#queue-ing these out over the next few days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

threecrowsinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

For One More Hour or One More Day

Dukeceit Week Day 6: Horror/Comedy

Remus and Janus work in IT, and Remus never fails to make Janus' life a bit more exciting than it should be. Janus wouldn't have it any other way.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 1416

Warnings: swearing, typical Remus-levels of implied sexual content.

@dukeceitweek <3

[06032021 Network Node Down- 172.12.203.1 - Dee Why ]

Janus stared at the next ticket in his queue. He didn't even have to look at which tech wrote it. He just knew. He picked up his phone and dialed.

“'Sup, DeeDee?"

"Because they use ancient technology and refuse to upgrade, that's why."

There was a beat of silence on the line. Janus didn't need to see him to know Remus was grinning like a maniac.

“Oh, JD, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Remus said finally. His voice was laced with barely-contained glee.

“Uh-huh, sure," Janus replied dryly. He watched on his screen as an incoming call diverted from his in-use line. "Do you want to clarify for me, in excruciating detail, what, exactly, it is that broke this time? After all, if it's something I can fix from here, it would save the company an awful lot of money. And you know how I love saving this company money."

“You don't feel like taking work calls either, huh?"

“Ree, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

[06142021 CRITICAL | Device failed Availability and Latency checks - Dispatch Requested]

Janus sat in his truck for a few minutes, cross-checking the address across his e-mail, Slack, and the ticket itself. And yeah, they all matched. This wasn’t a repeat of that time Remus had changed the address on the ticket from 96th St. to 69th St. as a joke.

(Janus had almost gotten mugged. He was still a little salty about that one.)

But this time, all the addresses matched. The problem was, he was parked in front of a restaurant instead of the usual office building, and that just didn’t seem right. He opened up Slack on his phone.

Janus D’lyre: Are you sure the address is right?

Remus Rey: Yeah, it’s right.

Janus D’lyre: It’s a restaurant.

Remus Rey: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Janus D’lyre: Are you positive it’s right?

Remus Rey: I just write the tickets, Dee, I don’t do a background check. Just go in.

Janus sighed. He got out of his truck, hefted his tech bag over his shoulder, and went inside.

It was a nice restaurant. Very fancy, with a goddamn chandelier hanging over the front lobby. Field engineers weren’t required to dress in a suit and tie, but Janus did by habit- and he was glad he did, because he would feel like a horrible slob standing here in jeans and a polo.

“Can I help you?”

Janus looked over to the host, standing at the counter with a bright smile that only looked 52% faked.

“Yes,” Janus answered. “I’m here about the network issues?”

“Oh!” The host- his name tag read ‘Patton’- brightened up a bit. “Yeah! Remus is waiting for you, this way!”

“Remus is what?”

It was too late. Patton had already darted around the counter and off into the dining area. Janus sighed and, regretting every life choice leading up to this exact moment, followed.

Sure enough, Remus was waiting for him. Patton led him to a quieter area of the restaurant, where Remus was sitting at a table. Well, sitting was a generous way to phrase it, because in reality, he was tipped back on the rear two legs of the chair, combat boot-clad feet up on the table. He jumped up eagerly at the sight of Janus, and somehow managed not to fall backwards and crack his skull open.

“Hey! You made it! Thanks, Pat!”

“No problemo!” the host replied with a grin before heading back to the front counter. Janus briefly considered that he might be having a fever dream right now.

“Remus, what the fuck?”

“Told you it was the right address!”

Janus glared. “That is not what I’m ‘what the fuck’-ing you about.”

“I mean, I’d prefer me fucking you-”

“Remus.”

“Well, you work so hard, DeeDee,” Remus said calmly, as if he wasn’t standing in the middle of the fanciest restaurant on this side of town, dressed in his usual tank-top and leather vest combo and probably mashing dirt into the plush red carpet, and definitely doing something that should get him fired. “I thought you could take a break, and we could have a nice dinner.”

No, he wasn’t doing something that should get him fired. He was doing something that should get them both fired.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Kinda a lame joke.”

“Remus, you had me dispatched to a random address for a fake problem, to have dinner with you on company time?”

“‘Course not, who do you think I am?”

Janus did not dignify that with an answer. He turned to walk away.

“Jannie, wait!” Remus darted around the table to get in front of him. Janus stopped, and glared. “This is Roman’s restaurant! It’s not a random address, he’s an actual client.”

Janus’ glare lessened. Ok, sure, they did have some smaller commercial clients. And sure, Remus had mentioned his brother’s restaurant was using them as tech support now after a bad experience with a different company. But- “It’s still a fake problem, Remus.”

A shit-eating grin spread across Remus’ face. “Nah. I unplugged the router.”

Janus snorted in a totally dignified manner. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“...Well, I suppose… I’d better investigate the issue. Couldn’t be solved remotely, hardware problem and all.”

Remus held out a hand. Janus took it, and let Remus lead him back to the table.

“Great, cause I already ordered!”

[06192021 Switch is problematic. Unable to get into the switch || Serial No. 111-0203-2018]

Janus very calmly cleared the ticket, set his work phone to away, pulled out his personal phone, and sent Remus a text.

Jannie-D: I know you’re upset I didn’t let you fuck me last night. Get over it.

Remster: i will not

Virgil Caligo: yo are u and remus like good?

Janus D’lyre: We had a small argument last night. Why?

Virgil Caligo: [image attached]

Janus sighed. Virgil had sent him a screenshot of a ticket update Remus had just posted.

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘The device is not only unresponsive to simple ping requests, but is being kind of a jerk about it. 100% package loss, a tragedy. Device was confirmed to be connected to a working power source, but they all say that, so who can really be sure. Dispatch requested, please confirm maintenance window. Actually showing up would be great, too.’

Janus hastily typed a message to Virgil.

Janus D’lyre: Did you take that one?

Virgil Caligo: ya. logan didnt see dw

Janus D’lyre: Thanks. You can transfer it to me, I’ll take care of it.

Janus leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. What a comedy of errors this day had been. It was the last time he’d forget he and Remus had a date night planned, that’s for sure.

Remus sighed when a priority ticket popped up in his queue. He was having a grand time ignoring his other queues in favor of sculpting a rather elaborate dick out of the green Play-Doh he kept at his desk, but he really did not feel like getting bitched out by Logan for missing a priority ticket. Grumbling to himself, he stuffed the Play-Doh back into its tub and opened the ticket.

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘Likely a hardware bug. Possible remote fix with reset and reconfigure. Device information missing from online records. Please check file and update record.’

Fuck. Remus hated pulling files. What a pain. He trudged his way upstairs to the records room, which was always dark and depressing because nobody ever went there because who the fuck used physical paper in 2021?

But when he unlocked the door and pushed it open, the light was on. And every surface was covered in flowers.

“What the fuck?” Remus asked the flowers. They didn’t answer. But, at the small desk near the door, there was a stack of green boxes from his favorite bakery- and on top of that, he saw an envelope with his name on it. Eagerly, Remus tore open the envelope.

Inside, he found a single sheet of Janus’ fancy stationery paper, the kind with the little holographic snakes along the edge that he only ever used for special occasions. And on that paper, one single sentence, penned in Janus’ elegant, flourishy handwriting: Ok, you can fuck me tonight.

- - -

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘I take it back, the device is no longer being a jerk, and I love the device very much.’

#dukeceitweek #dukeceit #janus sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #kye writes

92 notes · View notes

woodrokiro · 3 years

Text

Do It For the Band, Part Five (fic)

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: IchiRuki:

Summary: When Tatsuki said she wanted their sophomore album to be the next Rumours, this is NOT what she meant. Band AU. Read Part One, Two, Three, and Four.

Against her better judgement, Tatsuki takes an early flight home the next morning, so she really doesn’t know what went down.

Frankly, between battling her colossal hangover and focusing on not puking on the plane when it hits turbulence: she doesn’t even think about it until later in the week.

Since the tour ended, the band has a week off to just chill and take some time for themselves before regrouping and planning their next move. Tatsuki goes straight home to smoke weed and binge dumb movies on her to-watch queue. Chad and Orihime had plans to stay in their last tour city for a while since they had friends and family there.

And as for Ichigo and Rukia…

Who knows. They’re both such dorks that they’re probably that gross couple who serenade each other in bed, naked, making weird metaphorical lyrics about the sex they just had.

Gross. But kind of sweet.

She makes a point to not think about or reach out to any of them (besides Orihime, of course) the entire week - not that she doesn’t love her team fiercely, but they all need the break away from each other... Especially after they spent all their time together making the album and going on tour, and especially if Ichigo decides to show one of his new Rukia-love ballads to the band upon their return.

Still, she attempts to check in with Ichigo on the fifth day over text.

How ya doin’, tiger?

He doesn’t respond for a few hours, but she doesn’t think much of it. He’s always been sort of a shitty texter, and there’s a strong chance all the raucous love-making isn’t reminding him to check his phone.

She’s on the fourth episode of Terrace House’ newest season, debating whether one of the cast members is a chaotic queen or absolute garbage when she hears the familiar ping of a text message on her phone. She picks it up and reads:

Fine.

Huh.

Not exactly the sunshine-y answer she expected, but then again: it’s Ichigo. He’s not exactly a sunshine-y person, even when - apparently - he’s radiantly happy.

She shrugs, deciding not to push it. She’ll find out soon enough how everything’s going when they have practice in a couple days.

Practice is in Chad’s garage, and Ichigo, Chad, and Orihime are already there.

She mostly chats with Orihime, who has so much to update her on about her newest recipes, like natto ice cream and sriracha orange juice, and hey, Tatsuki, what are your thoughts on this newest article I found about robots dominating the planet within the next five years?

Tatsuki glows in the babble, chuckling when she can’t help herself. Says the first sounds… Interesting, the second sounds like maybe she can keep revising it a little, and that last article sounds like it might be from a not so trust-worthy news source.

Her friend tries to argue the source’s credibility when she looks over at Ichigo. He’s silently tuning his guitar, head bent and posture weirdly… Slumped when she catches his eye.

She raises her eyebrows at him without interrupting Orihime’s chatter. You good?

He shrugs, gives a weak smile and thumbs up before returning his attention back to his instrument.

Uh oh.

Ichigo Kurosaki does not do weak smiles… Or thumbs ups, for that matter.

It’s another few minutes before Rukia swings the door open, a bit of a sweaty mess and running out of breath.

“Hi all, I’m so sorry I--”

“You’re late.”

Everyone swings their attention to Ichigo, who observes their keyboardist stone-faced. The shocked silence that follows is short, but suffocating.

Rukia flushes before she blinks, raising her chin. “Yes. As I was saying… I’m sorry I’m running late, everyone. I had a lunch meetup with an old friend that went longer than expected. Please forgive me.”

“Chill, Rukia - you’re fine. You’re only five minutes over.” Tatsuki shoots a look at Ichigo, who’s still ruthlessly eye-ing daggers into Rukia.

What the hell…?

“... Whatever. Let’s just get started. Go over everything to catch back up to speed, and all that.” Ichigo plugs his guitar into the speaker, and Rukia nods as she quickly sets up her keyboard.

Practice from there is…

Like. It’s good. It is. Despite the long break, everyone is still on top of their shit: Tatsuki’s beats are muscle memory by now, and Chad is as on it as he ever was. Ichigo and Rukia are in perfect sync, per usual.

The energy, however, is another story. While there was always some sort of joy and excitement when they all played together, now it’s like the air is stiff, heavy. From behind, Tatsuki can see Rukia keeps trying to look at Ichigo during all the parts they usually harmonize together, to get some sort of connection.

Ichigo doesn’t even remotely glance her way the entire time.

They’re near done with the entire set when Ichigo clears his throat, turning to the rest of them. Urahara has joined them by this point, watching with an unreadable smile as ever.

“So… I think we should scrap Sun and Moon from our main set.”

Orihime lets out a soft gasp. Chad’s fingers accidentally let loose a note on the live bass. Tatsuki chokes on her spit.

“Sun and Moon? You mean our crowd pleaser? The one we always end shows with a bang on?”

“It’s not our only crowd pleaser, we’ve also got some other great ones. I’m just afraid it’s gonna be a one-hit wonder, ya know? And with that note…” He turns to Urahara. “What do you think about us going ahead and starting to write for our sophomore album?”

They gape at him.

Even Urahara raises his eyebrows. “That’s… Well. That was fast.”

“Is it? Our album is more like EP, anyway - just a little longer. Like a warm-up. And it’s good, of course I’m proud of it - everyone worked so hard on it - but, just… Why not start now? Why not take advantage of the momentum we’ve got going on?”

Rukia clears her throat. “Ichigo, that’s… We’ve got such a good grip on what we have -”

“I just think Soul Vibes is static for us. Outdated.” He quickly looks back at her before returning his attention to Urahara.

Rukia looks like she’s been slapped.

“I think we’re more dynamic now, even just in these few short months. And yeah it’s fast, but - we have time, right? To get started on writing?”

“I suppose so.” Urahara looks at Tatsuki and Chad, who both shrug. Something’s really off here, but Tatsuki sort of sees his point. It’s clear Ichigo’s raring to write something new… Why not?

“Sure, if you’d like, I can make some arrangements with the music studio. You and Rukia can go in there and--”

“Actually, I was thinking we can work on some stuff alone before presenting it to the group.” He stops Tatsuki when she begins to sputter. “Look, I know the whole reason for pairing Rukia and I for songwriting was to get us working as a team. But we’re fine now…”

Ichigo looks back at Rukia, and they share a look that’s so… Tatsuki doesn’t know what it is, but she sees Rukia swallow heavily in response.

“We’re fine now.” He repeats grittily. He starts again, stronger: “We collaborated on some cool shit, now I think it’s time to make it a little more diverse like I mentioned earlier. Have my songs, have her songs, have Chad’s songs if he still wants - all threaded together with Tatsuki’s beats. Why not?”

The room is quiet as they contemplate it. It’s not a bad idea, but…

Tatsuki glances over at Rukia, who’s looking down at her hands.

Urahara clicks his tongue.

“Well, Kurosaki, you raise a good argument. I don’t see why not, and I’m not hearing any objections… Just one thing: you’re not striking Sun and Moon quite yet. No arguments! Hear me out.” He stops Ichigo with a hand. “You’re not striking it until any of you come up with a song just as good, if not better. There’s power in that one, you can’t deny it. Make something as rock n’ roll as that and the team will talk. Let’s just… Keep each other in the know, all right?”

The band - Rukia included, albeit softly - agrees, and they start to pack up.

Tatsuki doesn’t know what’s going on; she’s always down for making more jams, she knows Ichigo and Rukia have got more up their sleeves, that Chad definitely deserves to put more of his stuff forward - but that… Look the two vocalists shared…

What happened that night after she left the bar?

She doesn’t have much time to wonder, however, because suddenly she’s shaken out of her thoughts when she hears Ichigo approaching Orihime about whether she wants to go out and get a couple of drinks.

Tatsuki’s heart is too busy falling to see Rukia’s stricken face.

#my stuff #ichiruki #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #do it for the band

23 notes · View notes

crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years

Text

Nights in the City

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

Almost forgot to queue this, oops. Luckily I remembered just in time :) Anyway, this is a chapter about Schneep, because I feel like we should give him more attention in this AU. I mean, he’s a cool badass superhero, and we haven’t seen that much superhero-ing so far! So, here’s a short chapter about what that usually entails for him, with some cameos from the boys and some background characters. Enjoy :)

More of this AU found here

When most people lied about calling in sick to work, they were planning on doing something fun with their free time. But when Schneep lied about being sick, it was because he’d heard that there were some shady dealings going down on the north side of town that morning, and he had to be there to hear the information. Truly, the life of a vigilante was a glamorous one.

At least he’d had an extra-large cup of coffee that morning to make up for it. That would keep him alert as he waited on a rooftop ledge for said shady people to show up. This would be a terrible place to lose his balance. But it was the best hiding spot in the area, partially covered by a decorative stone outcropping while still being within earshot of the street below. It was a cloudy day, and not a lot of people were out and about. Which is why, when two people walked up to each other and sat down on a bench outside the building where Schneep was hiding, he paid extra close attention.

Luckily, there wasn’t too much wind or other background noise. He managed to get the gist of what these two were talking about. They were using a lot of the common code words that criminals in the city had developed. And he was familiar enough with that code to figure out they were talking about smuggling some firearms into the city. They mentioned the west edge more than once, referencing some common location that he wasn’t familiar with. And then they left.

Schneep frowned under his mask. It wasn’t a lot to go off of...but he didn’t mind. It would be nice to distract himself with a normal criminal case. To take his mind off all the stressful supernatural shit they’d been going through for the past months. And as a distraction, it was working. As he carefully slid off the roof ledge and onto a windowsill below, he was already running through the crime hotspots he knew about in the west side of the city.

Now that he was grabbing onto the windowsill below, he was about twenty feet above ground, so he dropped off the building altogether. With the ease of years of practice, he landed on his feet, letting his specially designed boots absorb the shock of the fall. Great. Now all he had to do was go home and spend the rest of the day narrowing down locations.

But as he turned to leave, Schneep paused. There was a car parked down the street, on the opposite side. Not unusual, but...it had been parked there when he arrived to eavesdrop on the criminals’ conversation. An hour ago. And again, not too unusual, but...it just didn’t look like the kind of car that would be common in this area. It was too new and clean.

Wary, Schneep looked away from it. After a moment’s hesitation, he started to walk down the street away from the car, remaining on edge and listening for anything odd.

Sure enough, as soon as he started to walk away, he heard the sound of a car starting and pulling onto the road. Going slow. Approaching. He sped up a bit, glancing around for alternate routes.

After only a minute, the car was driving alongside him. He glanced over at it just as the window rolled down. A voice shouted, “Hey!”

And Schneep immediately turned and ran into a gap between the buildings. “Hey wait!” The voice shouted, and he heard the car stop, but he didn’t slow down. There was a fire escape up ahead with a ladder, pulled up so the end was about six and a half feet off the ground. He jumped, catching onto the bottom rung, and started climbing. There were more shouts on the ground below. He didn’t pay attention to what they were saying. Instead, once he reached the first landing of the fire escape, he pushed open the window and ducked inside the—fortunately—abandoned building.

He quickly found the staircase and climbed up until he reached the roof access. Once up there, he glanced around and noticed that this building was fairly close to one of the ones next to it. So without hesitation, he jumped across the gap and onto the next building’s roof. Only then did he pause, and look over the edge to the street below.

The building was about five stories tall. Short enough that he could see a figure on the sidewalk below, tall enough to make it difficult to tell who they were. Luckily, he didn’t have to. He’d gotten a pretty good look of her when she rolled down the car window earlier. It was that detective, Kikelomo. The one who’d been working on Jackie’s disappearance, and later, the kids’ as well. And...the detective he’d ran into when he’d snuck into the police station a month ago.

“Scheiße,” Schneep cursed. He’d half-hoped that she’d forgotten about seeing him, but apparently not. And apparently she’d managed to put together that the stranger from that day was him...or, more accurately, was his ‘hero identity,’ Von Voltage. It wasn’t surprising. After all, he’d zapped a couple people when getting away. Probably a big no-no to zap people working for the police, but he’d been more concerned with leaving as fast as possible.

Was she looking for him? She must have been, but how did she find him? Silently, Schneep watched as she walked out to her car—which she parked in the middle of the street when she got out to chase him, that was a bit of a dick move—and climbed into the driver’s side, soon speeding off. He waited until the car was out of sight before leaving.

———————

A while later, Schneep arrived at Marvin and Jameson’s house, still in his super suit. He’d been careful not to be seen while running here, just in case Kikelomo was still trailing him without him knowing. But by the time he reached their street, he was pretty sure she was gone. This neighborhood wasn’t too busy, any activity was noteworthy. But he didn’t see anything strange. And JJ’s car was still in his driveway, so at least one of them was home.

Letting himself relax a bit, Schneep hurried to their front door, pulling his mask off as soon as he reached the doorstep. Without knocking, he opened the door, calling out, “Hello? Who is home?” And then he froze.

Normally, the front hall of the town house was empty. But not today. And the person he ran into wasn’t Marvin or JJ. It was Jack. Leaning against the wall by the kitchen entrance, Sam on his shoulder, looking at his phone. But he looked up at the sound of Schneep’s voice. And slowly, took in the outfit he was wearing. “Well that would explain some things,” he muttered, looking down at Sam. “Wouldn’t it?” They nodded.

“I—I—uh—you—it’s—ah—” Schneep stammered for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “What are you doing here?” he asked, slowly closing the front door behind him.

“JJ called me. There’s...um...a situation.” Jack gestured towards the kitchen entrance. Now that Schneep was getting over the shock of running into a stranger, he could hear someone’s voice coming from the room. “Apparently everyone else was busy.”

Schneep frowned. “Excuse me.” He walked past Jack and peered into the kitchen.

The voice that Schneep could hear was Marvin’s. He was arguing loudly with JJ. But Schneep could tell that wasn’t the ‘situation’ Jack was referring to. No, the ‘situation’ probably had to do with the fact that Marvin was pale as a sheet and sweating, even as he continued to argue. JJ wasn’t arguing back because his hands were busy helping keep Marvin upright, arms wrapped around his torso. Marvin clearly didn’t have the energy to stand on his own, and was holding onto JJ’s shirt tightly, even as he continued to protest.

“—not worth th’ trouble, it’s all fine,” Marvin was saying. “Y’can just go on and stop fuckin’ worryin’ about me. I can handle t’is, ‘ve done it a million times.”

JJ frowned, and didn’t say anything. Oddly enough, he was wearing his mask today, usually he only wore that for performances. He glanced over towards the door that connected the kitchen and the dining room. A red-haired woman was standing there, but at his look, she said, “Right, right,” and stepped aside. Immediately, JJ started dragging Marvin to the dining room.

“Hey! No! Drop it, Jems!” Marvin hit him weakly in the shoulder. “I don’ need to sit down.”

JJ just looked at him doubtfully.

Schneep felt this was a good moment to interject. “Ah, am I interrupting something?”

The two of them looked over at him. “Henrik! Tell him ‘m fine!” Marvin said.

“Sorry, I cannot do that,” Schneep said. “I would hate to lie to my friends.”

“Wha...?” Marvin groaned. “Alrigh’ fffffine, I’ll go...go sit at the table.” JJ looked relieved, and helped him over to the dining room, gesturing for Schneep to join them.

Nodding, Schneep retreated back into the hallway, circling around to the dining room. Jack, having heard most of that exchange, followed him.

Over in the dining room, Marvin had taken a seat at the table, leaning forward. He looked like he wanted to put his head down on the surface, but was barely resisting the urge. JJ was standing next to him, and the redheaded woman was standing off to the side. Upon seeing her, Schneep tried to retreat, again remembering that he was still wearing his super suit. Unfortunately, she caught sight of him before he could back out of the room. She gave him a friendly smile and waved.

“So...what is happening?” Schneep asked slowly.

JJ started to explain in sign language. I have rehearsal today. The first one since the...voice accident. So I really need to go. But Marvin got sick this morning and I didn’t want to leave him alone, because of how he is. But he’s insisting I go anyway and I didn’t need to call anyone to watch him, because he’s fine. A lot of the words were finger-spelled, slowing down the speech, but he was starting to get the hang of it. Nowadays he signed more frequently than he wrote.

“I see.” Schneep nodded wisely. A rehearsal, that would explain why JJ was wearing his mask. “And so you called these two to help?” He indicated Jack and the redheaded woman.

I called Jack, Jameson said, finger-spelling the name. Because Jackie’s at work, and Anti’s busy recording today, and I thought you were at work, too. I thought Jack could help, if it wasn’t a bother.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Jack said. “I was happy to come over and hang out. There’s just the bonus matter of making sure Marvin doesn’t kill himself.”

“I know what ‘m doin’,” Marvin grumbled.

You do, you just decide to cause problems on purpose, JJ rebutted.

“Okay,” Schneep said, mentally filing away the fact that Jack knew BSL. He turned to the redheaded woman. “And you are...?”

“I’m Aoife,” the woman said. “A friend of Jameson’s. He invited me to watch his rehearsal, since apparently he likes to have someone in the audience usually and Marvin wasn’t up for it. But I don’t know how to get to the theatre where he’s rehearsing, so I thought I’d stop by to ask Jameson if he could drive me. When I walked in, these two were faffing about.”

“No, Jems was faffing, I wasn’,” Marvin protested.

“Everyone is Irish,” Schneep muttered. “Dare I ask what that means?”

I understand it means ‘wasting time,’ basically, Jameson said.

“An’ you were def’nitely wasting time,” Marvin added. “Ye’ll be late at...at t’is rate.”

I’d be okay with that, as long as someone’s here to make sure you don’t do anything to tire yourself out.

“Stop worryin’ ‘bout me, you always...ye always worry ‘bout others. Be concerned with yourself, for once. Spreading too thin, stop.” Marvin’s words were starting to slur together.

“Well, ah, I was stopping by to ask if I could stay for a while,” Schneep asked. “So...I could stay and help out.”

Would you? Jameson asked.

“Of course.”

“Ye jus’ poppin’ in to check on us?” Marvin grinned a bit. “Real swell o’you.”

“That, and...ah...” Schneep awkwardly looked down at his costume. “I was out, and I didn’t—I-I wasn’t ready to go home yet. Not that there is any danger, I just...for me.” Even though he was sure Detective Kikelomo hadn’t followed him here, there was a lingering sense of paranoia that wouldn’t leave him alone.

It’s fine, Henrik, Jameson said. Jack, do you want to stay?

“If everyone’s fine with it,” Jack said cheerfully.

Marvin muttered something under his breath, finally laying his head down on the table. He appeared to have given up on getting JJ to not worry about him.

That would be so helpful, thank you both. JJ sighed. He shook Marvin’s shoulder, getting his attention. Call me if you need anything. And please, actually take the medicine this time?

“Sure, Jems,” Marvin said softly. “I promise. Now get out o’here.”

JJ nodded, and headed out, gesturing for Aoife to follow him. I’ll see all of you this afternoon. Five at the latest.

“Have fun, Jameson,” Schneep said. “Do lots of mag—oof!”

“Oh, sorry!” Aoife had bumped into him as she walked past to leave the room. She gave him a smile. “I didn’t mean it, I was trying to be quiet.”

“Is fine, do not worry,” Schneep assured her.

“Great. Oh, and if you find it, don’t get rid of it, will you?” Before Schneep could ask what she meant, she breezed past him and followed JJ out of the door.

Schneep was quiet for a moment, staring after her. Then he turned back to Jack and Marvin. “Do you two know what she meant?”

Marvin paused. “No, but I do know somet’ing. Aoife, she’s...she’s Jems’s magician friend. Works for whatever magic...place there is out there. For magicians. An’ she’s told him that she...her specialty is divination. So it’s probably important.”

Schneep blinked. “Divination? Like...seeing the future?” He couldn’t hide the skeptical tone in his voice.

“It’s not so weird,” Jack said. “Like, Sam gets feelings that they should go do something. That’s how they met all of you. I think that’s a form of divination, if just a minor bit of it.” Sam jumped in agreement.

“Well...alright.” Schneep decided to put that aside for now. “Ah, Marvin. Were you doing anything in particular that made Jems think he should call someone?”

Marvin hesitated. “I was tryin’ t’make tea,” he finally mumbled.

“Oh, tea. That sounds like a good idea,” Schneep said. “I will go make some, then.”

“...t’ank you.”

“No problem at all.” And Schneep headed back into the kitchen, determined to forget about the detective who was looking for him.

———————

The next few days passed uneventfully. Schneep would spend his nights scouting out locations, looking for a place that could fit the area the two criminals were referring to. They mentioned this arms deal going down a week from then, so he had that much time to narrow down where it could be taking place. He settled on three possible locations in the western part of the city that could fit, and decided to check each of them when the day came.

Said day arrived quickly, and it dawned rainy. That was annoying. And cold, because of course it was, it was practically winter by this point. His suit was insulated, but he still felt the chill. He could’ve just let it go, but he didn’t become a notorious vigilante by giving up. So he found himself running about in the rain for hours, tracking down the locations.

The first two were busts, no suspicious activity there. But as they say, the third time was the charm. Schneep arrived at an old electronics shop just as the sun was starting to go down on the dark rainy day. The sign out front said it was closed, but the lights were on inside. Not too unusual. Except for the fact that he’d suspected this place was some sort of front for a while.

Schneep waited in the shadows across the street, making sure the glowing parts of his costume were turned off, and watched the shop. He’d brought along a pair of binoculars for the scouting that day, and kept an eye on the front and side entrances. It was a few minutes before he caught sight of movement near the side. People. He couldn’t make out the details, but someone appeared in the front window to close the blinds. Maybe nothing. Or maybe...

It warranted further investigation. Schneep slipped the binoculars into a backpack, which he left tucked into a space in the wall caused by missing bricks, and hurried across the street to the shop. There weren’t many alternative entrances to this place. He’d checked. The closest thing was a window in the back, so he circled around the building to reach it. The window was high in the wall, but there were some trash cans in the nearby alley that he pulled over so he could reach it.

Carefully, he peered over the ledge through the window. It was a bit difficult to make out the room at first, since the glass was dirty on the inside and covered in rain on the outside, but he could see a group of people. Eight of them, separated into two groups of four. And wouldn’t you know it? He recognized two of them as the pair he’d overheard last week.

The window was the type that would slide open. So Schneep slid it open an inch, listening for voices over the sound of the rain.

“—just hurry up, neither of us want this to last forever,” one voice was saying.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your pants in a twist.” There was the sound of cloth rustling. “See? It’s right here.”

“How do we know it’s all there? And real?”

“Well, how do we know you aren’t handing over some shoddy weapons? Or ones that’ll be tracked by the coppers?”

“Just shut up,” a different voice said. “If we keep goin’ this way, we’ll be at a standoff all night. Let’s just exchange goods at the same time, then check them over.”

“Right.”

“That sounds fine to me.”

Just by this snippet of conversation, Schneep figured out that there were two groups in this exchange, and they had some trust issues with each other. Great, that would mean he’d be fighting two groups of four instead of one unified group of eight. Hopefully, some of them would try to run or attack the other group when he jumped in. And speaking of which...this seemed like a good time. When the ‘goods’ were changing hands. Silently, he slid open the window. It opened wide enough for a person. So he grabbed the edge of the windowsill, braced himself, and just as someone inside was saying, “Hey, the window’s open—” he leapt through.

He landed in the center of the room, causing instant confusion and shouting. Quickly, he grabbed the nearest person and zapped them, instantly knocking them unconscious. There was a large crate on a wheeled dolly nearby, so he kicked that towards two others. One jumped out of the way but the other was surprised and easily got knocked over.

“This was a setup!” One of the criminals shouted, pulling out a knife. “You dirty bastards!”

“Don’t pin this on us!” Another yelled, pulling out a knife of her own.

So none of them had firearms. At least, that he could see. And he assumed that the crate had some inside, so that was a factor. He’d have to be—

One of the criminals came charging at him, swiping with a knife. Schneep dodged out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the blade grazing across his upper arm. Luckily, it didn’t break through the suit. He grabbed the culprit’s arm with both hands and, with a fair amount of effort, threw them into another criminal who was also running towards him. He let out another burst of electricity from his gloves as he did so, rendering that one unconscious as well. Then he ducked close to the ground, scooping up the knife the criminal dropped in surprise when he threw him, and dodged to the side, avoiding the sudden rush of every other criminal trying to grab him at once.

So that was two down, one temporarily out of commission as he tried to wiggle out from under the body of his friend. The one he’d hit with the crate was standing up, trying to pry open the lid. “Oh no, don’t you dare,” Schneep growled, lunging over towards the crate and grabbing one edge of it. The criminal looked up at him, shocked, then tried to punch him. He ducked, and swung the knife he’d picked up. The criminal ducked in turn, but didn’t notice that Schneep had also lunged forward, other hand coming from the other side and knocking him unconscious with a single hit. Three down.

Two of the remaining ones were now fighting with each other—as he’d predicted—and grappling in the corner. The one who’d been knocked down was standing again, recovering her bearings, and the other two were running at him. Quickly, he decided on a priority: get the crate full of guns out of reach of any of these people before taking them out. So naturally, he pushed it forward again. The two running at him leaped out of the way, clearly not wanting the same thing to happen to them as happened to their friend. Schneep took advantage of their distraction and ran after the crate, grabbing the edge of the dolly and swinging it around so it was facing the room’s door. Then he pushed it out, running after it.

“Hey!” They were shouting after him, but he couldn’t slow down. The crate, being large and heavy, was swiftly gaining momentum as it rolled down the hall. He managed to turn it through the open doorway leading to the front of the shop, but once it was in there, all he could do was aim it for the front entrance.

The crate easily smashed through the double doors and rolled out onto the street, impacting the side of a car—wait, a car?!

A siren started up, and blue lights started to flash through the blinds of the front window. Schneep let out a string of curses under his breath. He could either turn back and try to leave through the window or the side entrance, facing a small group of criminals with knives, or go through the front door and try to avoid who-knows-how-many police officers, none of whom liked him.

He thought about it for a split second before turning and going back into the back of the shop. Luckily, the criminals were also taken by surprise, so he managed to slip by them and out through the side entrance before they could. He started to run, but then paused. He grabbed one of the trash cans that he hadn’t used to get through the back window and pulled it in front of the side door, barring it. Then he started to run, heading towards the opposite end of the alley.

But then a bright yellow light shone into the alleyway. Schneep glanced behind him just long enough to confirm his first thoughts: car headlights. And a voice shouted, “You there!” and he turned and ran. Hopefully the still-falling rain would make it easy for him to lose them.

“Wait! Don’t run again!” Footsteps splashed behind him, but he didn’t stop. He ran until he reached the other end of the alley and emerged onto the opposite street. This side was empty. He glanced left, then right, then turned left and kept running. The footsteps were keeping pace with him, but if he could just get to a ladder or something he could lose them on the rooftops.

One of the streetlamps overhead was out, leaving a patch of shadow on the sidewalk and road. He ran underneath it and looked back towards the person behind—

Slip.

Because of the rain, the broken streetlamp, and that backwards glance, he didn’t see the water pooling on the sidewalk, or notice the curb that marked the corner of the street. One misstep was all it took for him to fall hard onto the street, hitting his head, and everything flashed white before fading to black.

———————

The pain was the first thing Schneep noticed when regaining consciousness. The back of his head felt like his skull had split open. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying on...a seat of some kind. A sofa? Well, it was a hard and unusually small sofa if that was the case. He heard voices as well, or maybe just one, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, so he ignored them and opened his eyes. Black spots danced in front of him, a shadowy face faded into his peripheral vision before fading away. Well, that was normal, so he ignored that, too. “Ja, piss off,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s a bit rude.”

That voice...sounded a bit more solid. And as he looked around his surroundings, it reinforced that first impression. He wasn’t lying on a sofa, but in the backseat of a car. Rain dotted the windows, and a light in the ceiling overhead lit up the scene in a yellow-white glow. He glanced towards the direction the voice had come from. And came face to face with Detective Kikelomo, sitting in the front seat of the car, looking around the back of the seat to stare at him.

His heart stopped. He realized he wasn’t wearing his mask anymore. Okay, time to disregard the slight murmurings that he could still hear, this was higher priority. After a moment of staring at her, frozen, he lurched into a sitting position and turned around to try and open the car door. That didn’t work, because first, it was locked, and second, the sudden motion sent a wave of nausea coursing through him. He groaned again, pressing his forehead to the car window and clenching his teeth.

“Be careful,” Kikelomo said. “You were out for a few minutes, and you might have a concussion. I was going to offer to drive you to the hospital after this.”

“Is fine,” Schneep said through gritted teeth. “I can take care of it.” Jackie would be waiting for him back at his apartment anyway. Though he didn’t like the idea of making him worried with a possible concussion, it was probably better to get his opinion first before taking it to a doctor who’d ask questions.

“Take care of it the way you took care of that puddle Rachel said you slipped in?” At this point, Schneep realized there was someone else in the car, in the front passenger seat. A woman, with blonde hair cut to chin-length. “Real nice for some superhero.”

“Shut...up.” Schneep squeezed his eyes shut. God, his head still hurt. But more importantly...“Am I being detained?”

“Well...” Kikelomo picked at the stitching on her leather seat, glanced over at the other woman, then looked back at Schneep. “No. Not exactly.”

That wasn’t what he was expecting. Schneep looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “What do you mean?”

“That wasn’t my plan at all,” Kikelomo said. “Though...I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t considering it. I was going back and forth, but then...well...that note convinced me.”

“Note?” Schneep asked, confused.

The other woman held up a folded piece of paper, a bit wet from the rain but not enough to lose its integrity. “This fell out of your...costume...when we were dragging you into the car. What’s this about, anyway?”

Schneep managed to sit up straight. “May I see that?”

The woman shrugged, and handed it over. He quickly unfolded it. There was a message written on it, in solid, straight handwriting. It read: To Rachel and Lydia. He means you no harm, and is no threat to you. I think you should let him go, because he’s currently dealing with something that your normal police can’t handle. It’d be better for everyone that way. Oh, and swing by that shop on Everett that you’ve been wanting to visit on Saturday :)

He read it a couple times, processing what it said. “I...have no idea what this is,” he finally admitted.

“Really?” Kikelomo said doubtfully.

“Really, I—” Schneep paused. “Oh.” Last week, when he’d gone to Marvin and JJ’s house. That magician friend of JJ’s, Aoife, had bumped into him. She said something weird about not getting rid of something ‘if he found it.’ This must be that something. “I understand now. It got slipped into one of my pockets, I did not even know it was there.”

Kikelomo still looked unsure. “Well...who put it there? And how did they know our first names?”

Schneep shrugged. “Someone who bumped into me. A stranger.” Not technically a lie, he wasn’t familiar with Aoife. But Marvin said she had divination magic. Had she...known this would happen?

“Alright, fine, let’s put that aside for now,” Kikelomo dismissed. “You’re not being detained, but I would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Only if you let me ask you some first,” Schneep insisted. “How did you find me? What are you planning to do? Who is this other person?”

“My name’s Lydia,” the other woman said casually. “I’m her fiancée.”

“Ah. Okay. Then what are you doing here?”

“Helping. This was all her idea, but I thought I’d join in. And good thing I did, someone needed to bring the car around when you knocked yourself the fuck out just a street over from a police raid.”

“That is fair,” Schneep relented.

“Let me start with your first question,” Kikelomo said. “I know you follow a lot of the illicit activity in the city. So, I kept my ears open for any cases going on that you might be interested in. We got a tip that there were some negotiations going on between the Striped Snakes and Monte Blanca, and I thought you might be interested in that. Apparently it was a well-known fact in the underworld. So I just followed along with the investigation.” She paused. “Technically, I’m not supposed to be here,” she admitted.

Schneep took a moment to process this. “So...you were investigating, out on your own, with the possibility of getting in trouble for it...on the chance that you would run into me.”

“...yes,” Kikelomo mumbled.

“Hey, trust me Mr. Voltage Guy, this is the first time she’s done something like this,” Lydia said. She sounded rather upbeat about that fact, almost proud.

“But I knew I had to!” Kikelomo protested. “After you snuck into the records at the police station, it took me a while to realize I’d seen you before. Actually, Rya was the one who remembered. You’re a friend of Dr. Parker, aren’t you?” Schneep hesitated, not willing to answer. But that was enough. “I thought it was strange that you risked going into the station, but once I figured out you were friends with him—he disappeared, didn’t he? And so did his daughter and her friend? It’s an unusual set of circumstances, and since you like to take the law into your own hands, I figured you were trying to do something about it. Aren’t you?”

Schneep rolled his eyes, then winced as that caused a few more black spots to dance before his eyes. He really should get his head looked at soon. “You say that about taking the law into my own hands, but are you not doing the same thing, following me, tagging along on a case that wasn’t yours? Hmm?”

“I...” Kikelomo paused. “This is for my case. It’s my job to find out what happened to your friend and those kids, and if you can help—”

“Well I can’t,” Schneep interrupted.

Kikelomo blinked. “Look...I understand that you...have an operation...here. And I will admit, it does actually help in some circumstances, even if you break a thousand laws on the way. But clearly, whoever is behind this has skill. Not only have they managed to stay hidden this long, but I believe they somehow manipulated your friend’s and the kids’ memories, which is no small feat. In this case, the resources of the police are more qualified to handle this.”

At that, Schneep couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Kikelomo watched, shifting awkwardly in her seat and giving Lydia a few unsure glances. “Maybe I should...rephrase what I said,” Schneep finally said. “You cannot help me. You are not qualified for this. Trust me, I am barely qualified for this. And, quite frankly, you do not want to be involved. I often disagree with the saying ‘ignorance is bliss,’ but I think it applies in this situation.”

Kikelomo was unsure how to respond. She glanced at Lydia, who just shrugged and said, “Remember that note? It said something about the normal police not being able to handle this.”

“Even so, I can’t imagine a situation where you don’t want more hands on deck. Unless this is somehow...I don’t know, if the government is involved or if it’ll cause a scandal. But still, I’d think I’d pick up if this was something like that.”

“No, you wouldn’t. The people who want stuff like that under wraps are very good at keeping it that way.”

“Still.” Kikelomo glanced back over at Schneep, who said nothing. He didn’t care what she thought about this situation, as long as she left it alone. “We could provide protection for your friend—”

“No, you cannot,” Schneep said firmly.

And Kikelomo fell silent again. Then she slowly turned around and started the car. “If we’re not taking you to the hospital, where are we going?”

“Drop me off on the corner of Underhill and Yew,” Schneep said, pulling his mask back on despite knowing it wouldn’t help anymore. “And please stop following me. You are just making me paranoid all the time.”

The car ride that followed was awkward and silent, but luckily, it was soon over, and Schneep stepped out of the car and onto a rainy street. He didn’t move until they were gone, and then he sighed. Well, that was bad. He didn’t want anyone knowing his identity, much less a detective and her girlfriend. But hopefully, they’d drop the matter, and he’d never run into them again.

———————

Unfortunately, those hopes were dashed two days later.

It was getting towards the end of his work shift, and Schneep was ready to leave. Not for any particular reason, he just didn’t have the energy. He’d considered taking the day off for medical purposes by calling in and telling his manager that he’d hit his head a couple days ago and had to stay home. Even if Jackie said that he’d be alright, that would still be reason enough. But he’d decided against it on the grounds that he’d already taken a few days off and risked losing his job if he did it again.

So here he was. Staring at the wall clock in the chance that it’ll go faster if he watched it. Then he heard the familiar sound of the front entrance opening and closing and Jennifer, his coworker, said, “Could you get that? I’m working on the order for the last guys.”

Sighing, he nodded, and headed out to the front counter. “Hello, welcome to Latte Lake, what can I—” Then he stopped. “You are fucking kidding me.”

The pair of customers who’d just walked in were none other than Detective Kikelomo and Lydia. Clearly off-duty, wearing casual street clothes and looking relaxed, but it was them nonetheless. And they looked just as surprised as he did. “Ohhh, that’s why the note said to come here,” Lydia muttered.

“The note—oh.” Schneep took a deep breath as he remembered the last line of the note Aoife had put in his suit. Something about the two of them going to a shop on Everett. The street where Latte Lake, the shop he worked at, was located. That should have rang a few bells when he read it, but there were a lot of shops on the street, and he’d had more pressing matters on his mind. “The next time I see that—that magician, I am going to kill her,” he muttered.

“Sounds like someone really wanted us to continue the conversation, if you ask me,” Kikelomo said, sounding a bit smug.

“Can we not do this now?” Schneep asked. “Do you know how much of a—how bad of an asshole you have to be to do something like this while someone is at work, and cannot leave? An awful one. No. Stop this.”

“Ah...well, sorry,” Kikelomo muttered. “But we didn’t come here intending to do that. We just wanted to check out the cute little cafe.” She paused. “Alright, this is the last thing I’ll say. Are you sure you don’t need our help? I mean, we’re professionals and you’re...well, you’re very good, but it’s different.”

Schneep rubbed his eyes. “Look. I do not say this because I hate you, or any of the pol—the people you work with. I say this because you literally cannot help. You cannot catch Dis—the person behind this. You cannot do anything to him. Anything you can think of will not work. We are...are just...surviving. Avoiding him. We are working on stopping him, but so far, we cannot. And you will not be any better at it. I promise you.”

Kikelomo thought about this. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“I—” Schneep choked. Even letting that slip was too much. “No. Don’t. I am asking you politely, stop talking about this. I can go in the back and just stay there, I am only talking to you out of courtesy. Just...stop. Give it up.”

Lydia nudged Kikelomo. “Hey Rachel? Maybe drop it for now.”

And Kikelomo sighed. “Alright. I’ll drop it for now. But this isn’t over, I can promise you that. I’m a detective. I will figure out what’s going on.”

“And when you do, you will see how right I am,” Schneep said stubbornly. “Now if you will excuse me.” He turned around and called out, “Jennifer? Are you okay with switching?”

“Yeah, sure, Henrik,” Jennifer replied, not noticing the way Schneep winced as she said his name out loud in front of the detective. Silently, he switched places with her, and things went back to normal as Kikelomo and Lydia placed orders, sat down to wait, and then eventually left the shop once their orders were ready.

His shift ended soon after that, and he practically ran out of the door and down towards the bus stop. As he waited for the bus to arrive, he wondered. Should he have told them the truth? It may have been unbelievable, with magicians and a man out of time and a strange gray smiling creature tormenting them all. But maybe he could have convinced them?

No. No, it was just too unbelievable. And he didn’t want to be judged for it, especially when the person doing the judging had the power to do something about it. His situation was just too precarious, being a vigilante in a city where that was illegal. He couldn’t risk a detective having a low opinion of him.

Still, he was sure that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see Detective Kikelomo. If she was so determined to figure out what was going on...maybe she’d be able to find the truth. And when that happened, Schneep would be happy to accept whatever help she offered. But he wasn’t going to be the one making the first move. He simply couldn’t afford to.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos au #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #septicswitchau

15 notes · View notes

tsukkiscookies · 4 years

Text

私の嘘

“love is sentimental, after all.”

genre: somewhat angst

pairing: kageyama x reader

word count: 1k

special thanks to @loneveenas for beta-ing this! i really appreciate it <3

kageyama is really ooc here 🤧 let’s just say he’s a man of very few words, but his head be full of thoughts :P

or just pretend that this is a sweet!kageyama au lmao

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

my love,

on your sixteenth birthday, i told you three things.

one truth, two lies.

back then, we were seated on the floor, by the corner round the vending machine. two milk cartons was all it took to start this little tradition - with our backs slumped against the wall, we’d ramble about our day, talking about our highs and our lows.

but that day, it was different, yet it felt the same.

you came, puffing and panting with a stack of textbooks in your hands. we sipped on our milk in comfortable silence, looking at the beautiful greenery ahead of us.

but you were the only beautiful scenery that i had eyes for.

the first truth: “i love you.”

i meant to tell you this for the longest time ever, but i never knew when to bring it up. part of me regrets blurting this out all of a sudden, but i couldn’t lie to you about this. i can’t lie about my feelings for you, after having suppressed them at the bottom of my chest for so long. to have said these three words to the right person, to have said them while meaning every single word of it, what more could hurt my worthless pride?

my bruised ego.

you tilted your head back in laughter, hair flowing down your back so gracefully. milk box in hand, your cheeks puffed up, cheerful laughter echoing within the walls.

my heart broke, because i knew you didn’t see me that way.

“tobio-kun, don’t be silly. of course i love you too, we’ve been best friends for so long.”

not like that.

“just as friends, of course. happy birthday, pumpkin,” was the first lie i told.

you didn’t think too much of it, and gave me a happy thanks as a response. but you will never know how much hearing you say that phrase broke me. like a farmer pouring all his love into the seeds he sows only to have a bad harvest, the seeds of love that i sowed for you, i could never reap.

i didn’t realise that i was lost in my own thoughts - thoughts about not being able to hold those precious hands in mine, or not being able to feel your beautiful smile against mine, or not having your comfortable warmth wrapped in my arms.

everyone always told me that i’d be the last one to fall in love - how wrong they were. to be fair, i thought the same too, having my head always wrapped around volleyball and my failing grades. but that was until i realised that i was falling, falling so hard and so deep in this curse we call love.

and i’ll forever blame myself for not realising this earlier, because those loving eyes only shone for another man, who didn’t see you the same way as i did, who wasn’t me. i wasn’t willing to sacrifice this friendship of ours that we treasure so much, in the feeble fear that what once was ours would be brutally taken away by the cruel hands of time.

i guess there’s only so much i can do.

you snapped me out of my thoughts, asking why i was so detached, so spaced out.

i wish i could have told you that it was because of this craven heart of mine and its feelings for you, but i was scared of losing what we have. of losing this greed and this want for more, of losing you to someone else, of losing you to the forgetfulness of time.

so i told you my second lie.

“why would i tell you everything when you’re not the one i’m in love with?”

i couldn’t tell you. not because it’s a secret, but because i’m a coward.

“tobiooo, you know you can tell me anything right? i’ll always be here to listen.”

i know that, love. i’ve always known. but seeing those concerned eyes of yours gazing down on mine just breaks my heart more.

in retrospect, i don’t even know why i told you the first truth in the first place. because one more year and we’re out of here, each pursuing our passions, a million miles apart. and i’d be a mere paragraph, part of a chapter of a book we call life.

but even if you said the same words to me, and even if you forget me when those long years have passed, i can smile in my dreams knowing that you once looked my way, even if only for a fleeting moment.

i know i’ll never muster up the courage to say that one truth to you in person in the near future, but even without me telling you, i hope you know that. as a friend, or as a lover- it doesn’t matter anymore, because i’m happy as long as you know that.

so till the next time i muster up my courage to get you to look my way, i hope you’ll remember me in all the little things. i hope that milk and blueberries still remind you of me. i hope that the colour blue still reminds you of me. heck, i even hope the sight of failing grades reminds you of me.

and even if you look into another man’s eyes and tell him the three words i told you, i want you to remember that i loved you first.

and no one really forgets the first time they fall in love, because i know that it changed my life forever. because the little daisies by the roadside remind me of your beauty, the fragrance of sweet mangoes remind me of the sweet summertime memories that we share. it’s because of love that all these little things look so beautiful, so love me, love me not, here’s my thank you for showing me the beauty in everyday life.

i don’t know why i’m getting so sentimental over this, we’re still seeing each other nearly every day.

but i guess love is always sentimental after all.

love,

tobio.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

the words in the title are in japanese, and they translate to “my lie”.

so i intended to post this by like midnight but i’m too tired to stay up and i don’t know how queue works so here you go >w< first time i’m sleepy by 10pm

cheesy babies: @akaashichigo @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma @kawanisshi @briswriting @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @keiji-n @asranomical @chxrry-wxne @estherwritess @pineapplekween @airybby

(continued in comments tumblr acting up today)

88 notes · View notes

churchkey · 4 years

Text

Our Daily Winnix

@easy-company-tradition asked for some canon-era Winnix fluff, and here’s what I came up with.

1,400 words. Teen with some sexy and period-typical language. And unbuttoned trousers. Many thanks and loves to @anthrobrat for the beta and hc-ing help <3

“Are you listening?”

They were crammed shoulder to shoulder in a bed too small for two mostly-dressed full-grown men. The cigarette bobbing between Nix’s lips kept dropping ashes down the front of his open shirt and Dick craned his neck trying to avoid the curling trail of smoke rising from its tip.

“Yes,” Dick said petulantly. “Stop asking me that.”

“Then pay attention.” Nix flicked the edge of the paper with the middle finger of his right hand. “This is important.”

“So read it.”

Nix took a drag off his cigarette, arching one indignant eyebrow as he blew the smoke up toward the ceiling. He cleared his throat.

“Where the hell was I?” he mumbled. “Ah. Here we are. ‘After the patrol, led by Sgt. Martin, completed another successful crossing of the Rhine, they again advanced on the suspected OP, only to discover that it was not an OP at all, but rather a brothel’ -”

Dick huffed and turned his head to look at the disheveled man lying next to him. “Nix.”

“What’d I say about interrupting?” He knocked his boot against Dick’s at the foot of the bed.

“Sorry,” Dick said, chuckling as he turned onto his side and propped his cheek in his hand. “Tell me all about the German prostitutes.”

Nix dragged on his cigarette again and went back to the report.

“‘The whores had been expecting them and had deployed themselves in the most erotic formation possible. The men found themselves at a considerable disadvantage, having lost both the element of surprise and any resistance they may have otherwise been able to mount, their ranks being comprised of grunts who’ve not gotten laid in many months and at least three virgins.’”

Dick laughed again and shifted his body to align it more comfortably next to Nix. He began idly rubbing the pad of his thumb over the raised bumps of Lew’s dog tags. Lew dropped his cigarette into the chipped coffee cup on the nightstand and stretched his arm around Dick’s shoulders.

“‘Naturally concerned about the possibility of contracting a venereal disease or being turned to swine, Sgt. Martin decided that the safest course of action would be to abort the mission. The team radioed their CO, Capt. Speirs, to inform him of the failure to secure any prisoners, but as he was busy executing phase 2 of his crafty and incredibly subtle seduction of the company’s newest commissioned lieutenant, the patrol did not receive orders to return.’”

Nix paused to glance over at Dick. He wet his lips, the corners of which began to rise in a sly grin.

“‘They then attempted to contact the senior staff assholes who’d sent them on this pointless mission in the first place, but, taking advantage of the fact that they’d both recently showered, Capts. Nixon and Winters were otherwise occupied in sucking each other off for the first time in -”

“Stop.” Dick slapped the paper against Nix’s chest. “Jesus. You’re shameless, you know that?”

“What?” Nix asked innocently. “Is it too vague? Should I add something about what the whores were wearing?”

Dick just shook his head faintly and looked back up at the ceiling. He felt Lew’s fingers at the back of his head, coiling tufts of his hair into unkempt swirls.

“Is that true, about Speirs?” he asked after a quiet moment. “Is he really a queer?”

Nix shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He looked down at his open fly and tried to draw the flaps together with one hand. “Yeah, I kinda think so. Or maybe just for the time being. Hey, there’s a good Army acronym - QUA. Queer Until Armistice.”

Dick didn’t want to think about that. He knew that whatever he and Nix had together might not survive the translation into civilian life, but he hated to think of the feelings as temporary, just a phase that would fade into the distance like the receding coastline as the ship carried them home. If it had to end, he wanted them to be the ones to end it.

Instead, he indulged the unchristian impulse to gossip, telling himself that, as Battalion XO, he had a professional need to know. And anyway, they’d been evaluating the character traits of the rank and file since the day they’d been entrusted to their care. It wasn’t like they were going to spread it around, them, of all people.

“How do you know?”

Nix hummed evasively.

“Lew?” Dick elbowed him. “I’m serious, what makes you think he’s a queer?”

“He… one time - ” Nix shifted away from Dick and turned to lie on his side. “One time he asked me if - you know.”

Dick shook his head. “No. Asked you what?”

“If he could - you know.” Nix revolved his hand at his wrist in a gesture that Dick knew he was supposed to interpret as being obvious.

“Just tell me.”

Nix looked into his eyes for a moment and then spit it out, matter-of-factly. “If he could suck my cock.”

Dick blinked a few times, his mouth falling open in shock. “Are you serious?”

Nix nodded.

“When was this?”

“Shit, when the hell was that?” Nix mumbled to himself, looking down at the unbuttoned front of Dick’s shirt. “Nijmegen? Or were we still in Aldbourne?” He looked back up at Dick. “It was raining outside, I do remember that.”

Dick nodded thoughtfully, becoming fascinated by the vortex of feelings swirling around inside of him. He didn’t know if he had a good reason to feel any of them, so he just observed, tried to name them. Oh, that’s jealousy. There goes curiosity. Insecurity? Where did you come from?

“What did you say?”

“I told him to get in line!” Nix nodded over his shoulder, pointing his thumb at an imaginary queue of eager would-be oral sex partners.

Dick shook his head faintly, waiting for Lew to say more, but he was quiet.

“So you didn’t?”

Nix blinked a few times, his brow scrunched in some charming combination of confused and affronted. “Of course I didn’t.”

Dick paused a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet and sweet around the edges. “Why not?”

Nix dropped his head and gaped at him. “What the hell do you mean ‘why not’?”

Dick turned back on his side so they were facing each other. He shrugged, one coy shoulder lifting and falling in a pretense that Nix had surely learned to see through by now.

“Oh I get it,” Nix said softly. He began looping his fingers through the buttonholes of Dick’s shorts. “You’re gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Well.” Dick slid a little closer to him. “I’ve just never known you to turn down sex. So why not?”

“Why not,” Nix murmured, echoing him. His eyes fell to Dick’s mouth for a moment and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. “Maybe ‘cause I’m your guy.”

“Maybe?” Dick murmured back. “You sure about that?”

Nix hummed and tugged at Dick’s shorts, as though doing so would bring the rest of this body closer too. “I don’t know. Are you still my guy?”

Dick let himself really smile then, unguarded, his face lighting up with all the affection and tenderness and passion and devotion he was alway so careful to keep hidden, even from Nix. Even from himself. But they both knew it was always there, and these moments when they could show it were worth all the blood and dirt and cold and death, all the hell they’d had to endure. Loving him was worth everything.

“Yeah. I suppose I am.”

Dick tucked his chin and tilted his head to the side. He kissed Lew slowly, gently, like they were just two lovers saying goodnight, like they hadn’t just hastily gotten each other off in a bombed out house with the occasional mortar falling a few yards away.

He knew that in a few minutes they’d have to button up their pants and do something about their hair, that Lew would have to leave to write a real fake report, and that he’d have to pin on those bars and become Captain Winters again. But for a little while longer he could just be here. He could lay back against the mattress, and kiss the rumpled, handsome man in his bed, and just be Nix’s guy.

#winnix #fluff #asks #band of brothers #band of brothers fic #lewis nixon #dick winters

18 notes · View notes

brightmoonprincess · 4 years

Text

Scorpia/Adora Coffeeshop AU for @blackbyakko for the @sherawintergiftexchange!

it’s very cheesy and rushed, but hope you like it!

paring: Scorpia/Adora rating: G length: 2.1k words

- - -

For my best friend Entrapta! Good luck on ur robot! (^ ᴗ ^)/

Since her first day working at the cafe, Scorpia has always written kind and encouraging messages onto every single customer’s cup. Sure, her coworkers complain about not being to find the name quickly enough when it’s time to call it out. And sure, sometimes the queue of customers get irritated by the longer wait...

But it’s fun! And it keeps people happy! It’s part of the reason why Scorpia loves her job. It makes the coffee shop feel more like family, rather than business.

For some quirky reason, Entrapta insists on her espresso being served in the smallest sample-sized paper cup that’s available. It’s made it difficult for Scorpia to write out her message on it. Her hands aren’t exactly danity, and neither is her penmanship.

(These meaty claws were meant for sweet sweet loving, not for writing tiny tiny letters.)

The bulky, fluffy letters cover almost the entire surface area of the cup. The emoji at the end barely makes the cut, but she manages to squeeze it in.

“Another mini espresso, coming right up!” Scorpia says, setting the cup down at the end of the line of pending orders. “Hey, uh, Entrapta… Do you think you should slow down a bit?”

It’s the tenth coffee in a row that her eccentric pig-tailed friend has bought, and Scorpia is starting to worry about her caffeine intake… Can baristas start cutting people off? Or is that only a thing for bartenders?

“What? And waste my precious time unconscious when I could be working? Never!” Entrapta proclaims when the notion of “slowing down” is suggested to her. She’s practically vibrating.

Scorpia sighs.

After Entrapta goes to wait for her drink, Scorpia takes the next customer’s order-- but she notices that her trusty marker is almost out of ink. Man, this things really go quick-- this is the third one this month!

“Mermista! Do you know where we keep the markers?” Scorpia calls out to the other side of the bar.

Her less enthusiastic coworker groans in response. “You do know that we’re getting paid minimum wage, right?”

Just as Scorpia is about to remind her about the importance of kindness and customer service. Mermista holds up her hands and says, “Hold up, forget I asked. I’m clocking out in two minutes.”

“Already? I thought you were working until closing with me!”

“Oh, right. You don’t know yet,” Mermista realizes. “We have a new girl. She started yesterday, and she’s taking over the rest of this shift.”

Scorpia’s eyes light up. A new coworker! This could be a new friendship opportunity! Not that Mermista isn’t great, but sometimes she can be a bummer when working. The Etheria Coffee Co family could stand to gain another member who has the same passion for the art of barista-ing that Scorpia has!

Right on cue, another person comes in from the back room. She greets them joyfully, “Hi!”

Immediately, Scorpia’s excitement turns into huge disappointment.

Really? Really???

Of all the eligible working young women in this town, they just had to pick the most irritating person to ever exist, with the most obnoxious personality and the most ridiculous forehead-enlarging hair poof.

They make eye contact, Scorpia’s sharp glare battling against Adora’s wide-eyed surprise, and the two buff baristas say in union--

“Oh.”

/ / / / /

“Two non-fat peppermint mochas, a sixteen-ounce americano, a salted caramel latte, and a orange-mango-agave smoothie are on the bar!”

It’s been a week, and Adora is absolutely insufferable.

She somehow manages to make six drinks simultaneously, putting together even the most complex drink orders as if she’s made them all a million times before. It’s like she’s some kind of latte-making superhuman!

Of course, she’s great at the job. Why wouldn’t she be great at everything she does?!?! Grrr.

She even convinced Entrapta to drink decaf coffee for a while instead, telling her that it’s a missed opportunity to experiment with placebo effects of caffeine. Why didn’t Scorpia think of that?!

But the worst part?? Despite the fact that Scorpia has been working at the shop for two months, Adora keeps asking her if she needs help with something. It’s like she’s always looking for a reason to swoop in and play the hero, like someone needs her to save the day from coffee shop mayhem. It’s infuriating!

And no, it has absolutely nothing to do with the Catra situation, thank you very much. Scorpia is irritated by all of this for completely unrelated reasons! Adora is a terrible coworker! That is the one and only explanation.

“Phew! I’m glad the place is finally starting to slow down! How’s it going over there, Scorpia?” Adora asks.

When Scorpia doesn’t reply, Adora looks over at her, and she becomes concerned at the completely crushed cup in Scorpia’s clenched fist. “Er… Scorpia? Do you want to take a break? I can handle it from here.

Oh here we go again. Scorpia doesn’t need Adora acting like she’s better than her all of the time! She is the furthest thing from a damsel in distress. And after the past week of having to tolerate all of this, Scorpia can’t take it anymore!

“Alright, alright! We GET it, Adora! You can handle it! You can handle everything! Well, I, for one, don’t need your help!” Scorpia snaps, too loudly.

“What? I’m just trying to be nice!”

“... W-o-w.” Mermista’s draws out her monotone reaction as she pokes her head in from the back room. “So can both of you, like, stop being weird and help me lift some of these boxes?”

Adora and Scorpia glare at each other, but-- now that it’s incredibly awkward and uncomfortable-- they silently agree to move on. For now.

They follow Mermista to the back storage closet, where she directs them to a tall stack of boxes to carry out. They’re small but surprisingly hefty. Nevertheless, Scorpia lifts one onto her shoulder with ease.

Adora picks up two.

So, naturally, Scorpia picks up three more.

Yes, in fact, this just became a weight-lifting competition.

They keep at it for a bit, stubbornly matching the number of boxes that the other person is carrying until they’re huffing and wobbling around. But there’s no way Scorpia is backing out now! This is easy-peasy. The sweat on her forehead means absolutely nothing, except that maybe the air conditioner stopped working.

“Can you hold the door open for us?” Adora asks Mermista, her voice strained.

“Nope,” Mermista answers, swiftly closing the door.

“Uh,” Adora says.

“Um,” Scorpia echoes.

They give each other confused side-glances.

“Neither of you are leaving this closet until you learn how to at least pretend to like each other,” Mermista says calmly from the other side, followed by the sound of the door being locked. “I do not get paid enough to listen to you argue all the time.”

Adora sets down her boxes-- (phew, game over! Scorpia wins)-- and goes to jiggle the doorknob. “Mermista, this isn’t funny! Open the door!”

No response.

She lets out a groan and turns to Scorpia. “What was that all about, anyways?”

The totally-innocently-and-not-petty-at-all barista shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You blew up at me for no reason!”

“I had a reason! Many reasons.”

“Like what?”

“Like... I just… I don’t need you coming here and beat me at this, too!”

Adora pauses for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Scorpia mutters. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to compete with you...”

So Adora asks the big question, “Is this... about Catra?”

“No!!! I mean, sort of! But not really! I just… ugh...” Scorpia sinks to the ground, cupping the sides of her face with her hands. “I’m over all of that-- really!’

Well, guess it’s out there now. If she dies in this cafe storage room, it might as well be with an honest heart.

Although things didn’t work out between her and Catra, she really is over it!

What she’s not over is how jealous Adora made her feel. Even if Catra and Adora are only friends, it didn’t feel great to be compared to someone... even if she herself was the one doing the comparison.

Scorpia tries to explain, “It’s more like... I don’t like being reminded that you’re better than me, ok? I know that it’s not a competition, but for some reason, I still feel like I’m always competing with you!”

Adora stays silent, unsure of what to say.

“You’re really amazing,” Scorpia admits. Her cheeks redden. “I know you are, but you don’t have to rub it in…”

After a few moments of sitting in the awkward silence, Adora crouches down with her. “If we’re being honest… I think you’re more amazing than I could ever be.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, I do!” Adora insists. “I know we haven’t gotten along after the drama with Catra happened, but... I think you’re a good person! You’re strong, you’re loyal, and you genuinely care about people… You do kind things because you want to, not because anyone expects you to! I don’t even know if I can say the same for me...“

“Oh, uh…” Scorpia wasn’t expecting this. If she hadn’t been blushing already, she definitely was now. After all, Adora’s an honest person. She wouldn’t have said all of that if she didn’t mean it.

“It’s never been a competition,” Adora assures her.

Scorpia lets out a slow, shaky laugh. “... Ok, I might have been letting the past get to me. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’ll get over it, I promise!”

Adora smiles at her. “Sooo does this mean that we’re friends now? Or at least friendly coworkers?”

“At least friendly coworkers,” Scorpia agrees with a grin.

Adora stands up, offering her hand to help Scorpia up as well. “Now let’s get out of here!”

She helps Scorpia up knocks on the door again.

… Still no response. Uh oh.

“Uh… Mermista?” Adora calls out.

Scorpia wonders, “It was almost closing time when we came back here… She wouldn’t leave us in here overnight, would she?”

Oh no… she totally would. Scorpia can’t die in a coffee storage closet! She had so many plans! Who is going to water her plants? Who is going to inherit her motorcycle? Who will take over the duty of writing her signature coffee cup messages???

“I’m going to break the door down,” Adora announces.

“Wait, I don’t know if that’s the best idea--” Scorpia beings to tell her, but Adora is already preparing to throw herself at the door.

With a mighty battle cry, Adora rushes towards the door, shoulder braced for impact-- but just before she hits the wood, the door swings open to the other side.

“Whoa there!” Scorpia lunges forward to catch Adora before she falls onto the floor. Who’s the hero now, huh?

“Two things,” Mermista says.

“One, you’re not supposed to use your shoulder; you’re supposed to kick. You would know this already if you read Mer-mystery: The Vanishing Clownfish, like I told you to many many times.

“Two, I am not getting my pay docked because two idiots broke the door.”

/ / / / /

It’s been a month, and work has been great! Once Scorpia let go of her gay pettiness, she and Adora have been getting along really well. She can’t believe that she used to hate her!

That isn’t to say that Adora doesn’t have her annoying moments-- she does-- but Scorpia feels like she’s learned a lot more about her. Once Adora gets more comfortable, she actually has a very silly, fun side.

Like she does this really cute thing where she puts weird emphasis on some of the drink orders when she calls them out, like frapPUcciNO-- wait, cute? Uh. Scorpia meant funny. Funny and not adorable at all.

Oh no. Not again.

Scorpia is finishing up a latte and sorting out her thoughts, when she notices Adora walking in through the front door.

“Oh, hey, Adora! Are you working today?”

“Hey, Scorpia! Ah, about that…” Adora says, “I came here to tell you that I’m quitting.”

“Aw, man… Really?”

“I got a promotion at my other job,” Adora explains. “They gave me a lot more hours, so I don’t have enough time to work this one, too...”

“I didn’t even know you had another job!” Scorpia gawks. She hopes that Adora hadn’t been overworking herself this entire time. “But... congratulations!”

“Thanks! So... we can still be friends, right?”

“Of course!” Scorpia affirms.

She’s happy for Adora, but she can also feel her heart sinking. A few weeks ago, she wished that Adora would quit-- but now... it’s heartbreaking. Talk about a one-eighty. She and Adora had the start of a beautiful friendship going on, and it sucks that it might come to an end.

And now, after realizing how much she’s going to miss all of the time she’s spent with Adora...

Scorpia also realizes something important.

“... Can I get you some coffee?” she asks Adora. “On the house!”

Adora grins back. “Sure!”

Alright. Here is it. Possibly the most important coffee cup message that she has ever written in her entire life! Gotta make it good!

Her heart is pounding, and she writes out:

For Adora, the best coworker I’ve ever had! (Don’t tell Mermista! )

(Also, want to go on a d hang ou maybe if you’re at all interested we could go out sometime? Together?)

#she ra winter gift exchange #she ra secret santa #adorpia #scorpiadora #scorpia #adora #words

54 notes · View notes

newt--x · 4 years

Text

Hey everyone, or at least to those who will read it.

You must know about COVID-19 and the different measures that have been taken, in most countries affected.

In France, it's been taken really seriously, but too late. As of yesterday, there were 17 thousand deaths. On March 24th, there were "only" a thousand.

Due to that, schools have been closed a month ago. The whole country is on official quarantine, and schools will be the first to open back on 11th May.

The thing is, I'm not good in class. I'm actually failing most my subjects.

I've been trying to do better, but it didn't last three days.

I will now try to change that. Yes, I want to go to a professionnal high school, which will be centered around fashion, but I still want to get good grades.

In the first few months, I actually had excellent grades everywhere. Out of 20, in all subjects, I had over 16. It got down to 10.

It keeps getting down and down and I refuse to let it happen.

I may not need it, but I do want to make them better.

Okay, but why telling this? What's your point?

I'm leaving this blog. For some time. Until quarantine is over, which should be on the 11th, but might be later.

I have a studyblr on which I will be active (as I said, I'm leaving this blog), @overcaffeinated-adhder, but don't expect newt--x to be as active as it was. I have an app timer, and turns out I use this app from 2 to 6 hours a day. How can I be productive if I spend all my time here?

You will still see posts on this blog. I have a long queue and I plan on queue-ing new posts if it runs out, but that's all. So I won't answer asks (not that I'm getting them often) and submissions, nor send them.

Even on my studyblr, I'm now setting a 1h30 timer, and will try to stay under this limit.

I could do the same with this blog. I planned on doing the same. I tried to.

But I get distracted so easily by all the posts that I ignore my timer and put in a longer time, until I'm back at my old habits.

Anyway, if you know how to contact me elsewhere (Discord, for an example), I'll still answer calls and texts as much and often as I can, as they don't distract me the way Tumblr does.

I'm going to tag the people I interact with the most, just so y'all know: @bat-boye @astarwithhismoon @artisticly-lost-in-space @teddy-is-lost @a-fox-in-the-woods @wish-ful-thinking513 @guiltyidealist @endertrender @chibu-ouo, I may have forgotten people though. My memory sucks.

Hmm,, so.

To a next time everyone! 💕

#newt's stuff #newt's important stuff #long post

11 notes · View notes

kittensjonsa · 5 years

Text

Otherwise, Engaged

The Proposal AU

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

—

Chapter 3

The trip back down to her floor was riddled with questions and confusion. Was there a plan she wasn’t informed about? A memo she missed?

Soon, Sansa found herself standing in front of Jon as he sat back down at his desk and whistled away, flipping through some manuscripts.

“I’m sorry… but what just happened? We’re not gonna talk about it?” Sansa had to ask.

Jon briefly glanced at her and then back to the manuscripts. “About what?”

“There… back in Mr Mormont’s office. Is there something I should know?”

Jon sighed and put down what he was trying to read. “Exactly what I said. We’re engaged.”

“Umm no we’re not. I’m your assistant.”

Jon sighed. “Not for long you won’t. You don’t think the second Aliser takes over, that you’ll still be working here? You’ll be out on the street by lunchtime with a box of your stuff.”

Sansa still didn’t understand. “And why would Aliser take over? Unless… you’re leaving.”

“I hope not. Listen, Sansa. My visa application was rejected. Because I’m Dornish by birth. Great leadership you have here banning a state just because they both couldn’t see eye to eye.”

WHAT THE HELL?

Sansa wanted to tear her hair out. “And what has that got to do with you and me being engaged Jon?”

Jon sat up at Sansa calling him by his first name. She rarely did so and he didn’t like it. But then again he deserved it, perhaps more than just a stink eye. For what he was about to do next.

“Look, Sansa. Here’s the deal. You and me, we’re engaged. We’ll file an fiance visa so I can continue doing what I do here. As long as I’m here, you have a job. And me, not here? You can kiss your dreams of touching people’s lives with your written word goodbye. Because you won’t have a job in any publishing house anywhere in the city. Unless you’re into those website blog thingies but I’m guessing they don’t pay enough to cover your rent. Is that clear enough for you?” Jon simplified it for her.

It was the harsh truth. As much as he’d like for her to soar and make something of herself, he was too proud to admit he didn’t want to lose Sansa as an assistant. She was perfect for him, intelligent, hardworking and sweet; and truth be told, they were in too deep. She knew everything about him and it was just so much easier having her around. He was just too comfortable with her by his side. Losing her would be losing a right arm. Jon wasn’t ready to give up just yet. It was a long shot but he vowed he’d make good on his end of the deal. Now… If only she’ll say yes.

Sansa needed to sit down, her legs were jelly. No, she wouldn’t agree to this. Why should she? She didn’t even like him to begin with.

“But…but.. it’s illegal. I could go to federal prison, Jon!”

Jon sighed and rested his head in his hands. “You won’t because we’ll get through it. Please, just trust me on this okay?”

Sansa drifted off in a daze back to her desk, still trying to comprehend what transpired moments ago. It was that uneasy feeling of dread, right in the pit of her stomach.

As usual lunch was a mad dash with Jon, though they both had their sandwiches in utter uncomfortable silence. She had nothing to say to him and vice versa. Until he told their driver to make a stop at the immigration office.

“What are we doing here?” Sansa asked zipping past the snaking lines following after him. Jon held up a folder and waved for attention from an officer. He had cut the queue and went straight to the front. Typical.

“Good day, officer. I’d like to file this fiancé visa please,” Jon requested politely yet ignoring the angry stares directed at them from everyone else waiting in line.

The officer rolled his eyes and shook his head at them as he flipped open the folder.

“Jon Snow? Please come with me.”

Jon gave Sansa a smug smile she wanted to punch right off his face but as usual she did not, and followed him to the office they were led to. After all, she was his fiancée. She’d play along for now, buying time, while she strategized a plan out of this soon to be hell.

They were led to a small office, bare with only a table and a few chairs. Certainly felt like an interrogation room, like the ones she had seen in cop movies. As the both sat down in silence, the door opened.

“Ah yes, sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Mr Qyburn and I’d just like to ask a few questions, if that’s all right,” a mousy gentleman entered, greeting them.

“You must be Jon Snow.. and you’re Sansa Stark?” he asked both of them.

“Yes, right on the nose,” Jon answered cheerfully, which was uncomfortably out of character for him, Sansa observed.

Qyburn leaned back as he eyed the forms Jon had submitted with interest. Suspicion, more like as Sansa watched him.

“Well, well. Fiancé visa. So, you’re engaged. Congratulations. When’s the big day?” Qyburn asked as he closed the folder.

Jon shrugged. “Haven’t decided yet but soon definitely.”

Qyburn only smiled. “Before we begin, I’d just like to ask - that this engagement is real and has nothing to do with Jon’s work visa being denied, is it? Because if I do find out that all this is just a sham, we’re looking at imprisonment. Five years minimum and a fifty thousand dollar fine. I just want to make it clear to everyone right here right now.”

Sansa glanced at Jon who was still smiling at Qyburn, playing the happy doting fiancé. I am going to kill him.

“Miss Stark?”

Sansa sighed. “Yes, we’re aware. And yes, we’re engaged.”

Qyburn’s brows shot up. “I see. How long have you known each other?”

“Three years.” Jon and Sansa looked at each other as they both said the exact same thing. So far, so good. It wasn’t a lie, they both knew that.

Qyburn continued. “And here it says, you’re his assistant, Miss Stark. Co-workers? Do your bosses know about this ? Is it allowed?”

Oh, he’s a pro. Shit.

Jon smiled at Sansa. “Well, as far as I know, I haven’t heard from the legal department since we told them. And yeah, everyone knows. It’s been such a relief, finally sharing this wonderful news.”

Liar. Sansa looked down and saw how her knuckles had turned white from gripping the seat of her chair.

“Oh really? Great. So, both your families know? I’m sure they’re ecstatic. Engagement parties and all that.”

Jon shook his head. “I wish. Nope. Both parents died when I was 16. No brothers or sisters either. Just me.”

Qyburn nodded and turned to Sansa. Her mind was blank.

“Yeah but we haven’t told them yet. We will this weekend. It’s my Gramp’s birthday weekend.”

“Oh how nice. And where’s that?” Qyburn asked Jon. And waited for Jon to answer.

Jon chuckled. “Oh, she makes all the plans. I… just go along. Tell him, sweetie.” Sansa rolled her eyes. Clever.

Well, Jon knew he wasn’t lying. Sansa did make all his plans.

“They’re up North. In Winterfell.”

“W-Winterfell.” Sansa heard Jon repeat after her. Sansa could feel Jon’s stare, those eyes laser-ing through the side of her head. Well, whether he liked or not, Sansa hadn’t shared much about herself or any details of her life, in all of the three years she was working for him. How could she, it wasn’t as if he was the least bit interested. It was always ‘Jon Snow this, Jon Snow that or Sansa do this or Sansa do that’.

“Must be nice. I’m sure your family will be excited to learn that you’re engaged now.”

Sansa sighed. “More than excited I’m sure. I mean, with the engagement.. and my promotion.”

Jon coughed nervously, clearing his throat. “Promotion?” Sansa knew that warranted another stare from her boss but she couldn’t care less. She’ll broker a deal once this interview was done. Not going down without a fight.

“Well, I mean that’s why we didn’t want to share it too soon because we’re co workers and with my promotion coming up. I mean, it would look bad. Right, honey?” Sansa played along, giving Jon’s arm a good firm squeeze. It was a warning squeeze. She was in on it too, but on her terms. Sansa was going to make it very clear.

Qyburn watched them both with amused interest but Sansa could sense his suspicion growing by the minute, by the way his eyes darted from her to Jon.

I cannot go to jail for this.

“Wow, okay. So, that’s that then. I don’t think we have the time for all the questions but I will call on you, you know pay a visit - maybe speak to your neighbours, colleagues, kind of get to know you both a little bit from other people. You know, just to make sure both your stories add up.”

Jon and Sansa glanced at each other. “Sure,” they both said.

“Good. Then we’ll be meeting again. We’ll be in touch.” Qyburn stood up and led them to the door. Sansa almost couldn’t stand out of sheer anxiety, but she smiled politely back and left the room with Jon.

Sansa didn’t feel like heading back to the office. She needed to clear her head. The engagement suprise, the interview with Qyburn, Jon coming for Gramp’s 80th, telling her parents she’s suddenly engaged- she needed a drink to process all of it.

“Promotion eh? Nice touch. Good one, Sansa.”

“I meant it.” Sansa had enough excitement for today. And she certainly had enough of Jon. She needed the day off.

“What do you mean? That’s never going to happen.”

Sansa glared at him in disbelief. “Were you not in that room? Did 'five years in prison’ mean nothing to you?”

“Well, yeah but it’s not like-”

“Oh no. You want your goddamned visa? You’re going to need me. And if I’m in on this, we’re going to do it on my terms. We clear?”

Jon put his phone away. “All right. What are they?”

“Make me editor. Fire Aliser, I’ll take his place. You know how hard I’ve worked. I want his office and my own assistant. And a pay raise.”

Jon scoffed at her demands. “That’s some serious ransom, young lady. I mean, maybe I could pull some strings but I can’t promise-”

“Uh huh. Okay. Then, we’re done here. Good-bye Jon.” That was it, Sansa couldn’t risk going to prison for a man who only gave her nightmares.

“Wait! Okay, fine. All of that, fine. I’ll see what I can do. Let’s just… do this okay?”

“Okay good. But you need to ask me nicely first. You didn’t ask. It’s very ungentlemanly of you.” Sansa was on a roll. She quite liked having power over him, finally calling the shots. Not how she would’ve liked but she’ll enjoy it just the same.

“What do you mean ask you nicely?”

“Ask me to marry you. Propose.”

“You mean right here? Now?” Jon looked around the busy intersection.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

Jon sighed. “Fine. Sansa, marry me?”

Sansa crossed her arms disapprovingly. “That was the worst proposal in the world. Do it properly.”

Sansa was definitely trying his patience but he had newfound admiration for her now. Plucky lass.

“Sansa, my dear sweet little bird Sansa, would you pretty please with cherries on top, marry me?” Jon finally asked, on a bended knee no less. He looked ridiculous but gasps and applause were audibly heard nearby. At least it looked real.

Sansa searched Jon’s face as he waited for her answer. It was fake proposal but the words had a slight effect on her still. This was not how she imagined being proposed to. And especially not by Jon.

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm but yes, I’ll marry you. See you at the airport at 8 am tomorrow. And I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #the proposal au #modern jonsa au #fave movies #jon is a dick in this one but he'll get better i promise

58 notes · View notes

cottonblush · 5 years

Text

blooming days | pjs

❧ word count: 3,418

❧ genre: floof

❧ notes: i kinda hate this?? but it’s whatever. i’ll be working on more bulleted list scenarios soon (hopefully lmao). i have my ap stats test tomorrow and i literally feel like i’ll get a 1 even though i got 5s on my practice tests but imma go crazy anyway. also i started bujo-ing my ideas for my fics and i have these cute stickers that remind me of hamtaro!! anyway, i hope everyone has a nice day and is happy and healthy. don’t forget to drink lots of water. i actually started drinking it more often and i feel a lot better! ty for coming to my ted talk! if anyone has any upcoming exams, good luck! uh also p.s: i probably spelled some stuff wrong but several of my reference sites were saying different things. p.p.s: this is unedited whoops

❧ parts: planting, budding, ---

The bustling sounds of the city slowly fade into background noise as Jisung finds his way back home after work, one foot slowly being placed in front of the other to form a peaceful saunter. He stops when he reaches an intersection not too far away from his street, eyes coming to rest on the soft glow of the neon sign that the neighborhood ramen shop has recently added. The light emanating from the quaint little restaurant is one of the few light sources that dots the street this late on a cold, wintry night as this one.

“It won’t hurt to get some on the way,” the boy mutters to himself, already stepping into the small, warmly lit restaurant, as if he would have needed any convincing in the first place.

He’s greeted by the familiar face of the ahjussi who owns the place. Eyes quickly scanning over the menu, he settles on the newest item that the store has to offer: fire noodles. He tells the older man what he would like, figuring it’ll be just like the processed noodles sold at the store he works at, before he strolls over to his usual seat by the window.

The young man turns around to resume people-watching the many teens and adults getting home at this time as well, releasing a soft sigh, placing his head in his left hand, and drumming his fingers against the soft skin of his face. The sun is setting, the last rays of marmalade tinted light streaming through the window. Jisung takes this time to remind himself that this is the part where Jaemin would tell him to take a selfie and get that “golden hour glow.” He almost does, but at that moment, a bowl of steaming noodles covered in a glistening, ruby colored sauce is placed in front of him.

The owner warily says when he finally comes around with the noodles, “It’s pretty spicy, just so you know.” However, Jisung brushes this off, telling the gentleman that he’s used to spicy food, and digs in, enjoying the familiar tingling feeling on his tongue that fire noodles tend to bring. The wet, pink muscle peaks out of his mouth and lap up any sauce that happens to escape.

After a while, the dull tingling turns into a burning sting all over Jisung’s mouth and salty tears start to well up in his eyes. Before he knows it, Jisung is full-on crying with ears full of the sounds of his own sniffles and doesn’t even notice the old lady that comes up to sit next to him.

The woman looks to be in her upper 60’s and when she gently pats Jisung’s shoulder to provide a sense of comfort, he recognizes her as the owner of the flower shop just next door. She rests her chin in her other hand and lets out a dreamy sigh. “Ah, I remember the feeling of young love,” she says.

This makes the young man turn to her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. He tries to explain, tone flustered and face quickly turning a bright shade of red, “I think you’re misunderstanding the situation. I’m not in-”

“Nonsense,” she replies, “I know just by the look on your face. You were thinking about someone special, weren’t you? And you were looking at those pretty gardenias in that vase. Everyone knows that’s the symbol for a secret love. Have you not told them yet? I think it’s best to just rip off the band-aid and get it over with, in my experience at least.”

Jisung wants to tell the lady that kids don’t just memorize the meanings of flowers, but he thinks that one: that might discourage her seeing as she runs a flower shop and seems to care a lot about it, and two: it’s a little rude. Instead, he puts on a calm façade and reassures her, “There really has been a misunderstanding here. I wasn’t really looking at those flowers on purpose. And I just ate some spicy noodles, so it looked like I was crying.”

The old lady slowly gets up and hums, “Whatever you say,” before going to place her own order. Jisung takes this as his queue to leave and gathers his things. Just before he places a hand on the door, he takes one last glance at the little flowers in the clear vase, wondering if maybe the lady is on to something.

It clearly sticks with him because later that night as he lays in his bed, covers pulled up and lights turned off, Jisung can’t seem to take his mind off the pretty white blossoms. For some reason, your face comes to mind, unknowingly bringing a small smile to his visage. His eyes slowly flutter shut, little memories of you playing against the back of his lids as if he’s in a dark movie theater watching a montage of the two of you.

Halloween is quickly approaching, now less than a week away, and the gang (Jisung, you, Chenle, Haechan, and Renjun) has decided to get some pumpkins from a farm not too far away from town. As soon as you arrive, you and Haechan run ahead of the others, both trying to find the perfect pumpkin.

Jisung, on the other hand, chooses to take his time, leisurely walking alongside Chenle and Renjun as they discuss something about Chinese traditions around this time of the year. The leaves started to fall the week before, so for each step that Jisung takes, he hears a satisfying crunch beneath his shoes. The weather is still fairly pleasant, not yet to the point where you can see your breath in the air.

Sauntering through the gates to the pumpkin patch, the kids are greeted by the sight of rows upon rows of vibrant orange pumpkins, some small and cute, others larger and optimal for carving. Not even a couple of minutes in, everyone hears a high pitched yelp and looks over to find that Chenle has managed to trip on literally nothing but air, ending up face down on the ground and crushing several mini pumpkins beneath him. Renjun can’t help but snicker, leaving Jisung to help the poor, pouting boy back up to his feet.

Jisung is in the middle of helping Chenle wipe pumpkin guts off his shirt (that’s probably worth more than all of his life savings) when he notices you and Haechan bickering out of the corner of his eye.

“Dude, I totally saw it first,” you argue.

Haechan deadpans and says, “Sure, Y/n. And I’m actually Thor from The Avengers.”

You don’t hesitate to scoff at that and say, “More like Loki.”

The two of you are in your own world, not even noticing that Jisung, Renjun, and a now clean Chenle are sitting on the ground and acting like they’re watching the final showdown in an action movie.

Haechan picks up the pumpkin you two are fighting over, one of the largest in the patch that has no blemishes at all, and sets it behind him so that he can guard it. It turns out to be the wrong move because without a moment of hesitation, you launch a roundhouse kick into his side, watching as he flails on his way down to the ground. You quickly grab the prized pumpkin and run toward the owner of the farm.

Your voice is boisterous and full of glee as you call out, “Excuse me, sir. I’d like this one!” The sound of your laugh follows soon after when you see that Haechan is hot on your tail.

It’s cheesy, but as you get farther and farther away, Jisung tries to imprint the sound your laughter into his mind, wanting to save it for whenever he is feeling down.

II.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you get yourself in these situations, Y/n,” Renjun says, mirth lacing his voice as he wraps a bandage around your ankle. You’re slouched on a stool in the nurse’s office, leaning forward so you can observe the blonde-haired boy.

Renjun is the nurse’s assistant, which means that he sees you quite often given how clumsy you are. This time, you’ve managed to twist your ankle simply walking from your class to Jisu’s so you could compare grades on a recent test. Jisung happens to be there when it happens, so he helps you over to the nurse’s office and sits next to you, carefully doting over you until Renjun arrives.

You huff and cross your arms, rebutting, “Give me a break! I’m telling you one of the tiles in the hallway is uneven. I’m not that clumsy that I just trip over the air.”

At this, Renjun coughs into his elbow, muttering, “Yes you are.”

Jisung can’t deny that he feels a little twinge of something as he sees you playfully slap Renjun’s shoulder and give him a hearty laugh. He tries to laugh along, but it turns out to be an awkward chuckle.

Renjun turns to him with lips quirked upward and says, “Dude, you don’t even know how often she comes here. I’m surprised she’s not just a pile of bones at this point.”

Feeling plenty attacked, you say, “That’s it! I’m telling the administration that the literal nurse’s assistant is out here bullying me. And next time, I’ll just suffer on my own instead of coming to you.”

When the aforementioned assistant raises his hand to pinch your cheek and tell you to stop pouting, Jisung is finally able to identify the feeling bubbling up in the pit of his stomach: envy.

III.

It’s probably well past midnight and Jisung has just fallen asleep. The sound of crickets chirping flows through the tiny opening of the window he forgot to close. His desk lamp is still on and the fan of his laptop is still softly humming. He’s woken up with a startle when the sound of his ringtone (which Chenle had recently set to the original Pokémon theme song in honor of the new movie) blares out, reverbing against the walls of his small bedroom. He’s about to throw his phone out the window when he squints at the screen and notices that it’s you and it’s a facetime video call.

The video is blurry at first, but the sound of your voice as his name falls from your lips in a shaky sigh is surprisingly clear. You aren’t crying, but every now and then, you let out a tiny sniffle. In addition, even with the low resolution of the video call, Jisung can see salty tears pooling up against your eyelids.

“I’m so nervous, Jisung,” you say shakily, “I don’t know what to do.”

Your phone is propped up against your wall or something on your desk, so the teen gets a full view of you as you drop your face in your hands and rub your eyes aggressively.

Jisung urges you to calm down, asking what’s wrong but being careful not to be too pushy. You explain that you feel like you’re going to fail the upcoming history test.

“I’ve tried to study, but everything is just going in one ear and out the other,” you explain.

The young man assures you that you’ll be fine, but when you shake your head and vehemently deny it, he tries a different approach. Giving you a couple of minutes to calm down, he offers to help you review for it.

And so he does. He starts from the beginning, carefully explaining each topic covered in class and making sure you’re paying attention. By the time you’ve covered the entire chapter, you’re resting your chin on your arm and gazing sleepily at your phone screen. After you’ve let out what Jisung thinks is your thousandth yawn, he tells you it’s time to sleep.

He packs away his notes and textbooks and is about to bid you goodnight when he notices that you’ve fallen asleep already. He freezes in his place, eyes not able to move from the way that your eyelashes gently fan against your cheeks and the way that several strands of hair have fallen to cover your face. He notices the heavy, dark eyebags that surround your eyes and the small amount of drool that’s already starting to escape your mouth.

Jisung quickly snaps out of his daze and presses the red button that ends the call, sitting back against his desk chair and closing his eyes. He’s much too tired to move to his bed and is probably bordering on a state of delirium, but he realizes that your face, no matter how sloppy or tired, is a sight he could get lost in any day at any time. And with that revelation, his mind descends into sleep while a soft smile rests on his lips.

IV.

Jisung is stuffing his face with cheesy tteokbokki when his phone lights up with a several new notifications.

The first one is an email from his teacher, probably a response to a question he asked the day before. The second is a reminder that he has an appointment to get a haircut in a few days. And the most recent is a snapchat notification telling him that you’ve sent him a snap.

He sets down his utensils and picks up his phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the app. Tapping on your name with the red square next to it, he’s greeted with a picture of you with a small white puppy tucked under your chin.

The caption of the picture reads, “Moomin is doing great but he misses you :(”

To add some context, Moomin is a the stray dog that you, Jisung, and Renjun found one day on the way back after school. Of course, since Renjun “found him first,” he argued that he would get to pick a name.

Not even thinking about it, Jisung takes a screenshot of the picture, heart melting just a little bit at the sight of your smiling face pressed up against Moomin. But then the ten second timer expires and he’s greeted with the sight of two blue arrows, one overlapping the other. He drops his phone and covers his face with his hands, fingers split so that he could peep at his phone. He gets a text message from you not a moment later and he thinks he’s about to get exposed. His whole form is shaking with nervousness as he checks your text.

However, Jisung literally wants to bang his head on a wall as he sees that you’ve just sent him a picture of Moomin (this time without your face in the frame) and a message that reads, “If u wanted a pic of moomin so bad you should’ve just asked lol”

Only the gods will ever know how you can be so oblivious at times, but Jisung is glad. Now, he has a cute picture of you and a cute picture of Moomin, and he’s saved himself a ton of embarrassment. He also isn’t complaining because he finds it quite endearing when you’re dense (which happens a lot).

“Jeno, have I mentioned that you and Hana would look really good together? And she’s super smart just like you!”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, you should totally ask her out or something.”

It’s another regular day, and another occasion on with you are trying to set Jeno up with one of your many friends that are head over heels for the poor boy.

“I’m not really interested in her, though. Sorry, Y/n,” Jeno says awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck.

“You haven’t even given her a chance though,” you say, knowing that you’re beginning to sound childish.

At this moment, Chenle and Jisung run up to the two of you, asking what’s up.

You explain, “Jeno keeps turning down all of the friends I try to set him up with.”

You’re expecting Chenle to at least give you a sympathetic nod or something, but he releases a loud laugh instead.

In between his chuckles, he manages to say, “Are you kidding, Y/n? Jeno and Jaemin have been dating since my Halloween party.”

“What? What the actual heck?! Jeno! How could you not tell me?”

You stomp ahead of the trio, arms folded and head facing the ground. Jisung jogs to catch up with you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and assuring you that they aren’t even that public with their relationship anyway.

You continue to sulk, asking, “Am I really that oblivious though?”

Recalling many previous experiences in which you were very much oblivious, Jisung decides it’s best not to answer, causing you to pout even more than you already are. And while Jisung thinks it’s a cute expression, he’d much rather see you smile. So he spends the rest of the day trying to cheer you up, spending the rest of his allowance on snacks at the tuck shop.

At the end of the day, his wallet is weeping and he’s never craved the red bean bun that you’re eating more than he does now, but it’s worth it to see that your spirits are lifted.

VI.

It’s the first snow of the season and the gang is out playing in the park, reveling in the fact that they have no assignments or after school classes for the day. You’re sitting on a swing, sipping some hot chocolate and swaying back and forth. You inhale deeply and let out a sigh, watching as your breath vanishes into the air.

Jaemin runs up to you and asks to try some of your drink, probably thinking it’s some type of coffee. Of course, you comply, holding your steaming steel tumbler out to the young man. He takes one sip and his nose scrunches up.

“What is that? Oh my god,” he says.

“It’s peppermint hot chocolate, Nana. Not everyone can drink coffee 24/7 like you do.”

“Peppermint?! Dude, gross. The only things that go in hot chocolate are whipped cream and cinnamon.”

You shoot Jaemin an incredulous look and ask the rest of the group, “Shut up. Peppermint is superior, right guys?”

The rest of the boys are too busy sliding down the slides or trying to make snowballs out of the thin layer of snow that’s on the ground, so the only response you get is a couple of careless shrugs.

A couple of days later, Jisung is sitting in the convenience store once again and reminiscing about the good old days like any high school student does. He remembers you saying something about peppermint and subconsciously starts perusing the store, briefly recalling that they just got a shipment of Christmas themed air fresheners.

His eyes light up when he finds the peppermint scented ones nestled at the back of the display. He grabs one and takes it to the register, trying to convince himself that he wants to make his room smell nice and not that he’s going to use it to spray on his school uniform.

However, several hours later, he finds himself spraying the canister into his closet, coating all his clothes with the soft scent of peppermint candy.

You take notice of it immediately the next day, telling Jisung that he smells really nice, and his face turns a bright vermillion.

Chenle chortles and elbows his side, saying, “Yeah, Jisung. You smell sooooo good! What is it again? Peppermint? Isn’t that a coincidence?”

Jisung proceeds to shove Chenle against a set of lockers and cover the loud-mouthed boy’s mouth with one of his hands, ignoring the way you raise an eyebrow in question of his behavior.

He’d probably die if he got found out, but he’s glad you like it and will probably continue to use his new “cologne” well into the summer seasons.

As Jisung finally descends into a state of light slumber, a warm feeling spreading across his body. It’s like he’s sitting by a fireplace wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, wearing the fancy slippers that he stole from hotel that Chenle took him to one time. It’s like the sun is shining down on his face on a cloudless day. Every memorable instance of you (which is basically every single one) is coming together, each one like a petal of a delicate flower.

He doesn’t know it yet, but that metaphorical flower will soon be in full bloom, and with it will come a realization that he may or may not be ready for.

94 notes · View notes

bebemoon · 7 months

Text

mutuals as rtw s/s 2o24 looks, pt. ii~

blubbingbeautifully | cormio, cormio, undercover, avavav

wrenling | rodarte, aniye records, luisa spagnoli

konvalia | coach, rave review, heliot emil, pressiat, enfants riches déprimés

naiadereverie | altuzarra, sportmax

bienenkiste | 3.1 phillip lim, staud, carolina herrera

zenibas | emeerree, namilia, han kjobenhavn, rave review, global fashion collective, avavav

shalott | alberta ferretti, mirror palais

vampirkaninchen | chopova lowena, alexander mcqueen, institut francais de la mode

interluxetumbra | alexander mcqueen, undercover

allthestoriescantbelies | brandon maxwell, alberta ferretti, the garment

#mutuals #ss24 #links #looks #queue-ing these out over the next few days #queue

38 notes · View notes

talesofafangirlwithadvr · 5 years

Text

March Picks

It’s already another end of the month wrap up! Man, did that go fast and as usual...yes, I did watch A LOT of TV (and movies).

Spoilers are coming...

First up is World of Dance

The dance competition show produced by Jennifer Lopez is now in it’s third season and I am so excited to be watching. It has been on my list for a while now and while I am not a dancer at all, the commercials of past seasons had always looked like something I’d like. And I have not been wrong one bit. I love the concept, the format and the judges. J-Lo, Ne-Yo, and Derek Hough are a great combination that compliment each other so well and each bring something to the competition. I also like how there are four different categories for dancers based on age group and solo or group. Right now one of my top favorites is the Crazy Eights. I definitely recommend this show if you enjoy competition shows. Add it to your queue!

Whiskey Cavalier

Usually when a TV show gets overly promoted it makes me not want to tune it in. Lately the ABC network seems to be doing this with their new shows (such as The Rookie which made me not want to watch it) as well as Whiskey Cavalier. But with Whiskey, I decided to tune in and am very happy that I did. The best way to describe this show is as a FBI agent comedy. It has action, romance and my personal favorite, humor. Usually this style of show is extremely serious, but with the added element of comedy it brings a fresher take to the already familiar narrative. Great cast of characters with good chemistry. They each bring a certain dynamic to the show. (I’m also a big fan of the theme song.) If you’re a fan of other ABC shows like Castle I would highly suggest it.

CATCHING UP

Slowly (very slowly) but surely I am starting to catch up on Arrow. Every time I feel like I’m closer to being caught up I’m still like 4 episodes behind. It might be because I’m not enjoying all story-lines this season. So I guess I’m okay with the show ending next season (as long as they do it right). Because I haven’t caught up yet I’m kind of confused how there will be a final season without Felicity as Emily Bett Rickards is leaving the show this season. Right now I’m enjoying the flash forward with William. I just discovered Mia is Felicity and Oliver’s kid but haven’t seen Felicity pregnant in the present yet. I mainly just miss the OG Team Arrow and don’t really understand why his half-sister had to come into the story. It just makes me feel like we’re replaying old seasons. (Again, I guess a reason why the show will only have one more season).

Binge-ing

My journey with Jane the Virgin has progressed!

I have quickly become OBSESSED with this show and I know I said this last month, but I seriously don’t know why I didn’t listen to everyone sooner and watch this show. In the past few episodes she had a student plagiarize while reading Pride and Prejudice and she thought she lost her manuscript when orange juice split on her laptop. I have TOTALLY been there! I’m loving all of the telenovela drama both on Ro’s show and as the overall plot. I have officially made it to season 3 and I know of big moments on the horizon and I know I’m not going to be able to take it.

RE-WATCH

The great part about a family member binge-watching a show for the first time that you’ve already watched is that you get to watch random episodes and appreciate your love for it all over again. You also get to pick up on things referenced that you missed before and see foreshadowing. Oh, it’s just all so good and I cannot wait till Game of Thrones returns in a couple of weeks. It’s going to be bittersweet to see it end, but we’ll get there when we get there. Still unsure who will sit on the iron throne, who will survive, but I do know that my love for Tryion has expanded and I will always love Davos.

At the Movies

How to Train Your Dragon 3

I have been a fan of this series since the beginning. When I heard a third movie would be coming out this year I, surprisingly, wasn’t overly thrilled. Of course, I knew I would go see it, but I wasn’t super pumped. I am happy to say that I still went to the theaters to watch it. It made me want to go back and watch the first movie all over again. While it was more emotional and I knew things had to happen (even if I didn’t want them to). I have to say that I am super thankful for the last 10 minutes/epilogue. I wouldn’t have liked the movie as much without it. If you have seen the other How to Train Your Dragons you should finish it off with the last one.

Captain Marvel

I have been waiting to write a review of Captain Marvel because despite popular opinion I didn’t love it. Things I liked: 1) Her character 2) Early SHIELD 3) The start of literally it all (so many pieces were connected as to how the Avengers Initiative begins) 4) The Stan Lee tribute and cameo was great. What didn’t work for me: 1) At times the plot felt like it dragged. I didn’t feel it pick up until about the last fourth of the movie. 2) I wanted more action scenes. Normally I feel the opposite but here I felt like they were too fast or not action packed enough. I am excited to see Captain Marvel in Endgame and to see how she works with the team. She’s been gone for a while so I’m wondering what she has been up to in all of this time.

Looking Forward to in April...

AVENGERS: ENDGAME

I’m ready. Okay, maybe I’m not mentally ready, but I secured my tickets for opening day and I CANNOT wait to see how this film defeats Thanos and brings back those who have fallen. It feels like forever ago since Infinity Wars and I am so happy that we will finally able to watch Endgame. For now I’ll just watch Infinity Wars and cry my eyes out...again.

#march tv picks #tv reviews #world of dance #whiskey cavalier #arrow #Jane the Virgin #game of thrones re-watch #how to train your dragon 3 #captain marvel #The Avengers #avengers endgame #are you ready?

17 notes · View notes

prorevenge · 6 years

Text

Hyena parrot sandpaper sounding man.

long story. tl;dr at the end.

I used to work in a shop. Where any Important person came into the building you are supposed to announce it.

The thing about our shop is that we had sooo much foot traffic we only announced our big boss. When it happened everyone in the building stands up at attention till you hear the words “At ease,”

He would be the equivalent of someone who is head of a department, like let’s say shipping in Amazon.

I worked nights, and it’s relatively quiet. My friend loved to make an effort to entertain himself by fake announcing our boss entering the building. I never ever took what he said for granted. I would always stood at attention.

He would come in every time and laugh like crazy. His laugh was piecing, like a loud dying hyena who had a pet parrot who would repeat the noise only louder. When his laugh died down he sounded like sandpaper to wood.

This went on for about 2 months. I put up with it everyday. Every time I would just give him the sarcastic “Oh man your so good, you got me!”

He was a big fan of also talking trash one of his favorite one liners between his hyena parrot sandpaper laugh was “You think I would actually announce that fool?” More ear bleeding laughter.

Now I wasn’t a real fan of our boss not many were, but it was just how strict he was. He demanded the best from us. Honestly that’s a good trait to have.

I respected our boss, and didn’t enjoy listening to hyena parrot boy trash talk the boss.

One day after he comes in, and of course he fake announces the boss. I stand up as usual. I see him walking into the office. For some reason his laugh was even worse today. Perhaps I didn’t sleep well or I woke up wrong. I have no idea what.

I had enough of his crap. “STFU your damn shit laugh and the way you talk like you have 6 dicks in your mouth. Shut the hell up damnit!”

He is taken back by this. He thinks, and says “Yo man I’m just joking with your ass. Bitch can’t take a joke.” Queue sandpaper cackle.

My blood is on fire right now, but I look at him with a straight face. “Yea you know what brooootttthhheeerrr I cant I’ll work on it.”

He gives me a suspicious look and walks into a different room. I decided then and there that I would do exactly to him what he is doing to me. Even mimic his laugh as well.

Next day I initiate. He stands up at attention I walk into the office and laugh so sarcastically I sound like a hyena with constipation. My face is beat read my eyes poped out as I stare right into his eyes.

His starts to get furious. “OHHH you thinking your a F-ing funny man huh? Is that supposed to be my laugh? Your Shit joke ain’t funny boy. You’s just a lill bitch.”

All I say is “Right.” I walk into my office, get on the computer and check my email. My direct boss sent me an email telling me to make sure my shift is squared away as the big boss is coming by next week for “Morale checks”.

I still don’t know why they called it that, but that’s what they say. My face turned into a wide smile the grinch would be jealous at the grin I had. I’m going to do this every day more than once if I can up to next week.

I become ruthless one day I think I did it five times more absurd than the last. It only took him 3 days before he stopped even standing up. Then came the massive insults. Real, real bad insults.

I can’t even repeat them. Basically the more I did it the more racist slurs he would throw around to me and towards the boss. Day before the big event.

I initiate the joke, he flys off the handle he doesn’t even give me time to walk in. He runs towards me and just starts to shout in my face. Spit flying left and right. I thought it was raining. After he is done ranting. All I say is “Ok I’ll stop.”

“ That’s right you lill bitch you might be in charge of this shift but I own this building. No N-word messes with me.”

All I could think is damn American History X over here. At this point my excitement for what’s about to happen is almost over flowing. I’m so excited I’m afraid I’m going to blow my cover.

Mind you I didn’t say a word to him about our boss coming in, and no one else on shift was willing to talk to him the last few weeks, because he is loosing his shit.

The day has comes. It’s night Im checking the window every 5 minutes for the boss arrival. Finally he shows up.

I look at Mr Hyena and tell him to get the phones I need to go outside. He scoffs his way to the desk and I start to walk away. “I’m not going to fall for your (input real messed up phrase).”

I go outside and greet our boss. I tell him it’s good to see him, and he shakes my hand. I walk into the building and make the announcement. Before the boss can say anything.

All you can hear is loud banging sound things being thrown and a ton of yelling. “You think I’m going to fall for that OP?? I’m not dumb it’s clear you were going to do some stupid BS like that. You think that lazy N-word Boss is going to ever come here.”

I should mention that our boss is African American. He came from the Ivory Coast to the USA , when he was 2 years old.

I look at my boss face, and it had the composure I have never seen before. He clears his throat and yells. “AT EASE.”

The building fall silent so quiet the dead themselves could be heard. Boss walks to the counter. The look on Hyenas face. Was worth more than than all the gold in the world. I felt like I had been starving for a month and the grandest meal was just placed in front of me.

Boss “Hello hyena how are you tonight?”

Hyena “g..go..good sir how are you.”

Boss “I’m well thanks a little tired but well.”

Hyena “Sir I’m sooo sorry I thought...”

Boss “I’m here to see how moral is going nothing more. By the looks of it it’s bad. What can I do to help?”

Unless things are real bad in your shop. One of the basic unspoken rules is,you don’t say a word to the big boss about anything. You deal with it at the lowest level possible.

OP “Sir we are ok here no problems we can’t deal with at our level.”

Boss”I see.... well if you do have anything I can fix let me know.” He walks around the building talking to the few others on shift.

He comes back to the counter. “Hyena can I talk to you in this officer over here please?”

They walk into the office and are in there for over 6 hours. Just before shift ends. The boss leaves, and Hyenas face looked drained.

He told me that no matter how many times he tried to apologize to the Boss he would get interrupted. Telling Hyena that he isn’t allowed to talk.

Boss spent 6 hours telling him different stories of African Americans who struggled to find a better life.

I don’t know many people who could have held their military bearing as well as the boss did, but it was impressive and inspiring.

The next night at work Hyena was not there. My direct boss said Hyena was moved to days no information given.

Fast forward about a month latter hyena went from E-3 to E-2 and lost his pay for 2 months. Latter dishonorably discharged, for being caught with weed and spice. The two punishments were not related.

tl:dr Friend becomes annoying and causes problems on shift. Gets caught by the boss only to be forced to listen to his stories for 6 hours. Gets demoted and eventually dishonorably discharged.

Incase you don’t know spice is artificial weed.

After that incident my shift ran perfect for a month and a half after that. The story on how all that crumbled will be my next story for you all.

(source) (story by Darigone)

#pro revenge #by Darigone #prorevenge #pro revenge stories #revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story

285 notes · View notes

yourpaljughead · 5 years

Text

okay i’m back ! secrets have been revealed, surprise vacations have been had. i’ll be queue-ing my replies and meme ask box answers so i’ve got things coming out over the next few days. i have a new verse to post, and i’ll put up a fresh plotting call in the next few days as well. thanks for sticking with me !

#→ ( there's a lot of cool chicks out there ✷ ) EULOGY GIVEN BY V // OOC #→ ( you push and you push and i’m pulling away ✷ ) YOURPALJUGHEAD — THE REVAMP

2 notes · View notes

zpetra · 5 years

Text

GP Helsinki Journal - Day 4 & 5

So, I am finally getting to this as well, it has been a while now but sorting through my pictures took me longer than I wanted and life didn’t exactly stop after Helsinki XD Please excuse.

After an incredible and tiring Saturday, I woke up after a few hours of sleep. While I had a generous window between arrival at stay and leaving the next day the excitement didn’t let me sleep. I woke up at 7 a.m, got ready, grabbed some left over sandwiches for breakfast and left to the arena shortly after 8 a.m. Since the first men’s group took the ice at 9 a.m and Keiji was in the group I had to make sure I was there on time. Luckily the line (at least when I joined) in front of the Ice Hall was fairly okay. Grabbed some water once inside and took my seat, greeting all the Japanese ladies once they arrived.

DAY 4 - Sunday

Group 1 practice - Keiji Tanaka

While I am sad he was not in the top to be in Group 2, I was also happy because now I could concentrate on him, without any further distractions (Mr. Hanyu).

I really like this costume on Keiji, he looked like a fairy-tale prince and while his practice did look wobbly here and there, especially his 3A, I was worried for him but I was rooting for him because he is a good skater and deserves good scores. I filmed his run-through and took more photos of him, he is really handsome, I have to say, also the ladies next to me said the same. So there is that. XD

Group 2 - when the TCC family walks in

Nothing can describe the sound of shutters of cameras going off when Yuzuru walks in but today he did walk in with Jun and boy.... I had an existential crisis who to film or take pictures from. I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS AMOUNT OF STRESS OKAY? I was so happy when I had both of them in frame XD

It was also incredible to watch how they navigate with the coaches, rarely did you see them standing by the boards or simply replaced each other once the other left and Brian and Ghislain had their attention on the current skater, not loosing a beat. Also I saw so much respect from Jun and Yuzu towards each other, making sure both get time to consult with their coaches, give them room on the ice. It reminded me of how Javi and Yuzu used to navigate around in the past. I had feels!!

At one point during the practice Jun choked on his water or spilled it and it ran down his chin, resulting in a giggle fest in our block, while my picture is blurry I can’t forget how embarrassed he looked and quickly made a run for it, I caught a glimpse of Brian holding back his own laughter. Jun is adorable, officially obsessed with him. Not like I wasn’t slightly biased towards him before but now, I am sold. SUPPORT THE BABE HE IS GOOD AND ADORABLE TOO!

I have to admit me filming Jun run-through was a disaster... I tried to film but also watch Yuzu and I may have lost Jun a few times, I don’t dare to re-watch the footage because WOW, I failed XD but I got a few nice shots of his jumps and I was overall happy with it, he looked good with a few mistakes and some butt-slides. I have pictures of some ice flakes on his booty, which he is trying to brush off. I APOLOGIZE.

And than there is Yuzuru Hanyu. Just like the other days I was impressed, amazed and kept swooning. My view still couldn’t be quite beaten and god... I could write an essay of everything, it was overwhelming.

THE WAIST - that’s the comment, that is all I will say. It is ridiculous and every guy who sees it has to admit he looked good.

Filmed his free run-through again and it is scary how nearly identical it is to his actual program.

Watching Yuzu do his cool-down exercise is mesmerizing. Wow. I swear there is so much to see when he is on ice, he is so expressive both when he is disappointed with a jump, the ice conditions, really everything.

Men’s Free Skate Competition

Group 1

Oh boy, it was kind of heart-breaking as the guys were falling apart. Keiji fought hard but unfortunately... it didn’t look all too good for him to podium and my worry for Jun and Yuzu grew even more. Watching Keiji in the Kiss & Cry was so sad, I tried to be loud for him as much as possible because he FOUGHT. He did well!

Group 2

I never thought I would say this but it is INCREDIBLE AWKWARD TO WATCH HIS DEMONIC LIP SYNCING... Wow. I had second hand embarrassment but I am also a person who mouths along to music on public transportation so I could also relate. It was a weird feeling. Also Jun was so chill about it, he is probably over it, used to it. I was laughing so hard.

Mr. Hanyu came for murder while Jun looked like an adorable puppy and I was dying on the inside and outside.

BABY JUN DID SO WELL, HE DID SO WELL. I WAS SO PROUD OF HIM AND GIVEN HIS HIGHS SCORE I KNEW HE WOULD PODIUM; WHICH IN SO INCREDIBLE FOR SOMEONE WHO HAS BACK-TO-BACK GP ASSIGNMENTS ON DIFFERENT CONTINENTS!!! And it turned out he was having a cold and my respect and admiration flew out of the window! I regret not having had a plush for him, next time I will do better!

And soon it was going to be this guys turn... Origin hair *drools* I am sorry but living for it.

ORIGIN COSTUME IS LIFE! I swear to God, the pictures do not do it justice, they don’t but I am happy I got a fairly good costume reveal camera roll for myself - I posted it here - BLING CITY

AND THAN MR. FUCKING HANYU SLAYED US ALL. I swear I was deaf for a moment, nor did I have voice afterwards. My fitness tracker yet again thought I was running, nope I was just that excited. I broke out in a sweat and was ready to take off my jacket because that Free was....

190.43 POINTS A NEW WORLD RECORD 297.12 COMBINED TOTAL ALSO A NEW WORLD RECORD

You do witness such incredible performances any day let alone in person. I was so damn happy I was close to tears. Followed by laughter because Yuzuru shook Pooh-san so hard in the K&C I thought he would lose his head. XD

I threw my pooh and managed to fling it into the general direction of the K&C and I hope I didn’t clonk the waiting coaches, have not seen footage so I guess I did alright? XD

I was ecstatic and so was everyone around me, the arena was shaking or at least it felt like so. Yuzuru Hanyu is incredible.

I felt a bid bad for Michal for skating after him because I felt the attention was not utterly on him but hey I was so happy I screamed for him like a madman, also he was AMAZING TOO. Group 2 slayed... aside from Boyang and Kolyada, those two had a bad day :(

THE VICTORY CEREMONY WAS SO CUTE! There is so much footage out there but it was adorable. Jun and Yuzu full on hug? Axel-ing onto the podium? Podium selfie? Michal switching to Japan because he had no flag but than got one from a fan and the crowd was so happy for him! GHISLAIN DROP THE SELFIE. The fact Jun kept his SCI flag? The way Yuzu happily shook his shoulders before his name was called.

YUZURU HANYU MAKING THE SUN JEALOUS WITH HIS SMILE. FIRST TIME HE WON HIS FIRST GP ASSIGNMENT SINCE HE GOT TO SENIORS WITH 3 WR ON TOP. BOY!!!

My cheeks were hurting and just... I have to repeat but it was incredible. Truly.

I was high on adrenaline and the Gala was meant to follow.

WTF WAS THAT GALA? I WAS DYING. IT WAS SO GOOD. The performances, naked Italians, Gaming performance feat the Russian male skaters? KEIJI!

FUCKING KEIJI TURNING UP THE CHARM AND MAKING EVERYONE SWOON. I am happy he did his smirk on the other side of the Kiss & Cry because I felt it from the distance and looking at the footage, HIS SMIRK AFTER!. He knew what he was doing that little shit. If I hear that song now all I see his Keiji charming everyone. Wow.

Helsinki gala was the best I have seen this season and I am not saying it because I was there!

It all came down to Haru Yo Koi....

I am usually not an emotional person who cries but 3 tunes in and I couldn’t see shit. Even now as I am recalling, it is such an incredible program, the softness, the elegance the meaning behind it all, his soft smiles. I didn’t intend to film but ended up taking my phone out and while miss like 20 seconds from the beginning I think I did a pretty good recording of it, for myself to enjoy. I was fighting the tears and some did fall, me not being the only one. HYK is just...beauty. It’s pure beauty.

And than during the Finale...>.> He does a LGC slide in the a fairy costume, runs his hand through his hair turning up the charm like Keiji did... wow, I felt attacked. XD I guess we also can’t have now a finale where this sunshine doesn’t get lifted. BUT HE WASN’T JUST LIFTED BY ONE BUT TWO IN A FREAKING MERMAID POSITION! OMG. HE WAS LIVING THE BEST TIME OF HIS LIFE AND I WAS LIVING FOR THAT!

After the Gala I was hurrying away, somehow catching the first tram because it was late and I had to wake a few hours later to catch my plane back home. I ended up being so high on the excitement, I barely managed to catch like 2,5 hours of sleep. T.T It was worth it and I would do it again.

DAY 5 - Monday

Queue me dragging my ass out of bed after like 2,5 hours of sleep to finish packing, double checking I didn’t leave anything behind and leave to the train station. First train to the Airport leaving at 4:18am. I was so happy I ended up taking the day free because fuck I was done. Bought myself water and coffee , ignoring the horrendous price I had to pay for it... and off I went.

Security check-in was chill which I appreciated a lot, got a few souvenirs, had expensive breakfast and more coffee. Boarding started 10min before scheduled departure... guess which plane didn’t leave on time? ON ANOTHER NOTE: Nobuaki Tanaka the sport photographer who shoots at FAOI (is responsible for a gorgeous Yuzu x Javi picture) was on my plane! I tried not to stare too much LOL. Full plane, landing late somewhere in the middle of no-where. Rolling around for ages, followed by a long bus ride... train waiting time taking ages... It was like 11am I was home and I was dead. I wouldn’t have been able to go to work afterwards.

Conclusion - Final thoughts:

IT WAS THE BEST WEEKEND OF MY ENTIRE LIFE AND BARELY ANYTHING WILL BE ABLE TO TOP THIS!!!!

I knew I will have an amazing time because I will see Yuzuru in person but I didn’t expect it all go down the way it did. Meeting so many lovely fans, the Japanese ladies giving International fans so many things, me too. Practicing my Japanese and happy it is actually any good. Watching Yuzu win his first GP assignment in a season, let alone 2 WR winning programs. Finding so many new amazing skaters I like now and want to support. It was truly amazing. Wort every single penny, lack of sleep, overflow of emotions. Best time.

Thank you to those who made it special, the members of our fangroup and people I have met in general. They all added to the experience. I know for sure that I will try to go to more events next season.

I guess all there is left to say... Until Europeans 2019 in Minsk. If anyone is going let me know! I am going to support Javi for his very last competition.

#gp helsinki 2018 #𝓅: your thoughts are your reality #yuzuru hanyu #junhwan cha #keiji tanaka

17 notes · View notes

fuzzballsheltiepants · 6 years

Text

Imagine Me and Mew

All For the Game/The Foxhole Court. Follow up to Name Games and That Cocky F*%!ing Smile. Neil greatly enjoyed getting coffee with his new friend, Andrew, until his coworkers inform him he went on a date. An existential crisis, bad googling decisions, and contemplation of his sexuality ensue. Read on AO3 if you prefer.

Neil slid into his seat and sighed at the enormous lineup of material to translate that had materialized in his inbox over the weekend. Jean glanced up at him with concern but didn’t comment. Neil sighed again, louder, when Sara popped around the corner.

“How are my favorite linguists?” she practically shouted. Both Neil and Jean cringed.

“Fine,” they chorused.

Sara leaned against Neil’s desk. “How was your weekend? Do anything fun?”

Neil shrugged. “Um, King got a urinary tract infection, so I spent the morning at the vet’s. Then I had coffee with someone before I went to trivia night.”

“Which, damn, Neil, you’re terrible at trivia,” Jeremy said, appearing on the other side of Jean. He always did that, appearing out of thin air; Neil wondered if he secretly had trapdoors in the floor or something. Or an invisibility cloak like that kid in that weird movie about wizards that Nicky had bullied him into watching.

“No shit. I told you that. I keep telling you that.”

“Wait, back up, you had coffee with someone?” Sara practically squealed. “Anyone we know?”

Mr. Rheman’s timely arrival provided Neil with a reprieve until lunch, but he knew the whole crew would descend on him for details. They did that every time he spoke two words to someone, even half the people he was interpreting for. It made no sense to him, why they cared about every simple interaction.

The only reprieve from the tedious work—Mandarin was still his weakest written language and of course Jean was useless with it—was the text he received from Andrew. free 9 tonight or 6 tomorrow

He texted back either fine and shoved his phone back in his jacket. Half the time he’d forget to eat dinner until ten or eleven at night anyway, only thinking about it when King started screaming at him for her own food.

It felt like he had barely made a dent in the queue when Jean tapped him on the shoulder for lunch. He blinked away the fuzziness of four hours looking at his computer screen and checked his phone. Andrew had sent him a restaurant name for them to meet at that night. At least he might have a little time to look up more lawyer jokes.

He had almost forgotten Sara’s shark-like interest until he approached the table in the lunch room and saw her looking at him with wide, sharp eyes. Stifling his desire to pick another table, he dropped into the chair across from her. Jean and Jeremy sat on either side of him. Surrounded.

“So, tell us all about yesterday,” Sara said, twirling her fork in her noodles.

“I told you already, I took King to the vet. I got coffee. Well, actually, I got a smoothie, then went to trivia night.”

“You said you met someone for coffee.”

“Yeah?” Neil didn’t understand the emphasis she put on met.

“Who?”

Neil still didn’t get why she cared, nor why Jeremy and even Jean were so attentive. He took a bite of his sandwich to buy himself time to puzzle it out but was unsuccessful. “Nobody you know, I met him at the vet and we decided to get coffee.”

“Ah!” Sara said, pressing her hand to her heart. “Did you hear that, Jeremy? Our baby boy is growing up.”

Jeremy grinned. “Good for you, Neil.”

“I still don’t understand that nickname,” Neil said, looking between them. “And I drink coffee every day, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. Jesus, it wasn’t even coffee.”

Jean huffed, a tiny sound, and Neil shifted his glare to him. Usually Jean was the one he could count on to dismiss the idiocy of the other two, but even he looked amused. “It’s not the coffee, you fool,” he said in French, leaving Neil even more confused.

“We’re just happy you went out on a date,” Jeremy said, taking pity on him.

“It wasn’t a date,” Neil said, “it was a smoothie.”

Sara and Jeremy exchanged looks. “Uh, did he know that it wasn’t a date?” Jeremy asked.

“Of course! Why the hell would he think it was a date? We just sat around drinking and mocking each other for an hour.”

“Oh, god,” Sara said, putting her head in her hands. “Oh, god, oh, god, that poor guy.”

Neil just looked between them with a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn’t know why Andrew would have thought it was a date; why he would even have been interested in such a thing with someone with Neil’s fucked up face, but… I doubt they’re looking at your scars. “Shit.” Shitshitshitshitshit.

Jeremy immediately picked up on his distress. “Maybe he didn’t. Walk us through it, how did it happen? You said you met at the vet?”

“Yeah,” Neil said, drawing out the syllable. “Um, there was a misunderstanding so this asshole vet assistant pulled us both into a room and while we were waiting we talked a little. Then the assistant made a snarky comment about King’s name and I, well…”

“You did what you do,” Sara supplied.

“Right. Anyway, he joined in on my side. So then we decided to get coffee.”

“How, exactly?” Neil looked at Jeremy blankly. “Like, while you were waiting, you made some comment about needing coffee and he was like, yeah, me too?”

“I gave him my number,” Neil said, feeling the heat rise in his face. “He texted me after, inviting me for a drink. I told him I don’t drink, so he suggested coffee.”

Sara laughed while Jeremy patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine.” Jeremy’s voice indicated it would not be fine. “Do you like him?”

“I don’t know,” Neil said, hearing his own agitation and drawing a slow breath to quiet it. “I mean, he’s funny, and he’s smart.” He shrugged.

“But is he hot?” Sara asked.

Neil had absolutely no idea how one even decided that. Were there some sort of set guidelines that pushed someone into the “hot” category? He wondered if there was a website that explained this sort of stuff. He’d have to google it when he got home.

“Alvarez! Knox!” Rheman barked through the lunch room door, coming to his rescue for the second time that day. “Stop torturing the new guy!”

“I’m not that new,” Neil said, but everybody ignored him.

“Why are you singling us out?” Sara asked. “Jean’s here too!”

“Because Moreau is the only mature one out of the lot of you. Get back to work!”

“Hear that?” Jean said, looking haughty as only a true Frenchman can. “I’m the mature one.”

“Fuck off,” Sara said, setting the rest of them laughing as they threw their trash away and headed back to their desks. “And you owe me ten bucks, Frenchie!” Jean flipped her off. Neil wondered what the bet had been.

After work he headed to the gym. Nicky was there, of course, greeting everyone and keeping an eye out for who needed spotters or help with the equipment. His whole face lit up when he saw Neil and he jogged over. “Hey! How’s my favorite new cat parent?”

Neil managed to keep from rolling his eyes. Nicky constantly asked after King, which he supposed made sense since he was responsible for foisting her—and her gender-bending name—upon him in the first place. “I’m fine. King has a urinary tract infection, though.”

“Oh, poor kitty.”

“She’s feeling better. I took her to the vet.”

Nicky ruffled his hair. He always tended to do that, even when it was all sweaty and gross. “Of course you did, I knew you’d take good care of her.”

Neil got on the treadmill and started running, keeping an easy pace for the first mile then upping the speed. It was one of the few guaranteed ways to clear his head, but after eight miles at a pretty good pace he still didn’t know what to do about that night. And though he was pretty sure Nicky would be all too happy to help, he also knew that absolutely, without a doubt, he would rather trust strangers on the internet than Nicky with this type of question.

Managing to escape the gym without further hair-ruffling or questions, he went home and sat with King on his lap and his laptop open on the table. Staring at the open browser screen, he tapped his fingers on his thigh for a moment until the cat decided he was trying to play and smacked his hand.

He typed What makes a guy hot into the search engine. Over ninety million results. He clicked on a few, and only ended up more confused. Pictures of shirtless men holding kittens, comments about “quiet confidence” and strange things like “rolled up sleeves” and “being able to cook.” Then there was the stuff that Neil didn’t even know what to do with, like “being gentle in bed” and “getting a boner in Target.”

Neil was not cut out for this, that much was clear.

He checked his phone, half-hoping Andrew would bail on him but no such luck. He fed King and left, giving himself plenty of time to get lost because the one-way streets in this city followed no obvious logic. The end result was he sat in his car for twenty minutes listening to Tagalog podcasts before he saw Andrew walking towards the entrance. Breathing in for a count of four, out for a count of four, he joined him.

“No sweatpants today I see,” Andrew greeted him.

Neil looked down at his suit pants. He had changed back into his work suit after showering at the gym and hadn’t thought to change again, just left his tie and jacket on the back of his couch. He looked back at Andrew, lost.

“Come on,” Andrew said with laughter in his voice, pushing through the door.

It was kind of like a burger joint, but nicer. They ended up seated in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, Andrew claiming the bench against the wall so Neil’s back was to the rest of the room. At least they were right next to an emergency exit, but he was barely able to restrain the cringe when the waitress appeared out of nowhere.

Her smile faltered for a second when she noticed Neil’s scars but she hitched it back on quickly. Somehow Neil was not surprised that Andrew ordered a milkshake. An alcoholic milkshake, but still.

Neil looked furtively at Andrew, still trying to figure out how one could determine “hotness”. Andrew had a cat; it wasn’t a kitten, but maybe that counted? His sleeves weren’t rolled up, but the waitress’s had been and Neil definitely didn’t think it was anything special. They were just arms. He didn’t know if Andrew could cook, and there was no way he was going to ask about the boner thing…

The easy rapport of the day before was gone, and Neil didn’t know how to find it. Andrew didn’t seem interested in making conversation for the sake of hearing himself talk, and Neil didn’t know what to say. How did you ask someone if you were on a date?

Andrew was watching him with what could have either been concern or irritation. Neil flinched involuntarily; he hadn’t even realized his leg was doing the bouncing thing again, vibrating the whole table. He saw Andrew’s eyes darken as a result. “Sorry. I, um.” There was no good way to explain this, either his current nerves or the fact that he had been beaten as a child for that habit. “Sorry.”

“Do you not want to be here?” Andrew asked.

It was entirely possible that in his twenty five years on the planet Neil had never met someone quite as blunt as this man, yet he still felt like he was missing pages of subtext. “No, I do. I just…” He rubbed his face, another nervous habit. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Andrew’s mouth twitched as if he were suppressing a smile. “You astonish me.”

“Oh, go to hell,” Neil said, feeling the whispers of a smile himself.

“It’s entirely possible I’m already there. What exactly is the problem here?”

It suddenly occurred to Neil that he had absolutely no good way out of this. If Andrew wasn’t gay, he could end up with a royally pissed, very short but very muscle-y man across the table from him. If he was, Neil was likely about to hurt his feelings by being completely unsure if they were dating or if he wanted them to be. And if he ran, well, that would just be embarrassing. Plus he might never stop, and he was pretty sure his FBI handlers would have something to say about that.

He settled for the truth. “My coworkers informed me that our trip to the cafe yesterday could be considered a date.”

Andrew’s expression did not change from mild amusement. ��“Oh? And what did they say about this?” He gestured to the restaurant.

“I didn’t tell them.”

“Why not?” Still no change in expression but there was a tinge of venom in his tone.

“Because they were already way too excited and I didn’t want to hear it when I don’t even know if you’re gay. Fuck, I don’t even know if I’m gay.” He suddenly remembered Sara crowing that Jean owed her money. “Oh, shit.”

“What new revelations are coming forth?” Andrew asked.

“That’s what they were betting on.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of Andrew’s spiked milkshake and Neil’s iced tea. Neil gulped half of it.

“Who was betting on what?” Andrew asked once the waitress was well out of earshot.

“Sara and Jean. After they informed me you probably thought yesterday was a date, Sara said Jean owed her ten bucks. I bet they were betting on whether or not I was gay.”

“Your coworkers need help. Or a hobby that does not involve betting on the lives of humans.” Andrew waited for a moment, then went on. “This is only a date if you want it to be one. You said yesterday you were trying to make friends, I thought that was pretty clear. But even if it wasn’t, that doesn’t matter. If it’s not a yes, it’s a no.”

Neil thought about that. He wondered if it was a general dating rule, or an Andrew rule. “That makes it a lot less complicated.”

Andrew did that thing where he arched one eyebrow but didn’t comment. Neil wondered what it was like to have one’s eyebrows trained to speak for you. Maybe it was a lawyer thing. After all, it could sway a jury but would be impossible for the court reporter to transcribe. The prosecution raised an eyebrow, conveying the stupidity of the defense. He pushed the whole thing away as ludicrous.

Neil somehow managed to get his brain online again and asked about the seminar. A conventional enough question, but Andrew answered him anyway, going on at some length about the horrors of bad lecturers and asshole classmates. He managed to convey a great deal about the individuals with very little change in facial expression, just by subtle shifts of his voice and the angle of his mouth. It was oddly engaging.

They didn’t leave until the restaurant practically kicked them out, vacuuming aggressively in their vicinity. He wished he hadn’t already used his best lawyer jokes; he wasn’t able to think of a good one when they said good-bye. King gave him an enthusiastic greeting, wrapping around his legs as if he hadn’t already fed her, and he picked her up and nestled his face in her fur. He got ready for bed with her perched on his shoulder, her little body vibrating with the force of her purr.

He set the alarm on his phone, then hovered over Andrew’s latest text, debating. Finally, he typed quickly and hit send.

How do lawyers sleep?

It took a few minutes before the phone chimed.

First I lie on one side then I lie on the other. Talk tomorrow idiot

Tomorrow. He had never gone to bed looking forward to the next day; it was just another thing to get through, to survive. But in the dim light from the streets coming through the blinds, he fell asleep with a faint smile on his lips.

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #jeremy knox #jean moreau #alvarez #nicky hemmick #king fluffkins #law student andrew #my writing #tfc #the foxhole court

142 notes · View notes