for today’s specials board.

“Are you sure he’s coming tonight?” Toni nervously glances around the room before her eyes land on Cheryl.

Maybe she could make pasta with lamb ragu or is that to similar to the pasta dish they had last week?

Even the red head, whose usually fazed by nothing, is frowning slightly as she nods. “I know it’s not a lot of notice-“

“I knew it was somewhere!” Veronica, who had been rummaging through her bag since Cheryl had broken the news, pulled out a small glossy magazine named the Blue and Gold, and began viscously swiping through the pages.

What about green matcha chicken curry? Maybe she has time to pick up some fresh coriander if she slips away now.

“I’ve got it.” Veronica spreads the magazine on the desk in-front of them, a perfectly manicured finger jabbing at the column as both her and Toni crowd behind Cheryl to read it, Betty still in a world of her own. “It’s him, Forsyth Pendleton Jones lll.”

Toni, who still can’t get over the name, find herself gasping down at the page. “There’s no picture!”

“I know.” Veronica grimaces. Originally she’d thought the whole thing was genius, an anonymous food critic that the restaurant owners wouldn’t see coming. Only now that it was their restaurant, the idea had quickly become nauseating.

“You’ve got this though, right Bee?” Betty immediately looks up to find all three pairs of eyes staring back at her.

“I do?” The blonde’s brain finally speeds up, processing the last few minutes as she realises, as the head chef, a large part of tonight’s responsibilities fall solely on her. “I do!”

She nods her head a little too quickly, hoping the others wouldn’t notice.

Maybe she will go with the lamb ragu after all.

Betty certainly did not have this.

They’d been surprisingly busy for a Monday night leaving her rushed off her feet, she’d over cooked the lamb for her ragu, and they still had absolutely no idea who the critic was.

And if all that wasn’t bad enough, Toni had been spending as much time as she could in the kitchen, biting at her nails as she peered through the small window on the door, tipping Betty’s nerves over the edge.

“I think that’s him.” She’d uttered the words four other occasions so far that evening but there was something in Toni’s eyes now that had Betty believing it this time.

Enough to have her joining her friend in her lurking anyway.

She watches as Veronica seats the man in question, the most charming of smiles plastered on her face. He certainly looks like a Forsyth, Betty thinks.

A middle aged man, dressed in a fancy suit, dining alone. If that didn’t scream food critic then she didn’t know what did.

After getting over the initial relief that he hadn’t ordered the special, Betty prepared his dish of roasted sea bass with easy, before handing over the kitchen to her sous chef so she could slip behind the bar and gage his reaction with her own eyes.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself, cautiously watching him take every bite.

“You know it’s rude to stare right?” As he speaks up, Betty suddenly realises she isn’t alone. A few feet away from her, on the other side of the bar, a blue eyed beanie clad customer grins at her, the house burger held between his hands.

“Oh no, I was just...” She trails off, her eyes drifting across the room again until he chuckles at her lack of attention. The sound makes her cheeks flush. “I’m so sorry, that was rude of me. How’s your dinner?” She offers, gesturing at his plate. He takes a bite, and she can’t help but notice the one dark lock of hair peaking out from beneath his hat.

“Delicious!” He beams, swallowing down the mouthful. “So what’s the deal with guy in the suit?”

Betty doesn’t know why, but she finds herself explaining the whole nerve wracking situation to the stranger. “And I just really want him to like my food, we’re really worked hard on this place you know?”

Betty blinks, suddenly realising she’s rambling, a nervous habit she’s always had. But he doesn’t seem to mind. “Well if his food is anything like mine, I’m sure he’ll love it.”

She feels her heart rate quicken from his praise, a warmth spreading over her chest. “How about dessert on the house?” She asks, his eyebrow quirking in surprise. “To make up for having to listen to me going on.”

His face lights up at the idea. “Dessert sounds great.”

“Cherry pie or apple crumble?”

Her eyes follow the trail his tongue takes over his bottom lip as he weighs up the opportunities. “Surprise me.”

“Very well.” She laughs at his light hearted teasing, retreating back to the kitchen. “I’m Betty by the way, welcome to La Bonne Nuit.”

For a second Betty forgets about the food critic as he smiles at her with such warmth it knocks her off balance. “Jughead, it’s nice to meet you Betty.”

It only takes two days for their own copy of the magazine to slip through the door, an envelope with Betty’s name scribbled in neat hand writing attached to the front.

While the others fawn over the column, desperate to read what it says, Betty’s interest fixes on the letter.

Dear Betty,

I told you, you had nothing to worry about. Trust me, I’ve eaten plenty of burgers in my time and yours was one of the best. Not to mention the slice of cherry pie that definitely worked in your favour.

I hope you enjoy the article.

Forsyth Pendleton Jones lll (aka Jughead).

P.S. I hope you don’t mind, I’ve written my number on the back. Maybe I could take you for some food that you didn’t have to cook sometime?

“Betts don’t you want to read it?” The blonde is already shaking her head before Toni finishes the question.

She doesn’t need to see it to know it’s probably a great review.

“Maybe later.” A lightness takes root in his chest as she pulls out her phone and she sure nothing could stop her from smiling as she types in his number.

I’m free for dinner this evening if you are?:)

Riverdale Winter Bingo Masterlist

Forever Taglist: @p-marie-sp

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bigboomboi · 4 years

Text

A gift Worth Thousands

Words: 3,297

Warning: Cursing and that’s about it, nothing but fluff here

Happy Birthday Bakugo Katsuki!

As soon as Bakugo woke up, he knew what day it was. The thought irritated him to no end, because for some reason people always thought to make a big deal out of it. It was just a stupid day, like every other stupid day. There was no need for the dumb, annoyingly loud singing or several random people running up to say it all day… or the bountiful amount of gifts he never actually got.

Yeah. None of that ever happened. Not for him anyway.

In all his years 1-A tried to celebrate his birthday once their first year and out of embarrassment-disguised as irritance he blew up the cake. Now, no one actually does anything for his birthday. He'll get the occasional birthday frame on snapchat from all his streaks. But that'll be it. Well, that and the birthday text from his parents. But, nothing more.

So, he thinks, until he opens his door.

"What the fuck?" A small box sat on the floor. If it hadn't been for the bright polka dotted wrapping paper he wouldn't have seen it.

He picked it up and shook it gently, like it was going to tell him what was in it. A low thunking echoed from inside it and in his piqued interest he ripped the lid off, ungracefully.

'Happy Birthday, Bakugo!'- A simple kind of note, typed so he wouldn't know the handwriting.

Under the note sat a small ceramic bomb-omb. Nothing more to it, nothing less. Just a-kind of- adorable paperweight.

He rolled his eyes at the gift, and looked over everything to find the gifter, but found nothing. What kind of idiot doesn't put their name on a gift?

"Whatever, thanks whoever." He grumbled turning back into his room to set the paperweight on his desk before rushing off to start his early morning training.

During his workout, he managed to forget about the gift he got, and almost about his birthday altogether. All the way up until he was greeted by two gift boxes in front of his door, these bigger than the last he got. He scooped the two boxes up, once again not finding any indication of the senders.

Bakugo opened the longer box of the two, his eyebrows furrowing at the two black, and orange wooden sticks carefully placed, crossing each other. Looking closer at them, he found that they were custom made drumsticks. They both had his name elegantly carved into the base, small explosion drawings on either side of his name.

He looked at the note left on the bottom of the box ‘I know you broke your last set… and the others, so these are made out of Hickory, a bit heavier than the Maple ones the school gives but sturdier. Happy Birthday!’ Once again, no name.

He pulled open the next gift, the simple note on top short and sweet. ‘I thought you’d like this one, Happy Birthday :)’ It was a pro switch controller, in his hero colours, his initials detailed onto the left bottom side of the controller. Another thing inside the box was a dock, also detailed for him. Explosions covered it, and his common saying of ‘Die Extras’ slanted on the front side. He flipped it over to find the back was decorated with his name.

Bakugo covered his face and scoffed, realizing he was smiling at the gifts he’d received. He grumbled, irritated that he didn’t know who left him his presents. He hadn’t even the slightest clue. At the same time… he didn’t want to ask and make it seem like he cared.

So he didn’t.

He stomped his way down stairs, running into the rest of his class. Literally, with neither watching where they were going, Bakugo and Y/N collided harshly. Squeaking, Y/N slipped and almost fell, but thankfully Bakugo’s arm secured her to his chest before she could go down.

“Oh, hi, Bakugo! Thank you!” Y/N L/N. Eighteen years old, rank fifth in the class. Quirk; Glass creation. She could create glass from her body, much like Momo. She was kind, smart, quiet. Easy to work with in teams.

Actually, she was really cute when he gave her a real once over.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Watch where you’re going, dumbass.” He grumbled, letting her stand up straight.

“I think that’s a two-way road, Bakugo.” She teased, softly.

Bakugo scoffed, pushing past her, knocking her shoulder, albeit softer than he would anyone else, but still. “Whatever.”

“Oh, Bakugo!” She called before he got too far. “Happy birthday!”

Despite the scowl on his lips, his heart smiled, beating a bit faster. Before the flush on his face could expose him, he waved her off and walked off.

Now, as he stepped into homeroom, he was less annoyed to find another gift wrapped box. This time it sat on his desk and it was flat and maybe just bigger than his hand. He furrowed his eyebrows, he clearly wasn’t the first one in the classroom as other students had already sat in their seats talking or scrolling through their phone.

Bakugo looked around, discreetly, to see if anyone was watching him expectantly, but no one was. He huffed, and gently untied the ribbon and pulled the lid off. ‘Yes, you can wear it inside. Iida shouldn’t bother you about it, Happy Birthday!’ His lip twitched up into a smile, this time the note was handwritten. It was pretty and small, definitely not Kaminari or Kirishima.

Under the note sat a black beanie, an orange explosion was embroidered on the folded lip with ‘Ground Zero’ decorated through the middle of it. By the looks of it, it looked like it was hand sewn, at least from the slight offness of the letters, but it was still well put together. He lifted it to put it on, but paused and looked over to Iida. It only took a moment for Bakugo to catch his eye and Iida simply nodded and went back to his conversation.

Bakugo smirked, they really did talk to Iida about it. Who the hell would go through the trouble to make sure he wouldn’t get bitched at? For some reason, his eyes flickered over to her. Maybe it was because she just stepped into the classroom, or because he kind of wanted the gifter to be her. The world would never know.

He slid the beanie over his hair, watching Y/N just barely make it to her seat before the bell rang. Unable to help himself, he listened into her conversation with Tsu, maybe secretly hoping it was about him. “You were almost late, ribbit.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t get it to fit in my locker.” Y/N whispered, a pout evident in her voice. “This is hard.”

“You’re the one who chose to do it this way. There were much easier ways to go about it, ribbit.” Tsu teased.

“Yeah, yeah. But I’m a pussy, so there’s that.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Hey, Baku-Bro. Nice beanie!” Kirishima suddenly dragged Bakugo out of the girl’s conversation.

“Thanks, Shitty Hair. Birthday present.” Bakugo grunted, watching his expression, just in case it was him who gifted him the hat.

“That’s awesome, who gave it to you?” Kirishima’s eyes lit up at the idea of his friend getting a gift.

“Dunno. No name on the box.” He answered, ruling out his best friend. “They just let a note.”

Bakugo handed over the note, not noticing the eyes of a certain someone following his movement. Kirishima looked over it, eyebrows furrowing. He knew the handwriting, he’d seen it somewhere. But where? Then it clicked for him.

Glancing up at Bakugo, who stared out the window, he let his eye shift over to the glass maker. She turned red instantly, knowing she’d been caught. Her eyes widened in panic as Kirishima began speaking again.

“Well, the handwriting is way to nice to be us.” He pointed out, referring to the boys of the Bakusquad. “Mina slants her writing a bit, too. So I don’t think it’s from her. Why don’t you ask Iida, they obviously talked to him, so he should know.”

Kirishima could almost swear he could feel Y/N’s heart beating from his seat. Bakugo grunted and rolled his eyes. “I don’t care, enough. If they want to hide, they can hide.”

That was a lie, but Y/N didn’t know that. All she knew was that she was safe from the embarrassment of him knowing. She glared at Kirishima as he grinned at her and had half the mind to throw her note book at him, but that would cause issues, so she settled for flipping him off.

All she had to do was make it through the rest of the day and she could go back to silently pining. This secret admirer gifting thing was stressful.

Making it to lunch, Bakugo hadn’t gotten anymore gifts. Which was a bit annoying, but he didn’t dwell on it too much. Or tried to. He expected another gift or two, but nothing, so guessed they were done.

But Uraraka stopping him before he could go buy lunch, changed that thought. “Here you go, Bakugo! Happy Birthday!” She passed him an adorably wrapped bento box.

“Pink cheeks? You’re the one leaving me presents?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, no.” She waved her hands, trying to shoo away the idea. “I’m just the messenger!”

Was it bad that that cleared away his sudden disappointment? “Who the fuck is it then?”

Uraraka grinned. “I am not allowed to disclose that information.”

“I’ll buy you cookies if you tell me.” He tried.

“Nope, she gave me ten boxes of Pockey to swear secrecy.” She beamed before slapping her hands over her mouth.

“She?” Bakugo smirked. “You might as well tell me her name, now.”

Uraraka shook her head and he sighed. “Whatever, tell her I said thanks at least.”

“Enjoy!” She smiled, before running off.

Bakugo rolled his eyes and stalked off to his table and sat down, briefly noting Mina wasn’t around. He looked around to find her sitting with the other girls of 1-A, and they all stared him down. With them all watching, it was hard to tell which one gave him lunch. He looked away from them to open his lunch.

It was charbroiled chicken with a side of cucumber, crab sticks, macaroni salad, and white rice. He could immediately smell the spice wafting off the chicken, they really put work into it.

“Woah, that looks really good, Bakugo!” Denki complimented, already salivating.

Bakugo quickly raised a threatening fist, as he looked over the note in the lid. “Touch it and I’ll blow you up.”

‘Spicy chicken for the Spicy Explosion Boy? Happy Birthday!’ This one also was handwritten.

“Don’t take it personal, he’s just protective over his birthday gifts.” Kirishima teased. “From the secret gifter.”

“Oh, a mysterious sender on your birthday? Do they know you hate celebrating your birthday, or?” Sero commented, laughing.

“I don’t know.” Bakugo grumbled, taking a bite of his lunch. “And I don’t hate it.”

“You figure out who’s leaving them?” Kirishima asked.

“They’re a she. Pink cheeks gave me the box and said she bribed her into silence.” Bakugo answered.

“So a girl. That’s not Uraraka.” Sero piped. “Momo?”

“I don’t think she likes Bakugo enough to put this much energy into his birthday. Plus, her handwriting is too different from this girl’s.” Kirishima offered.

“Mina?” Denki tried.

“Doubt it, she would give these gifts to him herself. Also she can’t wrap presents for shit. Remember Christmas?” Kirishima said, munching on his own lunch.

“Jirou? I got drumsticks this morning.” Bakugo admitted, although he knew it wasn’t her.

“Nah, pretty sure she’d drown you if she got the chance. Not make you lunch.” Kirishima shrugged, absentmindedly looking at the girls who had moved onto their own devices. “Maybe it’s Y/N. She always gives people a bunch of birthday presents. Tsu got like twenty on her birthday.”

“I don’t talk to Y/N.” Bakugo hurriedly pushed the idea away.

“You barely talk to any of them, dude.” Denki reminded, laughing. “So it could be Y/N.”

Bakugo grunted, ignoring the comment, trying to feign indifference, but he subtly turned his gaze into the giggling girls, zoning in on the one in question. He did sort of want it to be her leaving him gifts.

He toyed with the thought for the rest of lunch, her going through all the work to get him gifts, wrapping them and giving him notes? The idea brought a light feeling to his chest. But was it a plausible thought?

Would Y/N really waste the time on an asshole like him?

Probably not, he decided, pushing the thought to the back of his mind.

Later on, gathered in the living room some of the 1-A students tried to work through their homework while the others idly played on their phones. Bakugo sat staring at his textbook, working through who his gifter was, but he couldn’t get past the want for it be Y/N. So really, he was just thinking about her for the last two hours.

“Guys, I made cupcakes!” Speak of the devil. Y/N set out cutely iced, chocolate cupcakes with basic white icing, nothing too special.

Reaching to grab one, Bakugo’s hand was intercepted, by different cupcake “Wait! This one’s for you.” She handed him an orange iced cupcake with a small candle in the middle. “A birthday cupcake!”

A birthday cupcake? He blinked at it and then up at her. He hadn’t had any sort of cake since the one he exploded. Thankfully, everyone else was too caught up in snagging a regular cupcake for themselves to noticed how dumbstruck he was.

“Uh, sorry about the plate, I thought it was a cute idea at the time, but then I realized what the heck are you going to use it for after this.” He looked down to look at his plating. It was a small tea plate, shaped as an explosion. “So, you don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, you can even toss it out the window right now if you want to, I-.”

“Thank you, for the cupcake and the plate. I think I’ll keep it.” He cut her rambling off.

“You’re, um, you’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” Bakugo felt prideful, knowing that the soft smile she presented was for him.

There was that stupid hopeful thought again. Maybe he could just ask her, would she tell the truth? How disappointed would he be if it turned out not to be her? Too disappointed, but still he opened his mouth to ask anyway.

“Did-?” He started only get interrupted by Denki.

“Hey, wanna play your new game a bit before we go to bed?” Denki asked through a mouthful of cake. Yeah, he received another present in his last class; the new Mario Party game.

“Pikachu, don’t talk with your mouth full, fucking gross.” Bakugo snapped. “And no, not if you didn’t finish your homework!”

“But I did!” Denki waved his worksheet around. “See!”

Bakugo snatched the paper from the kid and looked over it, he dully noted that Y/N and retreated away. But his courage to ask her was faded now, so it didn’t matter anyway. What did matter; “Number nine is wrong. Correct it while I go grab my controller.”

He handed the paper back and stomped up to his room. While, this birthday had been better than the last several, he somehow still ended up dissatisfied at the end of the day. He’d gotten a crap ton of gifts and yet he hadn’t gotten the one thing he just realized he actually wanted.

Fucking stupid.

“Bakugo?” A voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Y/N. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking about shit.” He shrugged.

“Well, don’t think about things that’ll make you upset it’s your birthday!” She tried, cheerfully.

He scoffed. “Yeah, that’s the shit I’m thinking about.”

Y/N furrowed her brows at the statement. “Did you not like your presents?”

“No, I do. I guess. I just didn’t get the one I really wanted.” He huffed, vaguely.

He missed the slightly saddened look she eyed him with before her next sentence. “Well, hopefully you’ll like the next one!”

With that she skipped past him, leaving him to continue his trek to his room. Unless, the next gift she left him was Y/N herself, it wouldn’t make him feel better. And looking at the relatively large box left at his door, it wasn’t Y/N.

Still, he picked it up, surprised by the weight it held. He set the box on his chair and briefly read the note ribboned to the top advising him that it was fragile. Intrigued he pulled the top off and grabbed the note from inside.

‘Sorry, this is the last one I promise! I put a lot into this one, I hope you like it. Happy Birthday, I hope it was a good one.’ Sadly, this one was typed out. He liked her handwriting better.

Under the note, surrounded by a mass amount of tissue paper was a thick rectangle of glass, in what looked like a picture frame. Pulling it out completely, he found it had a cord attached. Confused, he set the glass on his desk and plugged it in.

Suddenly the glass came to life, a bright light shining up from the bottom illuminating the picture in the middle. A picture of him, actually. He was posed leaping forwards, his right hand raised and an explosion began to form. At the top of the glass words were etched ‘Ground Zero’ and then below his pictured body ‘#1 Hero’.

“Damn right, I am.” It was like one of the 3D picture crystals you saw at the mall, but bigger. “Wish I knew who you were.”

He clicked off the lights and grabbed his controller. Starting out of the room, he looked down at his controller. It took a few steps for a thought to blossom. Tsu and Uraraka had custom controller, both birthday presents, from one person. The same person who vowed to get everyone their own controller eventually. The same person who would give a person a hundred gifts if she could. The same person who literally had a quirk to create his latest gift in her bedroom…

The same person he’d been thinking about all fucking day.

“Son of a bitch.” Bakugo rushed down the stairs, practically running back to the living room, hoping she hadn’t gone to hang out in one of the girls’s rooms.

“There you are, Bakugo, thought you had ditched us.” Kirishima started to joke, but he was ignored as his friend zeroed in on Y/N who had set down a bowl of chips on the table.

She yelped as Bakugo snagged her wrist, spinning her around. “Bakugo, what ar-?”

“The last one was great, really. But still not what I want.” He declared.

Her face burned, she was caught. But she didn’t feel like he was going to kill her, so she took a chance. “Wh-what do you want?”

He grinned and leaned forwards, pressing his lips to hers. They didn’t hear the class gasp and cheer around them. They fell into their own world of each other, only returning to reality when air was needed. The moment lasted though, their eyes still locked, foreheads sweetly pressed together.

“Oh, here!” Y/N stepped away grabbing something off the table. One of the stick bows that was attached to a present box he left on the table, she turned back to him as she stuck it to her shirt. “Happy birthday!”

Bakugo laughed and pulled her back to his chest, kissing her forehead. “Yeah, happy birthday to me.”

#katsuki bakugo #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #happy birthday bakugou #bakugo birthday #this too way longer than it should have #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki imagine

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zayphyr · 5 years

Text

pocket!ateez

🌸 hongjoong // 김홍중

• the softest, tiniest bAby

• going shopping with you is his favourite!

• picking outfits for you to try on while he judges + getting ice cream later

• also loves wearing matching tees,

• mostly at home, which is basically him making tiny ones out of your massive old tees

• tried tie-dying them once,,

• ended up looking like a smurf

• help him out pLS

• lowkey gets lost in your oversized sweaters and hoodies till you gotta rescue him

• loveees doing your nails!

• and in return, you paint his too

• with the smallest paintbrush you can find around the house

• "what did the toast say to the psychic??"

• "joong-" "you bREAD my mind!"

• composes lil songs for you to listen to in every mood

• when you're excited, when you're tired after a long day, when you don't feel good enough

• he's got tunes and lots of cuddles to get you through anything

• the most uwu baby ever, always looking out for youu

🌸 seonghwa // 박성화

• a whole soft dork!!

• wakes you up in the mornings by calling into your ears

• mostly just sings baby shark into your ears out of tune

• morning walks to the park with him peeking out of your pocket

• needs his daily dose of sunshine while you already have yours in your pocket :)

• learns the choreography to your favourite songs while waiting for you to come home after work/school/uni

• you know his lil bleps? yeah, only tinier and more precious :")

• does it when he's bored/watching you do do stuff

• always helps you clean up the house

• cleans up food bits from the table once you're both done eating

• tries cleaning your work desk with a piece of cloth

• tiny bby gets super tired out

• pls make him some lemonade to reward his hard work!

• tries to pull out chairs for you like in the movies

• realises after multiple attempts that he can'T

• is terrified of dogs, especially pugs

• always just watches from the safety of your pocket

• tucks you in with goodnight kisses :((

🌸 yunho // 정윤호

• smol tol noodle part 1

• your everyday vitamin, literally never out of energy

• encourages you to exercise

• "you're doing great! just 2 more!!"

• absolutely fascinated by candles

• nearly fell straight into one trying to smell it

• but thankfully, you caught him in time

• always just admired them from afar since then

• does face masks with you!

• with him applying it on your cheeks

• while you put a lil on his cheeks with your pinky

• gummy bears are his favourite

• a colourful, squishy aND edible teddy?? sign him uP

• loVES playing with your hair and doing tiny braids

• all he has to do is *smile* and you'll end up sharing your food with him

• though he has his own plate of the exact same thing

• "yours somehow always tastes better"

• teaches you the choreo to your favourite songs

• is terrified of roaches

• you gotta rescue the lil bean

• says he hAs to sleep on a pillow beside you bc it was too scary

🌸 yeosang // 강여상

• super shy lil being

• prefers staying home with you over going out

• your no.1 taste tester

• "noooo, this is way too salty"

• reads books with you!

• he'll be comfortably settled in the crook of your neck

• tugs on a lock of your hair if you turn the page too fast

• has all the sweet candy and feeds you the sour ones

• is a total smol savage

• will obliterate anybody that says anything hurtful to you

• he's too shy though so he'll just whisper angrily from your pocket

• making you immediately feel better

• sleeps eVERYWHERE

• in your beanies, hoodie or coat pockets, your headphones, teacups- everywhere

• watch out before you use the microwave

• slept in there once during winter

• is terrified of chickens

• though he loves fried chicken

• loves hearing all about your day!

• knows all your friends, the people that annoy you, that pup you always pet on your way home

• "linda needs to take a chill pill"

🌸 san // 최산

• needy tiny baby!

• loVES when you ruffle his hair

• literally melts into a puddle whenever you show him love

• you shoot him finger hearts

• and he dramatically clutches his heart and collapses

• plays match-3 games on your phone

• walks over to reach the far away matches bc he's too tinY

• tried to help you blow small balloons one day

• got stuck in one somehow??

• watching horror movies together

• initially, he tries to make jokes about the main characters

• eventually ends up hiding in the crook of your neck or behind your hair

• occasional tiny screams

• "I was just,, surprised!"

• heLLA jealous for someone so tiny

• tries to fITE any mini figurines of comic book heroes you have

• "I'm the only tiny hero they need!!!"

• tells the lamEST jokes to crack you up somehow

• cuddles your finger when he's extra deprived of your attention

• nEEDS to exchange goodnight kisses before you both go to bed

• can't fall asleep without this ritual

🌸 mingi // 송민기

• smol tol noodle part 2

• wakes you up by repeatedly poking your cheek

• going on picnics with you is his moST favourite thing to do

• loves flowers so much!

• sits on massive sunflowers for lil photoshoots

• runs around collecting pretty fallen flower petals

• spells your name with them and is so proud of what he's made :")

• pls make sure you don't lose him though

• he's a tall pocket bby but the weeds are taller

• always does the rap parts during your jamming sessions

• saw you swirling your fingers in the fishbowl and getting mini kisses from the fishes

• he tried putting his hand in too

• but poor bby got nipped at :(

• bc the fishes probably think it's food

• gives you lil nose kisses when you're super tired!

• expects them back too

• plays around with your accessories

• wears your rings as lil crowns

• your pocket princess w/ a toothpick sceptre!

🌸 wooyoung // 정우영

• is irresistible and he kNOWS it

• does cheerleading moves to motivate you when you're having a hard time with studies/work

• it never fails :"))

• lotS of aegyo sets too

• absolutely loves cuddling into your palm for a nap

• he just,,, loves your hands so much :(

• found your pack of bubblegum once

• ended up needing your help to get the gum off his clothes and hair

• always needs your attention !!

• walks all over your keyboard if you've been working too much

• or if you haven't played with him in more than 10 minutes

• proceeds to do it while folding his little arms over his puffed up chest

• calling you different sweet names

• and trying to hug all of your fingers till you eventually give iN

• loves watching movies with you so much!

• insists on feeding you popcorn each time

• his lil high pitched cackle laugh??

• you gotta let him sip anything you're drinking, always

• literally prides himself on being your pocket bby :"))

🌸 jongho // 최종호

• wakes you up with aegyo

• puts himself in timeout for being that embarrassing

• needs reassurance that you loved it

• always trying to be your mini hercules

• uses cotton swabs as his dumbells to flex

• even breaks baby carrots in half to impress you

• loveS helping you cook,,

• which is basically him pushing the dishes on the counter you need closer to you

• tried to stir cooled down soup and fell into the pot once

• lil pouts when he doesn't get what he wants

• tags along when you go swimming

• he swims in your favourite bowl while you take the pool

• leaves little hearts and drawings in your notebooks!

• you never see him doing it but there are new ones in your books everyday

• loves going to the beach

• has a lil shell collection

• sits on your beauty blender and watches while you do your makeup

• wants you to put some on him too

• sings you to sleep when you're tired or sick :")

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

this is my first ever imagine so please excuse any mistakes, feel free to let me know if you have any requests or suggestions, thank you so much for reading! 💟💝💕

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mysweetestcreature · 5 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 7: Two Princes

(Banner by the wonderful noblewomankat!)

***

Masterlist

***

Monday, November 10, 2008

Y/n doesn’t know what it is, but the dreams about the bench atop the flowery hill continue to evade her dreams night after night. Every morning she wakes up, a new detail having just been discovered and needing to be added to the initial sketch that she had started two months ago. Although, there was a period of about two or three weeks where she hadn’t dreamt of the scene at all. She might have even forgotten about it all together had it not been one of the first pages in her book.

She stands at her locker, grazing her fingers over the indents of the heavier lines as though they were the actual real-life thing.

“That’s a nice drawing.”

A smile arises at the scratchy notes of his vocal cords.

“Why, thank you,” she chirps before closing the sketchbook and placing with precision on the second shelf. (She’ll be sure to work on it again later.) “Good morning!”

Harry raises his hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn. “Morning,” he barely rasps out. Slowly, he works his combination into the lock. As soon as it opens up, he tosses a bike helmet onto the locker floor.

“Did you bike all the way here?” Y/n gapes in surprise.

“It’s not that far. Mum’s away on business and Gem’s staying over at her boyfriend’s until she gets back.” After Gemma had dropped Anne off at John F. Kennedy Airport last night, she had texted Harry saying that she would be staying at Michal’s house for the rest of the week (they’re very serious, as his sister puts it). It’s not like he minds it all that much though, he quite likes having the house to himself as long as it doesn’t last more than a week.

***

Maybe he’d been a complete and utter arse in his past life, it’s the only explanation as to why he hasn’t been able to maintain appropriate stress levels for more than a few days. He really can’t help but wonder what he did to piss off the people upstairs because as soon as he had finally cleared the air between him and Y/n, this just had to happen.

Harry doesn’t like –– no, no, more like he hates –– Jasper Daniels with every ounce of his being, in fact.

And Harry doesn’t hate anyone! He’s always been pretty accepting of others, even when they’ve been jerks to him at times, but there’s just something about him that makes him want to take a football and aim it directly at the guy’s gut. What really gets his blood pressure going is how everyone, and really, he just means Y/n, thinks he’s the coolest person in the entire world. Sure, Jasper writes poetry and reads it to the elderly down at the senior center twice a week, and maybe he does play the violin like a professional out of the philharmonic orchestra. Other than that, there’s really nothing that special about him.

“He’s super hot, if you ask me,” Cici says, eyes as hazy as a dream while she admires the back of his head. “Like he’s totally got that Abercrombie model vibe going on.”

“I don’t know, that beanie makes him look dumb. Don’t you think it’s weird how he never takes it off?” Harry presses, glaring down as he shreds the remains of his chicken fingers, collecting them in a large pile on a nearby napkin. Even at lunch, where all he wants is to sit down and enjoy a meal, he can’t escape.

Cici looks at him knowingly, an almost evil smirk forming across her lips as she turns to her best friend. Maxxie kicks her under the table, desperately shaking his head as to tell her to stop, but she pushes forward anyway. “What do you think, Y/n? You know him better than I do.”

“Hm?” she hums, brows rising high before she can tear herself away from her sketchbook. “Jasper?” she asks when she looks up, Cici nods. “He’s really nice! When I went with him to his mom’s birthday, he–”

“Wait, what?” Harry drops the last bit of chicken. “Like-like as his date?” Who brings someone they’ve just met to a parent’s birthday party!? He’s known her for about three months now, and he has yet to introduce her to Anne and Gemma!

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she giggles, stealing a fry from Harry’s tray. “His mom knew I was making her cake, so she told Jasper to bring me along.” She takes a bite out of the fry, face contorting in displeasure as she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

Harry slides her a packet of ketchup. “Here,” he mutters under his breath.

“Thank you!” she cheers happily, squeezing the entire thing onto the rest of his fries. “His parents are really nice! His mom is Filipino, so the food was so good! Have you guys ever had pancit? There’s a Fil-Am restaurant just off Main Street, we should totally check it out!”

“We should!” Cici agrees. “And maybe we should invite Jasper, just so we know what to get.”

Maxxie bites harshly on his bottom lip, daring to look at Harry, who he’s afraid might explode with any further provocation. “You know,” he starts, “I was actually hoping we could get ice cream!”

“It’s like forty degrees outside,” Cici deadpans.

“And is ice cream in forty-degree weather a crime or something?” Maxxie chuckles nervously. “Or what about sushi! If we leave right after bell, we can order in time to get the lunch special prices! Seven dollars for two different rolls? I mean, how do you beat that?”

***

“What are you doing?” Maxxie asks her as soon as he arrives at her table in the library. After being dismissed from Drawing, he had shouted a rushed goodbye to Y/n before running through Abbott Hall (even getting a demerit from Mrs. Murphy because he had slammed into her cart, causing all of her hydrogen chloride to spill onto the floor).

Cici doesn’t even look up from her homework. “Geometry,” she answers evenly.

He sighs, dropping his messenger bag by the foot of the table. He falls into the chair across from her, crossing his arms and pouting at her like an upset child who has just been refused dessert. “I meant, what the hell was that at lunch? I thought you liked Harry?”

“I do,” Cici says, but sighs immediately afterwards. She places her pencil gently down into the crease of her notebook. It’s not like she called him after midnight just to chat. Of course, she had every intent of helping the guy out. Their talk was so inspiring (she should really get an award for world’s best motivational speaker) that he went all the way to Y/n’s house not even twelve hours later. “But you didn’t see her after he kissed Zoey.”

“And you didn’t see him when she wouldn’t talk to him. I’ve never seen someone so miserable in his life,” he counters.

“Look...” She leans back in her seat and pulls on her ponytail and runs her fingers through all the knots. “I want them together as much as you do, but until then, let him suffer just a little bit. No one makes my best friend cry and not have to pay some consequence for it.

Maxxie blows raspberries into the air. “Hasn’t he agonized enough, though? He texted me like an hour ago and I could practically feel the tears in his text.”

“That’s–”

“Heartbreaking?”

“I was going to say ‘dramatic,” Cici snorts, returning her attention back to her assignment.

Rolling his eyes, Maxxie gets up. “Well you’re–”

“A stellar friend?”

“I was going to say, ‘slightly sadistic.’”

***

“I definitely would recommend the chicken adobo and lumpiang shanghai for first-timers,” Jasper says over Y/n’s shoulder as they all look at the food selections. Instead of choosing what he wants, however, Harry can’t help the scowl on his face as he looks at the two of them. Although, he’ll admit that everything behind the glass screen looks absolutely mouthwatering, or maybe it’s just that he hadn’t eaten much of his lunch earlier.

“Oh! Do they have pancit?” Y/n asks excitedly.

Jasper signals towards the woman behind the counter. “Ate, may pancit pa ba kayo?” (“Do you guys have any pancit left?”)

“Wait lang! Tingnan ko sa kusina.” (“Just wait! I’ll check in the kitchen.”)

Harry squeezes between Y/n and Cici, earning him a whack in the arm from the latter when she stumbles into Maxxie’s side. “So, you’re bilingual?” he muses.

“Tri, actually,” Jasper shrugs as though he isn’t impressing everyone around him. “My grandma was a high school German teacher, so I’m pretty good at conversational talk.”

The smile that lands itself on Harry’s mouth couldn’t be any more strained, the muscles in his cheeks slowly starting to ache. “That’s...that’s great!” he exclaims through gritted teeth. Of course, how could he expect anything less? Turning to Maxxie, his expression falters. “Isn’t that just great?”

The blonde boy nods all too cautiously. “Yeah,” he draws out, switching places with Cici. He leans in just enough to whisper in his ear. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave? My mom’s just at the Shop Rite right around the corner.”

Harry can sense the panic in his tone, just as Maxxie can feel how the air that surrounds him might just be a little too stuffy for the five of them. However, he chooses to brush off the suggestion. There’s no way he’s leaving, only to give rise to an opportunity for Jasper to make a move in his absence. “Is that chocolate?” he asks, pointing to a dark, almost black dish with lumps of unknown floating at the top.

The woman behind the counter laughs loudly, bending over backwards and clapping her hands repeatedly. “Tsokolate daw!” (“Chocolate!”) she blurts out with a giggle, wiping a tear from along her lash line. “This is dinuguan. It’s like a pork blood stew. Very delicious!”

“Oh, that’s um...” Harry turns his head to the side, both Y/n and Jasper’s eyes trained on him. It’s like the next words to come out of his mouth are being anticipated by the masses, and one wrong move may lead to the ultimate humiliation in front of her.

“Hey, man,” Jasper starts, “it’s okay if you’re not up for it. Some Filipino food can be a little daunting for first-timers.” His hand lands itself around Y/n’s shoulders when he squeezes in the already tight space that lingers between them. “This one saw the lechon at my mom’s party and almost fainted. She wouldn’t even go near it!”

“Excuse me!” she gasps. “But that was a whole pig on the dining table!” She cups her face, shaking her head as she relives the vivid memory over again.

None of this amuses Harry. Not one bit. The more he thinks about how close these two have become in just a short amount of time –– probably even less than when he and Y/n had first met –– feels like his insides are being wrung like a wet towel. “You know what, give me the blood stew.”

***

Thursday, November 13, 2008

During Algebra, Harry can’t stop himself from glancing her way every couple of minutes. There’s nothing in particular that he wants –– besides for Jasper Daniels to disappear off the face of the earth –– that is going to have to wait, unfortunately. She just has this thing about her, like the way she crinkles her nose when she’s in full-mode concentration, to the way she bites on her tongue when Mr. Daughtry calls on another student when she’s had the answer solved in a fraction of the time, that constantly reels him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever met someone both adorable and attractive bundled into one body.

“Do I have something on my face?” she cocks a brow up. She’s tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes boring into her skull, but she lost the battle with herself that had restrained the desire to gaze back into the emeralds he has for eyes.

“No,” he’s quick to answer back, quietly though (he doesn’t want Mr. Daughtry to have him go up to the board). “It’s just...”

Y/n quirks her head. “Just?”

“It’s nothing,” he gulps, tugging lightly on the knot of his tie. He faces the front of the room and jots down the newest equation on the board, his jaw muscles tense under his skin.

The silence that suddenly arises on his end makes her weary of his thoughts. She gives him one last narrowed look before deciding it would be wiser to let it go. Sometimes letting it go can save an overly curious mind, even one as active as hers. Just this morning, Jeremy had berated her for being too nosey when he had dragged a large box in from the garage. “Don’t you have to be in school or something? Sheesh! Can’t a guy live peacefully without his daughter hounding him? What is this? ‘Ask Dad a million questions’ day?” And all she had asked was if he wanted some help (her dad isn’t much of a lifter).

Pretending to be completely taken with solving for ‘x,’ Harry finally breathes out a softly spoken answer, one barely above a faint murmur. “You’re just really pretty, is all.”

Y/n’s pencil scrapes across the entire page just as she’s about to put a dash across the stem of her seven.

“What did you just say?” Had her ears heard that right? There’s no way she could have mistaken it! Does he really think that? She can practically feel a fire spread across her cheeks and internalize all the way to her erratic heartbeat.

“Fifty! I said the answer might really be fifty.”

Disappointment settles on her features. “Oh.”

***

Things might have taken a turn for the worse for her today. First and foremost, she thinks she might have to get her hearing checked. Second, she received a text from her dad during cheer practice saying that he wouldn’t be able to pick her up on time because Mason’s parent-teacher conference is running behind schedule, and that she should get a ride home with Cici. Well, she wishes she could’ve read his message before Cici had driven off with her brother. She could always wait for her mom to come fetch her, but Olivia’s office doesn’t close until seven today since so many of her patients are coming in with broken brackets (the few weeks after Halloween are always the busiest, apparently).

Y/n sighs, looking down at the time on her phone screen, 5:09 PM, great.

She stands just outside the main entrance, carefully thinking through what she should do now. The school grounds are completely abandoned. With the cold weather comes darker skies earlier in the day, and there’s no way she’ll be able to walk home by herself now that the sun is barely visible above the horizon.

Maybe she will just wait for her mom. The library is open until eight, after all.

“What are you still doing here?”

She nearly jumps out of her skin. “Where the heck did you come from?” she screeches, hand flying over her heart.

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes. “I just got out of the locker room. Coach kept me and a few others to talk strats for the championships next week.”

“My mom can’t pick me up till after seven, so I was just going to head to the library,” she replies sadly.

Harry looks back towards the building, a crease forming above the bridge of his nose. “It’s a bit late for you to be here by yourself,” he notices.

“There are probably still people insi–”

“I can bring you home.”

Her lips purse together at his suggestion. A strong gust of wind hits her behind her, her hair blowing around the perimeters of her face. “Is your sister back home?” she wonders while she attempts tame the loose strands.

“Well, no,” he says, a slight hint of embarrassment dripping off the last syllable. “But my bike can hold us both. C’mere.” Taking her hand in his, he leads her towards the bike rack, where his bike stands alone. “See, you can sit right here!” He points to the long top tube just in front of the seat.

“Is it safe?” she can’t hide the apprehension of her tone. Her other hand slides over the cool metal, and her fingers curl around the tube as though to test its durability.

“Completely. And besides...” He takes the helmet tucked under his arm, then places it gently on top of her head. “I would never let anything happen to you.” He sheepishly grins when he realizes how cute she looks.

She touches the top of her head, unable to keep her lips from turning upwards. A soft giggle escapes her as she buckles the chin strap tightly. Harry’s smile only grows wider, and he eagerly swings a leg over the other side and kicks the stand up.

“Take a seat then, milady,” he says with a wink.

Thank god she hadn’t needed to bring so many things in her bag home. She fixes the skirt of her cheer uniform before sliding her bottom over the side of the tube. When she’s finally able to settle on a comfortable position (her choices are limited) she looks to her side. What she hadn’t expected was for his face to be so close hers, the tips of their noses brushing against each other. His eyes stare into her briefly, before shifting a few inches lower, lips parting on their own accord.

Y/n quickly turns her head the other way and swallows. “So, are we leaving now or what?”

His arms envelop either side of her as they grasp tightly on the handlebars. If her cheeks hadn’t already been slightly flushed from the cold air, she’s sure they would be a forbidden shade of pink from the way the inside of her chest refuses to calm itself.

***

As they stroll along Main Street, she soon realizes that maybe –– and just maybe –– she really likes being this close to him, especially when she can feel the puffs of each of his warm breaths on her cheek and on the back of her neck. The tingles reach all the way down to her toes, and she has to remind herself that she can’t fidget too much, or else they might topple over.

“Do you want to stop by Hidden Grounds?” he asks her, slowing down at the store’s front. “I could go for a rose chai.”

“I love Hidden Grounds!” she exclaims, ardently nodding. “But it’s my turn to pay, okay?”

Harry chuckles, shrugging his shoulders as he cuts across the sidewalk and parks next to the building. She hops off and waits patiently as he fishes his chain from inside his backpack. “Just a sec,” he mumbles, eyes brightening when the back of his hand grazes over it.

“No problem,” she muses. After he secures his bike to the railings, he turns to her, dimples set in as he signals to the front.

They’re shocked to see the coffee house being as packed as it is. Almost all of the tables are occupied, and by students from Ashwood, nonetheless! Y/n tenses when she sees Zoey sitting in the far corner with her minions. The redhead spots them, her face contorting as she whispers to the girl on her left. “Hey, Harry!” she yells over the combination of loud voices and music. “Want to join us?” But Harry rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore her. And he thought he had managed to shake her off him. He and Y/n try their best to swerve around the crowds of people to get to the register. Hopefully, they’ll be able to be in and out for a to-go order in less than ten minutes.

As a chair loudly screeches across the floor, Harry swiftly pulls Y/n against him before a particularly rambunctious individual (Mark Jeffries from the wrestling team) can back into them. “Watch it, man,” Harry chides, still holding her close. Both her hands fall just below his bent elbows, her cheek pressed up against his chest. Her eyes are wide when Mark stands up, towering over both of them like a skyscraper. Yet, Harry is completely unfazed. “You nearly knocked her over.”

Mark glowers at him, but leaves it be when he sees the manager come up behind them. “Sorry,” he mutters to her, then signs to his friends to follow him out the door.

Y/n touches Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s go order?” She looks up at him with a soft expression. The harshness in his eyes immediately dissolves and he nods. She turns in his hold, her hands landing atop of his that are on her hips, so not to lose him in the tight spaces. Harry doesn’t bother to hide his elation as they move in sync to the front counter.

***

It’s a quarter before six when they finally make it to her house. Y/n invites him inside to drink their beverages before the tea fully cools down, and he’s more than happy to accept her offer. The ride from the coffee house to her home had been uneventful, but it still managed to make Harry’s heart skip a beat whenever she’d turn to look at him when she had something to say. He thinks he’ll offer to take her home more often.

They find Mason in the living room, Mulan playing on the TV. He’s just at the part where all of China bows down to the heroine. “Mason...” Y/n sings, putting her finger up to her lips when she briefly glances at Harry from over her shoulder. “I have a surprise for you!”

When the little boy cranes his head back to his sister, he’s instantly filled with glee when he sees his new best friend right beside her. “Harry!” He jumps up and runs to him with lightning speed into Harry’s ready arms. “You’re here again?” he gasps when Harry picks him up.

“Of course!” Harry says firmly. “I told your sister that you and I still had to watch Lilo & Stitch together.” He reaches into the takeaway bag in Y/n’s hand and pulls out a smaller bag. “And I even got you a movie snack.” Mason bounces excitedly when he peeks inside. “Brownies!” he cheers. “Thanks, Harry!”

Just as they take a seat on the island stools, Jeremy frantically rushes in. His face full of surprise when he sees his daughter home so soon (he had been upstairs and thought someone might have broken into the house).

“How’d you get here so fast?” he questions.

“Harry gave me a ride,” she answers, taking a sip from her cup. “Yes! It’s still hot!”

Jeremy looks to the boy next to her. “You drive?”

“No, sir,” Harry shakes his head. He seats Mason in the chair on the other side of him “I do have a bike, though.”

“A bike...” the older man repeats. He walks around the island to stand closer to Harry. “What kind of bike?”

Harry licks along his top lip as he places his cup down. “Um...” he thinks. “Just a regular bike, I guess.”

“Describe it.”

“It’s silver!” Y/n offers after she swallows another mouthful of chai.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “I’ve had it for like a year now. I think it’s a cyclocross, maybe a hybrid.”

“What else?”

“Well, I put this Packers sticker on the–”

Jeremy slams his hand down on the table, causing both teens to jump in their seats (Mason is too taken with his brownie to notice). “Did you just say Packers?” He closes his eyes, and a curled fist rises solemnly to his lips. When what sounds like a sniffle erupts from him, Harry and Y/n look at each.

“Dad?” Y/n asks, almost pleading. “Are you okay?”

Her father nods his head, suddenly turning to face away from them. “Harry,” he croaks. “Would you...”

Another sniffle sounds from him. Mason looks at his sister, confusion written all over his face. “What’s wrong with Daddy?” But she honestly can’t say she knows what’s going on. Meanwhile, Harry isn’t sure if he should leave. Was it something he said?

“Would you...” he starts up again. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Harry’s jaw drops.

“Uh...” But he’s completely out of words at the moment, mostly because he truly thought he was about to get thrown out. It’s no question, he’s getting a little fed up with the prepped meals that Anne had left him, and the look on both Y/n’s and Mason’s faces only encourages him further.

With his pause, it’s quiet enough to hear the television in the next room. “Would you like to stay forever?”

“Yeah,” he smiles, “I’d love to.”

***

#president!harry #Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #one direction #one direction imagine

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southsidexslytherin · 6 years

Text

Dirty Laundry--Sweet Pea & OC (Part Three)

att-Summary: October Addams is the new kid in RIverdale. She has no friends, no family, and a dark past she tries to keep hidden. But as she starts to make new friends with the South Side Serpents, secrets start to be revealed, and October isn’t certain that she’s ready to let them see the skeletons in her closet.

Warnings: language, panic attack

Word count: 5,296

Author’s Note: Well, this took way longer than I had anticipated to get this chapter up. Life’s been crazy and I wasn’t happy with the first draft, so I ended up rewriting large chunks of it. I have an outline mapped out for the next chapter, so I’m hoping it won’t take as long to get it done. Hope you all enjoy it! Like, reblog, or comment if you do!

Chapters: 1 / 2 Masterlist

Taglist: @the-greatt-perhaps @misskarynie @euphoricmads @hereforthismoment

The next morning I was feeling much more optimistic. I had finally gotten Sweet Pea off my back, I felt like a badass after displaying my skills at the bar the night before, and I was starting to come around on the idea of making friends.

I was generally fairly cheerful as I plopped into my seat at the beginning of first period, a Monster energy drink in hand. Toni and Cheryl joined a few moments later. As soon as they had sat down, Toni started slow clapping. “October Addams, you are my hero.”

I smiled shyly, a blush warming my cheeks. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Are you serious?” She asked incredulously. “You put Pea to shame! I could kiss you on the mouth right now!” Cheryl shot her daggers. “I’m joking, love.” Toni placed a hand on Cheryl’s cheek and she calmed. I watched them as they shared a moment, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. It was ruined as Sweet Pea showed up, pulling the black beanie off of Toni’s head and mussing her hair.

“You actually drink that shit?” He said to me, eyeing the can on my desk as he sat down. I snatched the hat from him and tossed it back to Toni.

“I wasn’t in the mood for coffee,” I replied dully. I took a long sip from the energy drink, enjoying the way his lips pulled back in disgust.

The rest of the day I received a lot of congratulations and pats on the back from other Serpents. Honestly, I felt like a hero. The best part was Sweet Pea’s face when he overheard some of the things people said to me. He looked angry, but from the redness in his cheeks I could see he was mostly embarrassed, which only made me happier.

The following days were pretty much the same, and the longer it went on, the angrier Sweet Pea got. A part of me felt slightly bad for him, until he started intimidating people into shutting up. It didn’t take much: a few threats, a dark scowl here or there, his looming presence. The Serpents knew Sweet Pea well enough to know that, even though they were his family, he would still knock a few of their heads together if he needed to. By Friday everyone had forgotten, or at least pretended to forget, about the pool game, even Sweet Pea it seemed.

He had slowly returned to calling me pet names like “sunshine” and “babydoll” and standing too close to me for comfort. He even started playing with my hair and putting his arm around me whenever he had the chance. This usually prompted a forceful shove or rough punch in the chest from myself.

By the following week he had escalated to putting his hand on my knee when he sat next to me at lunch or at the Whyte Wyrm and telling me how cute I was when I was angry.

Jughead and Fangs did their best to keep Sweet Pea in line, but Toni seemed to be the only one he would really listen to. All it took was one look from the sprite-like girl and Sweet Pea would cease whatever it was he was doing to annoy me.

I had spent most nights since meeting Toni and the others at the Wyrm or the quarry with the rest of the Serpents, drinking and dancing. I was really enjoying getting to know them. There seemed to be a lot more younger members than the older generation, and I found out quickly it was due to a rival gang called the Ghoulies. There had been a gang war that left half the trailer park in ruins and several Serpents in jail. Many of the older generation had left town. Some, I learned, had even joined the Ghoulies. The younger Serpents held strong, however. Jughead had rallied the troupes, and it didn’t take long to rebuild the trailer park. They recruited a few new members as well, people like Cheryl who had helped out in their time of need.

It was easy to see how close they all were. It wasn’t just my little group of friends, but all of them. If one person drank a little too much, another one was there to hold their hair back while they puked and make sure they got home safely. If someone got into an argument at school, there were at least three other people at their back, ready to throw a fist. They really were a family. When one member hurt, they all hurt.

Spending so much time around them all started to make my heart ache. It had been so long since I had felt like I was part of a family, and I desperately wanted to join them. They made me feel not only accepted, but wanted. They enjoyed having me around, and I loved being there. I loved being at the quarry, just sitting around drinking and talking, sharing war stories and showing off scars. At the Wyrm I would team up with Fangs—and occasionally Sweet Pea, if he wasn’t being a complete ass—to con some poor sucker who hadn’t witnessed my talents into playing pool and forfeiting their cash. Other times Cheryl and I would dance around the jukebox while Toni slung beer and liquor at the bar. On the couple of nights where I opted to stay home and work on schoolwork, I would be asked by several people the following day where I had been and told over and over again that my presence was missed.

By the time Friday morning came around I was starting to toy with the idea of becoming a real member, but I was apprehensive. It was a big commitment. I knew the initiation was brutal and Serpent law was stone. A serpent never sheds its skin. If i joined, I was in for life. I kept my thoughts to myself—I didn’t want to mention it to Toni or Fangs if I was just going to chicken out later. I vowed to take my time with my decision and not rush into anything.

At school on Friday, Sweet Pea was being particularly aggressive in his quest for my attention. In first period he passed me a note that said “date tonight?” I crumpled it up and threw it at his head without responding, and I heard him snicker under his breath. In our next period he tugged on the ends of my hair as I hunched over my textbook. I slapped his hands away, but he persisted until I finally tied my hair into a bun at the back of my neck.

In the halls between periods he hung around my locker and walked along closely behind me. At lunch I sandwiched myself between Toni and Fangs and Sweet Pea sat directly across from me. He nudged his foot against mine a few times until I kicked him sharply in the shin. It didn’t seem to bother him, though he winced. He just continued to smile at me.

P.E. wasn’t any better. Sweet Pea jogged alongside me as we ran our laps for warm up. He didn’t even say anything, which bugged me even more. Afterwords we were placed on opposite teams for dodgeball. Sweet Pea was a maniac. He managed to get out everyone on my team almost single-handedly, and if anyone on his team tried to throw a ball at me, he would chuck one at their head, even after he was sidelined by Coach Waddell.

Eventually it came down to just the two of us facing off. We stared each other down, each holding a red rubber dodgeball. I held my ball level with my chest, ready to block his throw. But it didn’t come. Sweet Pea straightened up, smiling, and dropped his ball. He opened his arms wide, welcoming my shot. I channeled all my anger at the tall boy, letting my muscles tense up. I threw the ball as hard as I could at Sweet Pea. It landed with a thud in his stomach. He doubled over with a groan and everyone on my team cheered loudly for my victory.

I took my time showering and changing in the locker room, hoping to avoid Sweet Pea until the end-of-period bell rang. When I returned to the gym it had cleared out, and I headed out into the hallway.

Sweet Pea was leaning against my locker. As I made my way down the hallway towards him his eyes trailed up and down my body, taking in the thigh-high boots and tight leather dress. I was immediately on edge. I nudged him out of the way with my hip so I could open the locker and retrieve my book for the next period. I saw out of the corner of my eye that he was staring at the three inches of exposed skin between the hem of my dress and the top of my boots. He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly across the tattoo there. “How many tattoos do you have?”

I slapped his hand away, ignoring his question. “What do you want, Sweet Pea?”

“You. Tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

I slammed my locker loudly. “What is your problem? We had a deal. I beat you at pool and you stop hitting on me.”

His dark hair fell into his eyes as he looked down at me with a smirk. “Yeah, but the way I see it, you cheated.”

“I won fair and square,” I hissed, poking him roughly in the chest. He grabbed my finger and managed to entwine his fingers around mine.

He chuckled. “You hustled me and you know it.” I tried to pull my hand from his grasp, but he held it tightly. “Come on, sweetness. Just one date. That’s all I’m asking for.”

I flipped our hands over so our knuckles were pointing to the floor and bent his wrist back as sharply as I could. He yelped in pain and let go of my hand, but there was a spark in his eyes. It was like the more aggressive I was at rejecting his advances, the more determined he was.

“Listen up, Sweet Pea, because I’m only going to say this once. You’re insanely attractive, so I’m sure you’re used to girls fawning all over you. And you’ve probably never had to try this hard before. I know you’re trying your best to be what you probably think is ‘charming’ even though all you’re doing is coming off as a cocky, misogynistic prick. You probably think that if you just keep pestering me I’ll eventually give in and go on a date with you just to get you off my back.” I took a step closer to him, and grabbed his dog tags, pulling his face close to mine so he could see the ice in my eyes. My lip curled back in a snarl and I dropped my voice low, each word dripping with venom. “But news flash: I am not the type of girl to give in, especially to guys like you. So if you’d like to keep your face as pretty as it is, leave me the fuck alone. I’m done being nice.” I shoved him away hard and stormed down the hallway.

I was grateful I didn’t share my next period with Sweet Pea. I spent the hour silently fuming and trying to focus on the lesson. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly until finally, it was time for study hall. Certain that Sweet Pea would be there—he hadn’t missed a single class since I started at Riverdale—I decided to skip, making my way to the student lounge instead.

When I entered the room I spotted Jughead sitting alone on the couch as he typed furiously on his laptop. He looked up as I approached and closed the Macbook.

“Hey,” he greeted, as I settled into an adjacent armchair. I grumbled a hello in return, still in a bad mood. “Everything okay?” Jug asked, an eyebrow cocked. My own brow furrowed and he could tell by the fury on my face that everything was not, in fact, okay. “You wanna talk about it?”

I inhaled a deep breath, trying to remain calm. It didn’t really work. “What is Sweet Pea’s problem?” I snapped. “Why won’t he just leave me alone?”

Jughead sat up straighter. He thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Well,” he started slowly, “for one, Sweet Pea doesn’t really understand the concept of boundaries.”

“Obviously.” I muttered.

He grinned and adjusted his beanie. “He also doesn’t handle rejection well. He nearly kicked my ass when I first refused to join the Serpents.” I rolled my eyes. Of course he did. If there was one thing I had learned over the past couple of days it was that Sweet Pea’s answer to everything was violence. I had heard the stories from people in class about the Riverdale Rumble between the Serpents and the bulldogs, led—of course—by Sweet Pea; the trashing of the school the night of the riots; how ready Sweet Pea was at all times to start throwing punches. I had seen it myself just the week before when Reggie had grabbed me. Sweet Pea was ready to kick Reggie’s teeth in. I had seen the bruises on his knuckles, the black eye and cuts on his face—clear evidence that he had been in a fight recently.

“But honestly?” Jughead continued, “I think he’s really into you. He won’t shut up about you. It’s kind of annoying actually.”

“That’s not my problem!” I exclaimed in frustration. “I have made it perfectly clear that I am not interested in him.”

“Do you want me to talk to him? He probably won’t listen to me, but I can try to get him to back off.”

I shook my head. “No. Thank you, but I’d rather deal with this on my own.”

Jug shrugged, “Hope that works out for you.” He smirked and I couldn’t help but smile back. I threw a pillow at his head. He caught it mid air and threw it back at me. It hit me in the face and I laughed. Then I stood, pulling my messenger bag over my shoulder, ready to leave.

“Thanks for making me feel better, Juggie.” He saluted me and opened his laptop as I headed out the door.

It was around five o’clock that night when there was a knock on my trailer door. I had been unpacking the last of my boxes, tacking up posters and arranging Funko Pop figures and other sentimental knickknacks on the shabby bookshelf I had found at a Goodwill in town.

I tugged the hem of my shirt down over my exposed belly as I opened the door. The tall, leather-clad figure in my doorway immediately turned my contented grin into a scowl. Sweet Pea was holding a bouquet of pink and white flowers.

“Hi,” he said quietly. His head hung low and he looked a bit like a puppy who had just been caught peeing on the carpet. I tried to slam the door in his face but he caught it before I could and held it open.

I continued to glare at him. “I thought I made myself clear.”

“You did. I’m here to apologize.” He attempted to hand me the flowers but I refused to take them.

“Really?” I asked dubiously.

“Yeah. I’ve been an dick, and I’m really sorry.” He looked at me with those sad, brown, puppy dog eyes. My heart started to soften slightly before I remembered who I was talking to. When I didn’t say anything he continued, “I was hoping you’d let me buy you food and that maybe we could be friends?”

“So this is another trick to get me to go on a date with you?”

“No!” He insisted, “I’m done with that, I swear. I really am sorry.” I bit my lip. Did I believe him? Not entirely. But I was hungry, and I figured if he was genuine it was better to try and get along for the sake of my friends than to go on hating him.

“Fine,” I finally agreed. His face lit up and he pulled a stray ant off of one of the pink blooms before handing me he flowers again. I took them this time. “How did you know peonies were my favorite?” I asked skeptically.

“I didn’t,” he answered, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, cut them off of a bush in my neighbor’s yard on my way over. I just thought they were pretty.”

I bit back a smile as I opened the door wider. I stepped back, allowing him to enter my trailer. He closed the door behind him and I went in search of something to put the peonies in. I didn’t own a vase, but I did have a pitcher. I pulled it out of one of the kitchen cupboards and filled it with water from the sink. As I placed the flowers in the water I noticed Sweet Pea looking around my living room. He was eyeing my collection of books and movies on the bookshelf.

I cleared my throat to get his attention. His head jerked in my direction. “Let me change and then we can go.” I brushed past him into my bedroom and shut the door behind me. I pulled off the school sweatshirt I had found in my gym locker the week before, now cropped with the sleeves cut off, which I had thrown on after school. I tossed it into my hamper in the corner and pulled a black fuzzy sweater from my closet, tugging it over my head. I exchanged my black Ouija board printed joggers for red plaid skinny jeans. I grabbed a silver snake ring from the trinket tray on my bedside table and placed it on my middle finger, then pulled on a pair of platform boots adorned with bat wings and headed back to the living room.

Sweet Pea was perched on the edge of my sagging couch, but he stood when I entered the room. I grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter and my helmet from where it sat on the reading chair next to the couch. Sweet Pea followed me out of the trailer and I locked the door behind us. We both walked to our respective Harleys. When he saw me straddle my bike he spoke up. “You don’t have to—“

I cut him off, “I’m not riding on the back of your bike, Sweet Pea.” I pulled my helmet over my head and started the engine. He did the same, and I followed him out of Sunnyside trailer park. We drove a few streets over to Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe and parked our bikes side by side.

We ordered cheeseburgers, milkshakes, and a basket of fries to share, and sat in awkward silence until Pop brought out our food. “So…” I began, sipping at my peanut butter milkshake. Sweet Pea nodded, popping a fry into his mouth. I continued, “You got me here, now what?”

“You could tell me about yourself.” I picked up my cheeseburger and took a monster-sized bite.

“Whuyowanno?” I asked, mouth full, ketchup smearing my lips. Sweet Pea laughed at my unladylike behavior and I grinned back at him as I chewed.

“Why did you come to Riverdale?” He asked.

I swallowed before replying. “Next question.”

“Okay… where are your parents? I haven’t seen them around.”

“Next question,” I repeated.

“That’s too personal?” He questioned. “Alright, something easy then. Favorite book?”

“Peter Pan.” I squirted mustard on my plate and dipped a fry in it before taking a bite.

Sweet Pea looked at me incredulously. “Am I really only going to get one word answers?”

I grinned smugly. “Peter Pan is two words.” I read the question is Sweet Pea’s face without him needing to ask it. I sighed. “My mom used to read it to me when I was a kid. It was the first play I was ever in. I don’t know. It’s just my favorite, okay?” He sat in silence, watching me intently and eating his food. I went on, “what kid doesn’t love Peter Pan? Fairies, mermaids, pirates. Neverland was paradise to me as a kid. It just kind of stuck with me. And you?”

“Harry Potter,” he replied with a big smile. “I always wanted to be a wizard.”

I chuckled, “Let me guess… you’re a Slytherin?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded proudly. “I’d guess that you are, too.”

“Is it that obvious?” I said sarcastically, flipping my emerald hair over my shoulder and wiggling my green fingernails and snake ring in front of his face.

He laughed and threw a French fry at me. “Favorite movie?”

“Too many to pick just one. But horror movies are my favorite genre.”

“Do you have a favorite horror movie?”

I thought a moment. “Either Scream or Nightmare on Elm Street.”

“So you like Wes Craven?”

“I love Wes Craven.” I said emphatically. Sweet Pea nodded his approval.

“You’re kind of a nerd, aren’t you?”

“Why do you say that?” I asked with a frown.

“You have a lot of nerd stuff in your trailer.” Sweet Pea cocked his head at me, an eyebrow raised.

“Define ‘nerd stuff.’” I said defiantly.

“Star Wars posters, those weird little toy things—“

“My pop figures?” He nodded. He had a point there, my collection was expansive. Most of them were still packed away in boxes, but I had at least two dozen on display already.

“Most of your movies are sci-fi or horror or superheroes. You have a bunch of comic books. And I’m pretty sure you have more books than the library at South Side High.”

I scoffed. “Psh. That’s not even half of them.” Sweet Pea laughed and stared at me with puzzled admiration. “Why is it such a surprise to you that I’m a nerd?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I thought you were, like, goth or punk or something.”

I glared. “Why? Because I wear a lot of black?”

“Well… yeah. And it seems like you’re really into all that ouija board and satanic stuff.”

Jesus Christ, you try to smudge a dude’s aura one time and everyone thinks you worship the devil.

“Okay, first of all, I’m not a Satanist, I’m Wiccan. Second of all, don’t assume things about me. I am whatever I am whenever I am it. And thirdly,” my voice was getting louder by this point, “who the fuck says goths can’t be nerds too?”

Sweet Pea laughed, raising his hands in defense. “Alright, I’m sorry, pumpkin.” I sucked furiously at my milkshake while glaring. “For the record, I like that you’re a nerd. I think it’s awesome.” He smiled sweetly and my scowl softened slightly.

We sat there for a while, talking about our favorite music (mine: pop/punk; his: classic rock), best birthday memories (his was his fifteenth when Toni and Fangs threw him a surprise party at the Wyrm, the first time he felt like he had a family; mine was my eighth when my mom took me to Disney World and I ate so much junk food that I threw up on the Tower of Terror), and favorite holidays (we both loved Halloween).

I had to admit, when he wasn’t being a cocky dickwad, Sweet Pea was a pretty decent guy. We had a lot in common it turned out and he was actually really funny. He told me embarrassing stories about himself, like the time in middle school when he was dared to go streaking at the drive-in and ran headfirst into a little old lady who started hitting him relentlessly with her handbag like she was straight out of a bad sitcom. I laughed uncontrollably at that.

“It hurt!” Sweet Pea insisted, “I had bruises for weeks!”

By the time Pop came by to clear away our empty plates, the sun had almost completely set. I knew we should probably head out, but to be honest, I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I was surprised that I was genuinely enjoying myself.

I looked up into Sweet Pea’s face. His eyes were warm and comforting, like hot chocolate on a snowy day, and his hair fell in his face in a way that made me want to reach up and brush it back. He looked back at me in a way that made my stomach churn and I averted my eyes, dropping my gaze to the remaining dregs of milkshake in my glass.

I cleared my throat. “My mom died four years ago,” I revealed.

“Huh?” He asked, confused by my seemingly random admission.

I looked back up at him. Sweet Pea’s brows were furrowed, creating a crease between them. “You asked where my parents were. My mom died in a car accident when I was thirteen.”

“Oh, god, October.” He reached out, placing a large hand over my curled fist. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

I shook my head vigorously, “it’s fine. You didn’t know.” I was quiet for a moment as I worked to keep the pain out of my voice. “She was everything to me. Losing her was one of the most…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

I pulled my hand away from where it was still resting on the table under Sweet Pea’s and wrapped my arms around myself. My fingertips slowly stroked the fuzzy fabric of my sweater.

“Is your dad…” Sweet Pea started. I shook my head.

“I never knew him. He walked out on my mom when she was pregnant with me.” He nodded knowingly.

“Same with mine. A couple guys tried to fill his place but Mom never found one that stuck around very long. Most of them were pretty worthless anyway. Drank a lot, yelled a lot. Never bothered me much when they left, but I think it took its toll on my mom. She eventually just gave up. We’ve been on our own since I was fourteen.” His openness stunned me. It was the most honest thing I had ever heard from Sweet Pea. He didn’t seem like the type of person to talk about personal things, especially with someone he had only met a couple of weeks prior. But here he was, telling me his life story, or part of it, at least. “Did your mom ever…”

“Nope. Never dated, never got married, didn’t even have a lot of friends. It was always just me and her against the world.” I played with my straw wrapper, tearing it into pieces. I hadn’t been this open with anyone in a long time, and I wasn’t sure why I was being so open with Sweet Pea. I hadn’t even told Toni about my mom and we had talked basically every day since we met. I chewed my lip.

Sweet Pea could tell I was feeling uncomfortable, but he wasn’t going to let me shut down just yet. “Where did you go after your mom… uh… y’know…?” A blush crawled up his cheeks like he was embarrassed and he looked down at the table.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My mom’s sister and her husband took me in. I lived with them until about three months ago.”

“Why did you leave?” My throat started to close up and tears burned my eyes.

“Something happened…” I began, but stopped. It was too much. My vision started to blur and I felt like I was leaving my body. I began to hyperventilate. My head swam with memories of a different life, of a night filled with horror. There were voices screaming in my head and the tears poured down my face.

Sweet Pea practically jumped out of his seat and scrambled around the table to come sit next to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders. “October, it’s okay,” he cooed, “you’re alright. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s okay. It’s alright. You’re okay.” He began petting my hair and called to Pop for a glass of water.

I struggled to steady my breathing. I clutched at the glass Pop brought over, raising the straw to my lips. Taking slow breaths through my nose, I sipped at the ice water, focusing on the feeling of it moving down my throat, cooling my insides. I took a few more shaky breaths.

Once the panic attack had passed, I was embarrassed. I curled into myself, unable to look Sweet Pea in the eye. He stood, tossing a few bills on the table to cover our check. He held a hand out to me and I took it, allowing him to hep me out of the booth and out the door.

He picked my helmet up from where it was hanging off my handlebars and led me to his motorcycle.

“But my bike.” I mumbled.

“We’ll get it tomorrow. I don’t think you should be driving right now.” As I was still pretty shaken, I nodded, and climbed on the bike behind him. I pulled my helmet on and wrapped my arms around his torso. I clutched at him tightly; I wasn’t fond of riding on the back of other people’s motorcycles. I didn’t like the feeling of not being in control, of putting my life in someone else’s hands, and this moment—after a panic attack, when I had already lost all control and made a fool of myself—was possibly the worst time to be doing it. My thighs clung to his hips. I had never really thought about Sweet Pea’s body before, but pressing myself so tightly to it, I realized just how strong he was. His back was firm with muscles and I wondered briefly what it might look like under his black tee shirt and flannel.

I pushed the thought from my mind. Just because Sweet Pea was acting like a half decent human being for once didn’t mean I was attracted to him. I mean, yes, physically Sweet Pea was very attractive; anyone could see that. He was like the walking definition of tall, dark, and handsome. But he was still Sweet Pea—still the guy who spent the majority of the past two weeks relentlessly hitting on me and pissing me off. That didn’t change just because he bought me a burger and gave me a ride home.

We pulled up to my trailer then, and I quickly dismounted. I removed my helmet and muttered a quick, awkward word of thanks. I realized as I got to my door that he was following me. I turned to look at him questioningly.

“Movie?” He suggested.

“I’m going to bed,” I responded, shutting the door in his face.

I didn’t bother to take off my shoes as I fell onto my bed. There were a million thoughts racing through my mind, each too fleeting to consider very deeply. Is it possible I was wrong about Sweet Pea? What did he even see in me anyway? I wasn’t so great. I was complicated. I had baggage, a lot of it. I had secrets and issues and emotional problems. Why would anyone want to spend any time with me? Why would anyone want to get to know the real me? They wouldn’t like who they found. Buried under the too cool facade was a scared little girl, afraid to let people in, afraid they would find out the horrible thing she had done.

#riverdale #riverdale fic #dirty laundry fic #dirty laundry part 3 #sweet pea #sweet pea fic #sweet pea x oc #fan fiction

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tenaciousarcadeexpert · 6 years

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Criminal Minds-The Good Ol’ Days

@marvelfanlife, @itsmeedee, @stunudo, @veroinnumera, @derekmorgansoffice, @dontshootmespence, @cynbx, @jaqren, @literallyprentissstwin, @gabriellewritermua, @diamond-dreamland, @blitzz11, @beenthroughalot, @princesswagger14

If anyone want to be tagged for the next parts just message me and I’ll tag you.

Chapter 1-At the Dining Hall

After hours and hours of decorating and organizing Penelope's dorm, the five friends look on as they fathom the fact that they somehow turned a plain dorm room into a room that was so colorful, colorful as Penelope's personality. She was overjoyed to see the final touch of her room. As for the others, they were exhausted yet surprised to see the room look something that could come out from a barbie doll toy set than an actual college dorm. In other words, working on Penelope's room was much more work than working in their own dorms. They all rest on a couple of bean bags and giant pillows.

"You know what? I think we should all get ready for dinner." JJ murmured.

"Yeah we should." Kate responds as the other girls nod in agreement.

"I hope the food is good."

"We hope so too."

Soon, dinner would start as many residents head to the dining hall to eat. Surprisingly in Quantico, the cafeteria and dining hall looked pretty decent. It was brightly lit, the tiles were squeaky white clean and the tables were perfectly arranged. The lines were long as students line up to grab a tray and plate as they pick out what they want to eat. From hot soups and fresh salads from the salad bars, to warm rolls of bread and delicate pasta. All in all, the food wasn’t bad for a campus like Quantico.

Aaron sat down at at a table alone as he eats his dinner while reading a book. Once he placed the book down, he saw Matt approach him as he sits across from him at the table. "Uh..." "What?" "Of all the tables you picked, you chose to sit beside me?" "I-is that a problem?" "N-no, not at all. Please sit. I'm just saying that we're still not exactly friends." "Well I figured that we should still know more about each other." He then breaks a piece of bread. "Is that alright with you?" He shooks his head and took another sip of lemonade. "No, not at all." He smiled. "Well okay." After grabbing two plates, Derek sat down at a table besides Luke as the two eat. While eating, both Derek and Luke couldn't help but see Spencer walk around as he struggles to find a place to sit before deciding to sit by himself at a table that was the farthest from the others while eating. "You see that?" He asked his roommate. "I did. Look at him." Luke said. "All by himself, away from the crowd." "I know." Derek replies as he takes a bit of chicken. "I don't really blame him after what just happen earlier." "What happen?" "Some skater knocked him down." "Damn, no wonder he chose to sit there considering that he's afraid to make another scene." "Yeah." Derek then took another bit of chicken before getting up as Luke watched. "Hey, where are you going?" "Not far. Just gonna go talk to a friend. I'll be right back." He then walks away as he approached Spencer by his table, saying hi to other students along the way. Spencer was scarfing down on some pasta when he stopped to see Derek approch him. "Hello." He murmured as he mouth was still full. "You're here all by yourself?" He looked around and swallowed. "Yeah, it seems so." "Well if you want, you could join us. Me and my friend Luke. We still have an extra seat available." "Oh I do-" "Please, I insist." Spencer nods as Derek grabs his tray, accompanying him to his table Luke lays eyes on the wavy haired boy. "Spence, this is Luke, Luke this is Spencer." "How's it going?" Luke extends his hand out. "How's what going?" Spencer respond as he raised an eyebrow. "Uh, you know, how have you been? Are you liking the campus or anything?" "Oh, uh, never better and the campus seems to be pretty.....fine." "I see, well come, sit. I won't bite." "Oh okay, thanks." Spencer sat down as he joins Luke and Derek at the table. Although shy, he was willing to open up some conversations knowing how generous the two guys are towards him. "Oh and it's fine if you call me by my last name, 'Reid' in case 'Spencer' is hard to remember." "Sure thing, Reid." The three laugh as they eat together. At the same time, Emily looked around as she struggled to find a place to sit. While walking around, she noticed JJ waving at her. "Hey! Emily! Over here!" Emily looked to see JJ waving at her as she approached her table. There, she is joined by three other girls. "Oh Jennifer, I didn't even notice you." "It's find. Hard to recognize a Pennslyvania petite in a crowd like this." She gets up as she introduce Emily to the other girls. "Ladies, this is Emily. Emily, these are my friends. My friends are you friends." "Em, this is Ashley, my roommate." Ashley waved at her. "Hi." "Nice to meet you Ashley." "Over there is Kate." "Hi there Kate." "And this is Tara." After several individual greetings with the girls, Emily sat down as she joined them. "So, is this everyone?" "Well, not exactly. There is one more, but where is she?" JJ and the girls look around as they search for their missing friend. "Where's who?" "Penelope. You'll love her, if only we can find her." Just as the girls got up and look around for their missing friend, they stop as they see the sight of Penelope walking through a large crowd of people. She smiled brightly as she cautiously marched her way to JJ while carrying her tray. "There you guys. I was almost lost in this sea of roudy beasts." "Well, you found us." JJ responds as she helps Penelope placed her tray on the table, though she couldn't help but notice another dark haired lady smiling back at her in awe. "Oh Garcia, I almost forgot. This is Emily. Emily, this is Penelope." Emily stood up as she shook Penelope's hand. "Nice to meet you Penelope." "Nice to meet you, though it's fine if you call me Garcia." After shaking hands, the five girls gather around as they discuss certain topics like where they're from, what they're interests are, even telling Emily about how they decorated Penelope's dorm. "Seriously? A bed filled with beanie babies? Heart shaped frames? And a rainbow carpet?" "You forgot the fuzzy pillows." Tara adds as she sips her cup of lemonade. "I still have some 'fuzz' stuck in my shirt." "And the mermaid paperweights." Kate said while taking a bite of carrot. "As well as the flower shaped lamp." "And all of the fuzzy pens and mermaid paperweights on her desk. Trust us, it was like something out from a fairy tale, it was unbelievable. I sweaqr if you saw what the room looked like before and after we decorated, you would've been surprised by the difference. It-I can't even right now." JJ rambled before taking another sip of iced tea. "It was so much." "Yeah, well I wish I was there to help out." "It's fine." JJ responds as the girls continue to eat. "So Em, how's your roommate? Elle?" She asked. "She's.......okay. I mean we rarely talk but, we're okay." "You wanna ask her if see could join us?" Penelope asked as Emily looks at Elle, who was seen laughing with a couple of friends she made before shaking her head. "Eh, not really, it seems like she already has some people to talk to. Maybe another time." "Well, let's hope we can finish up. I see that they're serving out some dessert." Ashley said. Soon, people started lining up as they all try to grab some warm cookies, a slice of pie and even pieces of fresh fruit. Matt got out of the line after grabbing a couple of chocolate chip cookies and a slice of Boston-creme pie. He gently placed the pie on the table as he slides it to Aaron.

"What's this?" He asked. "Boston-creme pie. I got it for you, in case you wanted some dessert." "Well I'm flattered, but I'm not in the mood for dessert. Besides, what makes you think I'd like Boston-creme pie for dessert." "I don't know, I just got the last piece. If you don't like, I do have a couple of chocolate chip cookies-" "Again, not interested in dessert." "Okay." Just then, he saw Aaron emerge from the table. "Hey, where are you going?" "Back to the dorms. If I want to be ready for tomorrow, then I need to prepare. I'd recommend you'd do the same thing." Matt looked on as he watched his roommate leave. "What about this pie?" "You know what to do eat." After seeing Aaron walk away, Matt looked down, wondering what to do with the pie, deciding to give it away before heading back to go shower and rest. He then looked around, asking people if they want the last slice, only to be rebuffed. He then stops at Elle's table, asking her if she wants the pie, only to reject it. "Tall boy, you're making a fool of yourself, just eat it." He then walks away blushing red as the cold response initiated some laughter amongst her table. He then heads to Derek's table and asked him and his friends if he wanted it. "Hey, do any of you guys want the last slice of Boston-Creme pie? I don't mind." "Uh thanks but, I already had a slice. Sorry." Derek respond. "Same here." Luke adds. "I'd love to say yes, but sadly, I'm already full." "I understand." Just as Matt walks to the nearest trash can, he suddenly saw JJ waved her arm at him. "Hey you, guy in the yellow baggy t-shirt." Matt points at himself. "Me?" "Yeah you." JJ and the rest of the girls watched as he approached them. "If you want, I'd like to take that pie out from you hands." "You want it?" "Of course." She stretched her hand out as Matt hands her the small plate. He then walked away after thanking him. Once he left, the rest of the girls stare as JJ scarfs down on the pie. "What? I love Boston-creme pie, plus he was giving it away. It beats going back on line." she reponds. The rest of the girls, Emily, Penelope and Ashley especially, couldn't help but stare at Matt as he leaves. "Well, to be fair, we don't blame you. Besides, he doesn't look that bad." Emily said. "Yeah I would've done the same thing if a guy like him offered me a slice of cake." Kate adds. "Same here." Penelope agreed. "Me too." Tara responds. "Me three." Emily said. "All in all, we would've done the same thing." Ashley adds as the girls look on while JJ finished her dessert. After dinner, the students all head back to their dorms, knowing that the next day was the start of class. Seeing that many had to wake up early makes it more of a dread. Aaron returned from the showers to see Matt in his pjs, ready to go to bed. "Wow, you're quick. You're not gonna take a shower?" "Nah, I think I'm better off taking it tomorrow. You don't ming if I set the alarm to five?" "No not at all. Besides, I was gonna wake up at that time anyway." "Well okay." The two boys then head to their respective beds as they turn off the lights before heading off to sleep. "Well, night Aaron." "Night Simmons." At Derek and Luke's dorm, both men ponder at what their friend is currently doing while lying in their respective beds. "Gee, I hope things are okay in Reid's dorm." "Yeah, I hope so too." Derek then turns off the lamp before turning to the side to sleep. Emily returned to her dorm after brushing her teeth to see Elle in a deep sleep. She then lay on her bed while looking at Elle. She then hoped that they'd warm up to each other before falling alseep. JJ goes through her schedule while Ashley reads a book moments before drifting to sleep. At the same time, Tara reads a book while Kate sets out the clothes she plans to wear, just so that she would not be in a rush to get dressed, which Tara also decied to do. Meanwhile, Penelope goes into a deep slumber, surrounded by all of her stuffed animals and wearing a sleep mask while her disco lamp is on. All in all, it was now quiet and peaceful in Quantico University. Let's hope things don't get hectic the next day.

Sorry if this was too long, it’s only to set things up for Chapter 2

#aaron hotchner #matt simmons #derek morgan #luke alvez #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #tara lewis #kate callahan #ashley seaver #penelope garcia #elle greenaway #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #the good ol days

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365-money-diary · 3 years

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DAYS 57 - 62

DAY FIFTY-SEVEN [FEB 26]

8:00 AM - Charge comes thru for my blog’s G suite stuff $6.52

8:30 AM - Make a chemex, eat a banana. Get to work.

12:00 PM - BBQ chicken salad for lunchie.

4:00 PM - Pick up all of my things from the Pure Barre studio. Sign the 100 & 250 barres and take home some socks, a beanie, and a pair of Beyond Yoga Leggings. Play DDR.

7:00 PM - Make veggie sandwiches with potatoes for dinner.

DAY FIFTY-SEVEN TOTAL: $6.52

DAY FIFTY-EIGHT

8:30 AM - Make a Chemex. K and I have big plans today to hit up the driving range. I haven’t golfed in 400 years and I used to be decent. Played in highschool and such.

10:00 AM - First course we tried had a line. We showed up to a second and found some spots but literally no one was wearing a mask. So so weird. K and I tighten our KN95s and split a large bucket of balls. He pays.

11:00 AM - That was awesome! I need to get my clubs regripped but overall I feel good about my effort.

11:45 AM - K and I are trying to eat out once a week. K is craving Chipotle and I don’t really care what we eat. I get a burrito with light rice, black beans, veggies, guac, lettuce, pico and corn. K gets a salad. $15.67

1:00 PM - I have a handful of things I’d like to shoot for my blog so I get started on that. I shoot a chipotle chickpea melt & a brothy orzo skillet with mushrooms and kale.

7:00 PM - K has a livestream he has to help with. I make buffalo chicken sandwiches for dinner with asparagus. For whatever reason the only thing I can seem to do today is watch The Challenge. I think I make it through 6 episodes of Season 20 and eventually fall asleep.

DAY FIFTY-EIGHT TOTAL: $15.67

DAY FIFTY-NINE

11:45 AM - My friend M’s birthday was a few weeks ago and I know all he wants is friend hangs. I offer to pick up lunch for us plus his wife. He picks a Nashville hot chicken spot that surprisingly has a vegan option. I get a sandwich plus an order of fries for all of us to share. M gets a sandwich and his wife gets chicken strips. $58.64

12:00 PM - On my way to the restaurant, I realize my staple gun is on my car seat. I wonder if I left my car unlocked on Friday when I came home from the barre studio and the sources point to yes. K discovers they took an entire bag of sneakers that we planned to donate but nothing else is missing. I am so stupid.

12:30 PM - Arrive at M’s house with food in hand. We eat outside and then mask up and hang for a few hours. His lil kid runs around and it’s very wholesome. The food is delicious and I’m really excited to try it with K soon!

3:00 PM - Arrive home and shake off the gross feeling that someone was in my personal stuff last night. Remember to lock my car and put the parking brake on just in case.

4:00 PM - Roast pineapple to make a pie tomorrow. Pour a glass of wine and meet with K’s family on zoom. It’s really nice to see them!

8:00 PM - Make gf pasta for dinner.

DAY FIFTY-NINE TOTAL: $58.64

DAY SIXTY

8:00 AM - Happy Monday! Make a chemex. Pure barre charge comes out $15

10:00 AM - It’s a brand new month and I’ve got goals! Goal #1: fix my skin. It is soooo acne prone right now and I think in general it’s just starving for nutrients. Goal #2: Fix my mouth. I have developed a case of bad breath and I would like to do a round of Crest whitestrips. Goal #3: Actually get on this “new wardrobe” train. Aka buy some stuff. #4: figure out how to get rid of my flyaways I feel like this is the perfect month to do all of this because I don’t have a mortgage payment AND I get my second vaccine shot which means I’ll be integrating a little more into the world next month.

10:30 AM - Support Goals #1 and #4 by purchasing Verb ghost shampoo and hair oil, some chapstick, and hyaluronic acid + b5-2 from The Ordinary at Sephora online. $57.52

12:00 PM - Eat leftover orzo for lunch. K is shooting live streams this week so I am saving the salad for days where he is home.

2:00 PM - I’m so snacky today. I think my period is on the way. Eat pretzels, kill the rest of the chex mix, maybe some tortilla chips too. Start the process of making pie.

5:45 PM - Pull the pie out and it looks excellent. Barre lives stream starts at 6:00 so I get ready for that.

7:00 PM - Feels good to do that again after a short break this week. K gets home shortly after I finish and I toss potatoes in the oven to go with our veggie sandwiches.

DAY SIXTY TOTAL: $72.52

DAY SIXTY-ONE

8:30 AM - Pie for breakfast! + Chemex

10:00 AM - I have two friends named B and I interact with them quite a bit so I’m naming this one B-1. B-1 texts me and says she’s got a Birch box coup for a huge box of Mighty Paches and asks if I want her to swipe a box for me. I say yes in support of Goal #1 and venmo her. $35

12:00 PM - Support goal #3 by making some purchases - LOFT & Ann Taylor are having blowout sales rn so I get a long sleeve black dress from LOFT with some cream colored loafers and a black turtleneck and a long sleeve sweater dress from Ann Taylor. $142.26

12:30 PM - Eat more orzo for lunch. Try to be less snacky today. Get some really good compliments from leadership on how amazing I’ve been to work with lately on some really big initiatives that are super important to the org. Makes me feel good!

4:30 PM - Finish my stuff for the day and decide I don’t want to get too much more into work. Call G and take a walk in the neighborhood.

6:00 PM - Attend a Pure Barre live stream. Rinse off and make chipotle melts for dinner with asparagus. Leave some leftover pieces ready for K to assemble when he comes home.

7:00 PM - Finish The Challenge Cutthroat and drink some wine. K comes home and plays some Rocket League. I read The Guest List on my Kindle.

DAY SIXTY-ONE TOTAL: $177.26

DAY SIXTY-TWO 8:00 AM - Chemex & pie. Decide to spend the morning catching up on non-work stuff (i.e. this MD series) due to working past hours on Monday. Hoping today will be slow and I can catch up on outstanding items for work today and then focus on reporting tomorrow for a big presentation I have next week.

11:20 AM - Support Goal #2 - Crest White Strips!

12:00 PM - Therapy. She says I’m doing well. I have to say I agree. $90

5:00 PM - Discover one of our data tools is under-reporting. Ugh. Do a live stream recording and make pozole for dinner.

10:00 PM - There was a document that was sent out for work super late and I have a meeting at 9:00 AM tomorrow to talk about it so I do some light reading before bed.

DAY SIXTY-TWO TOTAL: $90

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