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#'i have three brothers dude...we played every day growing up'
shijiujun · 8 months
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KISEKI Dear to Me: 3.5 CPs + GANGSTER/MOB + SALT DEATH PTSD
Alright guys, temporarily bursting out of hiatus to talk about this show because DAMN if there's anything we know works in BL-land, it's like underworld AU (hello History3: Trapped and KP lmao), and even better if this underworld AU has like DILFs and two familiar actors who WERE FORCED APART in their previous roles and who knows if that'll happen again BUT!
Without further ado...
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Title: Kiseki Dear to Me, based on novel Dear to Me by Lin Peiyu Beginning: Aug. 22, 2023, 7PM (GTM+8) Episodes: 13 Total No. of CPs: THREE CONFIRMED + "childhood friends" DILFs
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CP 1: BAD BOY + GOOD STUDENT
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Fan Zherui x Bai Zongyi: Fan Zherui, 25 years old, is a gang member who turned to the gangs due to family problems, and one day when he's injured, Bai Zongyi saves him, he falls in love with him and decides to leave the gang, but things go awry when his enemy Zhang Teng (played by Wayne, see CP 3) comes after for revenge. Bai Zongyi is a good student, your cutest boy next door, who is independent and has some PTSD from when he was beaten up in the rain - meets Fan Zherui and for once realises what it means to be loved, to have someone to care for him and more. TWO MEOW MEOWS?! Anyway, Bai Zongyi, according to MDL, will take the rap for some fight for Zherui, and then end up in jail, but then very weirdly the official description says that CP 2's Eddie ends up in jail for Bai Zongyi, I'm a tad confused but WHATEVER we will find out when we watch the damn show.
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CP 2: ADOPTED SON OF GANG BOSS + CHILDHOOD "YOUNGER BROTHER" PUPPY
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Chen Yi x Eddie (Ai Di): They both grew up together with Eddie as the younger 'brother', with Chen Yi being 'adopted' by gang boss Chen Dongyang after his parents, also gang members die to protect the boss. Eddie has been chasing after him for the longest time, and has a sad family background as his parents are druggies and he was only able to grow up well under the protection of Chen Dongyang, and he only listens to Chen Yi. UNREQUITED-REQUITED love, but Eddie sees how Chen Yi feels deeply about Chen Dongyang (I don't know what that means from the description LMAO like??) and decides to leave Chen Yi, and somehow get embroiled in something and ends up in jail for Bai Zongyi. Chen Yi is only just understanding his own feelings for Eddie when Eddie literally goes to jail DOGBLOOD MUCH?! Anyway they will reunite 4 years later.
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CP 3: MY BAOBEIS?!?!?! MY LOVELIES WHO MADE US GET PTSD OVER SALT?! WILL THESE TWO GANG MEMBERS GET THEIR HAPPILY EVER AFTERS THEY BETTER FUCKING DO
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Zhang Teng x A-Jun: BOTH GANG MEMBERS if you couldn't tell from their loud af shirts and thick ass accessories LMAO omg I cannot believe how happy I am to see these two again. A-Jun is Zhang Teng's like follower??? Has been following him since he joined the gang and both fears and reveres him, and Zhang Teng is just angry ball of angst and revenge and vengeance, if you couldn't tell from Wayne's face. I cannot believe they're in a setting! WHERE THEY MIGHT NOT GET GOOD ENDINGS WAS SALT SEPARATION NOT ENOUGH TELL ME YALL
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CP 3.5: DILFS? "CHILDHOOD FRIENDS" DADS???
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Friends yall do not understand how I feel about these two uncles. IF you've ever watched Taiwan family dramas, these two, especially the one on the left Xie Chengjun, is a fucking LEGEND, he's in EVERY SINGLE FAMILY DRAMA all hundreds of episodes of them, he's literally like THE dude to idolise he's been paired up with EVERY SINGLE POPULAR GODDESS ACTRESS in Taiwan - I KID YOU NOT I GREW UP WATCHING HIM on OUR CHANNELS EVERY SINGLE DAY ACROSS 5-7 POPULAR FAM DRAMAS it's been like 20 years ISTG.
Anyway I'm NOT SURE if they are actually going to be a CP at all BUT (1) at press conference this week, these two made kissy faces at each other sooooo...?
Zhou Minglei grew up with Chen Dongyang protecting him as he was a weak and sickly child, so they're childhood friends, and he becomes super unhappy and upset that Chen Dongyang begins to protect and pays attention to Chen Yi ;-; LIKE WHAT IS THIS DESCRIPTION? Okay we could think of this professionally as like two bosses of a gang with their interests at stake BUT THE DESCRIPTION?! And ok Chen Dongyang on the right, he's obviously gang boss, and he relies on Zhou Minglei a lot to fix his problems for him. EXCUSE ME?!
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The main CPs (1 & 2) are torn apart in a particular fight, and they will reunite 4 years later LET'S SEE HOW THAT GOES THANK YOU.
500% I'll be watching this you bet your damn ass because they better give me happy ending Wayne and Junzhi THIS TIME otherwise they're seriously cursed?!?!?!? No more salt accidents fuck you writer for that ;-; AND IF THE DILF PAIRING COMES TRUE even if just bromance and meaningful side eyes, this bitch will take it.
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burkymakar · 1 year
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Alex Newhook Imagine: gratitude
Summary: Your dad works as an equipment manager for the Avalanche, and invites players to stay for Thanksgiving dinner. With the games bookending the holiday, a lot more Avalanche players are attending.  At first annoyed, you can’t help but connect to one player, Alex Newhook. Maybe this holiday dinner will be fun after all.
Word Count: 4.5k
Note: Female OC. Inspired by Ted Lasso’s “Carol of the Bells”. In this, you are Donny White’s college-aged daughter so have fun with that lol. This was supposed to be released before Thanksgiving not before *checks watch* New Year’s. Oops.
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Alex Newhook’s original plan was to spend American Thanksgiving with his girlfriend’s family in Boston, but when they broke up before the season, he didn’t really consider a replacement plan. He had fun Cup celebrations to experience, and then the season to prepare for. 
Suddenly, it was mid-November and he was about to spend Thanksgiving alone.
That worried his mom, even though they were Canadian. Paula would wring her hands on FaceTime calls and be abuzz with maternal panic about him being all alone with nothing in the Colorado cold. She tried to get him to fly to Newfoundland but he didn’t see the point in adding a three and a half hour excursion to his jetlag, even if he did miss his folks. Especially since they had to play the Canucks the day before Thanksgiving and then fly to Nashville the day after only to fly back to Colorado. 
The people in charge of NHL scheduling should be shot.
He and Bowen Byram were doing laps at their apartment complex pool since Denver was getting a random day of heat before the cold snap coming. After pushing out of the pool, Alex lamented to his buddy about this bullshit. 
“Oh dude, just go to Whitey’s thing,” he said, shaking out his hair like a golden retriever. “Don’t you remember? He invited everybody. Just text him.” 
“Are you going?” Alex toweled off before sitting with him on the lounge chairs. 
“Yeah, probably. Kails has to study for finals back in Van, and I didn’t want to fly out so I told Donny I’d go. You should come. Val said it’s fun.” 
“Val goes?”
“Yeah, I think he’s a regular, he takes his wife when she’s in town. EJ’s going for dessert,” Bo said. “Frankie takes his family, including Kauter, and Georgie said he wanted to stop by since his girlfriend is back in Finland.” 
“Okay, yeah, I’ll text Donny,” Alex said, and hopefully his mom would be assuaged.
+
You hated making pie crust, it was such a pain in the ass. Every ingredient had to be at the exact right temperature mixed the exact right way. 
But you heard from your dad that some Avalanche players could attend your family’s big Thanksgiving event, and that meant more effort. And gluten-free pie.
Back from college, you were kind of annoyed your family holiday was going to be overrun with sweaty hockey boys. Your dad even said more players than ever were going to be there this year. 
It was a typical experience for most of your childhood. Your dad, Donny White, had been working with the Avalanche organization your entire life. You spent so many nights growing up going to games and hanging out in the locker rooms and playing street hockey with the players or their kids. 
Now in your last year of college, it no longer had the same glamor it once did. They were just some guys.
You had bigger things to worry about, like your upcoming finals. And this damn pie.
“Gluten-free pie should be illegal,” You griped to your younger brother DJ, a senior in high school. 
He snickered, “We should make the good shit anyway, I bet they’d be thrilled.” “I heard that.” Your mother called from the living room, vacuuming off dog hair from the sofa. “These guys are your father’s coworkers, be respectful. No swearing tonight.” “They swear on the ice,” DJ whined. 
“And they don’t swear at the dinner table,” she said primly. 
You shared a wary look with your brother but kept your mouth shut. After the pie was done and you had showered, dinner was still two hours out. Your dad and DJ were picking up your grandfather from his retirement home. Your other brothers Jimmy and Freddy were playing Mario Kart, and you were trying to fix your hair. It was dry but not styled, and then the doorbell started ring.
“Y/N, you gotta get it!” Jimmy called to you. 
“You get it!”
“No, you get it I’m about to kill Freddy!” 
“Shit, fine,” You huff and run downstairs. Your hair is still a mess and you’re in your towel and bath robe that’s covered in cartoon pickles (a gag gift from DJ several birthdays ago) and you swing open the door, not sure who you expect to see on the other side. 
Whoever it was, you certainly didn’t expect Alex Newhook. 
He stood there politely, his eyes only flitting down briefly to see your outfit before locking eyes with you. He wore a nice outfit, a good sweater, jacket, and a black hat that wasn’t a baseball cap. He looked very dapper and cute. “Hey, uh, is Whitey, I mean Donny, here? I’m Alex.”
Your face burned with a blush but you stayed composed enough to tighten your pickle bath robe. 
“Uh, hi,” You greeted. “I’m Y/N, and no he went to pick up his dad. My grandfather, I guess.” Sentences seemed so much harder for some reason. It didn’t help that Alex Newhook was cute as hell, but it was probably just because you felt caught off guard.
“Oh, am I early?” He looked around. 
“Yeah a bit, we weren’t expecting people until 5ish,” You said.
“Shit, sorry, Bo told me 4, not 5,” he said, grabbing for his phone. He cleared his throat. “Um, I can leave-”
“You’re already here,” You pointed out needlessly. He was already here, no need to make him drive again. “And it’s kinda cold, so come in.”
He stepped inside and looked around as he shucked off his jacket. “Nice house.”
“Thanks,” You said, even though you had nothing to do with it. “My mom’s getting ready, and Dad’s out.” You did not want him to follow you upstairs. Wait, you could pawn him off on your brothers. “Let me introduce you to everyone.” 
You walked him to the living room where they were playing Mario Kart loudly.
“Hey, pause it,” You said. They ignored you, so you turned off the console.
They immediately burst into an uproar but you were used to that.
“This is Alex Newhook,” You introduced. “Alex, these are my brothers, Jimmy and Freddy.”
“Wait, you won the Stanley Cup!” Jimmy said, sitting up a bit. He was the one most interested in hockey in your family besides your dad. “Wow, that’s so cool.” 
“Thanks, man,” Alex sat down next to him. “Your dad was really helpful with the run.”
Freddy didn’t care. “Do you like Mario Kart?” “Heck yeah.”
Since he seemed to be fine, you quickly snuck back to your room. You didn’t want to be babysitting a hockey player anyway.
+
Alex Newhook was abandoned by the cute girl wearing pickles with two pre-teens. Well, he liked kids so he wasn’t too put off. 
“Who do you drive as?” One of the brothers, he didn’t really get a chance to differentiate them, asked.
“I usually do Yoshi. When I play with my sister, she’s always Peach.”
“Y/N is always Peach too,” the smaller brother said. “I’m always Toad, and Jimmy is Luigi. DJ is always Mario ‘cause he’s the oldest.”
“Makes sense,” Alex said, committing to memory that the small one was Freddy and the taller one was Jimmy. “Can I play?”
“Sure!” They gave him a controller and got him set up.
Some time later, he’d gotten his ass thoroughly beat in Mario Kart twice before Y/N came down again. Now, she was wearing a nice sweater with black jeans. Your legs were really long and he should not be staring at the daughter of an equipment manager’s legs like this.
“Y/N, come join us!”
“I told Mom I’d help with the mashed potatoes,” You said. “But it looks like you’re having fun with Alex.”
“He’s awful,” Freddy said.
Alex laughed as you turned to him, eyebrow raised. 
“You don’t have to let them win, you know.” 
“I’m not,” he admitted, and Y/N finally smiled. It was a really pretty smile.
“Well, then you guys should let Alex win.”
“He already won the Stanley Cup,” Freddy whined. 
Alex choked on a laugh, “Fair, totally fair.” 
+
You were about to head back to the kitchen when a new voice called.
“Are you two still playing Mario Kart-” Your mom came down the stairs while putting in an earring. She paused at the foot of the stairs and noticed the four of you. “Oh, hello Alex.”
He looked unnerved but still charming. “Hello, Mrs. White.”
“Alex got told the wrong time,” You interjected before your mom asked for answers. “So I had the boys keep him company.”
“Oh, good. Well I’m sorry Alex, but I’m glad you made it!” She continued. “I’m Carol, Donny’s wife. Do you need anything, water, food?”
“I’m all set, thank you, Mrs. White.” 
“Carol is fine,” she waved a hand to dismiss his formality. “This won’t be some crazy strict dinner. I’m just a bit thrown, we’ve never had so many people from the team attend! Y/N, can you please help with the mashed potatoes?”
“Yeah, of course.” You walked over to the kitchen and went to get started.
“Can I help at all? I’m not much of a cook but I’m good at chopping.”
You went to deflect but your mom interjected, “Oh, that would be so helpful! Why don’t you help Y/N peel the potatoes.”
“Are the boys not going to help at all?” You asked.
“DJ is in charge of the green beans,” your mom said. “But J and F would just make a mess and we can’t have that.” 
You rolled your eyes but you did agree. They were still pretty young to be given kitchen responsibilities, especially since your mom was clearly nervous about all the people attending. Apparently, the Captain Landeskog and the good defenseman Cale were coming after dinner, bringing their families. So was EJ, who always snuck you candy when you were growing up, and the two Czech players.
But for the dinner, there was the new goalie, Valeri Nichushkin, the other rookie, and the new guy. You only knew Val’s name because he’s attended the past two Thanksgivings. That’s a lot of important people your dad works with, so you wanted to help.
You didn’t really like having a sous chef, and was afraid Alex would be underfoot. But he was actually really helpful. You were able to chat. He was about your age and also went to college, but had dropped out of his sophomore year, but commiserated with you about the experience and finals, and asked about you instead of just talking about himself.
“Do you think you’ll go back to school at some point?” You asked as you started on the sweet potatoes. To accommodate the healthy, they were having both mashed regular potatoes and mashed sweet potatoes which meant so much peeling and two burners for boiling the taters. 
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m really happy doing hockey right now and it needs all my focus. But I liked college. My old teammate, Jack Johnson, went back to school and graduated this year. He’s, like, ancient so I might do that later on.”
“Always good to have the option,” You agreed and let the potatoes boil so they could soften. You started mixing half and half, butter, cream cheese and garlic in a large saucepan and put it on a low simmer.
“What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s the mix I use thicken up the mashed potatoes and make them creamy,” You rolled your head side to side to relax your neck. “Better if it’s warm.” He nodded. “Thanks for the help.”
“Of course, thanks for having me,” he smiled and it was a really cute smile. 
Thankfully, before you could dwell on it, he went back to your kid brothers, and your dad and other brother came by with your grandfather. The last half hour before the party was a fervent rush to find seating, set up the candles, make sure there was no evidence of living in this house. 
Eventually, people started showing up. First was Evan Rodrigues, his wife Christina and his kids Grayson and Noah. They were younger than your youngest brother, but they got on immediately, giggling and laughing and running around in the backyard even with the slight chill in the air. 
Christina brought some gluten free rolls and really nice bottles of wine, and Evan and your dad immediately went off to the TV to watch the game, talking about their fantasy football teams. 
Alexandar Georgiev, the new goalie, arrived soon after. He also brought wine and a really nice bottle of vodka for “if we party.” You loved him already.
Then Bowen Byram came, bringing two store bought apple pies and flowers for your mom. Your dad had mentioned he was injured, but he looked fine walking around. But you weren’t an expert.
“You told me the wrong time, idiot,” Newy lightly elbowed him and you bit back a smile.
Bowen huffed. “My finger slipped, di-uhhhhhhh dude,” his friend avoided swearing even though all young ears were outside.
“Well, Alex was really helpful,” You offered as you potted the flowers for your mom since she was busy plating the food with Christine. 
“Was he now?” Bowen raised his eyebrows at Alex, so Alex elbowed him with more heft this time. 
“We wanna play Nerf!” Jimmy ran back in with the other kids trailing on his heels. “Y/N, can we play Nerf?”
“Ask mom, go away,” You said. “I have to finish the potatoes and make whipped cream.” Also this was a really cute outfit and you didn’t want it to get ruined.
“Please!” Freddy whined. “You’ve been in the kitchen for-evvvvvvveerrrrrrrr.” Impressive how many syllables he made that word. Alex and Bowen just snorted. 
“I gotta keep cooking because you’d find a way to burn the whipped cream.”
Apparently not too heartbroken, they immediately turned to Alex and Bowen. “Please, Newy and Bo, please!” 
The two young hockey players readily agreed. “But you guys better have weapons, I left mine back in Canada,” Alex said, and they ran upstairs, a stampede of boys.
“I guess what they say about hockey players just being tall boys is true,” You mused aloud as you head back to the kitchen. 
 Christine laughed as you “Oh trust me, if you’re lucky, that’s the case,” she said. “Also, Nerfs are fun, Grayson adores them.” 
Before you could reply, the stampede came back down again, this time armed with plastic toy weapons and cackling with gleeful laughter. 
“Take those downstairs, I don’t want any darts on the first floor!” Your mom called, and you were taken back to your childhood in a very sweet way as the four of you ran around playing and laughing.
Smiling to yourself, you finished your mashed potatoes and went to get started on the whipped cream, but the doorbell rang.
You went to grab it, because a football-obsessed cheer and groan reverberated from the living room. 
“Sorry for late. I stop by Russian bakery and grab Kartoshka,” Valeri held up a box. 
“All good,” You assured. “Come on in. Everyone’s watching football.”
He nodded and followed you into the kitchen where he greeted your mom. 
“Hello,” he greeted and set the box down. “I go watch football.”
“Sounds good,” You said and got the whipped cream put together. You made it the best in your entire family.
That should be the last of the interruptions. You went to go put out some more snacks in the living room but heard raucous laughter before getting hit with a dart on your shoulder blade.
You whipped around and saw Alex and Jimmy behind you, frozen in guilt but weapons still raised. The rest of the herd of boys stormed up after, promptly 
A Nerf dart laid at your feet. 
“Sorry, Y/N,” Alex said. It looked like he meant it but he was also about to laugh, the giggles pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“Can I borrow that?” You asked Jimmy.
Since Jimmy adored you, he handed you the Nerf gun.
You stepped back a bit since you weren’t a total bitch, and shot Alex Newhook dead center. 
+
Alex Newhook admired how Y/N just immediately gave it back instead of complaining, not moving as the dart hit him and bounced off his chest. Once it hit the floor, he dramatically grabbed at his heart and staggered backwards. “Ah, I’ve been hit! Write sonnets about my bravery!” Then he collapsed on a heap to the floor. 
He heard Y/N’s voice amongst the laughter of all the boys before Mrs. White called out, “Dinner’s ready! Everyone to the dining room.”
“C’mon, drama queen,” Bowen helped him up. “We’ll write songs to you later.”
There were all these little name cards set up. There were five seats at the kid’s table, including DJ who joined the Nerf battle late. 
But Alex was sitting next to you. 
There were a lot of people, so everyone was all scrunched up. His thigh often found itself resting against yours, but you never pulled away so he didn’t either. The conversations were lively, jumping around the Denver housing market and football and TV shows. Mrs. White nixed all talk of hockey, saying it was a holiday and therefore a vacation. But the conversation never dwindled. 
Val was on Y/N’s other side, and he watched as you made a concerted effort to include him and speak slowly enough he could understand. He joined those conversations when he could, but also talked to Erod about the culture shock of moving to Denver and going from college hockey to NHL hockey.
The food was delicious, but he made sure to not eat so much with the game the next day. But he did have some of the apple pie (it’s a FRUIT) with your whipped cream. Holy hell it was good.
Bo and Val didn’t have the worry of playing tomorrow, the injured bastards, and they had two servings of dessert. Once they were full-contact, he was going to hit them into the boards during their practices.
The kids table seemed like they were having fun. Once the food coma took over, all the kids piled into the living room as the others arrived. 
Gabe Landeskog gave Y/N a big hug, and you got to hug Luke and pinch his cheeks as Linnea practically climbed up his own leg. He had no idea how you knew everybody. 
EJ arrived a bit later, carrying three bottles of Screaming Eagle. Like the captain, he gave you a hug and joked about your height. Cale came by with his girlfriend shortly after. He loved talking to her, she was always kind. Cale was quiet and respectful, but he and Donny got into an in-depth discussion on which quarterback they should start for fantasy.
Frankie ended up texting they weren’t going to make it but he sends his best. 
The conversations continued and split and converged. More dessert was eaten. Some of the kids curled up in the guest bedroom to nap. Georgiev and Val spoke in Russian, but joined the others as well. Carol, Gabe, and DJ spoke about the latest episode of White Lotus. Mel, EJ, Christine, and Bo talked about the price differences of wine. 
You and Alex spoke mostly about crazy college courses you took, and weird essay topics you had to write. Cale jumped in at that point, discussing his own essays. 
It was fun to be involved in the convos, even though the topics seemed kind of distant. They spoke of dating and moving and trades, and the housing market (again?!). He was single and in the same apartment complex the team had provided for him. 
Just when Alex thought he should maybe get going and not overstay his welcome, you turned to him. “C’mon, we’ll go to the kids table and go to our next tradition.”
“What’s that?” He asked, the two of you breaking off from the conversation. 
“We play hide and seek,” You said. “It’s cutthroat. You may not survive.”
He grinned, sated and full but always down to compete. “Sounds fun.” He turned to Bo. “Wanna play?”
“Hell yeah.” 
Alex, Y/N, Bo, and DJ snuck off to see the kids watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving. “C’mon, kiddos,” Y/N muted the show. “We’re gonna play Hide and Seek. Wanna play?”
The kids perked up. Linnea and Luke were already asleep, as was Noah, but Grayson was ready to play even though he was younger than 5.  
Y/N knelt down to their seated level. “Okay, we got some rules though. You all willing to play by the rules?” The kids nodded ever so seriously. Alex couldn’t help but grin. 
“You guys playing Hide and Seek again?” EJ came by. “I wanna play.”
“You don’t play by the rules,” Y/N said. 
EJ wrapped you in a bear hug and a weird, sudden stab of jealousy sliced at Alex that he immediately pushed down. That came out of nowhere. Besides, you were, like, ten years younger than the big defenseman.
“I’ll behave I swear.” 
“Doubt it,” Alex and Bo muttered at the same time before they all shared a laugh.
“Here are the rules,” Y/N began, your voice commanding but kind for all the kids. “You can hide anywhere in the house except a bedroom. If a room has a bed in it, you can’t hide there. No locking doors, you hide fair and square. No moving spots once the five minutes has passed. The seeker has to wait five minutes before taking off to find people. Once you’re found by the seeker, you join them in the search. If you’re found last or not found within an hour, you win and the winner gets ice cream.”
“Who’s the seeker?” Bo asked.
“EJ should do it, he’s the oldest,” DJ said. 
“Works for me, I’m too tall to fit where you kiddos can,” EJ said. 
“And you broke our cabinet last year,” Y/N added. Alex laughed in shock.
“Accidentally,” he clarified then paused. “Hey wait, as the seeker don’t I get ice cream?” “You can get ice cream,” You placated.
“We probably don’t need it,” Alex said. “Game tomorrow, bud.” 
EJ groaned. “Ugh fair, I’m taking mine to go.” He pulled out his phone and set up a five minute timer. “And... go!” 
And everyone took off. 
+
You booked it down to the basement, the smartest place to hide. You couldn’t hide in the guest bedroom as per rules, but you could hide in the large steam shower in the bathroom. With the lights off, you’d be nothing more than a shadow. And maybe people would dismiss it as being close to the bedroom. Most people went for cabinets and closets. Jimmy usually hid in the DVD and board game closet on the first floor. But you tried to change it up. Last year, you hid under a stack of blankets in the laundry room and were only found because your Duolingo notification happened when your dad was the seeker. 
To make sure you’d stay in the dark, you quickly undid the three light bulbs and hid them in the 
You put your phone on it’s darkest brightness and sat with your back against the wall with the door on it so you wouldn’t be seen. You knew from course reading that people looked for eyes in the darkness so you used that to your advantage. 
Just as you felt settled you found the perfect spot and that EJ would be too stupid to find you as the minutes counted down, the door burst open before shutting quickly. You closed your phone, and tried to quiet your breathing.
The lightswitch flicked on and off uselessly and the sauna door opened. 
Alex Newhook peeked his head in and went to make a sound. Acting on pure instinct, you slapped your hand over his mouth and pulled him into the steam shower. 
“Hi,” he said once you removed your hand. His smile was lazy and good-natured. “Wasn’t expecting that.”
“Hide and Seek is serious,” You said, slightly sheepish. “You’ll have to hide with me, we’re almost out of time.”
“Works with me.” He sat across from you. There was less than three feet between you so the whisper carried. “Smart move to take out the bulbs, you’re ruthless.”
You smiled at him then realized he probably couldn’t see you. “Thanks.”
His low chuckle was bright in the darkness. 
“Do you think EJ is gonna cheat?” You found yourself asking.
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Alex acknowledged. “He’s a competitive bastard. We all are.” 
“Probably best in your line of work,” You acknowledged back. In the distance, there was maniacal laughter and one of your brothers shouting “NO!” dejectedly. You went quiet, and so did Alex.
Once the noise quieted down, you pulled out your phone with the brightness still low and checked Instagram. Your college roommate sent you a ridiculous AITA post so you chuckled as you read it.
“What’s so funny?” 
“An ‘Am I The Asshole’ about this 100,000 dollar wedding dress getting destroyed for a TikTok.”
His laugh was shocked and quick. “Holy shit, can I see?”
You nodded and he moved over to sit next to you on the bench. He read over your shoulder, and you watched his reaction in the faint glow of your phone screen. 
He turned to you, “That was funny-” and then cut off as your faces bumped into each other. 
“It was,” You whispered, not just because of the game. 
Not exactly sure who made the first move, you both leaned forward and met in the middle. The kiss was sudden but deep and you quickly clutched onto his sweater as his hand cupped your jaw. His hand was big, sturdy and warm as it gently held you to him.
Your fingers tightened on his sweater and he pulled you closer. Without thinking, you climbed onto his lap and his other hand moved to your hip as a low groan rumbled from his throat.
The door to the steam shower slammed open, and you and Alex pulled apart.
Erik Johnson stared at the two of you as you froze in fear, and then he snorted. “Oh boy, you’re dead, Al.” His laugh followed him out of the room, shutting the door to the bathroom behind him.
“Well, we were found.” Alex pointed out slowly. “So I guess we lost. Which may not be the only thing I lose tonight if he’s right.” 
You tried not to laugh. EJ maybe had a point. Your dad could kill him for making out with his daughter at their Thanksgiving party, but he wasn’t one of those shotgun dads. He knew you were an adult, a woman with bodily autonomy. 
“I wasn’t that interested in playing the game anymore,” You said.
“Me neither,” he said and kissed you again.
Note: thank you for reading! masterlist here!
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barbiegirldream · 2 years
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who are the main characters of assassins creed? like i know there is a modern day bit but who is the main assassin?
you have just asked my favorite question ever okay every game (mostly) focuses on different characters. i will put it under the cut for you !
The first Assassin's Creed follows Atlaïr a Syrian Assassin who lived during the 12th and 13th century. He was tasked with finding an apple of eden (ancient civilization weapon) but his hubris ended up getting his brothers (other creed members) in trouble. His rival Malik lost an arm and Malik's brother (by blood this time) died. the game follows Altaïr's redemption and the realization that their master set them up and is a templar (the bad guys who want to use the apples of eden to destroy the world)
The next few games follow who is really considered the staple of the franchise an assassin named Ezio Auditore. He was a Florentine nobleman alive during the height of the Italian Renaissance. He has like a lot of games. Lots of fun historical figures in his games.
The next few games will focus on the Kenway Legacy. AC III focuses on Connor Kenway an Indigenous Man who fought in the American Revolution. If you ever hear a "where is charles lee" meme it's about Connor. You learn in the game Connor's father is a british templar named Haytham.
Okay and the next game AC IV is about Connor's grandfather and Haytham's father, Edward Kenway. A Welsh Pirate who kills an assassin, commits identity theft, and ends up becoming an assassin anyways.
In between here there is some shit ass game with this guy named Shay Cormac who was an assassin but thinks they kill to many people so he joins the templars and kills more people. it doesn't make any sense and Shay is my least favorite character ever. But he's like relevant or whatever.
Then from there we get the saddest and wettest of all assassin's, Arno Dorian. A French Nobleman who grows up to watch the French Revolution occur. Shay Cormac killed his dad as a boy and then he grew up with this other family and loved their daughter Elise. And Elise would grow up to be a templar. Arno would get thrown in the bastille with another assassin who would teach him to be an assassin. Arno ends up killing that dude for sucking. and also one of Arno's besties becomes Napoleon. Elise dies at the end and Arno stays sad and pathetic forever :(
Okay then! We have Assassin's Creed Syndicate. This game features two characters you can switch between Evie and Jacob Frye. Twins! Their father was an assassin who died shortly before the start of the game. Living in northern England they are freshly twenty years old and wish to prove themselves so they rush down to London to free the city from Templar Control. There is an assassin there from India Henry Green who was trained by their father as well. The three of them free the city. Evie falls in love with Henry. Jacob realizes he's bisexual. Evie moves to India. Jacob adopts and raises Jack the Ripper. You know how it goes.
Next is Origins which like as it sounds is about the Origins of the creed. Bayek is an Egyptian Medjay (warrior healer) during the Roman occupation of Eygpt. His son is murdered by a cult that will one day become the templars. He and his wife split off to seek revenge. They come together again to form this creed but their relationship tapers off.
Then it’s Odyssey and canon the protagonist is Kassandra but if you hate women you can play as her brother Alexios too. But basically Kassandra is Spartan and her dad goes all crazy and tries to kill Alexios as a baby. Kassandra tries to intervene and they get thrown down a mountain. She loses Alexios and he’s abducted by some crazy cult. Kassandra washes up on an island and is raised to be a mercenary. Later you find your whole family and the choices are up to you. You can kill your father but that closes off the later path of your step brother (his adopted son) accepting you as family. Then you find Alexios and try and bring him home your choices affect this outcome too. And then you find your mother and try and save her. You can have every member of your family or some combination or none. Depends on you 
Then we have Valhalla. You play as Eivor. Again girl or boy. It’s interesting gender dynamics because historically Eivor was biologically female but possessed by the spirit of Odin who is male. Anyways you as a child are attacked by a wolf it’s crazy your parents die. A neighboring tribal leader takes you in. You grow up next to your big brother Sigurd (possessed by Thor). Best part in the later game is when you get to cuck him and sleep with his wife Randvi. Basically you leave Norway for England and establish your home there that’s like it. But the two assassins there who you work with are named Basim and Hytham. Basim is possessed by Loki. 
The next game is going to be Mirage. Taking place 30 years earlier in Baghdad featuring Basim! It’ll be good to finally play an assassin again
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phoenixyfriend · 3 years
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Uncle Ben and Little Luke
AKA we combine several types of time travel for maximum Soft Chaos, let’s go
EDIT NOW THAT I’VE WRITTEN THIS UP: jfc this ended up much angstier than initially intended uhhhhhhhhhh sorry
So a common enough thing I’ve seen in time travel fics is characters getting de-aged when tossed back physically, to neither the age they should be in that time, nor the age they were from the time they left, but whatever is most convenient. This is usually de-aging OT Obi-Wan into his TCW self, for reasons relating to, chiefly, removing the damage of Tatooine absolutely destroying his body alongside PTSD-driven alcoholism, but also because fic writers are horny, and Ewan McGregor playing a late-thirties negotiator is on average more appealing to people than Alec Guinness playing a vaguely feral desert hermit.
So, here’s how it plays out:
We take Luke and Ben from some point in the OT. There are a variety of options depending on how angsty we want it to be. My first instinct is ‘right after Owen and Beru die’ but I want to have that sweet angst where Luke knows that his dad is Vader and that Obi-Wan was trying to convince him to kill his own father without telling him that.
We’ll go with shortly after Bespin, and then they end up significantly before TPM. The Obi-Wan of the timeline proper is, eh, let’s say eighteen. Not really ready to be a knight, but old enough that we don’t have to worry about “if we go save Shmi, do we somehow wipe out Anakin?” which is absolutely a worry. Anakin is a toddler, and is in no place to be evil, on account of being literally two years old. He can’t even explode people with his brain yet.
Now, Ben finds himself mid-thirties, as is traditional. He’s not upset at this, because his joints hurt so much less than they used to! His knees aren’t exactly teenage-perfect, but by the Force are they better than they were in the years before he died! His hair has color! He doesn’t have arthritis! And, goodness, no physical withdrawal symptoms! The psychological aspect is still there, but nonetheless, he’s in much better shape than he last remembers being.
Luke looks like he’s about six. He was recently twenty-two. This is not an upgrade. Ben keeps having to carry him. He can’t see over the counter when they enter a bar for information. He can’t enter the bar in the first place. He’s very annoyed by all of this.
Ben is not annoyed. Ben is having a lot of emotions, actually, but annoyance isn’t one of them. He didn’t get to help raise Luke the way he might have if Anakin hadn’t lost his shit, okay, he sees a small Luke and he wants to hug him and cry.
Luke would like to be able to purchase a speeder part without the lady at the stall asking him if he needs his “dad’s” permission.
Once they figure out when and where they are, they need to decide where and how to leave. There are general shenanigans to gamble their way into enough money to hire a ship. They are in the ass end of nowhere, but definitely not Tatooine. There appears to be a jungle. There appears to be a significant variety of man-eating creatures. There appears to be a temple to the Force of questionable origin. None of this is actually helpful, except for the moment they find a “baby’s first lightsaber” in the temple.
Luke only has one hand and, being a six-year-old, his body is growing too fast for him to bother with getting a wired-in prosthesis the way he could as an adult. He can get a more basic prosthesis, but nothing that attaches to the neurons. He’ll outgrow it too fast.
He’s tiny and he’s not used to doing things with just one hand. He uses the Force to do what one hand can't, and every time someone tries to tell him he's misusing the Force he whaps them with the empty sleeve.
So, you know, they find out what year it is. Ben has a breakdown. Luke is upset that he left behind his friends. Ben admits to him that Leia was his twin. Luke stares in horror because dude, she kissed him, you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier???
Ben points out that Beru and Owen were keeping Luke away from him for nineteen years, and then they had about three days of awkward travel to find Leia in the first place, and then Ben died. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure out how to tell him.
(This sparks an argument that lasts several days. All onlookers assume that Ben’s son is throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t correct them, even though this is a very valid reason to be upset, because the truth is much harder to explain.)
Sooooo they travel. Mostly, Ben plays Sabacc, cleans house, and pays their way towards Coruscant. Luke still really wants to learn to be a Proper Jedi, even though Ben is pretty sure that Luke would have... a lot of difference of opinion with the Temple, but sure. Coruscant. They can at least stop by, and see Qui-Gon, and Mace, and Quinlan, and Bant, and everyone else that’s still alive and not tragically deceased in the horror following the start of the Clone Wars and then the birth of the Empire, and Ben can have a nice sob over all his dead friends being alive again.
Ben is only barely holding it together while Luke is in the room with him at any given point. But it’s fine! It’s fine. He’s fine. All of his loved ones have come back to life! It’s great! HE’S FINE.
He is not fine.
Luke is also grieving all the people who haven’t been born yet, but he’s... significantly more okay than Ben is.
The closer they get to the Core, the more often people just assume Ben is Luke’s father, and then look shocked and uncomfortable when Luke flatly calls him by his name, and they just... compromise. This is the point at which Luke starts calling him “Uncle Ben.”
Ben cries in his bunk later that night. Luke overhears it and wonders how the HELL Ben is more unstable now, when there’s a chance to fix things and no Vader or Empire trying to kill or capture both of them, and all his friends are alive.
(Luke will later learn a lot about PTSD and realize this is actually a fairly normal situation, to process significant events and emotions only after gaining safety or catharsis.)
(Twenty years on a ball of sand with an alcohol addiction and debilitating fear of the man you raised as your own brother is not, in fact, safe or cathartic.)
At any rate, they’ve settled into that pattern by the time they reach the Inner Rim. The Inner Rim is the part of the galaxy at which they’ve collected enough money (and mental stability) to travel a little better, and to take a few more risks.
Risks like “manipulate people with those baby blues.”
Ben tells Luke that he’s a menace, after he pouts so cutely that he gets a free scarf added on to a purchase that Ben makes. Luke responds that Ben has no room to talk, since he flirted a free breakfast out of that one inn owner.
Also, Luke is currently physically six. That is objectively a situation that sucks. He deserves to use it for all it’s worth if he’s stuck like this.
“You know, if you keep wearing all-black and looking longingly at the velvet cape and Space Chanel boots, the temple is going to worry that you’re a darksider.”
“Uncle Ben... you told me, yesterday, that I sparkle so brightly in the Force that it’s almost blinding.”
“Yes, but the gloves--”
They don’t agree on this, but Ben relents. He does actually understand good fashion, unfortunately, and he’s not unaware of how much Leia taught Luke about such things.
Luke’s about forty years ahead of the curve, of course, but Skywalkers are prone to such things. It’s usually in regards to technology, granted, but...
They get to Coruscant. Ben is very obviously a Jedi. He knows all the right words and walks like a Soresu master and feels warm and comforting in the Force. They let him in with minimal questions. They note down “my first padawan left the order to have a child, but died shortly after; I consider Luke here to be my nephew, and have raised him as such,” and move on.
Luke is vaguely annoyed because he already had an uncle (and aunt) that raised him, but he admits that a person can have more than one uncle. He can live with this. Ben was more family to Anakin than Owen was, in some ways, so it’s kind of true. Luke is even working on feeling more childish affection for Ben instead of the complicated mess of emotions that come from being lied to about some very large and important subjects, and then seeing the person saying those lies have regular emotional breakdowns due to something as small as Luke saying he likes the curve of the hull on that freighter.
(Apparently he sounds just like his father did as a child. This is almost heartwarming.)
The thing is! The thing. The thing is, they almost make it to the Halls of Healing to get looked over for weird viruses, or Outer Rim Parasites, or whatever the hells needs to be happening. They almost make it without Ben having a flashback to dead younglings or brainwashed troopers or the declaration of a Sith Empire. They almost make it without incident.
Then Ben sees Qui-Gon, and freezes, and does not move again.
Luke cannot get him to restart.
People are staring.
They haven’t even made it to Medical, Uncle Ben, come on.
Young, local Obi-Wan comes over and asks if there’s something he can do to help. Or maybe this “Ben” knows Qui-Gon? Master Jinn doesn’t recognize Ben, but maybe Luke knows more?
Luke does know more, but what Luke actually says is “he probably needs a mind healer.”
(Ben will not appreciate this.)
(Ben is unfortunately standing in the middle of the hallway and completely unresponsive, and is unable to argue with this assertion.)
(Ben is pretty much proving this assertion entirely correct, actually.)
Obi-Wan is helpful, if a little bitchy in the manner of most late-teens individuals, and offers to help get Uncle Ben down to the Halls of Healing. It involves Obi-Wan gently pushing on Ben’s shoulders, and Qui-Gon offering to carry Luke so he can be in Ben’s sights (because Ben is a Mystery, and Qui-Gon is quite fond of those, so he wants to stay involved). Ben kind of just... shuffles on down.
There are medical tests. They ask about how Luke lost his hand. He refuses to talk about it. They ask how Ben got all his scars. Luke says he doesn’t know. They ask if he knows why Ben looks like he’s been through a war. Luke says it’s because he probably was.
They check for foreign viruses. They find evidence of thus-far-unpatented vaccinations. They ask Luke if he knows what he’s vaccinated for.
“How would I know? I’m six.”
They agree that this is a good excuse.
(It is not. He’s lying. They do not know this.)
They do some more tests. They find a lot of questionable medical bullshit in Ben’s body. Most of this is from the clone wars, but they don’t know this. Someone realizes they haven’t gotten a ping back from the Shadow Network regarding “do we have permission to pull the medical file of a Jedi that isn’t in the normal database? We’re assuming you know who he is, since we don’t.”
The Shadow Network does not know who Ben is.
The healers, of course, go “huh, that’s weird, but maybe the name he gave his nephew was fake. We can’t exactly ask ‘Ben’ for more details right now. We already had to sedate him. Let’s check the DNA!”
The DNA pulls up as Obi-Wan Kenobi.
The padawan who brought this guy in two hours ago.
“Huh, that’s weird. Let’s call in Kenobi and ask if he knows what’s going on.”
Obi-Wan absolutely does not know what’s going on.
They ask Luke.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, lying through his teeth and not even pretending otherwise.
“You’re not a very good liar,” teenage Obi-Wan tells him.
“I’m not trying to be,” Luke says. “Can you get Master Yoda? I feel like we’re going to need him.”
They normally wouldn’t get Yoda on the request of a six-year-old, but they also normally don’t have a catatonic thirty-something Jedi who looks like he’s been through a war popping up in the medical database as the pimply teenage padawan that broke his pinky trying to do a Badass Ataru Flip last week.
Or... whatever Luke i... is... oh dear.
“Young one,” Qui-Gon asks, while people whisper-shout behind him, not realizing he’s cutting the Correlian Knot and just asking the kid himself. “Do you know why your midichlorian count is so high? It’s almost unheard of.”
“Uncle Ben said my dad was the Chosen One,” Luke says, because he is capable of being a little shit and is actually really eager to let Ben deal with some of the fallout. He feels for the man, really, but he’s also tired of being the one to field every single question.
Also, the expressions that pass on Qui-Gon’s face are hilarious.
(Luke may or may not be more affected by his six-year-old brain than he would like to admit.)
“Thank you,” Qui-Gon says, sounding more than a little strangled about it.
It takes another three hours for Ben to wake up.
He listens to the questions. He hears what they say his ‘nephew’ said. He looks at Luke.
“Is this revenge for not telling you about Leia?”
“It’s not revenge,” Luke does not lie. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”
“It’s pretty easy to explain.”
“It’s not my secret.”
“This is revenge for the Leia thing.”
“No,” Luke says. “Revenge for the Leia thing was when I ate a live frog in front of you.”
This is the point at which someone interrupts and points out that they appear to be stalling.
“Oh, he is,” Luke tells them. He gestures at Ben. “I can’t tell you more, because it’s more his story than mine.”
“I’m afraid, Master, that I am very likely to have an emotional breakdown if I allow myself to consider the reality of this situation for longer than the fraction of a second I already have,” Ben reports, full of false cheer. “Suffice to say, I am far from stable and have only held out this far for Luke’s sake.”
“Can you explain why you have my DNA?” Obi-Wan asks, as the person who’s most concerningly involved in this situation.
“You can,” Ben says, smiling like there is absolutely nothing wrong in the slightest, ever. “I’m you, from the future. I actually died and spent a few years dead before coming back. I’m not sure why I’m younger than I was when I died, but I appreciate being able to put on my shoes without my knees attempting to mutiny.”
“He needs a mind healer,” Luke reiterates, in case the strained grin hasn’t made it clear. “So do I, but not as much.”
“I have felt literally every person in this Temple save for Luke and Yoda die,” Ben reports, looking a shade more manic than a few seconds earlier. “It’s very overwhelming to feel you all being alive again. I may be approaching a mental breakdown, and I’ve been rather strictly advised against using alcohol to treat my traumas again.”
Luke kicks him in the thigh. It’s not a very hard kick, because he is very small, and he does actually like Ben. “I’m not letting you turn into an old drunk again.”
After several seconds of silence, a healer quietly suggests that everyone clear the room, and asks if someone could fetch Master Yoda as the youngling requested.
(THIS IS ALMOST THREE THOUSAND WORDS. I started it less than two hours ago. Why am I like this.)
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Happier|Part Three
A/N: Here is part 3!! Sorry it had taken so long, I had gone back and forth on deciding if this would be the last part or not. I decided to make it an even four so there will be a Part Four! Hope you enjoy. It’s another chapter of angst! (What’s new) All mistakes are my own! 
Part One|Part Two
Word Count: 1800
Warnings: swearing, angst 
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You sat awkwardly between Scott and Lisa as they continued to have a conversation that you were trying your hardest to pay attention to but you were having no such luck. Your gaze and your mind kept wandering over to your best friend who was currently standing in the corner talking with a buddy. Chris’s eyes darted towards yours and you immediately diverted your eyes anywhere else. 
You had been doing this for the last two hours. Neither of you is willing to make the first move to go over and talk to each other. It had been three weeks since the incident during the girls night. Chris had texted you about twenty minutes after you left, but you didn’t respond. That became a trend for about two weeks before he just stopped texting you all together. Quite frankly you had forgotten about the bitch incident two days after the fact. But you kept telling yourself that putting space between the two of you was what you needed to get over these feelings that you just couldn’t get rid of. 
Because six months of being in a different country wasn’t space enough. 
And you know what they say: distance makes the heart grow fonder. 
But Carissa had insisted that you come to her little birthday gathering that she was having at the house. So now here you were, being completely miserable in a room full of party goers.
You turned your focus back on the other Evans’ in your life and smiled when Lisa made a joke, but still contributed very little to the conversation. 
“I’m going to go get a refill.” You wiggled your half empty cup for emphasis before excusing yourself. 
You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed the kitchen was fairly empty, only a couple that you didn’t recognize talking in the corner. You grabbed the pitcher of margaritas and filled your glass before taking a huge sip and then filling it again.
“Margaritas that good?” You spun around at the unfamiliar voice. Your face grew hot as you came face to chest with a very tall, very handsome man. His dark eyes were raised in question but his lips were settled in a knowing smirk. “Or are they just bad enough to make you forget something you don’t want to remember?” 
“A little bit of both.” You replied, taking another sip. Mystery man laughed and you smiled. He reached past you to grab his own cup to fill up. 
“I’m Marcus.” He said simply, his eyes raking up and down your body. You internally rolled your eyes but decided to play along. He was hot and you were lonely. 
“Y/N.” You held your hand out to his. “Nice to meet you.” 
“Likewise.” He smirked. 
“So how do you know Carissa?” 
“I don’t, funny enough.” He explained. “I’m here with a friend.” 
“Ahh.” You raised your eyebrow asking the silent question. 
“His name is Brady.” Marcus laughed. 
“I see.” You took another sip of your margarita, a smile hiding behind the cup. 
- - - - - - - - - - - -
You were shocked at how much fun you were having talking to Marcus. He was funny and charming and knew all the things to say to make you blush and yet you couldn’t help that your eyes would wander over to where Chris was sitting, Carissa perched on his lap. 
Your attention was snapped back to Marcus when you felt his hand rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your lips. 
“Sorry, you have a little…” He trailed off as he wiped his thumb across your parted lips. 
You were sure he was going to kiss you.
And you were sure that you might just kiss him back. 
Marcus leaned forward and you felt your eyes flutter close, anticipating the kiss. But it never came. 
“Hey.” You and Marcus both turned to see Chris stalking towards you, his eyes narrowed. 
“Hey man,” Marcus moved away and reached out his hand but Chris didn’t slow down. You watched in horror as Chris walked right up to the two of you and threw a punch hitting Marcus square in the face.
“Are you fucking crazy?” You cried out as Marcus fell to the ground clutching his nose. Chris stood over him, his shoulders rising with anger and his fists still clenched. “Chris!” His eyes snapped to yours and they softened slightly. 
“What the hell dude?” Marcus groaned from the floor. 
“I think it’s time for you to go.” Chris growled. 
Marcus stood up with the help of some other people before being escorted out of the kitchen, leaving just you and Chris and the small pool of blood on the floor. 
You looked down at Chris’s hand which was covered in blood. At first you thought it was just Marcus’s but then you realized that there was a large cut running across his knuckles. Sighing you pushed him out of the kitchen towards his bedroom and to his ensuite. 
“Sit down.” You pushed him onto the toilet before going to the cabinet where you knew the first aid kit was. “I can’t believe you.” 
“You can’t believe me?” Chris snapped. “What the hell were you doing with that guy? In my goddamn kitchen no less.” 
“We were having a conversation, you Neanderthal.” You answered, as you rinsed off his cut. Chris hissed in pain as you ran an alcohol wipe over his knuckle. 
“Looked like more than that.” 
“So what if it was, Chris. And if I remember correctly, it was only a couple weeks ago that you and Carissa were telling me to get out there and meet someone.” You raised your eyebrow slightly. 
“She said that, not me.” Chris looked away from you. 
“So what? I’m just supposed to stay single? Is that it? I’m not good enough for your friends? Or do you really think that there’s no one out there that can be with me?” 
Chris’s eyes snapped to yours, the blue darkening. “First of all that jackass is not my friend. And second of all, I didn’t say that. If anything you are too good for the losers out there. You’re too good for anybody.” 
“Well then who?  Who gets the Chris Evans stamp of approval? Please tell me, so I can go and find him.”
“I don’t know! Just not that guy.” Chris stood up towering over you. 
“God, you know you are so fucking annoying.” You pushed against his chest as you turned to walk away from him.  “I’m just trying to be happy. Why can’t you just let me be happy?” 
“You’re going to be happy with that jerkoff?” Chris stepped closer to you. He pulled you back towards him, spinning you around so that you were looking at him. He lifted your chin so you were eye to eye. “You think that guy is the one that’s going to give you everything that you need? That you deserve?” 
“Well the guy that I want I can’t have, so I guess he’ll have to do.” Your heart fluttered as you realized just how close you and Chris had gotten. Your noses were touching and your lips just a breath away from each other. Chris leaned forward slightly, his mouth open but no words coming out. 
“I’m sorry.” Chris sighed, his head dropping. 
“For what? Punching out the first guy to take interest in me or calling me a bitch?” 
Chris winced, his eyes full of regret. He looked like he was about to respond when a voice interrupted the both of you. 
“Chris? Y/N?” You and Chris immediately separated at the sound of Scott’s voice echoing through the bedroom and into the bathroom. 
“In here.” Chris cleared his throat as he called out to his brother. 
“Jesus Christ, Chris. What was that?” Scott threw his hands up. “Carissa is pissed.” 
“I know. I just…” Chris trailed off as he cast a sideways glance in your direction. You refused to look at him, only focusing on the pattern of the floor tile. Chris let out a sigh as he rubbed his face with his good hand. “I’ll go talk to her. Where is she?” 
“Last I saw she stepped outside to check on the guy you fucking decked.” 
Chris just nodded, looking at you once more before brushing past Scott and out the door. 
You and Scott stood there in silence. 
“So how long?” He asked, finally breaking the void.
You looked up at the younger Evans brother, whose hands were now on his hips. 
“What?” 
“How long are you and my idiot older brother going to pretend that you aren’t madly in love with each other.” 
Your heart dropped to your stomach at Scott’s words. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You stated incredulously. 
“I’m talking about the fact that my brother basically broke some poor guy’s nose for even looking in your direction. Or how you guys have been looking at each other like forlorn lovers this entire night.” 
You turned your head away. 
“It’s not like that, Scott.” You whispered. “He’s my-he doesn’t look at me like that.” 
“Sweetheart, are you dumb or are you stupid.” Scott’s words held a joking air to them. He stepped closer to you and took your hands in his. “You should tell him how you feel.” 
“Scott, stop.” Your eyes blurred with tears. “I love him, he’s my best friend and I’m not willing to lose his friendship over a stupid crush that will eventually go away.” 
“Honey, if it hasn’t gone away in the last five years it’s not going away anytime soon.” 
You stared at him with wide eyes as you processed what he said. 
“You think I didn’t know this whole time? Hell, I think the only person who didn’t know was Chris.” 
“Oh god.” You groaned, dropping your head. You were officially embarrassed. Had it really been that obvious for so long? 
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, honey.” Scott soothed as he  grabbed your hands. 
“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come anyway.” You mumbled as you pulled away from Scott. 
“Y/N...you don’t have to leave.” 
“Yes I do.” You shook your head, refusing to look at him. You booked it out of the room and down the hallway, making every effort to avoid anyone and everyone. You walked out to your car and paused as you noticed Chris and Carissa standing by the side of the house. You tried to walk by without them noticing you but as you heard Carissa’s voice call out to you. You had a choice: stop and talk to her or walk the five steps to your car and leave the night behind you. 
Before you could truly over think you rushed to your car, got in and drove off. 
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titan-fodder · 3 years
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Prima Vista Part III
[ previous ]
Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader
Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so. 
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Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.
 You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored. 
 He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.
 He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status. 
 Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy. 
 He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.
 Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”
 You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”
 “What do you mean?”
 You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”
 “Are you calling him a predator?”
 You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”
 Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”
 “A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”
 “Sounds about right.”
 “I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”
 “Even him perving on you?”
 “Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”
 Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”
 You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”
 Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do. 
 “A little.”
 You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”
 Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.
 “Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”
 He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”
 The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him. 
 “Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”
 Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.” 
 You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.
 Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”
 That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.
 *
 “Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.
 “Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.
 You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.
 “It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”
 “That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”
 Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”
 Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”
 “Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?" 
 All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”
 Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”
 Fuck yes. Half the battle is won. 
 “Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”
 You snort. “Try again.”
 “Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”
 “Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”
 Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—
 “I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”
 You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”
 “Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”
 “Holy shit.”
 Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”
 “I guess.”
 This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.
 Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable. 
 These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group. 
 It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands. 
 “Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped." 
 “Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.  
 Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”
 You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”
 “Ah, of course he did.”
 Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks. 
 “Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”
 Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”
 The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.  
 “Glad to hear it.”
 The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit. 
 “You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”
 He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.
 “Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”
 “That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”
 “Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”
 Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before. 
 It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game. 
 You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.
 You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom. 
 “You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.
 You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”
 “It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”
 “Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”
 It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience. 
 He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire. 
 You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick. 
 “Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”
 That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs. 
 “Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”
 “Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.
 Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”
 You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”
 He chuckles, “You know it.” 
 Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.
 He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head. 
 “You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.
 “Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”
 Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.
 “Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”
 “I have a refractory period, you know.”
 You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”
 Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower. 
 *
It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality. 
 The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well. 
 But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.
 He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.
 “I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time. 
 He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”
 “So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”
 “I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”
 You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”
 Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”
 Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”
 It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him. 
 You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time. 
 “No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”
 You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”
 He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things. 
 Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips. 
 “We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”
 He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible. 
 It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.
 In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.
 “Have you and Erwin made up yet?”
 Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”
 “The hell does that mean?”
 “It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”
 You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”
 It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.
 And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.
 *
 Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning. 
 Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall. 
 “Is Erwin here?” You ask.
 Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before. 
 “Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”
 “Cool, thanks.”
 “You know which one it is?”
 Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”
 The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.
 You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.
 It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.
 “Uh, hey?”
 “Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”
 Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”
 His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.
 “Studying?” You question.
 “Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did). 
 “Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.
 Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move. 
 “So, what’s going on?”
 Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks. 
 “You need to make up with Mike.”
 Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”
 “Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”
 “Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”
 “Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”
 “Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”
 “Don’t say that.”
 “It’s true,” he smirks.
 You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”
 Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.
 “So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds. 
 You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”
 His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”
 You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”
 Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil. 
 In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls. 
 Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile. 
 “You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away. 
 “Jesus, what is wrong with you?”
 This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.
 “Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”
 Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did. 
 “You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”
 He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate. 
 Are you calling him a predator?
 He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea. 
 “You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”
 The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”
 You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.
 “Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”
 “Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”
 Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response. 
 But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."
 He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."
 And, so you do. 
 "Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"
 "So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious. 
 You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.  
 "I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."
 "I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"
 "Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick. 
 "You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up. 
 "No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare. 
 And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike. 
 Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?" 
 "Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—
 And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours. 
 Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you. 
 Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"
 You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).
 He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"
 "No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."
 Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.
 He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"
 "Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?" 
 "I… I don't know. You just—"
 "Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"
 "Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic. 
 "Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."
 Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt. 
 "Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."
 "Yeah, okay," he nods.
 You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.
 That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess. 
 Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from. 
*
"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him. 
 "What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."
 He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows. 
 "Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."
 He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to. 
 Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike. 
 Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."
 And, of course, Mike is too smart for that. 
 "Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."
 "I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night. 
 Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?" 
 The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin. 
 Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to. 
 Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out. 
 "I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.
 You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him. 
 He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college. 
 The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this. 
 "Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him. 
 You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing. 
  "Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks." 
 "What're your plans?" 
 You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek. 
 When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort. 
 And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—
 "Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."
 "Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."
 You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind. 
 Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them. 
 "I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."
 "Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."
 "And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"
 "I'll think about it," you stop him. 
 Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes. 
 Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'. 
 *
Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch. 
 It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs. 
 You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object. 
 It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones. 
 Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint. 
 You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to. 
 Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog. 
 A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired. 
 The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family. 
 He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money. 
 Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park. 
 You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep. 
 The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.  
 "What in the world…"
 Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house. 
 It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food. 
 "Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion. 
 Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt. 
 "Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!" 
 She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest. 
 Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug. 
 You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic. 
 What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you? 
 It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.
 "Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.
 That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"
 "Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."
 "I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."
 "Obviously not."
 He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time). 
 "I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days." 
 "I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."
 He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."
 Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”
 He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”
 “Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.
 “And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.” 
 You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."
 You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him. 
 "Yeah."
 It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead. 
 "Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.
 She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."
 "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"
 And, she's hugging you again. 
 "I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."
 You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."
 He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say. 
 "Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."
 He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."
 Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear. 
 "So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."
 "It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life." 
 Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"
 "Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off. 
 Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later. 
 Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."
 You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something. 
 The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day. 
 When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father. 
 "Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?" 
 "Dad!" 
 Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."
 You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"
 "Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."
 "Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier. 
 All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.
 Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"
 "Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle. 
 Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches. 
 You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."
 He grunts. "That makes one of us."
 Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy. 
 You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?" 
 Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."
 When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins. 
*
You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."
 She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school. 
 "Look how cute you are with braces!"
 "Please stop."
 "All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?" 
 "Mom made me."
 "You were so skinny. What happened?" 
 "Are you calling me fat?" 
 "No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."
 Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap. 
 It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his. 
 He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you. 
 Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream. 
 You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders. 
 You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. 
 He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more. 
 So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day. 
 "She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."
 "Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."
 You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."
 Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were." 
 "What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous. 
 Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."
 "We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."
 "Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?" 
 "That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."
 "We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."
 "So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?" 
 "Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."
 You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."
 Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."
 You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.
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thetravelerwrites · 3 years
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Urgan (Orc)
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Rating: Mature Relationship: Male Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Orc, Male Reader, MLM, Gay Reader, Football Captain, College, Friends to Lovers Content Warnings: Alcohol Poisoning, Children, Kids, Pregnancy, Unwanted Pregnacy, Mention of Abortion, College Drop-Out, Strong Language, Drug Use, Angst, Super Angst, ALL THE ANGST Words: 4385
A super duper angsty commission by the wonderful @severedreamerbeard​​! Urgan is the captain of his college football team and all around cool dude. He's an extremely reliable guy with his whole life ahead of him... until the woman he's been dating winds up pregnant, which turns his entire world upside down. The reader, Urgan's best friend, tries to help as much as he can while watching Urgan's life fall apart. Please reblog and leave feedback!
The Traveler's Masterlist  
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Urgan had been your best friend since preschool. You were human and he was an orc, but you were both jocks growing up, both in sports, both athletic. He’d been there with you through all the major events in your life. He was there when your parents divorced, when you came out as gay in middle school, and when the teammates who had once been friends started bullying you because of it. He was always there.
You hoped you had been as good a friend to him as he had been to you. You were there when his dad died, when his mom remarried someone he hated, and when his highschool sweetheart cheated on him. After all that, the two of you were closer than brothers.
College life was easier on both of you. You both had gotten a sports scholarship and found a friend group that was a lot of fun to hang out with. Parties were epic, classes were less so, but you were living the life and loving every second of it.
Then it changed. Not for everyone, not even for you. Or at least, it didn’t have to. You could have made different choices. It would have been far easier if you had, you were sure. But…
“How long have you been dating Kelly?” You asked him over a beer. The two of you were sitting out on the front porch of a house party currently in full swing.
“Who?” He snorted, half-asleep. He’d pulled an all-nighter the day before preparing for his psych exam.
“Kelly,” You said, pointing into the open door at the girl wearing a halter with a half-empty vodka bottle in her hand, some of which she’d spilled on her chest, grinding on another girl who was sucking the vodka off of her clavicle.
“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘dating’,” He replied, throwing back a large swig of his beer. “Fucking, yes. I’m not trying to date anyone right now. I don’t have the time.” He threw his beer bottle into a large trash barrel and stood up. “Where’s Derek? He owes me fifty bucks.”
“For what?” You asked, standing up and following him through the house. He slapped Kelly’s ass as he passed her on the way inside, and she laughed.
“I borrowed it to buy coke three weeks ago,” He said.
“Didn’t he almost OD?” You asked.
“Yeah, but that ain’t my fault, I want my money,” Urgan said, muscling his way through the crowd.
“Don’t be an asshole, bro,” You said, still following him.
“I’m not being an asshole! It’s not like he learned anything, I bet you five bucks he’s doing coke right now.”
“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet,” You laughed. “I don’t know of a time when he’s not on coke. I think he was high when we first met.”
“That’s my point. You know I’m cool about that stuff normally, but it’s affecting his performance on the field,” Urgan grumbled. “I’m team captain, and if he doesn’t straighten up, I have to kick him off the team, friend or not. We lost to E.U. because of him.”
You grimaced. E.U. had been your school’s rival for generations. The loss hurt and was a huge blow to Urgan. It didn’t help that it was televised nationally.
“If you kick him off the team, the other guys will be pissed,” You reasoned.
“I know that,” He said grumpily. “But managing the team internally is my job. If I don’t do something about it, coach will either demote me or kick me off with him for not handling it when I should have. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over some douchebag’s coke habit.” He made his way into the garage at the opposite end of the house and smacked a seated Derek on the back of the head. “Hey, Derek! Money! Now!”
“Dude, back off!” Derek protested. “I’ll get it to you when I get it, damn!”
“Not good enough,” Urgan said, kicking the mirror that was in front of Derek. Powder went flying.
“Hey!” Derek said, standing up and taking a swing at Urgan. Urgan ducked and caught Derek’s arm, pinning it behind him. He was always quick.
“Quit the coke or quit the team,” Urgan said, snarling. “We’re not losing another game because you’re too high to play.”
“The fuck are you talking about, man?” Derek said, struggling. “Don’t blame that shit on me! It’s not my fault you can’t organize your team!”
“I’m serious, dude,” Urgan said, pushing Derek to the ground. “I’m not getting punished for you. Straighten up or fuck off.”
“Suck my dick, asshole,” Derek said. He jerked his chin at you. “Or get your boyfriend to do it.”
Words like that were water off your back at this point, but it always riled Urgan up. You could already see him tensing.
“Let it go, dude,” You said, pulling him back. “Derek, seriously, you’re bringing the whole team down. Lay off the drugs, at least until after the championship.”
“Get the fuck out of my house if you’re going to act all high and mighty,” Derek said, pushing past you. “And you can forget that fifty bucks. It’s all over the ground now.”
Urgan’s fists were balled up and he was breathing hard.
“He’s not going to stop,” Urgan said.
“Come on, dude,” You said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re not going to accomplish anything here. Take it to the field. Show him why you’re captain.”
“I guess,” He said. “I’m hungry, man, let’s grab something.”
“Sure,” You said. “Kelly’s coming over to your place after the party, though, right?”
“Yeah, but she won’t be any shape to do anything but sleep. She knows where the key is, she’ll be fine.”
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Finals were coming up, and most people were holed up in their rooms or dorms studying. Urgan was a decent student and never really worried about tests, though you hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days, which was odd. He could have been working a lot; he had a part-time job to pay for his own studio apartment. He said the dorms were too small for him.
“Urgan? No, I haven’t seen him in a week.” Joey said. Joey was a coworker from the bar where Urgan worked and also an ex-boyfriend of yours. You bumped into him at the university’s library while looking for Urgan. Urgan hadn’t answered his door when you went to check on him, so you figured he had to be here.
“Is he sick?” You asked, taking out your phone. You’d texted him awhile ago and you saw that he had seen it, but he hadn’t responded.
“I dunno,” Joey said. “All I know is that he asked the boss for some personal time. It could just be finals getting to him.”
You frowned. “Hmm… I’m going back to his apartment. He’s never been this quiet before. Something’s not right.”
“Tell him to come back to work. All the girls try to flirt with me when he’s not there. I need him to be my shield.”
You laughed and waved him off, heading out.
“Urgan!” You called, knocking insistently on his door. “Open the door! Are you alright?”
No answer. Frustrated, you got the spare key that was hidden in a slit of the doormat and unlocked the door. His apartment was dark and looked normal. Urgan was a fairly tidy guy, and nothing was really out of place.
“Urgan!” You called again, walking around the partition that obscured his bed. There he was, passed out on top of his blankets. There were empty bottles of liquor everywhere. Your heart stopped.
“Oh, fuck, please don’t be dead,” You said, crawling on the bed to slap him in the face. “Urgan, wake up!” His skin was cold, which scared the shit out of you, but after a minute feeling for a pulse on his neck you found a heartbeat, and you could see him breathing very slowly, so at least he was alive. But he wasn’t responding to your attempts to rouse him.
“Shit.” You took out your phone and called and called emergency services.
“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?”
“Hey, I need an ambulance, I think my friend has alcohol poisoning.” You said quickly, hoping it was intelligible, and gave them the address.
“Okay, sir, how long has this been going on?”
“I’m not sure, I just found him. I haven’t heard from him in days. He’s got a pulse, but he won’t wake up.”
“Is he cold to the touch?”
“Yes.”
“Is he breathing?”
“Slowly, but yes.”
“Can you make sure his airway is clear?”
You put the phone down and opened his mouth. There didn’t seem to be anything in the way.
“It’s clear,” You said.
“Alright, sir, I’ve got an ambulance on the way. Do me a favor and turn him on his side and bend the leg that’s on the top. Keep his airway clear and keep an eye on his breathing.”
“Okay,” You said, doing as the operator said and trying to keep calm.
The ambulance arrived within minutes, and after several moments of the EMTs attempting to wake him and failing, they loaded him in the rig. You were able to ride with him to the hospital. They took you both to a room, and you stood back as they began hooking Urgan up to all sorts of tubes and wires. They put a tube in his mouth because his breathing was weak and slowing down. They put him on a heavy saline drip and debated whether or not to pump his stomach. Eventually, they left him to rest and you sat with him.
“What the fuck is happening with you, man?” You asked him quietly as he slept.
Eventually, you fell asleep, and when you woke up, they were taking the air tube out of his throat. Urgan was awake and groaning in discomfort as it was removed.
“Dude, what the hell?” You said, standing up.
His eyes were bloodshot and he looked extremely sick, but at least he was awake. He waited for the doctors and the nurses to leave so that it was just you and him before he answered you.
“Kelly’s pregnant,” He said hoarsely. “It’s mine. She’s sure of it.”
“Oh, shit,” You said, sitting back down in the chair next to him. “I thought you used protection.”
“I do,” He said in frustration. “The condom must have broken or something. She told me she was on the pill. I don’t know what happened. I’m so fucking screwed.”
“You may not be,” You said, trying to comfort him, but you knew he was right. Being team captain meant that you put the team before everything. If you had another priority, you couldn’t be team captain. Not to mention the scandal of having a kid during the height of his college career would destroy his reputation and make him seem irresponsible. A baby right now was going to ruin him.
“Don’t bullshit me. I can’t show my face at school. Coach is going to kick my ass as soon as he finds out. My life is over.”
“Don’t talk like that, man,” You said. “What’s Kelly saying about all this? Has she told anyone?”
“No, not yet,” He said, covering his eyes. “Well, she hadn’t when I started drinking, but I don’t know if she has now.”
“She wants to keep it?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t get farther than ‘I’m having a baby and it’s yours’. And then I just started drinking and didn’t stop.”
“How far along is she?”
“Three months, she said.”
“How does she know it’s yours?”
“I was the only person she was sleeping with at the time. We were thinking about dating seriously, but it didn’t work out that way.”
“Do you believe that?”
“I don’t know. We’ll find out, I guess.”
You frowned deeply. “She’s… been partying pretty hard in the last three months.”
Urgan rubbed his face. “I know. I’m scared shitless the kid is going to be born fucked up.”
“Do you… think you can talk her into giving it up? For adoption, I mean? She doesn’t seem like mom material.”
“I don’t know,” He said. “I don’t know what she’ll do.”
“What about…” You hesitated to mention it. “What about an abortion?”
“That’s her decision,” He said vaguely. “It’s her body.”
“Do you want me to talk to her?”
“No, don’t,” He said. “I’ll do it when I’ve got my head on right.”
“Dude, look where you are right now,” You said, gesturing vaguely. “Let me at least call her.”
He sighed. “Fine.”
You took Urgan’s phone, which was in his back pocket when he was brought in, and called Kelly. She was surprised to hear about Urgan’s condition and said she’d come up to the hospital.
She arrived an hour later and you gave them some privacy to talk. It was a while, so you went to grab a soda. When you came back, Kelly was leaving with tears on her face. You went in and saw Urgan sitting up in bed. His eyes were red from crying.
“Hey man, are you okay?”
“No,” He said, wiping his face and sniffing. “She’s going to keep it. I’m leaving school.”
“What?” You said, coming around. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m gonna finish out the semester but I’m leaving before the baby is born. I have to find a better job. I’m hoping I can come back when the baby is a bit older, like when they start school or something, and finish my degree.”
“But you only have a year left! Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“No!” He shouted. “I don’t want to leave school! I’ve been dreaming of this scholarship since I was a kid! It was my dad’s dream! But I’m not going to be a deadbeat! I have to find a decent job before the baby is born. I don’t have a choice.”
You were stunned to silence and just listen to him breathe through his tears.
“Are you and Kelly staying together?”
“Fuck no,” He said vehemently. “We both know that would be stupid. She’s going to stay in school as long as she can. She’s supposed to be due in winter sometime, so I should have enough saved up by then to give her for the baby, to make sure they’re comfortable.” He scowled. “I’m sure Derek is going to be thrilled. I can just see the look on his face now.”
“Don’t worry about that jackass,” You said. “Dude, I… Is there anything I can do to help out?”
He shook his head. “Kelly and I are going to keep this quiet until the end of the semester so that we don’t have to deal with anyone bullshit. After that, we’ll start telling people.”
“You’re not going to tell your mom?”
“Not yet. I can’t face her yet. She’s going to be so disappointed in me.” His tears began to fall again, and all you could do was put a hand on his shoulder and be there for him.
“I won’t say anything to anyone,” You told him. “I’m still your best friend, no matter what. If you need anything, you know I got you.”
“Thanks, man,” He said, his voice breaking.
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Urgan finished out school as he planned, barely scraping a passing grade, and then notified everyone that he wouldn’t be returning. As expected, his coach was furious, his mom was disappointed, and the team was dumbfounded. Derek was the only person who seemed to be enjoying the situation.
During summer, he asked for an amniocentesis, both to prove whether or not Urgan was the father, and also to check for any genetic conditions, since Kelly’s family had a history of genetic diseases. Urgan was hoping that she was lying about only sleeping with him around the time she conceived and that he would wind up not the father so he could go back to school, but the test was conclusive. The baby was his.
Urgan found work pretty quickly at a seafood processing plant near town. It was grueling work and it didn’t pay much, but it was a full-time job and had healthcare benefits, which was the best he could hope for in these circumstances. He began saving immediately to buy clothes and diapers for his kid, which he recently found out was a little girl, and was in frequent contact with Kelly. He didn’t attend any of the doctor’s visits at Kelly’s request. Not that he wanted to be there in the first place.
You continued with college and partied like a normal college guy, stayed on the football team, and was promoted to captain. Urgan seemed happy for you and gave you pointers on leadership. If he resented you for it, he gave no sign.
Many of Urgan’s old friends, mostly team members, dropped him immediately. They no longer invited him to parties or events, and when you mentioned inviting him, they shot you down. As far as you knew, the only one who still stood by him was you, and you couldn’t be there as much as you wanted to as you now had responsibilities with the team.
Even still, if he called, you dropped what you were doing and went over. You promised you’d be there, and you were going to keep that promise. He was your best friend and you were going to stand with him. No matter what.
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Urgan’s daughter, Roga, was born in November. She was small, even for a half-orc. You were there in the waiting room for the birth with the grandparents. It might have been your presence that stopped them from being at each other’s throats; the animosity in the air was palpable. Kelly’s dad was there, looking not-best-pleased at Urgan’s mom, despite her being nearly twice his size, but no harsh words were said.
Urgan came out in the full paper surgical outfit, holding the baby. He even seemed happy.
“Here she is,” He said, holding her out for the grandparents to see.
“Oh, isn’t she precious,” Urgan’s mom, Reana, said. “She’s got your eyes, Urg.”
“Yeah,” He said, smiling. “She looks a bit like dad, don’t you think?”
“She does!” Reana said brightly. “That nose definitely looks like his.”
The grandparents took turns holding the baby, and then went in to see the mother.
“Hey,” Urgan said to you, the only one left in the room. “Do you want to hold her?”
You chuckled nervously. “I dunno, man, I’ve never held a baby.”
“Neither have I, before today,” He said. “You don’t have to. I just wanted to offer since everyone else got to.”
“Yeah, but they’re family.”
“You’re family, too,” He said, looking at you like you were being an idiot.
You smiled a little and held out your arms, and Urgan carefully lay the baby into them. She was small and squishy and her face was all wrinkly. Babies all looked like potatoes to you. But she reached out and yawned and grabbed at your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“She’s cute,” You said, letting her grip your finger.
“Yeah,” He said, grinning.
“How’s Kelly?”
“She hates my guts, but she’s okay.” Urgan reached out to take the baby, and you handed her over. “I should take Roga back. The lactation specialist wants to work with her.”
“I didn’t know there was a such thing as a lactation specialist,” You said with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah,” Urgan said. “The last nine months have been extremely informative.”
You snorted. “I bet.”
He took the baby back to Kelly and you sat in the waiting room, feeling a little awkward. Why were you here? You weren’t really family. You knew you were supporting Urgan, but… he didn’t really need you there right now. He seemed fine. Happy even, considering the circumstances. Maybe… maybe you should go. You really didn’t belong here.
You texted Urgan to let him know something had come up and to call you if you needed him, and he told you that it was okay, and to be careful going home. As you left, you sighed in relief. But you also felt a little guilty.
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Six months later was graduation. You finished top of your class and made valedictorian. You knew that if Urgan had still been in school, he’d have gotten that honor, but…
Urgan didn’t come to graduation, and you understood why. Kelly crossed the stage and accepted her diploma, and you couldn’t help feel a little resentful at her, despite the fact that it wasn’t her fault that Urgan wasn’t there, either. They really had done everything they were supposed to do--used protection, used birth control, was careful--but things just happen sometimes. Even still, it felt like Urgan was the one who had sacrificed the most and had gotten nothing in return.
You managed to get a job at an accounting firm almost immediately after graduation. It was a boring job but the money was good. You were hoping it would be a stepping stone to a better career later.
Since getting the job, you hadn’t really seen or spoken to Urgan much. You were still his best friend, but… you had your own life to live. You felt guilty about it, but your world couldn’t stop just because his had.
Urgan was still working at the fish processing plant, working long hours to support Roga. Urgan was basically paying Kelly’s rent and bills plus everything Roga needed for both homes, since he took her on the weekends from Friday night to Monday morning, when he dropped her off on the way to work.
However, a month after graduation, Urgan called you in a panic.
“Kelly’s gone,” He said. “She’s left. I got a text from her saying she’s gone to Canada.”
“What?” You asked in disbelief. “Did she take Roga?”
“No, I’ve got her here.” He said, his voice shaking. “When she texted me, I was scared she had run off with the baby, but she left Roga with her stepdad. I just picked her up and I’m bringing her back home with me.”
You felt terrible for hoping Kelly had taken Roga with her to Canada. Even though you knew it wasn’t Roga’s fault, all you wanted was for Urgan’s life to go back to normal. You just wanted him to have the things he should have had if Roga hadn’t been born. And you hated yourself for thinking that.
“Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” He said. He sounded extremely distressed. “Can you meet me at my apartment, please? I need someone to talk to. You’re all I have left.”
“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there,” You said, picking up your keys.
“Thank you,” He said, and then hung up. He was audibly crying.
You made it to Urgan’s apartment before he did, and you saw him step out of the elevator carrying a ton of baby stuff in one arm and hauling Roga in her carseat in the other.
“Can you take her, please?” Urgan said. He looked pale and in shock.
“Yeah, of course,” You said, taking her carrier and looking inside. She was sleeping with a stuffed griffon clutched in her baby hands. “Is she okay?”
“I think so,” He said, unlocking his door. His apartment was strewn with kid stuff. It was so much different than the last time you’d seen it.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” He said, dropping the load he was carrying in the middle of the floor.
“Dude, I don’t care about the mess, are you okay?” You asked.
“I…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was visibly shaking. “I don’t know if I can do this alone. I had accepted being a dad, but I don’t know if I can be… the only parent. I… I don’t know any babysitters for when I’m working. I don’t… is she off breastmilk? When was her last check up? When is she supposed to see the doctor again? Kelly didn’t tell me those things because I.. I figured she had it handled. I was making sure they had everything they needed. I didn’t think I’d…”
“Okay, calm down,” You said. “Roga is fine. You can find all of that stuff out. I’ll help, I’ll help however I can, okay?”
“Okay,” He said, sitting on his couch heavily. “Okay.” He reached down into her carseat and unstrapped her, putting her against his shoulder, clutching her as if she was a warm stone and he was freezing. He was certainly shaking like he was.
This was the first time you’d seen Roga since she was born. Now that she’d had a chance to grow, she did look a lot like Urgan. It made you feel worse for resenting her.
“Look, can you watch her for a few minutes?” He asked suddenly. “I’m almost out of formula and I didn’t expect to have her right now. I was going to go Thursday to stock up. I don’t want to run out.”
“I…” You hesitated.
“Please,” He begged quietly. “Please. Ten minutes. I promise.”
You sighed. “Okay.”
He transferred Roga from his shoulder to yours. Uncertainly, you gripped her firmly.
“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Urgan said, and he was out the door.
There was a rocking bassinet near Urgan’s bed behind the divider, and you settled Roga in it, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form.
“I wish I didn’t hate you,” You told her, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks. “But you took everything from him. I know it’s not your fault, but it doesn’t change anything. He’ll never be the man he should have been because of you.”
Roga sighed in her sleep and snugged into her bed without waking. You did nothing but sit on Urgan’s bed and stare at her the entire time Urgan was gone, allowing yourself to hate her and Kelly and the team at school and everyone who turned their back on Urgan when he needed them the most. When Urgan returned, your tears had dried, and you left.
Roga was still sleeping.
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maddiwrites · 3 years
Text
Secrets of the Shore
Pairing: Pogues x OC, eventually JJ x OC
Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.
Note: Thank you so much for all the nice things you guys have said about chapter one! A couple people have asked to be tagged for every update so I started a tag list. If you would like to be tagged, please message me! I hope I got everyone who asked and if I didn’t please let me know. Next chapter, you’ll learn more about Marleigh and her personality so bare with me (: Gonna post updates every Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday (:
Another Note: Apparently my hashtags didn’t work the last time so I’m reposting this. I don’t know what happened. Sorry! Let me know if they worked this time (:
Word Count: 7.9k
Warnings: None
Chapter One
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I wake up to the rustling of John B walking through the Chateau, kicking over empty beer cans and muttering to himself. He mentions something about service, but I can barely understand through the fog in my own head that's still heavy with sleep.
"Yo, JJ," He says and I hear a slap against bare skin. "You been outside?"
"I have polio, bro," JJ grumbles into his pillow. "I can't walk."
I peek one eye open. The sunlight coming in through the window blinds me for a second. I'm curled into myself with my back to JJ. He's sleeping on his stomach, his left arm slung over my side.
I groan as I pull myself up and lean against the back of the couch. Stretching my arms, I turn to look out the window. Even with just a quick glimpse, I can see the mess in our back yard Hurricane Agatha made. A wash of frustration runs through me when I think about all the work we're going to have to do to clean it up. Not just here but on Figure Eight too. No way those Kooks get their hands dirty for this.
I swing my legs over the mattress and follow my brother outside after hearing JJ mumble something about me leaving. His morning voice sends a rush of warmth to my chest and I have to hold back the grin that's fighting it's way on my lips.
The first thing I see is the giant tree that now lays across our yard, ripped out of its roots. Had the wind been blowing the other way, it would have landed on our house and we would have been screwed.
"Damn," I whistle, still scanning the damage. John B's pulling branches out of the HMS Pogue. Somehow our small boat has managed to survive the storm. I look over to the chicken coop that's to the side of our home. The roosters are crowing which means they're alive too.
"Agatha did some work, huh?" JJ says from the porch door. He already has a beer in his hand as he studies our yard. I know he's already thinking about the labor he'll have to put into other people's yards too.
"Yeah, she did," My brother says, looking out into the water.
"What you thinking?"
John B looks back with a smirk on his lips. "I'm thinking that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze. All those drum are gonna chase the crab."
"What about the DCS? Wasn't that today?" JJ asks, looking between my brother and I.
He shakes his head. "Nah, they're not getting on a ferry." He hops down from the boat and approaches us. "Come on, think about it. It's God tellin' us to fish."
JJ smirks back at him. "Yeah."
"Let me get changed first," I tell them before turning back into my house.
No lights turn on when I flick the switch on my bedroom wall. Now I know what John B was muttering about when he first woke up. I pull up the blinds on my windows to let some kind of light through my room. Then I hold up two bathing suits in my mirror, trying to pick between the blue one or the floral one.
"I like the blue one," JJ says, welcoming himself into my room. I swivel around in surprise. I thought I locked my door. I glare at the intrusion but he ignores it, his smirk only growing. "Matches your eyes and if I remember correctly, the bottoms are more cheeky than the other ones."
I throw the floral bikini top in his direction, which he skillfully dodges. I don't know if it was JJ's opinion or if I was already leaning towards the blue bathing suit, but that's the one I choose.
As JJ ruffles through his duffel bag on my dresser, I go to the bathroom to change. I throw on another pair of jean shorts and a T shirt and follow the boys out to the dock where they're already getting the boat ready.
Its kind of routine when the Pogues have a boat day. We make our way through the marsh, first picking up Pope and then Kie, who will more than likely have a cooler packed with drinks and snacks. We'll stay on the water for hours, getting sunburnt and drunk until the sun goes down or one of us wants to go back to surf.
I look over the damage that Hurricane Agatha as tortured onto our side of the island. Everyone's yard looks just like mine. Fallen trees and branches litter their back yards. Some boats have sunken into the water, and not a single house looks like they have power.
"Good morning!" John B yells to the residents as we drive by. Always the friendly face he is.
"Sure hope Guffy's boat didn't sink," JJ says, standing on the front of the boat, looking into the yards. "He doesn't have insurance."
"Yeah."
"Hi, Miss Amy!" I wave to the woman raking the leaves and picking up sticks. She looks up at us and waves back, taking a break from the yard work. "You guys get through it?"
She motions to her yard and shrugs her shoulders. "Still here!"
She goes back to her yard work and JJ immediately turns around and looks at John B with a proud smile. "She totally looked at me."
"I saw it." John B smirks back, playing along.
I roll my eyes and lean further back into the boat, pulling my sunglasses over my eyes and muttering the word 'idiot.'
"Dude look at this place." JJ whistles. "Agatha what did you do?"
"She is a crazy lady."
"Hard-core Hurricane surge. We'll be cleaning this all summer."
"That's my nightmare."
"Well, look who we have here," JJ says, making me look up at the dock we're closely approaching.
I make my way to the front of the boat to stand next to JJ as we get closer to Pope's dock where he is standing with his father already on clean up duty.
John B talks into his shoulder like a cop radios his partners and changes his voice to sound like he's speaking through a megaphone. "We have a safety meeting. Attendance mandatory." He even mimics the static noise those horns make.
Pope looks at us defeated. "I can't. My pop's got me on lockdown."
"Come on, Pope!" I groan.
JJ does the same thing as John B and talks into his shoulder, using the same voice. "Your dad's a pussy. Over."
Heyward approaches the railing of his deck and points at JJ with a glare. "Oh, I heard that, you little bastard."
I can't help but laugh at the interaction.
"We need your son!" I add.
"Yeah, and island rule. Day after a hurricane's a free day," JJ says.
"Who made that up?" Heyward continues to glare at him.
"Uh, Pentagon, I think. We have security clearance." JJ pretends to check his pockets. "I have a card."
"Think I'm stupid?"
Pope turns to his father with pleading eyes. "I'll do it tomorrow. I promise. Tomorrow."
Immediately his father shakes his head. "You think - no. No." Pope looks at us, silently conflicted. "Hell no," His dad says, reading his son's face. "You doin' it right now."
Pope looks back at us. When he finds my eyes I nod my head and wave him closer to me. "Come on. Get in the boat."
"Make a run for it," JJ says too.
Heyward glares at us. "Boy if you get in that boat -"
Pope doesn't wait to hear the rest of that sentence. He's already taking off towards us. JJ's there, ready to help him in before his dad can catch up to him. I clap my hands and wrap my arms around his neck in a tight hug when he makes it in. John B immediately starts driving away.
"How does that feel?" JJ says.
Pope can't even enjoy the moment completely. His dad yells at us as we float away and he's waving to John B to drive faster. "Go, go, go, go."
"Bring your ass back up here!" Heyward continues to yell at us.
Pope turns to yell back at his dad. "I promise I'll do it tomorrow, Dad."
"You're gonna clean shrimp, clean fish -"
"Love you pops!"
"Love you pops!" I repeat, falling back in my seat at the end of the boat and laughing up at the sky.
"We'll bring him back in one piece!" John B yells. "I promise."
"And I don't like your friends!" Is the last thing we hear from him.
A couple minutes later, we're driving down Kook land. Kie is already at the edge of her dock, holding a cooler like I knew she would. Her curly brunette hair falls behind her shoulders. I wish I had hair like her's.
JJ walks to the side to help her in. He holds out his hand for her to take. "Oh, top o' the mornin' to ya."
"Good morning," She says, moving to the end of the boat to take a seat next to me.
"Morning," John B and I say.
"Whatcha got?" Pope asks her. "You got some juice boxes?"
"You know, just some yogurts and carrot sticks," She replies sarcastically, using her shoulder to shove me slightly when I scoff.
"How about my kind of juice box?" JJ says, falling on the seat on the other side of me.
"Yeah." Kie pulls out the bottles of beer and hands them out. The three of us cheer when we pop the cap off. I let the carbonated bread water, as I like to call it, slide down my throat. Beer always taste better in the boat in the summer.
John B and Pope switch seats, leaving Pope behind the wheel.
"Brace for impact," Pope says as he picks up speed now that we're past the 'No Wake' zone. My hair flies behind my shoulders as the wind rushes past me.
JJ stands up and holds out his hands in the air, basking in the breeze and morning sun. "Bet you can't do this. Party trick." I narrow my eyes at him, glaring through the beaming sun. "Hey, Pope. Can you go a little faster?"
"Here we go. I'm movin'," Pope says.
John B shakes his and watches JJ hold out the beer in front of his face. "Doesn't work."
"We've tried this like six thousand times," I say through my laugh. I look back down at Kie who is also rolling her eyes playfully.
"I got this. It's gonna work," JJ says.
JJ tilts the beer bottle towards his mouth letting the momentum and the wind pull the beer out of the bottle and splash on his face, barely hitting his open mouth like he intended it to. The excessive beer splashes down on mine and Kie's skin.
"You're getting beer in my hair!" Kie complains, moving to the other side of the boat next to John B.
JJ doesn't stop. He keeps moving his head to catch the liquid but he will never move fast enough to catch the mess he's creating.
"All right. All right. You're done." John B says.
"All right, stop!" Kie says, everyone somewhat annoyed that they're going to smell like beer for the next twelve hours.
Before JJ could even consider listening to any of us, the boat comes to a complete halt, jerking us forward and sending JJ flying off the boat. I slam onto the floor of the boat on my side. A small groan escapes my lips as a dull pain shoots through my hipbone.
"Jesus, Pope!" Kie yells. When I look up, she and John B are also on the floor. The steering wheel broke Pope's fall.
I pull myself up and fall back on my original seat. I twist my body around to look for JJ in the water. John B calls for him, asking if he's okay. His head peeks out from the water's surface and squints back at us with a grimace.
"I think my heels touched the back of my head."
I laugh at the exaggerated statement.
"Kie, Mar, you guys okay?" John B asks.
I look back to see Kie pulling herself off the ground and falling next to John B in the seat next to him. He rubs the skin on her back comfortingly. She smiles at him gratefully and nods her head. I keep my stare there for a few more long seconds. Recently Kie and John B have been hanging out more closely with one another. Obviously, they're best friends like the rest of us, but they're always picking the seat that's next to one another. Touches linger on the other's skin, and even Kie is laughing at John B's not so funny jokes.
"Pope what did you do?" JJ swims back to the boat.
"Sandbar," Pope says, looking out into the water. "Channel changed."
"No shit."
"This is probably gonna mess this whole place up," John B says.
"Hey, I saved the beer, though."
A sarcastic scoff blows past my lips and I shake my head. "Congrats, JJ."
"Guys..." I look back over at Pope who's fixated on something in the water as he stands on the side of the boat, unmoving. Barely blinking. "I think there's a boat down there."
"Shut up. What?"
"No way."
"No, no, guys. I'm serious. There's a boat down there," Pope says.
I follow the others to the side of the boat to find what Pope is staring at. I'm ready to tell Pope he's seeing things and needs to get a couple more hours of sleep, but to my surprise he is right. A couple feet below the murky water is the silhouette of an overturned boat.
"Guys...is this..." John B says slowly.
"It's a boat!" Kie says.
I'm the first one to start stripping out of my clothes, curiosity overwhelming me. I want to see what's down there...if someone is down there.
"Guys, wait up!" I hear Pope yell as soon as I dive into the water next to JJ.
I swim deeper into the water, ignoring the thudding pain in my ears as I sink further into the marsh. The salt water slightly stings my eyes, but it isn't anything I'm not already use to. You kind of get use to it after wiping out in the ocean every time you surf.
The boat's bigger than the water's surface made it out to be. I don't think it's real until I feel the smooth exterior under my fingertips. I push myself a little deeper before I run out of air. I try looking through the open bars into the driver's seat. A part of me is afraid of what I might see, but I have to know. I have to make sure there's no one in here. Trapped and decaying all alone. My biggest fear is that my dad is somewhere in the middle of the ocean submerged in that same position.
However, I'm relieved when I don't see a dead body floating around the steering wheel.
When I feel my chest tighten, I push myself up to the surface. I gasp for air the second the cool breeze hits my face.
"You guys saw that?" JJ pants.
"Yeah!"
"Yeah I did!"
"Yeah!"
We swim back to the boat. John B climbs up first then holds out his hand for me to take. JJ is right behind me and pulls himself up.
"See?" He smirks at me when John B moves to help Pope and Kie up the boat. "Cheeky."
I shove his chest back with two hands. He falls back into the seat I had originally occupied, laughing to himself. I roll my eyes and throw my jean shorts back on when my legs are dry.
I both love it and hate it when JJ makes comments like that. It makes my heart flutter every time and fireworks explode in my stomach. But every euphoric feeling I get dissipates within seconds when I remember that the two of us will never happen. Because he's my brother's best friend. Because he's my best friend. And I can't ruin that like I ruin everything else in my life.
JJ turns to the rest of our friends and runs his fingers through his wet and tangled hair. "That's a Grady-White. A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy. That's a primo rig."
"Yeah. That's the boat we saw when we surfed the surge." John B says, catching my attention. "Maybe it hit the jetty or something."
The memory of last night sprints to the front of my brain. The boat. I should have expected it to sink, but shouldn't have someone been behind the wheel? Whoever it was, I hope they made it out alive. I can't help but feel a small sliver of hope for that person since I didn't find them trapped inside the boat. With that sliver of hope came the reminder of my dad's disappearance like a slap in the face. Maybe if something had happened to him, he could have made it out alive too.
No. He is dead, I tell myself.
"You surfed the surge?" Kie's voice brings me out of my head. Her voice is strong and laced with disapproval.
"That's my boy. Pogue style!" JJ cheers.
"Why are you only looking at me? It was Marleigh's idea!" John B points an accusatory finger my way, hoping to take some of the blame off of motherly Kie.
Kie turns to glare at me. "What the heck?"
"Pope was there too!" I follow John B's lead by pointing my finger at someone else. This in return earns Pope a glare from our curly brunette friend.
"They guilted me into it! Said if they didn't have another pair of eyes, they'd probably drown and no one would be there to save them," Pope says with a glare. "They're lucky I was there. I was the one who saw Mar go under."
"I was fine!" I roll my eyes at Pope's dramatized version of events.
"Wait, wait." JJ interrupts the bickering. "Do we know whose boat that is?"
John B shakes his head and walks to the back of the boat where JJ and I are standing. "No, but we're about to find out."
"Dude, it's too deep."
"Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ."
JJ makes his way to the opposite side of boat next to Kie and Pope. He digs into the cooler for another beer and takes a long swig. "Well, I'm not resuscitating you. I'm just making that clear up front."
John B pulls the anchor up and untangles it from the chains. "That's fine." He holds the anchor close to his chest, using the extra weight to drag him down further into the water. He catches Kie's disappointed glare and sighs. "What?"
Pope looks between the two and brings his hand up as a salute to my brother. "Diver down, fool."
John B nods. "Diver down."
JJ walks up to him and shoves him in the water by his chest before he can change his mind. "Yeah, he is."
John B's body disappears behind the muddy water. No one says anything as we wait. Kie bounces anxiously next to me on her toes. Her hands grip the edge of the boat until her knuckles turn white. I want to say something to her, to make her relax, but I don't want to embarrass her in front of the other two idiots on the boat.
"Should we go get him?" Pope asks after it's been a minute.
Before Kie can jump into the water, John B resurfaces, coughing water out of his mouth.
"Oh my God." Kie scowls. "That took forever."
I shake my head with a small smile on my lips and take the anchor from his hands.
"Any dead bodies?" Pope asks.
"Looting potential?" JJ follows up.
John B pulls himself into the boat. I hand him a towel.
"No. No." He shakes his head but holds something small in his hand. "But I found this motel key."
"A key," Pope says with no emotion, clearly not as excited as John B.
"Yeah, a key, Pope."
"Great!" JJ snags the key out of his hand and looks at it. "We salvaged a motel key."
"Guys, we should report the wreck to the coast guard," Kie says.
I agree with Kie. "Maybe we'll get a finder's fee."
"Yeah and not work all summer," JJ says. "Thanks Agatha, ya batch."
John B drives us back to the shore, but we don't go to the Chateau. We go to the coast guard to report the boat.
I'm not surprised to see the coast guard's post surrounded with people, shouting complaints and concerns. There is no designated line for people to professionally line themselves up. At least, if there is, no one is following the order.
I decide to wait with Pope and Kie in the boat while John B and JJ try to report the sunken boat. I rest my legs on the cooler and bask in the late morning sun with the spare couple of seconds I have in silence.
However those seconds are short-lived when I feel someone kick my legs off the cooler, almost knocking me off my seat.
"What the -"
Then I feel an upward slap to the back of my head. "The surge!"
"Ow, Kie!"
"You could have died out there!"
"But I didn't." I offer a guilty smile. When she doesn't smile back, I sigh and sit myself up straighter. "It's fun, Kie. You'll never know until you try it. You should come out with us next time."
"Your brother would have never let you do it, let alone join you."
Her words make me pause. It's true John B use to be more responsible. Out of the two us, he was always the one to keep us both in line. Sometimes he would be like a second father to me. He always protected me, bandaged me up, and took the fall for mistakes I made. Now he is following in my footsteps. Taking more risks with an act-now-think-later mentality. All of our friends know he's doing this to deal with our dad's disappearance. Unlike Kie, I don't think what he's doing is wrong. He's having more fun, and he's not going to kill himself doing it.
It's better than what I was doing when I tried forgetting about what might of happened to my dad.
The boys return with blank faces. I can already tell that the coast guards couldn't care less about their problem, let alone if they even listened.
"Well, that went well," John B says.
"So what's the plan?" I ask, ignoring Kie's deadly stare on the side of my head.
"I know how we're gonna find the guy who owns that boat." John B holds up the key with a mischievous smirk.
"We don't know who's room that is." Pope is quick to try to stop him. "It could be anyone."
Shockingly, Kie doesn't take Pope's side. She slaps her hands to the back of his shoulders and giggles. "Come on. I'll be lookout."
After JJ unties the boat from the dock, John B steers the boat in the direction of the motel.
"Finder's fee," John B shrugs. "Just saying."
"And hey, at least you'll only be an accomplice," JJ says as he stands next to John B, smirking down at a disapproving Pope.
"Man," Pope complains.
"Come on, bubba," John B laughs.
A couple minutes later, we pull up to the dock outside the motel, in front of the parking lot. I've seen run down motels before, but this one looks like it could be used in a horror movie. The wooden siding is peeling off, littering the pavement below. The railing on the balcony looks less than stable, most slabs even missing.
JJ whistles. "I thought the Chateau looked bad."
"This place is a shit show," John B agrees.
"Motel or meth lab?" Kie says.
"You be the judge," says Pope.
"Doesn't look like a place somebody with a Grady-White stays," I say, confused as to why a man living here had a boat as expensive as the one we found.
"No. Looks like a place someone with a Grady-White would get killed," Pope says.
JJ walks to the edge of the boat to tie us to the dock. I come up behind him to help.
"This is your captain speaking. HMS Pogue comin' in for landing," JJ announces.
"We good?" John B asks as I tie the last knot.
"Yeah, we good," JJ replies.
I get out of the boat first and flip my sunglasses on top of my head. There's only two cars in the parking lot, which is good news. Less chances of us getting caught.
"All right. Here goes nothin'," John B says, hopping out of the boat next to me. JJ follows.
As we turn to walk away, Pope calls out for us to stop. "Hey!"
"Yeah?" John B asks.
"Don't let them do anything stupid," He tells my brother, nodding towards JJ and I with his head. I stick my tongue out at him but he doesn't acknowledge it.
JJ wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side. "Oh, we will."
I laugh and shove him off of me.
John B laughs too before turning to Pope. "I'm not making any promises."
"Yeah I know," Pope finally sighs.
"Hey!" Kie walks to the side of the boat that's next to the dock. Neither John B or Kie say anything for a moment. They both just stand there, looking at each other for about two seconds too long. If I were any closer, I'd be able to see them blushing like crazy. "Uh, be careful." She looks over his shoulder at JJ and I who are watching them with raised brows and amused expressions. "I mean it."
"Yeah," John B chuckles and follows JJ and I out to the stairs that will bring us to the second floor of the motel.
The smell of the motel is almost as bad as it looks. Like a sweat box drenched in urine with a hint of cigarette smoke. Stacked on the side of the building near every room is a bare mattress, not one of them without a yellow or brown stain.
"Why are all these mattresses out?" I ask.
"After a hurricane, they ditch 'em 'cause they're moldy," JJ answers me before turning to slap his hands on John B's shoulders. He raises his voice an octave higher to mimic Kie and pretends to fawn over him. "Just be so careful, John."
John B pushes him away and rolls his eyes. "God, you're so weird."
"What was that about?" JJ continues.
"I don't know. Maybe she wants us to be careful." My brother plays dumb. It makes me roll my eyes. I don't know if he's just trying to avoid the conversation or if he's just that blind.
"Since she heard you're being threatened with exile, she's just been, like -" Again JJ raises his voice and clings onto John B's arm. "Oh be careful John B."
John B pushes him off again. "Get off."
JJ continues, "Oh, give me that John D already." He drops his voice back to normal. "When are you gonna swoop on that, man?"
I roll my eyes and lead the way. Most of the curtains are pulled down on every window. The doors lining the walls look thin enough that I could fall through them and accidentally whip them open. Even the wood I'm standing on doesn't seem sturdy enough. I feel like I'm going to fall through it with every step.
"Bro, you know the rule. No pogue-on-pogue macking."
"Yeah, trust me. I know that rule."
I look over my shoulder at the blonde boy, only to find him staring straight back at me. He quickly winks at me before I turn back around. Something flutters in my stomach.
"You're the one always hitting on her," John B retaliates.
"Of course I'm always hitting on her," JJ says. And just like that, the flutters are gone and replaced with something that more resembles nausea. "She's a super-hot, rich, hippie chick slumming with us. Why? I can't figure it out either, but who cares, bro? I know that door's locked because I've tried it. Have you?"
"You need help."
"You both need help," I say, keeping my eyes on the numbers on each door. We're getting close.
"Not a little help, you need a lot of help," John B continues, ignoring me completely. "It's like every girl who just has a heartbeat, you're like...'Uhh.'"
We finally reach room twenty nine and I turn to look at the two knuckleheads with a glare. I love being their friend and all but sometimes the bro talk needs to stay within the bros.
"What? It's not a big deal," JJ says more to me than John B which only makes me roll my eyes more. "You do the same thing."
"Shut up. This is us. Twenty-nine," I say.
JJ sighs and walks to the other side of me to peek into the window. When he doesn't see anything he knocks on the door. In an even higher pitched voice he says, "Housekeeping." I look behind us to make sure no one is looking.
"Should we try it?" John B asks.
"Yeah," JJ and I say at the same time, taking a step back so John B can use the key to let us in.
"No power. No security cameras. No one's gonna know," JJ says as a final push to invade this guy's privacy and ransack his room. Find out why he has a Grady-White and how we can get equally as lucky.
The door opens with a loud creak. The inside looks just as bad as the outside. Musty, dirty, and smells like the actual housekeepers haven't visited for weeks. Maybe months. As suspected the power is out and the windows are so dirty that barely any natural light can peek through them.
On the full size bed is a small green duffel bag and a pack of cigarettes. Next to it is a pillow I would not trust laying my head. Dirty laundry surrounds it on the floor and if I listen closely, I'm pretty sure I can hear a mouse squeaking away in a corner.
"Check the bag. See if there's a name on there somewhere," John B tells me.
I grimace as I reach my hand below the zipper. I don't know what I'm going to find in there but my mind immediately thinks there's a severed head laying in the bag. In a motel like this, the idea isn't far fetched. But instead, I pull out a coat.
"A jacket," I tell them. Nothing special but at least it's not a head.
John B holds up a pair of shoes. "Denim slides."
I look at the tag and run my fingers through the pockets. There's nothing that tells me who it belongs to. "No name on the jacket."
"It's a nice jacket though," JJ says, walking up next to me and taking it from my hands to look at it. "Definitely over 50."
John B holds up another pair of shoes. "He's got New Balances."
JJ finds a small map on the night stand and holds it out to the light. "Yo, dude, come here. Maybe this is where they were fishing."
John B grabs the map to look at it. "Let me see."
"Right there." JJ points at the part that's circled in red pen.
"No, that's off the continental shelf. That's Big Swell. Nobody fished there."
John B tucks the map in his back pocket and moves to the other side of the room. He picks up a cup and sniffs it, immediately pulling it away with a cringe. "Coffee?" He offers me the mug.
"Yeah," I reply sarcastically, turning away to shuffle through the random pieces of paper on the nightstand. Just a couple of receipts from the donut shop down the street. Nothing that has a name on it. Plus a piece of paper that has random numbers on it.
"Standard. Tissues when you get lonely," JJ says from the bathroom, tossing anything that seems invaluable over his shoulder into the dirty bath tub behind him. "Oh!"
"What?" I look up at him, hopeful that he found something that we actually came looking for. Although, I don't really know what that is yet. "Did you find anything?"
"A really awesome Dopp kit your brother won't let me steal."
John B smirks at him. "Yeah, 'cause we're not stealing shit."
JJ groans and throws the kit over his shoulder with the other crap he's not taking.
John B opens the cabinet under the TV stand. He drops to his knees when he finds a small safe with a padlock protecting it. I walk up behind him and squat next to him, narrowing my attention at the codes he's trying. I roll my eyes at the first one. "One-one-one-one." The safe beeps at the incorrect password. Then he tries "One-one, one, two." Again the safe beeps at us three times.
"Punching shit at random. That will...definitely work," JJ says behind us. He bends down to pull the map back out of John B's pocket to look at it.
"Wait a second," I say, turning back to the nightstand with the paper that had the four random numbers on it. It suddenly makes sense. "Here."
"I don't know. I don't know about the second one," JJ says, more to himself because John B and I are more focused on the safe. "These coordinates, they...wait. My cousin said you could catch swordfish here."
"Six, one, six, six, six," John B mutters to himself.
"Six, six, six. That can't be a good sign," I say.
"Nah, that wouldn't make any sense," JJ shakes his head to himself. "What about a surf spot?"
The safe's lock clicks instead of beeps at us. The metal door pops open, inviting us in. John B looks at me with a proud and giddy grin. I can't help but let out a breathy laugh and open the safe completely.
"Holy shit," John B curses when we finally see what's in the safe. My eyes grow wide at what we find. Stacks of one hundred dollar bills and a gun. The find only confuses me more. If this guy had money like this, why was he staying here? "Uh...JJ."
"Hm?" JJ finally hums after having a long conversation with himself.
"You're gonna want to see this," I say, smirking up at him.
I stand up from my spot so JJ could get a good look. He crouches down next to my brother and the smile on his face is similar to a child on Christmas morning.
He reaches in and instead of grabbing the money, he grabs the gun. I can't say I'm surprised. This is JJ we're talking about.
"You grabbed the gun," John B scoffs but can't hide the grin on his face.
"This is a SIG Sauer!" JJ exclaims, holding it up in the air and admiring it.
"Put the gun back, JJ," John B says.
"This is a fucking spendy gatt, man. Just..." JJ points the gun in front of him and pretends to fire it. "Bam! Bam!" I duck out of the way. I know he's just pretending but I wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally shot it because he was too excited. "Bam! Bam!"
"Jesus JJ," I hiss. "Quit it."
"Hey, think about it! Bam! Bam!"
"We're not stealing anything," John B says.
"Just take a pic of me. Right here," JJ holds the gun to his chest and points it up at the ceiling, posing with it.
"You want me to take a picture of you?" I purse my lips and raise one brow at him.
"Yeah, like..."
"Make our own incriminating evidence? Is that what you're talking about?"
A light tapping from the back window stops us all from our tiny bickering match. All three of our heads turn to the window, confused.
"Wait what was that?" John B says first.
JJ and I follow him to the window. He pulls the curtain to the side and presses his face against the dusty glass. Pope and Kie are jumping up and down and waving their hands like two idiots and pointing at a car parked in the lot. Their voices come through the glass quietly, but just loud enough for us to hear them say, "Cops! Cops! Cops!"
"Shit," John B pushes off the window.
"What is it?" JJ asks.
"Cops."
On cue, there's knocks coming from the other side of the door. "Kildare County Sheriff's Department!"
"Shit," I curse to myself and push myself in front of the boys. The only way we are getting out is through the window. JJ and John B climb out first. JJ holds out his hand for me to take right as the door knobs squeaks.
The jump is too high. All three of us would break our ankles if we tried. The only option we have is to stick it out on the roof and hope the cops don't look out the window.
The roof is small since the window sits on the side of the building. The only way the three of us will fit is if I'm pressed against the siding with JJ pressed behind me. Which is the exact position we're in. My right foot dangles off the side of the roof to make as much room for JJ as I can so we're as flat against the building as possible. I can hear his racing heart against my back and I can't help but wonder if it's from the adrenaline rush of being caught by the cops or being pressed up against me.
I know why my heart's beating like mad.
I try to even my breathing so I can listen in on what's happening inside. The cops' voices are muffled through the walls. I glance at John B who is trying to peek inside. His brows furrow together in confusion at what he's seeing. When he looks up at me, I mouth "what" but he only shakes his head.
JJ tries to shuffle around his footing, which only makes him fumble more and lose his balance. I can't help the gasp that escapes my mouth. I grip on to both JJ and the corner of the wall so neither one of us fall. Unfortunately, as I try to save both of our lives, the gun slips out of JJ's pocket and creates an even bigger scene.
I squeeze my eyes tight and press myself deeper into the rotting wooden siding of the motel, praying that the police think it was only a bird or a squirrel. When I peek one eye open, I see John B grimacing against the building too. He shakes his head again for me and JJ not to move.
Minutes feel like hours as we wait, but eventually we hear the door close and the voices of the police officers on the balcony outside.
I exhale a deep breath and just about dive back into the room head first.
The boys follow me out the door the cops just walked out of and we meet Kie and Pope back at the boat. When they see us approaching, they both let out a sigh of relief.
"Well, that was fun," JJ says as we step back into the boat. My safe spot with nothing but water if we fall off.
"Could have warned us sooner," John B says lightly.
Kie rolls her eyes. "We would have except Pope was on the math team."
JJ turns to look at our geeky friend. "You were on the math team?"
"The cops took everything," John B says before another bickering fest could erupt between JJ and Pope. I turn to look at John B. That's what he must've seen in the room. "Like it was a crime scene."
"Did you guys find anything?" Pope asks.
"Did we find anything?" JJ says with a smirk. "No I don't think so." He holds up the gun and a stack of one hundred dollar bills. His smile grows wider. "Oh, yeah, we did."
Of course he stole them.
Pope and Kie jump up from their seats and look at JJ like he's grown two heads.
"What the hell?" Pope says in awe.
"What the hell?" Kie scowls.
"Dude, chill. Come on," JJ says, relaxed.
"Why take that from a crime scene?" Kie asks. She looks at me for some kind of explanation but I only shrug in response. I don't know what goes on in JJ's head.
JJ shrugs. "Better than cops having it."
"You serious?" Kie looks at John B who only gives her the same response I do.
Pope sits back down with his head in his hands. "I'm going to lose my merit scholarship."
JJ walks over to him and wraps his arms around his shoulders from behind him. "Hey, hey, shh, shh, shh. At least you have us, right?"
"I'm living the nightmare."
I laugh at Pope's theatrics even though I know he's genuinely worried about losing his scholarship - the only thing he has that will get him off of this damn island and make a name for himself. A selfish part of me hopes he loses the scholarship so he's forced to stay here with the rest of us, but I know that will never happen. Pope is the smartest guy I know and deserves to go off to a fancy college and be successful. The scholarship is going to give him that out we all desperately want. He's not going to lose that scholarship. I've already made sure so.
He just doesn't know it.
~ ~ ~
We dock our boat in town to grab something to eat before going back to my house. I am craving fish tacos and no one is going to stop me from getting them. As we wait outside with a couple other kids I recognize from school a couple years younger than us, paramedics and cop cars show up. Another boat pulls into the dock. A coast guard. Four men haul a stretcher off of it and wheel it up to the waiting ambulance. A sheet is drawn over the body so I can't see who it is but a sick thought races through my mind.
"Who's that?" John B asks the girl sitting near us.
"It's Scooter Grubbs. He was out during the storm," She says. I ignore the look John B casts my way and look at the girl's phone as she holds it out to us. "Check out this pic I got." She smiles sickly at it. "Dead body."
"Insane," I mumble, suddenly feeling sick and not in the mood for fish tacos.
"Holy shit." My brother says.
"What kind of boat did he have?" JJ asks her.
She puts her phone away. "Somehow, that dirtbag copped a brand new Grady-White. Everyone's out looking for it."
As soon as Kie walks out of the store carrying our food, we book it out of there. JJ tells her what happened on the ride back to the Chateau as I sit and think about how screwed we are if we get caught with the gun and money. They might think we killed him!
"So, um...we didn't see anything," Pope says as we walk into the Chateau. "We don't know anything. We need to have total and complete amnesia."
I fall on my couch and lean forward, biting my nails until I reach the nub - a nervous habit of mine. The smell of my tacos makes me queasy. They could have been swimming near that dead body yesterday. Who knows.
"Actually Pope's right for once," JJ says, plopping down on the seat next to me. He takes my hand away from my mouth and leans into the side of the couch, still staring at Pope who looks at him with raised brows. "See, I agree with you sometimes. Deny, deny, deny."
"Guys, we can't keep that money," Kie says.
"Okay, not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kie," JJ says which only makes Kie's scowl deepen.
"We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs," Kie continues. "Otherwise, it's bad karma."
"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too," Pope adds. "We gotta go dark."
JJ shrugs. "If that means we get to keep the money, then I agree."
"I don't agree," John B finally pipes up and looks between all of us.
"What? Why?"
"Just think about it," John B says. "This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas. We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than forty bucks in his pocket, and all of a sudden, he's got a Grady-White?" He shrugs and holds out his hands in surrender. "Just saying."
I don't know what to think but I'm leaning towards JJ's idea. We should keep our mouths shut but roll around in the money that we risked our lives for. Finder's keepers isn't just a saying that dies when you've reached your teenage years.
John B continues, "All right, so think about it Pope. How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?"
Pope inhales sharply. "Prostitution."
"Square groupers, bro," John B says. He looks at JJ who will understand where he is coming from. "Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance. They don't do that stuff during a hurricane. What does that mean? JJ?"
JJ smirks. "They were straight smugglin'."
John B snaps his finger that's pointing at JJ, "Smuggling. And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck."
"Hell yeah!" JJ stands up and slaps John B's hand in the Pogue handshake. "Fish on!"
Pope speaks up, "For the record, if that is a smuggling ship with illegal contraband on the inside of it...it probably belongs to someone else."
"Minor details."
"They could come looking for it," I say, not exactly taking Pope's side but just mentioning the risk so that everyone knows what we're up against. We don't know what kind of people could be looking for this shit too.
Pope nods. "Taking it would be catastrophically stupid."
JJ bends down so he's face to face with Pope and holds out the money in front of his face. "Right. Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time."
"I wouldn't say all the time," I say, grinning when JJ looks over his shoulder to glare at me.
"All we need to do is figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck. Until then, we just lay low. Just act normal."
"Right. And how exactly do we do that?" Pope says.
When his eyes meet mine, a light bulb ignites in my head. My frown is turned upside down into a smile and I lean forward so everyone can see how exciting I am.
"Kegger?"
Tag List: @notyourcupofteax @acvross-the-universe @jjmaybankzz​ @jeeperky​ @realistic-breadstick​
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anagentinwriting · 3 years
Text
Lifeline - Part 5
Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader
Word Count: 4500+
Warnings: Language, drinking, angst, fluff
Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist
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After a week of taking call after call, it was nice to get together with the girls. It wasn’t going to be a late-night, but after last weeks rough call, you just wanted to get out of your head and blow off some steam with Nat and Carol at Happy’s Hydrant. 
The Hydrant was the place to be tonight. You couldn't remember it ever being this busy, but it was a Friday night. There were always women hoping to get with a man in uniform and men hoping to get lucky with a badass woman first responder. For some, it worked like a charm, but for others, while they had to work a little harder to get some action. 
You leaned against your pool cue, watching Nat lineup her stick to the corner pocket with Carol observing from the side, sipping on her beer. Nat took the shot but missed the pocket, forcing a smirk across your lips. Nat stood up straight, rolling her eyes at you.
“Can’t win them all,” you teased, eyeing the table to find your next shot. 
Billards was your bar game. When you were attending New York University, you worked at a bar and hustled to make a few extra bucks. Guys would often undermine you at first, but you weren’t afraid to show them what you could do.  
“Hey, sweet thing, you like playing pool,” a guy said behind you as you leaned over to take a shot. 
“It seems that way, doesn’t it,” you replied, rolling your eyes. He placed a hand on your lower back, making you tense up and let out a sharp breath. You stood up straight and turned around to face him. He was standing closer to you than you expected, and you could smell the overconsumption of alcohol on his breath.
“I’ll bring the balls if you bring your rack.” He bit his lip, his eyes drifting to your chest.
“You sure you have the balls to handle me because that line was fucking terrible.”
“Do you want to find out?”
“No.”
“Come on, girl.” He stepped even closer to you, making the back of your thighs hit the pool table. He placed his hands on your hips, and you froze in place. Your heart pounded, feeling every nerve in your body firing, telling you to run, but your mind filled with fear. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get away from those thoughts, but deep down, you knew one wrong move or smartass remark would make things worse.
“Can you...Can you please get your hands off of me,” you gulped, letting out a shaky breath.
“What’s that sweetheart?”
“Get your hands off of her asshole. She’s not interested,” Nat's voice hit your ears, and you felt the weight in front of you disappear.
“Yeah, take a walk prick,” Carol shouted beside you. You opened your eyes to see the asshole retreating away, letting out a relieved breath. “How you holding up, girl?”
You shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Sorry, I kind of froze up there.”
“Don’t apologize, dude was an asshole. You’re still trying to find yourself and get your confidence back,” Carol replied, patting you on the shoulder. “You’ll find it, and when you do, we’ll be right there with you.” You nodded, crossing your arms across your chest. “If you’re interested, Val teaches a self-defense class, well it’s more of a boxing class at Jabari Tribe Training Center. We could even go with you,” Carol offered, earning a nod from Nat. 
“I’ll think about it.” You shrugged, staring at the floor.
“You know what, girls, this calls for shots,” Nat commented. “I’ll be back.” She disappeared to the bar, being greeted by a few guys offering to buy her the shots.
“Hey, YN.” You peeked up at Carol before your eyes drifted back to the floor. “Promise me you won’t let that asshole ruin your night.”
“I promise.”
“Good. And not all guys are like him; some are just drunk assholes who think just because they wear a uniform, every woman wants to sleep with them when really they aren’t interested,” She sighed, staring at you. “How about we start another game then?”
“Um...yeah, let’s do it.”
______
“YN, why can’t you let me win for once?” Carol whined, leaning against her pool cue.
“Practice more, and then maybe you'll have a chance,” you smirked, feeling better after a couple of shots and another beer later.
You lined up to sink the number 8 ball in the corner pocket when someone out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. You gulped, turning your head in their direction to find Fireman Rogers. “You’re sort of ruining my concentration with your staring.”
“Didn’t know I had that effect on you.”
You scoffed, taking the shot and missing the pocket. “That’s on you.” You didn’t miss the slight nod from him and the ever-growing grin appearing on Carol’s face, watching the two of you interact.
“Ouch!” He held a hand over his heart, smirking at you.
You watched Carol sink one of her three remaining stripes into the pocket but failed to get the other two in. You nodded to yourself, setting yourself up to get the number 8 ball in the same corner pocket. Shooting a quick glare towards Steve, he held up his hands, trying to hide his smile by taking a sip of his beer. You hit the white ball, sending it right towards the number 8 ball, sinking it into the corner pocket.
“Well...that’s game. Rogers, you’re up. Time for you to take on the champ.” Carol walked over to him, forcing the pool cue to his chest until he grabbed it, and she shot you a quick wink over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.
“Smooth,” you whispered under your breath.
“What was that?” Steve questioned, leaning a little closer to you.
“Bring it, Rogers.”
_______
With one last hit, the number 8 ball sunk into the center pocket. “And with that, the champ remains the champ. Good game though, you weren’t...bad.”
“Not bad, huh? Maybe you caught me on an off day.”
“Will save the rematch for another day then.” You put the pool cue back on the wall and went to your usual table, taking a seat on one of the high stools. You take a sip of your beer, noticing Steve taking the chair across from you.
“How did you get so good at pool?”
“I worked at a bar in college and got really good at it. Even hustled a few people to get some extra cash.”
“Did they deserve it?” He asked with a chuckle. 
“Of course,” you smirked, taking a sip of your drink. Your eyes traveled around the bar, spotting your brother with a group of ladies. It still baffled you how he could finagle himself into any group, whether it was to make friends or take someone home. In this incident, it looked to be taking someone home. Thor wrapped his arm around one of the ladies and headed out the door.  “Well, I’m in no rush to get home now.”
“Why is that?”
“My brother just walked out the door with his latest conquest.” His eyes traveled to the door. “Now in the morning, I will have to make small talk with her, and poor Darryl is gonna have to hear them…” you shake your head, not finishing the sentence. “Good thing I got him noise-canceling headphones.”
“Good thing.”
“How are you liking the 107 so far?”
“It’s...” Steve started only to be interrupted by Sam.
“Okay, so Thor just left with the woman I was hitting on all night. Can’t your brother give another brother a chance,” Sam added, taking a swig of his beer. 
“That’s my brother for…”
“Steve, I heard you just got your ass handed to you in pool. Way to go, girl.” Bucky held up his hand, and you high-fived him. “Steve’s good. He always kicks my ass.”
“Well, that’s because you suck at it,” Sam added.
“Well, at least I can get a woman to go home with me.”
“That’s cold.”
“You can’t get every woman to go with you,” Nat added, taking the stool next to yours.
“Wanna bet.” Bucky licked his lips, earning a scoff from Nat. “Listen here, everyone. I am about to share Mr. Barnes Fling Tips 401. That’s right, this is senior college level, no freshman 101.” He takes a drink of his beer. “First: Get the lovely woman’s attention; catch her eye at the bar, smile at her, send her a drink, whatever you need to do to get her to notice you. Number two: once she notices you, disappear for a little while to see if she looks for you. Then, when she least expects it, go over to her and introduce yourself. Then, this is where the real flirting happens; smirk at her, put a hand on her thigh, bite your lip, any of the telltale signs you’re interested. Then finally, she will take your hand, and that’s when you take her home. We both have meaningless sex and then move on. We both get exactly what we wanted.”
“You’re terrible.” Nat rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Says the female version of me,” he smirked.
“You wish, because then maybe, just maybe, I would give you the time of day and sleep with you. But, you’re not worth it. I don’t think I could ever sink low enough to sleep with you.”
“Ouch, doll, ouch.” He held his hand over his heart, feigning hurt in his eyes.
“I would feel bad, but we both know you don’t have a heart when it comes to women.”
“One right after another. You’re on fire, Red.”
“I don’t have time for this. Come on, YN, let's go get another drink.” Nat grabbed your hand and pulled you to the bar with her.  
“Is it just me, or was that a whole lotta sexual tension right there?” Sam asked Steve as soon as Bucky stormed off.
“I would say so,” Steve nodded in agreement.
________
You classified yourself as a people watcher, and you always found it interesting to watch people interact with one another. You'd often see the people looking to hookup. A bachelorette party with an overly flirty bride to be who may or may not make a mistake tonight. Those people who came out to drink for fun; those that drink because they have a problem; the new parents that needed to get out of the house, or the couple still getting to know one another. You never met any of these people in your life, but you couldn’t help but create their life story. 
It was like the couple sitting close together in the booth to your right. They were falling for each, whether they planned it or not. It was easy to tell with the way they looked at each other. You felt that way once, too. The feeling that you and him were the only two in a crowded room. You thought it was love, but looking back, maybe it was something different. Something toxic, like a poisonous gas entering the air without you knowing, and sooner or later, you're gasping, trying to find the last bit of oxygen. But, it’s no use because you’re trapped, and every breath you take only makes you weaker and unable to move, and eventually, it ends up taking everything from you. 
“Hi, again.” Steve takes a seat on the stool next to you at the bar, pulling you out of your head. “Everyone keeps leaving me, and I didn’t want to look like that loser in the bar sitting by himself.”
“So you came over to join me? Who was sitting by herself looking like a loser?”
“Yeah, but now we can be losers together,” he chuckled, making you smirk. 
“Speak for yourself,” you chuckled, picking at the label on the beer bottle.“You and Bucky became fast friends.”
“Yeah, well, we have known each other since we were kids.”
“Wait, you grew up here?” You turned your heads towards him, narrowing your eyes at him.
“No in Brooklyn. Brooklyn, New York.”
“Get out--” you hit him on the arm “--I used to live in Brooklyn.” 
“Really? Small world,” he smiled, leaning in a little closer to you to hear you better over the music playing on the jukebox. “What made you move out here?” 
“Story for another time,” you pointed the tip of your beer bottle at him. 
He nodded, “So why a 9-1-1 dispatcher?”
“You’re full of questions, aren’t you, Steve?” 
He shrugged with a small chuckle. “A few.”
“Did you get dragged out tonight, too?” You asked, taking a sip of your beer.
“What makes you think that?”
“Think it was so our friends could get a little action.” Your eyes traveled around the bar to see Bucky leaving with a redhead, and Nat had her hand on a guy's bicep with a flirty expression on her face. You had no idea where Carol went, and Sam must’ve left after realizing his luck ran out. Poor guy.
“So it would seem,” he smirked, glancing around the room. 
You felt your phone vibrate, and you glanced down, seeing a message from Nat. 
Nat: Heading out! Hope you can find a way home ;)
YN: Yeah, it’s called an Uber
Nat: (rolling eyes emoji)
“And with that, my ride just left.” You locked your phone, sliding it back into your pocket.
“Yeah, my ride left about five minutes ago.” Steve sighed, staring at his beer bottle. “What do you say about getting out of here?” 
You glanced at him underneath your eyelashes. “I hope you know you're not getting in my pants.” 
���Oh, I know, I didn’t mean it like that, but maybe another time,” he winked, forcing you to crack a smile. 
“Smooth, Rogers. Smooth,” you commented. “And here I thought you were a goody-to-shoes.”
“Most people do, but I am far from it.”
“I am seeing that now,” you chuckled, swallowing the little bit left in your drink. He nodded, glancing around the bar. “Are you ready?”
“For what?” 
“To get out of here?”
“I didn’t mean…” His head snapped to you with raised eyebrows.
“I know, another time,” you teased, seeing the corner of his mouth turn up. “Are you coming because your half-full beer says otherwise?”
He looked at it, then back over at you. Something in his blue eyes shifted from playful to curious in a matter of seconds. “Let's blow this popsicle stand,” Steve smirked, downing the rest of his drink. 
“Easy there, don’t want to have to carry you out of here,” you commented as he reached behind him and slipped on his jacket. 
“Haha.”
You felt the chill in the air as soon as you walked out the front door of the bar. It felt like fall was just around the corner, and it only brought goosebumps to your skin.  
“How far is home?” Steve asked.
“About thirty blocks north, but you don’t have to walk with me. I just figured you didn’t want to look like a loser sitting at the bar by yourself.”
“Thanks, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t mind. I have nothing waiting for me at home, and this way, you have some company.”
“Or do you just not want me to get mugged or something?”
“Maybe that too,” he chuckled, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “So you live with your brother? Why don’t you have your own place?” 
“I’ve been looking, and I did find one I love. The only problem is I don’t know what to say to Thor.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand.” He added. “It will probably be hard for him at first, but it’s always hard to start over,” Steve mumbled like he knew from his own experience. 
“Yeah, but you haven’t experienced softie Thor.”
“Softie Thor?”
“Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but he still sleeps with his baby blanket. He calls it Mjolnir, and it has all kinds of different hammers and tools on it. He says he doesn’t have it anymore, but the last time I saw it, it was hiding under his pillow.”
“Really?” he smiled, shaking his head. “The big guy. Yay, tall--” he gestured with his hand “--blonde hair, god-like deep voice girls fall for, and he still sleeps with a blankety?” You nodded. “Yeah, I can say I have never seen that side of him.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
You rubbed your upper arms, hoping to keep the chill at bay but having little to no success. You always seemed to forget to grab a jacket before going out. “Why did you transfer to LA from Brooklyn?”
“Now, look who is full of questions?”
“Call me curious.” You shrugged, catching his eye before his return back to the ground.
“Fine, but then you have to answer one of my questions.” You nodded. “Okay, well, I transferred because I needed a new start after some bad stuff went down.”
“Why, what happened?”
“Trying to pull a fast one on me. I like it, but my turn.” You let out an annoyed sigh. “What did you do when you lived in Brooklyn?”
“Fair question." You nodded. "I was an ER nurse. It was both stressful and satisfying at the same time. On the one hand, I didn’t know what was going to come through the doors, but on the other hand, bringing someone back on the brink of dying gave me a rush. I can’t even explain the feeling; I loved my job.”
“Then, why leave?”
“I needed a fresh start.” You glanced over at him, and he nodded, biting his lip. “Looks like we left for the same reason.” 
“Maybe this is fate's way of telling us we both deserve a second chance.” 
“If you believe in that sort of thing,” You shivered, running your hands over your arms to get them to warm up. 
“Here.” Steve started pulling off his worn-out brown leather jacket and offering it to you.
“No, you keep it. I don’t want you to get cold.”
“Don’t worry about me? I’m like a body heater.”
“Fine, but if you get cold, you better tell me.” You slipped it on, feeling the warmth envelop you. His scent on his jacket made your insides twist. You pulled it tight around you, feeling your body warm up in an instant. 
“I will,” he smiled, putting his hands in his pants pockets, shrugging.
You walked in silence for a block or so when you stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the walking figure to appear. “What was it like growing up in Brooklyn with Bucky?”
He chuckled. “Well, it’s a funny story actually because it all started in grade school.” He glanced at you as if asking if he wanted to hear it. “I was drawing on the playground one day at recess. And at the time, I was a sickly little kid, and my mom told me I couldn’t play sports because I had a lot of health problems when I was younger before I became this.” He gestured to himself, making you roll your eyes. “Anyways, I was drawing, and these bullies came over and stood in my light and poured water over my notebook…”
“Those assholes.”
“Yeah, right,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. The crosswalk person appeared, and they started walking again. “I was never one to back down from a fight, so I stood up to him. He pushed me, and I fell, but I got back up and tried to push him, but ended up getting pushed down again, this time landing in a mud puddle. Then, Bucky came over, and straight-up punched this dude in the face. I think we were six at the time.”
“Oh my god, are you kidding?” Your mouth dropped over, and you covered it with your hand.
“Wish I was. Bucky told him to pick on someone his own size and sent him crying. After that, we became pretty good friends.”
“Do you still have the never run from a fight mentality?” You eyed him over and noticed him keeping a close eye on you.
“Yeah, I just don’t like bullies.” He shrugged as comfortable silence fell between the two of you once again. “You said you needed a fresh start. What were you running from?” You stared hard at the ground, biting your lip, not sure if you wanted to lay it all out for him. “Question for another time. How about a counter-question,” he hummed, thinking it over as you watched him mull over what to ask next. “How was it growing up with Thor?”
“Thor and I were never close growing up, which is crazy considering I live with him now. He was my older brother, he had his friends he always hung out with, and I was the younger sister. What older sibling wants to hang out with their younger sibling unless their parents ask them to? We got along, but I grew up being close with our adopted brother Loki. When Thor graduated from high school, he tried college but found it wasn’t for him, and then one day decided to move to LA and become a firefighter. After he moved, I didn’t talk to him much. Loki and I stayed in Brooklyn, I got my nursing degree, and he went into Broadway production. We were a scattered out set of siblings, living on two different coasts.”
“If you and Thor were never close, why move here and live with him?”
“I knew he would help me find myself again.” 
“What do you mean by that?”
“Thor was the brother that wasn’t afraid to make a fool of himself to get me to laugh or feel better. He could get things off my mind when I needed to, plus he’s easy to talk to. Loki’s more of the conservative brother that has a plan and can be a diva at times. I love them both, but I knew starting here would be the fresh start I needed.” You shrugged in his jacket. “I think you owe me at least three extra questions.” 
“Depends what you qualify as a question.”
“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be, wise guy.” You pushed him on the arm. “My turn to ask, let’s see, hmmm.” You tapped your chin with your finger. “How did you and my brother bond so fast?”
“I don’t know. It’s what you have to do in this job, trust your team. Besides, like you said, your brother is easy to get along with after you get past his ego.”
“He does have a big ego,” you nodded with a chuckle.
“What’s the hardest part about being a 911 dispatcher?”
“Really? Already asking a question. I think you still owe me a couple, but I’ll oblige.” You took in a deep breath and let it out, thinking it over. “When the caller hangs up, and you never know what the outcome is. Like, am I making a difference, am I helping? Being a nurse, I knew the outcome because I was there for everything, but here, all you can do is send help. I could look at the records and see what happened, but what if it’s not the outcome I hoped for.” You stared at the ground in front of you. “It’s almost like never finding out an ending to a movie or a book. I want to know what happened, but maybe it’s better left not knowing. After they hang up, sometimes you don’t get time to process it because there is another caller with another emergency.” 
“I get it. Sometimes what we do can be a horror movie. It can give us nightmares if you can’t save someone or can’t get there in time,” Steve’s voice drifted off. “You can play it over in your head to figure out what you could’ve done differently, but sometimes the ending you wanted to happen was never going to happen.” He stared wide-eyed at the ground before glancing your way. There was something different in his eyes, like a nightmare he never quite escaped. “And you’re right, it’s one call after another with little to no recovery time in between.”
“But, then you get those calls where everything goes right, and it makes everything you’re doing worth it.” You shot him a warm smile, earning a nod from him.
“Have to say I agree with that.”
Both of you remained silent for a couple of blocks. These careers were tough to talk about. Everyone called you heroes, but sometimes it was hard to feel like a hero.
“Why did you want to be a fireman?”
“Simple, I like helping people, but like any job, it takes a toll.” He shrugged, glancing at you. “When your adrenaline is pumping, and every nerve in your body is firing. There is pressure put on us, and we never know how things will turn out, but we have to assure those we are trying to save that they are going to be okay. It’s like in a moment's notice we have to drop everything because we are the only help that is coming, and we have to try and save them from what could be the worst moment in their life.”
“It’s almost like you rehearsed that. Did you...did you rehearse that?” You joked, forcing him to crack a smile.
“Shut up, so what if I did.” He nudged your side, making you laugh out loud. It was a real laugh, the kind you haven’t had in a long time. It wasn’t a simple chuckle or a forced giggle, but for the first time in a long time, it sounded happy. Maybe, this is what Bruce was talking about when he told you to talk to someone. Weirdly enough, you did feel lighter, like some of the weight was lifted off your shoulders with this one conversation. 
You came to a stop in front of a cozy little townhouse Thor and Darryl rented. It wasn’t huge. It was a two-bedroom home that an elderly couple raised their little girl, Hope, in. You only met Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne a few times, but they were a lovely couple that decided to rent out that home and retire next to the ocean. 
“This is me.” You waved your hand at the house and started pulling off Steve’s jacket when he stopped you. 
“Hold on to it for me.  I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
“Awful sure of yourself, what makes you think I want to see you again?”
“A guy can hope, can’t he. If it helps, my jacket looks a hell of a lot better on you.” 
“It’s helping,” you breathed a smirk, pulling the jacket around you. “Goodnight, Steve. Thanks for the talk and the walk home.”
“Glad I could help. Have a nice night, YN,” he waved, watching you walk up the steps and use your keys to unlock the door. You opened the door and turned around to find him waiting for you to safely get inside. 
“I want you to know, I am still holding you to answer one question,” you added, opening the door wider.
“Look forward to answering it,” he smiled as you walked in and shut the door behind you.
______
AN: Thanks for reading Part 5! This is probably a chapter you all have been waiting for...more Steve action! Haha! What did you think of the round of twenty questions?! We got a little bit more backstory on her, and a little more about Steve. He left to get a new start, too, any theories as to why?! I mean, I know, but I'm curious where your heads are at! Also, I don't know much about billiards/pool rules, it's basically what I have learned through watching people play it, so if it’s totally off my bad! Again, thanks for reading, reblogs, likes, and comments always welcome!
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cathrrrine · 3 years
Text
The Devil's In The Details
Originally from my AO3
SPN X MCU - Steve Rogers x Winchester!Reader
Chapter 3 - Little Angel
The sound of rain pattering against the roof of the car almost lulled you to sleep, so you turned up the music, hoping to wake yourself up a little with the upbeat tune playing on the radio. Your fingers tapped against the wheel, enjoying the rhythm of the song.
In front of you was the sleek, black 67’ Chevy Impala that you knew like the back of your hand. How could you not? You basically lived in it for more than half of your life—it was a home for you and your brothers because it was the one constant you had in your lives. You still remembered it’s every nook and cranny and the way the leather seat felt under your skin. If you closed your eyes you could still hear the hum of its engine.
You were following them from behind to drive to their bunker. A day ago you never even thought you’d say that you were going to meet your mom for the first time since you were two years old.
Steve knew about your past. You’ve laid all the cards on the table somewhere along your relationship. He knew about your brothers, your hunting life, the kind of monsters you’ve encountered. He was no stranger to the life you lived before you were an Avenger, so when you told him that your mother was brought back to life, he wasn’t that surprised.
Although he was shocked and in disbelief for a moment, it didn’t take too much to convince him that what you were saying was true. So, here you were with a bag packed if you had to stay overnight, on your way to meet Mary Winchester.
“Be careful, angel face. Call me as soon as you get there and call me if anything happens.” He had told you before you opened the door of your car. “Promise?”
“I promise, babe. Don’t worry about me.” You smiled as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m the one who should be worried. What if James gets his nightmares again?”
“Hey, hey. It’ll be fine. It’s not like this is the first time it will be just the two of us.” He chuckled, looking down to James who was hugging your leg tightly. “Right bud?”
“I’m gonna miss mommy.” He pouted, and you couldn’t resist the urge to bend down and pick him up, setting him on your hip.
“Mommy’s gonna miss you too, pumpkin.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. “Take care of daddy for me, okay?”
“Will you be gone a long time again?”
“No, it won’t be long, baby.” You assured him, but a small part of you wondered if that was going to be the case. You hoped what you said to him was true. Spending a long time away from your baby seemed like a nightmare. “Before you know it, I’ll be here to plant kisses on your cheeks again.”
He giggled, “Okay, mommy.” He grabbed your hair in his tiny fists, making you scrunch your nose up in fondness. After handing him to Steve, Tony and Natasha went over to hug you, knowing that what you were about to face was anything but easy.
“Take care of yourself, kiddo.”
“You know the drill. Call me if you need me.”
Their support meant everything to you. In the whole six years of knowing them, you’ve begun to think of them as family.
You slowed the car down as you turned to a narrow intersection, and you hit the brakes as soon as the Impala in front of you came to a stop.
The place you were parked in front of fit the word ‘bunker’ perfectly. It wasn’t anything flashy or shiny, just a concrete building on a small hill that was covered with patches of dry grass and soil.
You pressed the button that stopped the car engine—thanks to Tony, everyone on the team was suited with high-tech equipment—and stepped out of the car, walking towards your brothers who had done the same.
“This is the bunker, huh?” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket, already feeling the chilly breeze.
“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy like your tower. But we make do.” Dean replied with a sharpness to his tone, not even bothering to make eye contact. He strolled off to the entrance and you followed behind, keeping your distance.
When you stepped in, you took in all of it with a wave of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. You observed the layout of the building; the metal railings in front of you, the high ceilings and the tiled walls. There was a octagon-shaped table with a built-in map on the glass surface, a number of cushioned chairs surrounding it.
You gawked in awe, it wasn’t anything you had expected. Part of you was jealous that your brothers had found the bunker after you had left, but there was a bigger part of you that was elated that your brothers had made it into a home of their own.
You could tell they did so. You recognised a few of their own stuff scattered here and there throughout the room; Sam’s jacket draped over a chair, a coffee mug on the table, a pair Dean’s sunglasses that he had worn since he was 20 near it. It was all just little things, but they were personal items that made it obvious that the space belonged to them.
The three of you had spent so many years living from motel to motel that having a consistent place to go back to every time seemed like heaven. You already knew how that felt like, and you were glad they did too.
“Yeah.” Sam whispered from behind you. “I know.” He saw the glint in your eye when you looked around the room.
You pursed your lips, not knowing what to say.
“Mom’s in there.” Dean pointed through an archway, you looked through it and saw a row of tables lined up. “She knows we brought you.”
You gulped, nervous and excited at the same time. You could feel your heart throbbing in your chest. I’m not ready for this.
“She’s waiting, Y/N.” Sam put a hand on your shoulder, albeit a little reluctantly. “It’s okay.”
Your feet dragged itself to walk down the stairs and through the archway, finding that it was a library room as soon as you saw the bookracks that lined the walls. It was a well-lit space, with a number of magnificent pillars standing in between the bookracks and the tables.
“Y/N.”
You whipped your head around to see a blonde woman with familiar gray-blue eyes, the same ones you’ve seen in your reflection. Your heart almost stopped at the sight of her. It seemed like a dream to see someone you’ve only ever seen in pictures in the flesh.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Her lips curled up into a small smile as she tried to make light of the situation. Mary took one step towards you. She wasn’t sure what was going through your head, she didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but all she wanted to do was scoop you up into her arms and embrace you in a bone-crushing hug.
“M-mom.” You stuttered, tears welling up in your eyes. You were at a loss for words. “Hi.”
“Oh, my little angel.” She ran to you, unable to contain it anymore. You let her wrap her arms around you as you nuzzled your face in the crook of her neck. “You’ve gotten so big. Look at you!”
Mary missed her daughter. She wasn’t too glad to hear that you had broken off from the family and didn’t stay in contact with Sam and Dean. Even though she was more than happy to be with her sons, her heart ached at the absence of her only daughter at their reunion, not knowing if she’ll ever get to see you at all.
“I missed you, mom.” You exhaled a shaky breath into her shoulder, arms still wrapped around her like you were clinging on for dear life. She was well aware how meaningful this was for you. For her, it felt like it was just yesterday that she was tucking all of you in bed, but it had been more than thirty years since you last saw her, and that hurt her very deeply. It was emotional for her too, and a little bit strange, but she couldn’t deny that what you were going through was different from what she was feeling.
“God, you’re not so little anymore. I can’t believe it.” She pulled away, wiping the tears off your cheeks with her hands and kissing the top of your head. “I missed you too.”
“I don’t think you know this yet,” you beamed when a thought popped into your head. “I’m a mom now, too.”
“Y/N! That’s amazing.” Her eyebrows shot up, a big grin starting to grow on her face. “You know, I’ve always wanted a grandchild, but this feels weird considering the fact that I still think you’re two years old.”
You laughed, tears still flowing greatly down your cheeks. “Do you want to meet him?”
“Of course, honey. More than anything.” Then she started to wonder, “Do I...get to meet the father too?”
“Yeah, yes please.” Another breathy laugh escaped your lips again, the joy bubbling in your chest was too much to be contained. “His name is Steve Rogers. He’s a great guy, mom. You’ll love him.”
“What about your baby?
“James. He’s three!” You chortled, face beaming with pride. “I have so much to tell you, Mom. You have no idea.”
She brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “I’m here, Y/N. You can tell me all about it.”
Unbeknownst to the both of you, the two men seated on the chairs in the room next to you had been listening quietly to your conversation. Sam threw a look at Dean, a stern gaze that was so bone-chilling, it even made Dean shift in his seat.
“He’s three Dean. She has a three year old son.”
“So?” He tried to look unbothered.
“Don’t you feel any remorse? Regret? She’s been alone all these years without us and we never even sent her a text.”
“She hasn’t been alone, Sammy. She’s obviously had that Captain America dude around for a while, not to mention that she’s friends with the literal Avengers.”
“You know that is not what I mean.” Sam scowled. “We’re her brothers, Dean. We should’ve been there nonetheless.”
Dean rolled his eyes, returning the same dirty look to him before standing up and heading to the kitchen. “I’m not talking about this now.”
Sam sighed, leaning back on his chair as he watched his brother walk away helplessly. He knew pushing him further would do no good.
This was hard for him. Y/N had been there for all his life, before they separated. She always had his back. When he got in trouble, she defended him. When Dean was a bit too annoying, she defended him. And when he wanted to go to Stanford, she defended him. She had been his biggest supporter and was nothing but a good sister to him. He wished he realised that before it was too late.
No matter the hardships he had been through all his life, he knew one thing for sure; his biggest mistake was abandoning Y/N all those years ago.
Would she forgive him for a sin so cruel?
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Heyyy Vaunna, I’m back after a very long writers block- (I’ve still got it actually, but I had an idea lol)
So, Hacker!Zed AU, right? Bdubs, Pungence, and Skizz are horrified of him. Way too scared to tell anyone about him, until one day, one (or all) of the three notice Zed going into medical with Etho, and the door closes behind ‘em.
Do with this what you will, imma go continue playing Hollow Knight and trying to write this fic idea I’ve had for weeks-
Raven!!! :D i do love me some Hacker Zed
link to the other Hacker!Zed chapters here
Fairly late in the game, Skizz has finished his tasks. Proud of himself, he heads into storage to find someone to buddy up with and discovers the brothers standing together inside storage, right next to the corridor that leads to electrical.
“Hey, fellas,” he says, approaching them. “What’s up?”
“Zedaph’s standing over there just looking at his tablet,” replies Bdubs in a hushed tone, as if scared he’d be overheard. “It’s freaking us out.”
Skizz opens his mouth to ask why, but then the memories of Zedaph’s previous… experiments return and he gives a shiver. “Is he planning something?”
Before either of them can reply, Etho appears from lower engine and heads into electrical. To the trio’s surprise, Zedaph follows him. As soon as he goes inside electrical, the door slides shut behind him.
The trio stare at each other in slowly mounting horror, the silence between them growing.
“Welp,” Bdubs says finally. “Etho’s dead.”
“SO dead,” agrees Skizz. “Are either of you the imposter? I wouldn’t tell on you if you wanted to pop your head in the vent in there and check on them. Cuz, like, we’ve all been traumatised by Zed before. We can’t afford to lose Etho to the trauma too.”
“Do you really think Zedaph is capable of… of doing that to Etho?” Pungence asks nervously.
The only Hermit in the trio nods. “Oh trust me, Zedaph is capable of ANYTHING. I’ve known him a long time. But unfortunately, I’m not an imposter.”
Both he and Skizz glance at Pungence, who frantically shakes his head. “Nonononono. Even if I was the imposter, which I’m not saying I am, you can’t get me to go in there. Do you have any idea what Zedaph might do to someone if they reveal they’re the imposter in front of him? This game isn’t worth my sanity.”
“Okay, you’re absolutely the imposter, but that’s fair enough,” Bdubs responds. “Maybe we should just wait out here and see what-.”
He breaks off as the door slides open again and Zedaph emerges, appearing not to notice the trio. A few seconds later, Etho comes out behind him and the two stand just outside electrical, talking quietly to each other.
“What are they saying?” whispers Pungence.
Skizz strains his ears but he can’t hear anything specific. “Dunno. Do you think they just did a task or something?”
“Or maybe they’re both the imposters and they were hoping for a double kill but there wasn’t anyone else in there and they had to wait for the doors to open again,” Bdubs suggests.
“Maybe. Let’s keep an eye on them.”
At the next meeting, Skizz ignores everyone discussing the few tasks they have left in favour of watching Zedaph and Etho, the former of whom keeps leaning over to the latter and whispering something inaudible every twenty seconds or so. It’s driving Skizz crazy to know that arguably the two most OP people in this game have some kind of secret and he has no idea what it is.
“Pungence, c’mere,” says Bdubs as the meeting finishes. “C’mere.”
Pungence reluctantly comes over to join Bdubs and Skizz. “Don’t you guys have tasks to finish?”
“I got one task left, and it’s to find out what those two have planned,” says Skizz determinedly. “I NEED to find out. C’mon.”
He and Bdubs, followed by a reluctant Pungence, trail after Zedaph and Etho as they walk together towards weapons.
“This looks SO sus,” Pungence groans. “Can’t we just forget about it and leave?”
“No, dude!” responds Skizz. “We gotta make sure Etho’s okay. If Zed traumatises him, we might never get him back.”
“Doesn’t he usually only do that if he dies first, though? And do we really think he’s just gonna do it for no reason? And on one of the best players? What if-?”
“Oh my gosh, Pungey, relax,” Bdubs says, giving his brother a friendly punch on the shoulder. “We’re just a group of crewmates done with our tasks who’re trying to keep a friend safe. That’s all.”
As Pungence starts to reply, the last task is completed, the game ends, and everyone is sent back to the lobby.
“Oh my gosh you WERE the imposter!” Bdubs laughs, glancing at Pungence. “You and Grian!”
“Yeah,” says Pungence sheepishly. “Which means neither Etho nor Zedaph was the imposter.”
“So then, what were they whispering about?” demands Skizz on their other side.
On the other side of the room, Zedaph approaches Etho and grins. “Thanks for helping me out this round, man.”
“No problem. Tell me again why you wanted to mess with them?”
“Oh… No special reason. It was just funny to make them think we had some big secret and freak them out.”
Etho frowns. “But… we DO have a secret… right? THAT secret? Or was-.”
“Yeah,” says Zedaph quickly, “but it’s just funny to play mind games with them so they’re never sure exactly what’s going on. You like being hard to read, right?”
“I guess so. Just… why THEM, specifically?”
Zedaph hurriedly searches for a response. “Oh, uh… They’re pretty easy to wind up.”
“True,” Etho says, to Zedaph’s relief. “Bdubs and Skizzle are two of the easiest people to mess with I know. Anyway, I gotta talk to Grian before we start the next match.”
“Okay, cool. No worries.”
Zedaph watches Etho leave, before turning his attention back to Bdubs, Skizz, and Pungence, who are standing on the other side of the lobby, whispering urgently to each other. When they notice him watching them, he gives a smile and a wave, and takes great delight in the forced smiles they give back to him.
It’s fun having this specific group of people so frightened of him.
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thefledglingdm · 2 years
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Umm can I request directors commentary for literally any Leopika fic you’ve written??? Love your stuff!
❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
ahhahaha thank you so much! yes, absolutely! this is going to be long, because i have decided to do that scene in light of my life, pain of my ass. beware LONG BULLSHIT and spoilers below the cut!
ok to set the scene. i was TERRIFIED to write this part. because this is the climax, you know? we've had 150k words of build-up and emotional tension to this scene. while this has been a romantic story, this is the actual climax of the story. we've spent all this time in kurapika's head as he's dealt with his anxiety, his need for control, his fear of letting go. how he's changed as he's opened up his heart and his life to people outside. and finally he's actually working through all of his emotions and the progress he's made out loud, in front of everyone. and because he forgot about giving his speech until like five minutes before (sorry, kp), he is forced to speak from the heart.
For five agonizing seconds, Kurapika stood alone in the middle of a silent room. Above him, the string lights coalesced into a single shared point of soft white light that illuminated his space.
i so wish this could be adapted to, like, netflix or made into a movie. i put so much into this imagery. the play on light? the cinnamon topography? *chef's kiss* yes please netflix CALL ME.
Everyone in his life was staring at him expectantly, Pairo and Altair and Gon and Killua and Nanika and Alluka and Kalluto and his parents. And approximately a hundred other people on top of that, extended family on both sides, industry insiders, coworkers. All staring at him and waiting for him to say something amazing and powerful and deep about love and what did Kurapika know about love, anyway? He was a thirty-two year old trans man so terrified of his own emotions, so paralyzed by his fear of loss, that he did not figure out he was in love with his best friend until three weeks ago.
this is me screwing the knife in deeper for poor kurapika, sorry. this is so incredibly horrifying for a person with anxiety, as someone with anxiety. behold, the terrifying ordeal of being known.
Five seconds. Kurapika finally found Leorio standing near the back, leaning against the bar. He wondered if Leorio picked the same spot where they sat together the very first time they came here on purpose. Leorio sent him a wink and a thumbs-up.
the terrifying ordeal of being known and being so, so loved anyway. it was great to write in a way that showed leorio realized he was in love with kurapika first (indeed, realized that kurapika was in love with him before kurapika knew himself), because these little interactions shows so much how leorio is inviting and allowing kurapika to come to him on his own time. and supporting him the whole way, because they are friends!!!!
Breathe, Kurapika thought. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay.
this statement was not supposed to be a running theme/motif, but i'm super glad it did! i wrote it as a one-off line for melody, but then i was like, hang on, that's kinda good? every other time i write i'm like, hey, you could make a theme out of this!
“Um,” Kurapika started, his voice cracking. Christ, he sounded seventeen again. He cleared his throat.
my friends told me about how their voices changed and dropped on T. any trans person is stronger and more powerful than any us marine.
“For those of you who may not know, I’m Pairo’s brother. Kurapika. His older one, just to be clear.”
this is definitely something that has happened like a hundred times.
There was a smattering of chuckles around the room. He twisted to look at Pairo. “I’ve known Pairo since he was a toddler dragging a ragged, threadbare T-Rex plushie around behind him. I was there when he read his first chapter book on his own – Dino Hunter, of course – because he came bursting into my room at two o’clock in the morning to tell me about it.” Another round of laughter. “I was there when he got his first notebook, when he won his first writing contest, when he was published in his first magazine. I was the first person he told about liking boys instead of girls. I’ve watched him grow and learn and fall in love. And now Altair is part of our family, too.”
pairo and kurapika's lives as brothers were amazing. dino hunter is a reference to the book they both read in the manga that led to kurapika wanting to leave the kurta and explore the world.
i also thought that writing fit pairo well because it's a pretty accessible career for his eyes. he could type, he could enhance the screen and font when he needed, and he could do talk-to-type. one day i want to write a side-story of when pairo and altair met, because i have it perfectly formulated in my head and it's adorable.
Kurapika took a deep breath, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. He confessed, “To be perfectly honest, I was scared when Pairo asked me to do this, because I’ve run out of things to teach him. He’s run on ahead of me in life. Settled down, moved in with his boyfriend – now husband, congratulations on that by the way – and gotten married, while I’m perpetually single and living alone in my loft apartment with an absolutely spoiled monster of a cat. Stop laughing, that wasn’t supposed to be a joke.”
emperor the cat was also not intended to be a character. i came up with him like, right before i started writing the chapter.
i think it was hard for kurapika to watch his brother fall in love and move on ahead in life. even if he was genuinely happy for them both. i had a conversation with a coworker a few months ago where we both talked about how we feel like we are "behind," even though we're both very accomplished. she felt like she was "behind" because i have a master's degree; i felt like i was "behind" because she was happily married and already had a child on the way (who is here and beautiful and perfect). and i imagine kurapika wondered if he was falling behind or missing something when he saw his brother succeed in love and business without really trying.
but there's no competition at all, of course. the world spins on, and we grow and change and find our place in our own time. there's no race.
The room quieted again. Kurapika went on, his eyes flicking over the crowd. He was starting to smile, too, now.
he's starting to realize this is okay, he's not going to mess up, he may actually have something worthwhile to say or share. he's getting more comfortable in all this.
“But I’m also a wedding planner – I know, ironic – and I’ve learned a lot about love from my clients. So if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to share some of those lessons now.”
No one from the back shouted at him to shut the fuck up, that he didn’t have a single clue what he was talking about, so he thought he was safe to carry on.
how funny would that have been??? like, it would have been fucked-up and humiliating, but in any other situation?? hilarious. just killua looking like that dude in mean girls being like HE DOESN'T EVEN GO HERE except it's like HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT LOVE IS.
He thought back to Light of My Life’s various couples, musing over their own rocky paths to the altar and the beautiful, fractured glimpses into their lives they gifted Kurapika and his team. What did they teach him? What did they teach his heart, that terrifying, terrified lump of meat frantically beating in his chest?
More than you think, his heart seemed to be telling him. Trust me; I will guide you through this. Trust me, trust me, trust me.
*"listen to your heart" plays in the background*
also like. trusting oneself and your perceptions and your feelings and your heart is so necessary. it's an important part of healing. and being honest with yourself and your feelings is part of a foundation for all healthy relationships, i think.
also i really like writing alliteratively. the play on words with "terrifying, terrified" was. inspired? terrifying, because kurapika for a long time feared his own heart and feelings, viewing them as a loss of control; and terrified, because his heart is afraid, too. and they are taking this leap together!
And Kurapika explained: “Love isn’t just found in eloquent professions or grand, romantic gestures. It’s supporting each other through your lowest, worst moments and coming out the other side stronger for it. It’s standing together, hand in hand, against the world. It’s in looking at someone simply existing in the world and seeing them as they are: good, beautiful, strong, intelligent, kind. It’s in your communication and your foundation and trusting that all good things will come together in time. It’s in the family that you build together. It’s in the work you each put in to get through the hard times. Together.”
me: yeah uh-huh jj you really did summarize the fic so far.
this is also where i started being sappy and thinking about love. friendly and romantic love. the love i've seen in my friends, the love i feel myself in my relationships.
There. That’s what his clients taught him. Menchi and Buhara; Morena and Theta; Pokkle and Ponzu; Knov and Morel; Knuckle and Shoot; Canary and Amane. But so many more people showed him what love was. He pictured Pairo and Altair on his couch, laughing at him and judging him and helping him put his own puzzle-piece heart together into something cohesive and beautiful. He smiled at his brothers and saw the way they were clutching each others hands, mouths beaming and eyes dewy.
they LOVE their brother so MUCH. their view of the outside looking in for the past year, watching kurapika fall in love, go soft, be happier than they've ever seen him.
He told them, “It’s in the way you can communicate in gestures and looks, and sometimes, without looking at all. It’s in banter and private jokes and finishing each other’s sentences. It’s in casual touches and... pouring their coffee before your own.”
my coffee is never as good as when my partner makes it. my honey-lemon tea is never as good as it is when my partner makes it. my jokes are never as funny as they are when my partner and i finish each other's sentences, build off of each other's quips. we can communicate across rooms with nothing but a look. these little signs of love are everywhere and expressed in so many tiny ways. these examples here are between people in romantic relationships, but these apply to platonic friendships as well.
His eyes swept the room and found Killua and Gon. Gon had his camera hefted onto one shoulder, and Killua stood behind him, arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder. “It’s on the first day you wake up and realize the way you look at the world has changed. The way you open your hands and your heart and give what you have, simply for the joy of being received.”
to love? transcendent. to be loved? incandescent. to love and know that it is valued and cherished and requited?
and this was a callback to killua talking about, of course, how he fell in love with gon like melting ice. like sinking into a bath. and this was also a quieter callback to how gon fell in love. because it wasn't just that he had/has so much love to give, but because for the first time in his life, he got to see it truly received. accepted.
Kurapika saw Killua’s breath catch and Gon’s hand flex over the fingers interlaced over his middle. Heedless of their surroundings and of the running camera, Gon twisted to kiss Killua on the mouth.
SMOOCHES ahahaha!
He turned his head back to Leorio. The man had not moved; indeed, he looked like he was nailed to the floor. His eyes were so intense as they watched him that Kurapika was almost surprised he had not yet burst into flame. Kurapika said, “It’s in the moment you see someone you’ve never met before, but you look at them and just know, to your core, that this is really going to be something.”
leorio realizing something is happening here. something huge is about to happen, is about to change. and he's trying so hard not to dare to hope it might be good. it might be everything.
A chorus of oohs went around the room. Even from this distance Kurapika saw the way Leorio’s face went red, and he ducked his chin, looking bashful and embarrassed.
leorio: holy shit holy shit holy SHIT IT'S HAPPENINGGGG
How was I such a fool before, Kurapika wondered, How was I so blind, so willfully ignorant and oblivious. How did it take me so long to realize you were talking about me. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I’m sorry I made you wait for so long.
this is important because it's not just kurapika realizing and accepting his feelings for leorio. this is kurapika's version of realizing that leorio feels the same for him. leorio is in love with him, too. and he's wondering how it was possible he was so scared and blind for so long. he fears he may have hurt leorio by holding off on this for so long, so he wants to be brave, take the leap, and see what they could be.
Kurapika did not want this man to wait another second. He did not want Leorio to spend another moment trapped in this limbo. So he confessed in the middle of a silent room in front of over a hundred people, “It's the first time you hear them laugh, and your entire world’s axis shifts beneath your feet.”
i remember the first time i met my partner. i remember the first time i looked at them and felt my world shift a little to the right. i remember falling in love and thinking that this one was unlike all the others. it was warm, golden, comforting.
Kurapika watched the confused frown on Leorio’s face when he heard that, amused by the almost puppyish tilt to his head as he considered it. He knew the moment Leorio realized what he meant when his eyes blew wide, amazed and awed and achingly soft. His lips parted.
gOD he is so CUTE. he's like oh hmm huh what does that mean
and then he remembers
i promise, he's not a huge dickwad!
and leorio laughing at gon's accidental gaffe and his sweet earnestness. and kurapika walking in. leorio realizing kurapika wanted to know him before they ever even met.
Kurapika made himself turn away from the arresting sight. “One of my favorite venues lately was the Roseview Ballroom downtown. Among its many beautiful, gaudy attractions are its murals depicting scenes from Shakespeare’s plays all across the ceiling. One is a famous quote from Twelfth Night: ‘journeys end in lovers meeting, every wise man’s son doth know.’ But the more I think about it, the less I agree.”
i'm such a WHORE for shakespeare, as any readers of mine will know. check out my modern college adaptation of much ado about nothing.
He turned to meet Pairo’s eyes again, repeating, “‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.’ But nothing is ending here. It’s just changing.”
life does not end when we start relationships! or when they end! or when we move, change jobs, graduate, go to school, drop out of school. happy endings in stories still aren't endings. the greatest constant in life is change.
“Because what I’ve learned in this job, Pairo and Altair, what nugget of wisdom I have to give you, is this. Love is looking at a world that can be terrifying, cold, capricious, and indifferent, and finding the person whose hand you want to hold through it all anyway. Because you want every laugh, every tear, every wrinkle, every spark of joy. Love is life’s greatest leap of faith, because you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But you know exactly who you want to spend all those tomorrows with.”
me finishing this: dammit i just wrote out my wedding vows.
Kurapika looked around the room again. At Gon and Killua; at Kalluto, Nanika, and Alluka; at his parents; at his brothers. At Leorio.
He concluded, “So you simply breathe. And you trust it will be okay.”
There wasn’t a dry eye in the room when Kurapika dropped the microphone.
DAMN ME TOO THIS SHIT WAS GOOD TF?????? sorry my writing has peaked here.
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ladyyatexel · 3 years
Text
I Went On A Manga Binge
So you don't have to
For those of you who have wisely avoided the shreds of it I've left around the blog thus-far, I had some weird notion to go re-experience Yu-Gi-Oh uuuuuh a week ago? We'll go with that. Time is meaningless.
I'd been able to read a good portion of the early manga at the end of highschool, and somewhere in my stacks and stacks of paper is fanart from this dark time, so you know I cared. I also still own a Dark Magician action figure somehow, so. I'd also watched a large portion of the anime with my brother because it had been laced with some kind of crack and we couldn't look away? I remember when we both were just like shit, wait, don't change the channel, I can't stop looking at it. And the next thing we knew we were waiting for new episodes and I was doing research on the Japanese original because I was that kid.
Anyway, unnecessary backstory out of the way, here are some... let's call them Observations and Consequences of having read somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 chapters (and growing) of a manga primarily hinged on card games from a spectrum of sources ranging from boringly lawful to sketchy as fuck.
Surprise actual character that develops in typical shounen fashion being Jounouchi. My limited experiences with the 4Kids dub and only early manga had not painted him in a particularly good light. I don't know if episodes were being aired out of order or if I had just missed the ones that established that he was making shit up as he was going along, but Wow I liked him a lot more going through the manga than I ever did watching the (dubbed, heavily edited and censored and thrown into a slurry machine) anime. I'd managed to come out with the impression that he was just as reasonably experienced with the game as Yugi back in the day. Wild.
I'm now reading every single comic-style post on Tumblr backwards.
Striking inverse to first point, wow, I don't like Seto Kaiba. Though he gets points for his general philosophy of the future, and the line I read in my sketchy online combo of scans and scanlations in which he said, "If God is in your way, you run him down," was Metal As Fuck. I somewhat shame-facedly admit to enjoying him a lot more as an Abridged Series character. (I watched Abridged as it came out back in the day! The experience of watching the anime with my brother had been so fresh that I got all the in jokes about the way things were edited and dubbed, it was great. Series remains influential part of my life to this day, which is hella weird.)
I almost understand how Duel Monsters works now. I don't want this.
That said, wow a lot of the decisions made in the anime made everything a lot more ridiculous than the admittedly already ridiculous original. I got the distinct feeling in the manga that the Duelist Kingdom stuff we were seeing was designed to be used and exploited in ways that don't make sense in an actual cardgame just played on a table like a normal person and this was part of testing everyone to think higher, differently. Maybe this is obvious to everyone already, I don't know. I had always liked that it was very, 'Not so fast, I'm going to blow up the moon to change the tides,' but I'm not really sure the anime gave enough explanation that this was an extra layer added to things for that event? You can see people actively getting used to it in the books, and people who aren't considering the real or 3D nature of it getting owned, but my memory of anime version is everyone just like, 'oh, shucks, fuck me, I forgot to consider the phase of the moon before i played this card, can't believe I forgot.' No one calls Yugi on any of this stuff because it's valid play in that situation. Plus Yami Yugi had mad trickster energy in the beginning and it suited him to think of ways to do things inside these little simulation boxes the way it suited him to set perverts on fire. I imagine the real card game trying to emulate this element as something that would be to its detriment, but I neither know nor particular care haha
Ryou Bakura.
Really, though. I think he became kind of casualty of 'wow, we have a lot of characters who really aren't able to do anything in this story anymore,' despite the fact that his whole inner life could have been as interesting as Yugi's. I always like thinking about the possibilities of stories in which main character falls into magical world and is given magical item and told they're the hero and then they find out they've been the bad guy the whole time. The first several volumes of manga were about the quiet weirdo kid that no one talked to who was always blacking out and turning into a fucked up version of himsef because he was so attached to his ancient Egyptian jewelry, so like, Bakura could have much the same shit going on. I want to know what's happening with him so much. He clearly doesn't love being possessed, but he's also so drawn to the ring. Despite it having stabbed him at least twice and him knowing it's a danger to him and his friends, he keeps being pulled back into it. You see so much more of him being like, 'Oooh, a creepy thing, I love that! :D' in the manga than ever in the anime, which I'm all about. Also more blood. I'm very about that as well. Though my memory of the anime also made it look very much like normal regular daily Bakura was just a weird facade in places before he ever would have been. I think that was it trying to compensate for what people didn't see from the Toei anime, but okay whatever, that I love everything about this guy is not news, I don't need to talk about Bakura excessively here, I'm pretty sure that's gonna show up on my blog by itself
On a related note though, damn, more of these people need to talk to each other. Can we have some existential crisis support clubs or something. Can we get like some apologies or something? "I respect you as a duelist." "Cool, but you literally built a tower designed to specifically assassinate me and my friends? You were supposed to get Better after I retaliated by putting you in a coma, but you kinda didn't." "Why would the coma have made it better" "I just told you it didn't" ---- "Sorry I went along with the plan of your evil parasite stabbing you, misled you, and then also jumped in and took up some real estate in your head too." "I understand, I also have an evil thing inside me that does things while I'm blacked out." "...no, I was conscious for all of that." "Oh." "..." "..." "..." "Do you like Ouija Boards?" "sure okay" ETC. Like damn we are reading shounen manga because no one is talking extensively about their feelings here and I'm tapping my foot angrily.
Holy shit there are so many mythologies happening at once. The ancient family guarding the Egyptian Pharaoh has a surname that's a Mesopotamian goddess. None of the god cards make any Egyptian sense except Ra, and just like. Baaarrrrely. Somewhere either Evil Ring Bakura or Mar/lik makes a reference to cremation and spirits being taken to heaven with smoke which several things, but definitely not Ancient Egyptian. Marik/Malik meanwhile is clearly trying to head Arabic, along with Rishid, but then, hey, our sister is just Isis. Goddess McGoddess. Sometimes they're the same goddess! Her name could be Isis Isis or Ishtar Ishtar. Meanwhile, all the obviously 'occult because Christians think it is freaky' stuff. ~ancient egyptian pentagrams~~~This isn't a complaint, I guess so much as a 'Wow, I can kind of see the cultural spot the author was coming from and where he was aiming' kind of thing.
Wonder where things would have gone if the card games had not been latched onto the way they were.
Managed to forget how gross the pre-cardgames stuff was on the sexual harassment front. I'm glad there was a sort of explanation of everyone drifting away from being dick heads and that that decision was made. It got way more comfortable to read after no one was bringing Yugi p*rn on VHS.
Yugi looks better with a nose, glad we got that upgrade.
Interesting to watch the series style shift as it goes away from being horror to being over the top cardgames and friendship (with blood!). The first picture of Mokuba is fucking Jarring. Also noticed that the nicer a character is, the less their teeth are defined.
Glad manga did not go as completely off the fucking the rails about Marik's face. I never got as far as seeing him back in the day because college occurred, but I remember seeing pictures and stuff and being like, "what in the Fuck happened to that dude, I think the house style has collapsed in on itself"
Things the author Really Likes: motorcycles, belts, SHOES, holy shit the shoes. These are some of the most lovingly rendered sneakers I've ever seen. All the detail on his characters goes straight to their feet and then it's stretched upward until it forms stiff peaks. Gently fold in 3000 years of trauma and bake face down in a crumb coat of scattered mythology. Remove when you roll two zeros.
Where the fuck am I going to put the extremely large omnibus volumes of this comic I purchased in order to balance out how much I would be reading for free on the internet. I should have grasped that a three in one edition would be Thick and yet somehow I was still :O when it arrived. Have I strategically purchased volumes that contain my favorite parts, maybe, what's it to you will i eventually get the whole thing because incomplete book series gnaw on my soul? yes
Wish the transition from "I've murdered several people in delightfully karmic ways" to "all you need is friendship in your heart and cards in your hand" Yami Yugi/Pharaoh had been discussed more/transitioned better. Buddy, where did you get this approved for television high horse? Please go back to strangling people with yo-yos or at least tell me why you stopped.
I still can't tell anything that looks like a big robotic monster apart from any other big robotic monster. My dude, I can't tell cars apart, all these monsters look the same.
Yami Yugi fascinated me way more in highschool? Maybe because it was still super early and the anime was like 'we need to torture you about his origins WeEkLy. Now I'm just like 'wait hold on, can we go back to Bakura and Marik for a minute, there's some extreme unpacking to do here?' Those two are paying so much more in baggage fees here my guy wow
Violently uninterested in any of the spinoff media
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dnarez · 3 years
Text
Chapter 7 - Autumn Coat
It's been a few months since you started to work as a caretaker, nothing grand happened, but the times you left for your break once every 14 days, you always come back to a crying Keigo, and a missing mother.
The last time he wrecked the house, there was glass on the floor, footprints on the ceiling, walls painted with... wine? jelly? blood? You don't know, but it was hell to clean, which of course you made lil birb help too.
By questioning him after cleaning everything and then cleaning him, you discovered that his "mother" gave him coffee, and A LOT of it, and went her merry way to meet with someone.
---
To say that you were pissed was a mistake, you were furious, but the commission didn't let you reprehend her, so you had to teach him to not eat and drink something that his mother gave to him, without knowing what it was, and that if he drank coffee he would stop growing, which made him cry, but you promised a day outside with him, where they would eat out, maybe go to a mall, and he could have anything that he wanted.
It was his first time going out to have fun, instead of just going to the gym, or the doctor appointment, so with the 'okay card' from your boss you took him for a stroll, which is why there is a very excited Keigo jumping on your bed at 6am.
"COME. OOOOON!!! WE STILL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY AHEAD OF US!" he shouted while jumping up and down on your bed, his wings flapping behind him.
"Hun, what time it is?" you yawned and sat on the bed.
"It's 6AM! On a Monday!!!"
"I wish you would be this easy to wake up every day, it would make my mornings easier" you huff and got up. "Go wash your face, I will get changed and come to help you change yourself."
"I don't need help! I'm a big boy! I can change myself!" he pouted and crossed his arms.
You smiled at him, seeing how much he opened up to you in comparison to the first day, when he would tremble form how scared he was, and how he talked so little. "I know you can, but you need to put warmer clothes than normal, and it would be better if you didn't pick that awful t-shirt again"
"The one that his written 'Daddy's little boy' with the Endevour's face?" he tilted his head a little.
"Exactly, that one! Now go, we will eat breakfast outside today."
"Woo-hoo!" he raised both hands and was about to jump down to the floor when you held him back and fills his face with kisses "Let me go mommy!" he giggles a lot, and you keep doing it until you decide to release him.
"THE FLOOR IS LAVA!!" You shout and jumps up "If you aren't on your bedroom in 15 seconds the world is going to END!" You say dramatically and open's the door to the laundry room "1... 2... 3... aaaaaand... he's gone" as soon as you opened the door and started the countdown he flew off your small home to his room.
After fixing your bed and washing your face, you went to get changed and choose something comfy, some black jeans, a long sleeved red shirt, a black purse and your favorite beige coat that had white fur on it.
You went to his room to get him ready when you were surprised by the scene, him, Keigo, your baby birb, the cute little shit that was getting more confident with each training, that had the most beautiful smile you had ever seen.
On the floor, curled up in a ball, with a few drops of blood on the ground of the floor, and his mother with her hand in the air, like she was about to hit him...
The world was turning slowly, almost stopping, after three movements of your finger, the one that the nail was always painted black, the dame that had cut the wall.
As the world was moving slowly, you were moving like normal.
5... you calmly walked to Keigo
4... you took him on your arms
3... you put him on the bed
2... you took the pillow case from the pillow
1... you tied both of the hands of Keigo's mother.
The world was back to normal, and Keigo blinked looking at what was now his mother on the ground and you on top of her mobilizing her, while he was no longer on the floor, but on his new fluffy bed that you picked for him "so quick..." he mumbles and look at you with admiration.
You took your phone from your purse, and sat on top of her back "Hello? You saw from the cameras, didn't you? Yeah... I think she needs a few days of vacation... about a week? Okay I let her on the couch then? Thank you, good bye" you turn off the cellphone and look at Keigo who was mouth agape looking at you with shiny eyes. "Let's go?" You smile and pick him up.
"YOU WERE SO AWESOME!!! And didn't you told me to change my clothes?" He hugged your neck
"We can just buy it on the mall but... outside is really cold..." you put him back on the bed and took off your coat "here, I'll lend you my favorite coat, please take good care of it"
He sniffs the coat and is meet by the soft smell of lavender and sweetened coffee.
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He looks at you with shiny eyes, "okay!"
You pick him up again and hold his mother's ankle while you drag her to the living room. "Tomorrow is your trainer's day off, so today you can sleep later"
"Woo-hoo!!"
You chuckle and let the woman on the couch, then you go out with him.
"Let's have breakfast and then go out and about"
You carried him to the car, and there you put him on the backseat and when you were going to buckle him up he stopped you.
"Let me do it! I'm a big boy" you nod and watch as he struggles, but after some time does it.
"Good job" you kiss his forehead and goes to the front seat.
As you drive around you put some kids pop, which he sang along to the Disney songs from the movies you showed him.
As you stop at a café that you liked, "Let's go?" He unbuckles himself, and you open the door to him, picking him up again
"I can walk!"
"Not with that bare feet of yours" you tickle his feet which makes him squirm and giggle.
Walking in you take a sit and sat Keigo beside you. "You can get anything, ask away" you took the menu and give it to him "since you learn how to read better I'm sure you can pick what you want"
"Okay!..." he spends 20 minutes  choosing his food, which ended up being a chicken breast sandwich and a soda, you immediately told him no soda in the morning.
"How about some juice?" You offer
"What are you going to drink?" Keigo tilts his head to the side.
"I want to go out and by sweetened coffee from the vending machine, it's my favorite, and no you can't have some"
He giggles and nods "I want strawberry juice!"
"I'm gonna go order it to the cashier, two chicken sandwiches and a strawberry juice"
"Can I pick a dessert?"
"After you eat everything, sure, here play a game on my phone while you wait, I'll be right back" you give him your phone unlocked and go to the cashier.
Keigo is playing on your cellphone when someone approaches him, his little trained feathers don't recognize this person's vibrations, so he looks up and sees a dude with a scary look and long black hair.
They both just stare at each other "sup" Keigo say and discreetly send a feather to you and taps your feet.
You come back to the table and is surprised to see your oldest friend, you give him a big smile "Shouta-niisan!" You hug him, but he only pats your head.
Keigo looks surprised at the interaction, you don't talk about yourself, only the basic and vaguely gives information about what you did before him.
"Is this your kid?" The man looked at Keigo, the man looked like it was around 23 maybe 25.
"Yeah! I'm his-... mom, yeah! I'm his mother" you smile breaking the hug and sat down "too busy to stay?"
He nods and put a can of your favorite sweetened coffee in front of you "You're doing a good job, just be careful, you never know"
You nod back at him and give him a big smile "I will, at least I'm no longer doing patrols, don't forget to call me once a week"
"I never broke a promise, won't start now" he pets your hair and goes away.
Keigo watched the weird transactions extremely curious "Who was him? Is him your older brother? You don't look alike. Why didn't you say goodbye to him? Why does he look like a bun? Why-"
"Enough!" You put your hand on his mouth "He's an old friend, I call him nii-san because I always called him that, no we aren't blood related, he always looked like that, and... we promise to never say goodbye to each other"
"Why?"
"Because a goodbye can be forever, so we just don't say it" a waitress comes to you both and puts everything on the table.
You open the canned coffee and drink it, smiling at him as he eats, you both eat and then went shopping.
...
Keigo could fit in anything, and he would look cute you just loved the way he looked on yellow or beige, they fit well with his red wings.
"Hey mom... I wanted to know if-..." he was scared, uncomfortable maybe? About something.
"You can ask me anything Birb, there is no way that I will not answer" you kneeled on the floor besides him and looked at him through the mirror.
"What's your quirk?" He looked at you while fiddling with his hands.
You smiled at him "It's kinda hard to explain, It's better if I show it to you" you took his hand and paid for the clothing, now that he was with some clothes that were good for the Autumn cold weather.
After getting to the car you drove off to the training gym.
"Why are we here?" Keigo recognized the building quickly.
"My power can be a little destructive, its1better to do this in a place that no one can get hurt" going in you went to your private training room with the little boy following you like a baby duck.
"How destructive?" Keigo held your hand and you held his.
"Very, now stay back" you pressed a bottom on the wall "My quirk needs ink all the time to do anything, and I always have it around me, most likely on my point finger, here I can do almost anything" you made a straight line in the direction of the dummies and cut 3 at the same time, cutting through them.
"Woaaah! What else?" Keigo's wings fluffed up at your awesomeness.
You walk to the middle and make a dot next to him, a huge tree appears from nothing surprising him, he falls to the floor shocked.
"I can also make a path of flowers, and the tree will only stay there for a few seconds, but it can surprise the enemy enough to take them down" you move your finger around under Keigo's feet and there grows some flowers.
"My ability is called Celestial Brush"
"THIS IS SO COOL!" He runs to you, and you pick him up when he's close enough. "MOM YOU ARE AWESOME!"
You look at him surprised and hug him tightly "My son, you are awesome too"
You two stay like that for some time, until he bugs you to show more of your ability,  which you do, you show him each trick and technique you learned until now.
https://youtu.be/BRcfqu3hQkY (your quirk)
(Yes this is your quirk, and everything you can do with it)
After showing him everything  you picked him up and you both go back home to take a shower, eat and sleep.
Those moments in his life were the happiest that Keigo had ever been, always protected by you, he was given the love and affection that he always wanted, he didn't care for everything else, he just cared about you, because you were his true mother, the woman that he would run to when he got himself hurt, to ask about life, to ask about anything really, since you also were his teacher. When he had nightmares you would hold him until he calmed down, would kiss his head, would compliment the small things he had done, and would scout him when he did something wrong.
Keigo loved you more than anything in his life, and Hawks miss you dearly in his, because in the end, you still worked for the commission, and he too didn't have a choice when you went away for an important mission.
The day before your departure you both made a pillow nest in the living room, you induced him on his bird instincts, HD wouldn't have such luxury after you went away.
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Neither of you talked about you leaving, instead you showed him your favorite movies, snacks and old latin folktales, the feeling of sadness was there the whole moment.
You tried to give as much advice you could, and only took him off your arms to use the bathroom.
Keigo also didn't wanted to let go of you, both sleep hugging each other, you promised that you would come back as soon as you could, that tou would  ever forgive him if he died while being a hero, that you knew he was build for greatness.
Only when you had to leave that you allowed yourself to cry, at the door with only a backpack in hands, you put your coat on Keigo while he sleep, also letting your diary on his bed, to let him have you all the time.
After tucking him on his nest, you kissed his forehead and kisses his toy's head, going out of that house took a lot of strength, you didn't wanted to go, but duty called, you just hopped it would take less then a year.
. . . . .
But it didn't took a year, it took 18 years to take the ring leader down, and just now you were finally going back to Japan, and to the now number 2 pro hero Hawks.
.............. As you can see there is more to this book
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