#I think we REALLY overlooked that and FUMBLED THE FUCKING BAG

[arrowsperpetualcringe]

Milgram fans will really see a character EXPLICITLY STATE what actions a certain verdict will result in, and fucking ignore it 😭

Rambling under the cut

idk

I think it's funny that there were SO many people INSISTING that voting Amane innocent wouldn't ACTUALLY result in Shidou's death.

LOOK WHERE WE ARE NOW.

And now because of Shidou's death, there was nobody to care for Mahiru's injuries, and SHE DIED TOO

AND THERE WERE FURTHER UNFORSEEN CONSQUENCES...

Milgram is like.

Yeah, it's about "forgiveness" and other such things

But in my eyes it's also like a choose your own adventure.

The choices were laid out for us

Vote Muu guilty? Haruka dies. Vote Amane innocent? Shidou dies. And so on, and so forth.

We ignored what they had to say for whatever moral standing the individual voters may have had.

The characters.

Even tell us

THEMSELVES.

That they TOLD US.

AND WE IGNORED THEM

AND WE DID!!!

We voted

We made our bed

And now we must lie in it

Idk lol.

As you can tell I'm salty asf about the results, we lost SO MANY PEOPLE 😭

[queenofcats17]

The Ink Demonth 26

Today's theme is Mask.

And, inspired by a recent conversation I had with some friends about Wally, I thought I'd do this about Wally.

===========================================

People tended to overlook Wally. He was just the janitor, after all. Not really anyone worth paying attention to. They hardly noticed him coming into their offices to empty the trash or him sweeping in the background while they held meetings. When he wasn't talking, he was invisible to his coworkers, practically a ghost.

And that was exactly how Wally liked it.

See, it was safer to be overlooked, especially in a place like Joey Drew Studios. When shit got spooky and scary, you wanted to be the least threatening person in the room. So, Wally played the fool and put on the mask of the loud and clumsy janitor who was always losing his keys. And his coworkers started to think they knew what to expect from him. They slotted him into a box in their minds and forgot about him. They never seemed to realize just how much he saw and heard.

After all, no one pays attention to the janitor unless he fucks up.

However, there was one person who saw behind Wally's mask.

And that was Norman Polk.

Because, like Wally, very few people paid attention to Norman, which allowed him to see and hear quite a lot. Where Wally relied on people's expectations, Norman relied on just not being seen at all. Even Wally failed to notice him at times. And it was through that ability to go unnoticed that Norman realized just how many important events Wally had witnessed.

"You're a lot smarter than anyone gives you credit for," Norman remarked one day when Wally had come up to the projection booth to empty his trashcan.

Wally fumbled, nearly dropping the trashcan. "What- Whaddaya mean?" He asked, his voice pitching a bit higher in surprise.

Norman shifted slightly, languidly crossing one leg over the other. "You're a lot smarter than anyone gives you credit for," he repeated, completely calm.

"What makes you say that?" Wally avoided eye contact as he shakily emptied the bin into his trash bag.

"People don't notice, but you're in the background for a lot of things," Norman said, leaning casually back in his chair. "Business meetings, fights, conversations between our coworkers. When secrets are being spilled, you're there, just in the background."

Wally paused, then laughed as he turned to face Norman. "You fishin' for information, Norman?"

Norman put his hands up. "I'm not fishing. I'm just saying, it'd be nice to swap secrets with someone who knows as much as I do."

"Really?" Wally raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "You think I'm on your level?"

"Oh, I know you are," Norman said, returning Wally's smile with one of his own.

Wally watched him for a moment or two before giving a nod. "Alright. Meet me out back after work. We can get a drink."

Norman nodded back. "Sounds good to me."

Sure enough, the two of them met up outside the back door after the work day had ended. Norman got there first, with Wally showing up nearly half an hour later.

"Sorry," he said as he rushed out the back door. "Got chewed out by Sammy 'cause I lost my keys again."

"Why do you do that?" Norman asked as Wally gestured for him to follow as he set off down the street.

"Why do I do what?" Wally glanced back.

"Why do you pretend to be an idiot?" Norman picked up his pace a bit to keep up with Wally. "You lose your keys on purpose. I've seen you drop them in a trashcan and pick them up again later."

"Wasn't always pretending," Wally insisted. "The first couple of times I really did lose my keys."

"But why keep doing it?" Norman pressed. "Why let everyone think you're an idiot?"

Wally went quiet for a moment or two, his expression surprisingly solemn.

"'S easier that way," he finally said.

Norman frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It's easier when people don't think you're a threat," Wally said. His normally cheerful and goofy expression was gone, replaced with one of calm understanding. "There's no way I'd be safe in the studio if people realized I knew half the stuff I do. If they just think I'm an idiot, there's no reason for them to pay attention to me."

Norman considered this, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"Makes sense," he said. "Sorry for questioning you."

"Eh, it's fine." Wally's smile returned as he gently bumped his shoulder against Norman's. "I get it. It seems weird to want everyone to think you're dumb."

"We all do weird things to stay safe." Norman let out a weary sigh. "That's the nature of the world."

"Hey! Enough sad talk!" Wally bumped Norman's shoulder again. "You wanted to talk secrets, right? Well, boy have I got one for you."

Norman's gaze sharpened with interest. "Oh really?" He asked, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do tell."

Wally grinned back. "Alright, so, you know how Mary's been fighting with Albert over him allegedly seeing Doris? Well, you're never gonna guess who I saw in the conference room last week..."

[alicentsgf]

What do you think of Alys? You know among all those people saying she will be evil I just feel like whatever she is gonna be, I'd love her as much as I love Alicent. It's all about the vibe, Alicent comes from Greek tragedy and Alys from gothic romance and I can't wait to see 2 season

I love Alys. i think I just hope they do her justice and make her more than just The Witch or The Victim you know. I don't really know what that should look like and I don't know exactly what the story is going to need her to be because I'm not sure what direction they're going to go with everyone else, especially Aemond, as in, what way he's going to react to Luke's death/how everyone else is going to react to him being the cause of Lukes death? idk. idk what person he's going to be when he gets to harrenhal basically.

one thing i do know though is its just a pure fact imo that Alys in f&b was one of the most interesting characters in the dance era, hands down. like when I say the f&b characters were one-dimensional cardboard cut-outs I'm almost exclusively talking about the dance era tbh. The story of the dance was exciting, the people not so much so imo. and I feel like grrm fumbled the bag with Alys because when she's introduced she's this mysterious woman who manages to convince this boy prince to spare her and forms a questionable romantic/sexual bond with him that may or may not be rooted in magic. and that's so interesting! but what is actually done with it?? not much really. we don't even know where their kid ended up? and yeah people can say that their relationship was just included to make aemond a hypocrite or something and that regardless its all just so gross anyway (because yeah whatever its obviously fucked up. all these relationships are.) but one thing that is overlooked I feel is that this could very possibly have been about survival for Alys. at least to begin with. The impression we get is that this is how she's lived her life, like she has constantly used her body to make herself useful and needed - if the choice was between horrible violent death and seducing a 19-year-old... i kind of understand seducing the 19-year-old, you know?

i would love to see her be manipulative with aemond, at least to begin with, and then see him slowly wise up to what she's doing and for them to find some kind of accord? this love affair is not going to be 'cute', it's not going to be aspirational, it's literally a love story between an older woman who may or may not be a witch and her boy toy war-criminal, like... common sense says it's not going to be a healthy relationship. However, i do think there's the potential there for a really deep, slightly unexpected understanding of each other. Aemond may be a lot younger, but he holds power over Alys because of his position in society/the way the world of asoiaf operates. he was literally holding her life in his hands when they met. I don't think the power imbalance is as pronounced as it would be in a modern setting, so they do have the potential to sort of level the playing field for each other and become partners in their own special fucked up way. after all, there's some definite moments in f&b where we hear that they have a very real and obvious bond with one another.

i think saying alys is gothic romance vibes is so accurate like overall the story isn't very gothic romance, but in herself with the elements of the grotesque, mystery, and the supernatural surrounding her I feel that's incredibly true. and its perfect because aemond has that element too; he is the marred, brooding, outcast gothic romantic hero. so yeah they should totally capitalise on these archetypes and make their side of the story lean into that.

one thing i do have slight reservations about is the supernatural aspect aka alys' magic. like I love a witch, don't get me wrong, and the aesthetics of alys using magic I just want so so badly. however... i hate when men are right. and i hate when men point at a woman who's managed to manoeuvre her way against all odds into a position of influence and say 'you cheated'/'thats a witch'. like. idk i do think maybe it would be interesting to see alys just be insanely smart and manipulative, using magic to cover up the moves she's making that are very much not magic just to keep people afraid of her so they'll let her be? but also i DO want her to be a witch? its a hard one.

im just so excited to meet her tbh. there's some really great options for what to do with her character so I just have my fingers crossed they do her justice.

[arvinsescape]

Nurse Y/N

A/N: I’ve been working on this for a couple of days and happy to finally be able to post it. Mob Tom fic, i tried to add smut but i don’t think my writings there at the minute, i’ll do it eventually. Bit of a slow burn but not too much. As always i hope you enjoy.

Summary: You’re a nurse and you’ve always been on the right side of the law, what happens when you meet a man that sweet and caring but definitely not on the right side of the law.

Warnings: Language, mentions and hints of smut.

W/C: 4.4K,

You’d lived with your best friend for around a year now. A bad relationship had brought you to his door, he took you in and the rest is history. You were working as a nurse in the local hospital and you had no idea what exactly it was that your best friend did, he didn’t talk much about it, claiming he “just did odd jobs for someone”. You were sceptical to say the least, the amount of times he had come home covered in bruises led you to believe that his activities were probably not legal. But he never brought it home and being non the wiser made things slightly easier for you. It was your day off and you were stuck into a Netflix series when you saw your best friends name light up on your phone screen. You noticed it was 1am and wondered why he wasn’t home yet.

“Hi James. What’s up?”

“Y/N? Where are you?” He asked in a rushed tone. He sounded out of breath. You could hear the slamming of a car door over the speaker.

“I’m at home. Why? James what’s wrong?” You asked him, voice growing more concerned.

“I need your help. If I text you an address can you meet me there?”

“Sure. James are you okay?” You asked as you started to put your shoes on.

“I’m fine! I just need you to meet me.”

“Okay, text me the address.” You sighed as you hung up and grabbed your car keys.

Once you received the address you set off in the direction that your SAT NAV was taking you. As you came nearer to the destination you started to feel more and more uneasy. It was almost too quiet for London. You pulled into what looked like an abandoned warehouse, now you were really uneasy. You fumbled around your bag as you tried to find your phone, with a tight grip you dialled James’ number.

“Y/N? Where are you?”

“I’m outside but what is going on? Where have you brought me?”

“Stay there I’ll be out in a second.” He huffed as he put the phone down.

He wasn’t wrong, it couldn’t have been 30 seconds later that he arrived at your car, pulling the door open. He looked physically fine but the worry on his face still had you on your guard. What on Earth was going on? You glanced at the time in your car 1.10am. What the hell is happening?

“Y/N. I’m sorry for calling so late but I didn’t know who else to call. I can’t go to a hospital and I need one, so I need your help. I need you to do something for me.” He spoke faster than you thought physically possible.

“Slow down. What is it? Are you hurt?” You asked as you scanned him overlooking for wounds that weren’t there. What did he mean he needed a hospital but couldn’t go?

“The guy I work for. He’s been injured, someone managed to get a shot off on him.” He rambled as he pulled you towards the building.

“Shot! What the hell are you talking about? What do you do?” You almost screamed.

“Look. I promise I’ll explain everything Y/N. But right now I need you to help him. I can’t take him to a hospital it would be too risky. I need you to take the bullet out and stitch him up. Please, he’s my boss. He’ll make it worth your while.” He asked you with pleading eyes as he pulled you further into the warehouse.

“James. I’m not a surgeon! I don’t know if I can do that!” You started to panic now.

“You can give stitches though? He’s been shot in the arm, he’s losing blood, but I think the bullet is stemming the bleeding. I don’t think it’s lodged too far in. Please and I promise I’ll explain everything.”

The nurse in you was screaming at you to try and help who ever it was but you were frightened, you weren’t a surgeon. What if it went wrong? He could sue you; you’d lose your career. You weren’t supposed to do this off duty. So many things were running through your mind as James took you into another room that was filled with 4 other men. All dressed rather smart to say they’d clearly been involved in illegal activity. The man who James had informed you was the boss became apparent when you saw him clutching his arm. Blood dripping down it.

“Boss. This is Y/N, she’s a nurse.” James explained as you both stopped in front of him. He was attractive at first glance. Beautiful brown eyes and brown curls that were almost begging to have fingers run through them. You kept quiet, feeling intimidated as he stared you down, expression completely unreadable.

“Can you trust her?” The ‘Boss’ asked James.

“She’s been my best friend for years; you can trust her.” James answered confidently. You just shook your head, finally having the courage to speak up.

“Hang on just a second. What do you mean can you trust her? I’m the one who should be wondering that, your sat there having been shot, apparently need my help and you have the audacity to ask if you can trust me?” You almost screamed at the man in front of you. You don’t know what made you snap, maybe it was the stress of the situation or how tired you suddenly felt. James grasped your arm in a tight grip.

“Y/N. I love you, but this is no time to be head strong. Just please, be respectful, he’s an important man.” He said to you as he released your arm. Before you could say anything, the brown eyed man spoke first.

“No, that’s quite alright James. She’s feisty, nothing wrong with that.” He said as he smirked in your direction. He may have been good looking, but he was irritating the hell out of you. You just looked at him as if to say, “what the fuck?” He just smiled at you. “Now, I would very much appreciate it if you could help me out. I will pay you what ever you want, and I promise not to say a word to anyone about what you have done for me.” He gave you what seemed to be a genuine smile and you sighed. Perhaps doing what he asked was the fastest way to get to bed.

“Look, I’m not a surgeon. I might not be able to do much, but I’ll try. Let me have a look.” You said as you eyed him carefully. James had left to stand near the other 3 men in the room. You took his arm as you assessed the damage. Maybe you could do this. The wound didn’t look all that bad. ���I think I can do this. It just, it will hurt, and I don’t have anything to numb the pain. In fact, I don’t have anything at all to work with.” You suddenly realised.

“Well I came somewhat prepared. Sam? Have you got the first aid kit?” He turned to one of the men. ‘Sam’ nodded and made his way towards you, handing you the first aid kit and making his way back to his original spot. This really was some strange operation.

“Like I said, this might hurt.” You sighed as you got to work.

**

“Okay. All done.” You said as you finished up the stitching. You were surprised at how little he flinched throughout the process. He must have one hell of a pain tolerance. “Take some paracetamol and ibuprofen when you get home. I really would suggest you go to an actual hospital to make sure I removed that bullet properly.” You said as covered the stitching with a bandage.

“Thank you very much. I’m sure I won’t be going to a hospital, not sure how I would explain a bullet wound without the police getting involved and what would I tell them? I’d have to tell them nurse Y/N helped me out in the first place.” He teased.

“Whatever, just please don’t sue me if you end up losing your arm.”

“I promise. Now how much would you like for what you have done. Name your price. It’s yours.”

“I don’t want anything. Just please don’t tell anyone what I did and try and stay out of trouble.” You sighed as you looked into his brown eyes. You really were tired now, thankful that you had a day off tomorrow, well today.

“I already promised that I wouldn’t say anything and as for staying out of trouble I’m afraid I can’t promise you that. But hopefully I won’t need your services like this again. Are you sure you don’t want any money?”

“I’m sure. It wouldn’t feel right to take money when I know I shouldn’t have done that. I really just want to go home and go to bed.”

“Whatever makes you feel better princess.” He said as he flashed you a genuine smile and that nickname made your stomach do things that you’d rather not think about. He wasn’t someone you should get mixed up with. That much you could tell.

“James? Are you coming?” You finally turned to your best friend and he just shook his head, saying that he had things to finish up there and with that you left. You fell into bed and as soon as your head hit the pillow you were asleep.

**

You woke up at around 12pm, having not gotten into bed until 3am and you were still feeling exhausted. You briefly wondered if last night was just a strange dream was just but you knew it wasn’t. You made your way downstairs and made yourself a coffee, yeah you were going to need caffeine to wake up today. You wandered into the living room where you saw James sat on the couch, he looked over at you.

“Y/N. Thank you so much for last night. I’m so fucking sorry that I dragged you into that, but I couldn’t let anything happen to him, he’s a very important man.” James rambled as you took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, sipping your coffee.

“I just want an explanation, James. It’s the least you can do.” You were still slightly pissed at him, but you knew he wouldn’t have risked you and your job if it wasn’t important.

“Okay. Look, I’m involved with the London ‘mob’ if you want to call it that. I’ve made it pretty far up in the ranks and that was my boss, the leader you saved last night. We were reclaiming some old territory when things went a little south and he got shot. I can’t thank you enough for what you did, and I promise I wouldn’t have gotten you involved if I didn’t have to.” He sighed. You’d stayed silent, taking in his words and you just sighed back.

“Listen, I’m still pissed but it’ll pass. I had a gut feeling you were involved in something illegal and I think you should get out if you can but please don’t get me involved like that again and we’ll continue to pretend that this never happened and you don’t do what you do for a living. The less I know the better.” James smiled at you as he hugged you.

“Thank you Y/N. You’re the best. I love you; you know that. I can deal with you being pissed; I deserve that much. I promise I’ll make it up to you, pizza for tea. I’m buying!”

Most people would say that you’d had a rather nonchalant response but honestly. You didn’t want to know more; he was your best friend and maybe you were trying to look the other way to protect your image of him or maybe you were still tired and your brain hadn’t quite caught up yet but you left it at that and he told you he was going to ‘work’ and off he went about his day as you started going about your own.

You’d just been for a shower when you heard a knock at the door. You hadn’t been expecting a visitor and assumed it was your friend who also had today off. You threw on your pyjamas which consisted of shorts and a tank top as you made your way to the door.

“You know Lizzy, you could’ve texted me before you decided to- “Your words were cut short as you opened the door. It wasn’t Lizzy at all, it was the man you’d helped last night, escorted by two other men that you didn’t recognise.

“If I had your number, I might’ve done sweetheart.” He said as he took in your attire. You suddenly felt self-conscious under his stare and wished you’d have grabbed your dressing gown.

“What are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” you asked him.

“My apologies but James said you lived together, and I know where all my staff live.”

“Okay, so what do you want?”

“I came to thank you properly for last night. You don’t want paying and I can’t take what you did for free.” He said as he watched you cautiously eye the two men that he’d brought with him. “Don’t worry about them, apparently I’m not aloud to go anywhere alone until my arm is healed. Mum’s orders and you know you don’t argue with your mother.” He said, trying to ease you, you still looked somewhat tense. “Can I come in? I’ll make them stay outside.” He asked and there was that genuine smile again. It made your stomach flip and you just nodded as you moved aside and let him in. Shutting the door rapidly as he crossed the thresh hold.

You hadn’t noticed his hands were full until he placed down a large box on your kitchen counter. “Do I want to know what’s in there?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Well unless you’re allergic to anything in there, I wouldn’t be too concerned.” He teased. You made your way over and opened the box, it was full of god knows how many boxes of all different types of chocolate. “I did ask James and he said you loved chocolate so I thought I could repay you by starting there.”

“Well thank you but honestly I don’t want anything else. It’s not like you were on deaths door.” You joked back. Something about him set you at ease when it probably shouldn’t have.

“Well who knows? I might’ve lost my arm.” He laughed. You couldn’t help but laugh with him, it was almost contagious. “Tom by the way.”

“Wow. James didn’t call you Tom; I must be honoured.” You laughed.

“Well unlike James, you don’t work for me princess.”

“No, I suppose I don’t.”

“Cute pj’s by the way.” He teased as he eyed you again. You instantly wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling conscious under his stare, but not in a bad way, in a way that made your stomach flutter and heat rush to your cheeks.

“Um, thanks. Look, not to be rude but what do you want?” You asked as you locked eyes with him. God he was beautiful.

“I’d like to take you out to lunch, as a thank you. Don’t read too much into it.”

“Will you take no for an answer?”

“Not really darling.”

“Fine. Give me 10 minutes.” You laughed as you made your way upstairs to get changed.

**

He took you to a nice restaurant at the other side of town, it seemed expensive, but he didn’t seem to mind, it seemed like he knew everyone that worked there. He probably owned it; you came to realise. It was actually a lovely afternoon spent chatting and getting to know him. There were numerous times when you found yourself wondering how he ended up being part of a mob. He was sweet but every time you remembered what he did for a living you were reminded that you couldn’t let yourself go there.

**

“And where have you been?” James teased as you came through the door.

“Out.” You answered vaguely.

“With a certain brown eyed, brown haired mobster?”

“How did you know?” You asked, shocked.

“Well I know he was interested in how I knew you and then we didn’t see him again all day.”

“Right, well, he just wanted to say thank you.” You said as you joined him on the couch.

“Bullshit Y/N. I think he has a soft spot for you.” He continued to tease you. “I mean come on. He’s gorgeous.”

“It was just a thank you lunch!” You defended yourself. “Besides it wouldn’t be a good idea, you know with what he does for a living, if you want to call it that.”

“Yeah, but he could offer you protection and all the money you’d ever need. He might do illegal stuff but he’s not a complete monster Y/N.”

“James, please don’t go there.” You groaned as you took a slice of pizza from the box he’d ordered in.

“Okay, okay. I know that look though. That one you had when you came through that door. I just have one question for you.” He said as he laughed.

“What’s that?” You asked, mouth full of pizza.

“When are you seeing him again?”

You picked up the nearest pillow and hit him with it, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ as he laughed at you. You finished your night watching a movie before heading to bed, dreams of a curly haired, brown eyed boy flooding your dreams.

**

Two weeks passed before you saw Tom again. James had mentioned he wasn’t going to be in for the night, and you’d decided to read a book as there was a knock at the door. You made your way over and opened the door, there he was, alone this time.

“Déjà vu. I swear you had exactly the same thing on the last time you opened this door for me.” He laughed as he gestured towards your attire.

“I did. What are you doing here Tom?”

“I actually just came to see you.” He said as he made his way past you so you could close the door.

“And why’s that?”

“Look, I can’t stop thinking about Y/N. God knows I’ve tried but I can’t, and I know we hardly know each other but I’d like to change that.” He answered, he’d stepped slightly closer to you.

“Tom.” You sighed. “We shouldn’t. This isn’t a good idea, you know that right?”

“Trust me, I’ve been through this a thousand times since we last saw each other but I can’t help it. I think I like you, like a lot.” He said as he reached towards you, catching a strand of your hair as he played with the end of it. Your heart rate was starting to pick up at the closeness.

“Tom I-“

“I could give you everything and anything you want princess. I’d look after you and that’s a promise, I know my line of work is messy and comes with risks but I’m willing to risk everything for a chance with you.” He’d tucked the strand of hair behind your ear and placed his hand on your cheek, moving his face closer to yours, you could feel his breath on your lips.

“We shouldn’t” you whispered, although you knew you didn’t mean it. He just shook his head in agreement with you. Lips almost touching.

“If you don’t want to just tell me to stop.” He whispered against your lips. Your body moved before your brain could catch up and you connected your lips. It was like fireworks had exploded in your stomach. Your lips moved against each other as your fingers made their way into his curls, god they were soft.

He backed you up until your back hit the cool wall behind you, moving his hands to grip your hips. His tongue slid over your bottom lip asking for access which you gladly gave. Your tongues danced together like they were old dance partners. Knowing exactly how to move together and it made you moan slightly. You pulled back for a bit of air before his lips were back on yours. You’d never been kissed like this before. Almost as if he was trying to tell you everything through the kiss.

He tapped your thigh and you jumped, his strong arms instantly catching you as he pinned you further against the wall. Your mind was racing, this was possibly the hottest, most intense kiss you had ever engaged with. “Do you want to stop?” He mumbled against your lips. You only shook your head in response reconnecting your lips as he carried you through the flat, you directed him towards your bed room and the night was spent with you receiving the most amount of attention and pleasure you’d ever experienced with another human being.

**

You woke up with a warm arm wrapped around your waist, your mind flooded with the events of the night before. You smiled to yourself as you carefully removed his arm and made your way into the bathroom. You examined yourself in the mirror after having brushed your teeth and gasped at the large hickey that had been left on the sweet spot of your neck. You bit your lip and smiled. You threw on Tom’s shirt that he’d worn last night and some underwear, making your way into the kitchen. You boiled the kettle as you got two mugs out, lost in your thoughts you didn’t hear a second person enter the kitchen.

“Well someone looks happy.” James laughed as you lightly screamed and turned around to face him.

“James, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” You gasped, hand on heart as you waited for it to beat at a regular pace again.

“I recognise that shirt.”

“How can you recognise a white button up shirt?” You asked in disbelief.

He just laughed at pointed at the sleeve, you looked down and on the cuff of the shirt was ‘T.H’ embroidered in gold. Heat instantly rose to your cheeks.

“It’s none of your business!”

He threw his hands up in defence. “You’re right, it’s not. You look happy though, I’m happy for you.”

“I don’t- we haven’t spoken about it.” You sighed. Just as you spoke Tom walked into the kitchen, he smiled at you.

“I wondered where that had gotten to.” He laughed gesturing towards the shirt as he said morning to James. James shook his head and laughed.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” He grabbed his keys and wallet and walked out of the flat. Leaving you and Tom stood in the kitchen. He was shirtless and he looked good, you bit your lip as you looked at him.

“Morning princess.” He smiled as he wrapped you in a tight, warm embrace.

“We should talk about last night.” You mumbled against his chest. He sighed.

“Look, I meant what I said. All of it.” He kissed the top of your head. You pulled out of his embrace as you looked at him.

“I just- I know it might seem ridiculous because of last night but I want to take it slow. We should get to know each other. We don’t know enough about each other yet and last night, I don’t regret it but maybe we should take it back to step one.”

“Whatever you want princess. I promise I’ll look after you. I know my line of work bothers you and I hope that you can accept that it’s part of what I do but I understand if getting to know me more means that that is too much for you.” He said as he looked into your eyes. He was being vulnerable, honest and you knew you had to give him the chance. You’d regret it if you didn’t.

**

You went on dates and it would be three months before you found yourself in bed with him again. You fell hard and you fell fast for him. You ended up leaving your job in favour of becoming the woman who oversaw all of Tom’s books. He kept you safe and he loved you and made you feel more loved than you thought possible. Anything you wanted, you got. Anything you needed, you had. Anything you asked of him, done.

You never imagined that you’d end up dating a man on the wrong side of the law and being okay with it, being complicit in it but here you were. You married about three years in and nothing changed, he still made you feel the same way he had years prior. You had three beautiful children with him, and he was best, most loving father a child could hope for. You had two boys which he would do anything and everything for and your little girl well he doted on her completely, she was his little angel, couldn’t do a thing wrong in his eyes.

“You know I never thought I’d say this” he spoke one night as you were cuddled up in bed “but I’m actually thankful I got shot that night.”

“Most people wouldn’t be thankful for that Tom.” You teased him.

“No probably not. But I never would have met you had it not happened.” He said sincerely as he ran his fingers up and down your arm.

“No, you wouldn’t have. I’m always thankful I gave you the chance even if at the time I was wary.” You laughed as you kissed his chest.

“Admit it. I had you the second I kissed you and then gave you one of the best railings you’d ever had.” He teased which earned him a playful smack on the chest.

“Yeah that always helps.” You laughed as you rolled your eyes at him. You couldn’t be more in love with this man if you tried. 

[l4verq]

remnants (1)

ransom drysdale x reader

in which you have to protect ransom drysdale because he has the same face as steve rogers, your ex who’s gone back to peggy

warnings : fights, guns, hostage situation, tiny bit of violence

if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk in the comments💗

ʀᴇᴍɴᴀɴᴛꜱ

*not my gif*

-

ransom’s seen pretty much everything.

travelled around the world, eaten the finest delicacies, snapped away for five years into non-existence all because of a purple, ball-sack face alien.

or so he thought.

because sitting here cuffed to a chair infront of you barely conscious, he begs to differ.

how did the night get so fucked so fast?

“hey.” he extends his leg, trying to nudge yours desperately.

you were a sight to behold with your hair undone, dark locks tousled around your delicate neck.

but ransom can’t afford to marvel at you, in fact the first thing he needs to do is get the fuck away from you.

because the way you’d jammed that glass cup up that bartender’s throat without a second thought, you were no ordinary woman.

“psst, hey.” He tries again, eyes skimming over the room.

they probably were holding them both for ransom.

hell would freeze over before he gave any of his money to those fuckers who chained him up like a dog.

you stir around slightly as you slowly open your heavy eyes. a groan slips out when you try to adjust yourself, only tightening the hold on your hands.

“good, you’re up.”

you lift your head to see a bloodied ransom across you.

slumping back into your seat, your body cries out in pain at the slightest movements.

as soon as you’d tasted the martini, you knew it was an ambush, thankfully spitting most of it out.

but it was too late, the drug almost instantaneously taking action, making you groggy.

the last thing you vaguely remember is dragging ransom out only to be whacked out cold, seeing stars.

“what’s going on? hey, are you going back to sleep?”he asks, straining his leg out to nudge yours again.

“you just don’t shut up, do you?” you croak out, barely above a whisper.

“i’m being held hostage in this room,” his nose scrunches up, “so, I’m sorry if I’m just a little curious as to what the fuck is going on.”

he looks almost pitiful, dried blood on his forehead and desperation in his eyes.

reminds you of steve after missions when he would limp around, all bruised up.

your eyes flicker over to the one camera pointed right at you, but the way it was angled you knew your hands weren’t in view.

“do you know about the avengers?” you work on dislocating your wrist to free your hands chained behind you.

not exactly your favourite thing but it worked everytime.

he rolls his eyes and quirks an eyebrow.

“you think I don’t know the avengers? the whole ‘saviours of the world but we choose to remain anonymous’ crap?”

“well, you’re looking at one right now.” you give an umamused smile, slightly flinching at the wrench that causes a tear in your ligaments.

he probably wouldn’t have believed you if he hadn’t witness you take down six people with such ease just a few hours? ago.

“anyways long story short, you look just like captain america and for some reason hydra just can’t seem to get over that face of yours.”

he lets out a genuine laugh which only seems to intensify the throbbing pain in his head.

you were a whole other kind of crazy.

“steve rogers? no one’s even seen his face under that dumb cowl of his.” he snorts, noticing the slight shift in your face at the mention of steve.

“andy barber. jake jensen. colin shea. ever heard of them?”

another tear.

he shakes his head, his irritation only growing by the very second.

“a few months ago, each one of them started disappearing one after the other. the only thing they had in common was their faces. they looked exactly like you, like him.”

you clench your jaw as you position your wrist for the final twist.

the last one always hurt like a bitch.

“you’re crazy.” he huffs, in disbelief.

he knew he shouldn’t have gone to that stupid event, not let his mother get in his head like always.

he could be at home right now, in his lavish three bedroom villa overlooking the sylvan surroundings.

but here he was, tied up in a filthy room with an avenger.

you might have to agree with him on the crazy part because you’re regretting the whole dislocating thing when the last twist pulls through, pain nearly blinding you.

he can only watch in horror as he realises what you’re doing.

“no, like you’re actually insane.” he breathes out in disbelief as your hands slip out of the chain.

the door swings open, guns pointed right at you.

a particular face in the middle catches your eye as you recognise him.

“you know you’re not getting out of here that easy, right?” zemo chuckles, “broke those pretty bones for nothing.”

“you get blipped for five years and this is the first thing you do? somebody needs to get a life.” you slowly get up, hands raised (you think?)

you couldn’t really feel them anymore.

“sit back down.” he orders, gun pointed right at your head.

he yells at you to sit down again but the gun’s pointed at ransom now.

“holy fuck, dude, don’t point that shit at me. this is how 99% of the people in movies die.” ransom pleads, his eyes closed.

“he’s not steve, you know that. so, why are you doing this? I mean I know why I’m doing this.” you hesitantly sit back down, your ears pleased for once to hear the familiar whirring.

just a few more seconds. that’s all you needed.

he cocks his head, “doing what?”

“buying time.”

ransom’s seen enough action movies to know the probability of him accidentally being shot by any of the rain of bullets whizzing past you two right now is high.

too high for his liking.

he thinks he saw a red flying thing knock out zemo? before you pushed him down so hard the chair broke.

“jesus christ, are you trying to kill me?” He yells, his back throbbing in pain.

and all of a sudden, it’s quiet,a persistent ringing taking over his ears.

he opens his eyes to see you hovering over his face.

it’s weird, your lips seem to be moving but he can’t hear you.

and it’s all black.

“i just want you to know that what you did back there, that was stupid.” sam glares at you, in the rearview mirror.

“and dumb.” bucky chimes in.

you roll your eyes.

it was going to be a long ride to the safehouse.

the car bumps and ransom bounces around, his head hitting the top.

“jesus, hold him or something.” bucky turns around, looking at ransom’s unconscious body sprawled on the seat.

you scoot over closer to ransom, your hand guiding his head to your lap.

bucky turns back around, a grin creeping up to his face which you just want to punch off.

you look down at the bloody mess on Ransom’s forehead, fingers slightly grazing over it.

it was done with a blunt object, most likely the back of a gun.

you can’t stop staring at his face, the same lump forming in your throat again.

so you force yourself to look away, focus on the trees zooming past until sam stops the car infront of a small house, “we’re here.”

bucky hands you a bag of essentials, waving at you to go in, “we got him.”

the house is actually better than most safe houses you’re used to.

it has electricity and hot water and that’s already made it a top contender.

you head straight for the shower, stripping down to nothing while turning on the water.

you hiss in pain at the contact of water on your aching skin.

the water’s scorching hot but it’s the only way you feel clean.

you scrub off the grime and dirt like always, desperately washing away the dried blood under your fingernails.

a trail of reddish brown water as you wash your hair, nails scratching every surface of your scalp.

quickly changing into a set of clean clothes, you pull out a box of needles.

you’re sloppy with your stitches, maybe cause you’d gotten used to him doing it for you.

throwing your wet hair into a towel, you debate whether to clean his wound up or not.

but your hand is already reaching for the bag of first aid sprawled all over the sink.

“it’s just a nice thing to do.” you mumble, making your way to the living room.

sam’s passed out on the couch adjacent to ransom and you’re pretty sure bucky went out to get some food.

they’ve changed his clothes for him but the ugly bruise on his forehead only seems to be swelling up.

you sit down on the floor, rummaging through the box, pulling out cotton and antiseptic.

“am I dead?” he croaks out, slightly shifting.

you chuckle, looking back at him.

a few dabs of the brown liquid on the cotton.

“this is gonna sting.” You warn him before gently wiping the angry bruise.

he flinches, groaning in pain.

“where am I?”

“safe.”

“yea, that’s really comforting.” he looks up at you in annoyance.

you exchange to a new waft of cotton, still cleaning up the dried up blood.

it’s strange, how weird yet nice your gentle touches feel.

the way your lips slightly part and eyebrows knit together as you concentrate.

ransom never really had someone take care of him like this.

“wher’s Steve?” he asks the lingering question on his mind.

there’d been many conspiracy theories online, each one crazier than the other.

he again notices the slight clench of the jaw, the shift in your position at the mention of his name.

“gone.” you reply stoically, placing the gauze over the swelling wound.

a shit reply but he can’t bring himself to pry further.

you look down at his face, the familiarity of this catching you offguard.

after every mission, he’d force you to sit down and tend to your every wound, every scratch.

can’t have my girl walking around, all bruised up like that.

and you’d force him to sit down and do the same.

it was always so personal, standing between his legs, his hands around your waist while yours worked around.

“hey, you okay?” ransom lifts his head, regretting it instantly as pain shoots up his entire body.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill any second.

“yeah, I’m good. Get some rest.”

you fumble around, hurriedly picking up the first aid kit, your shaky hands doing little to help you.

you were clearly distraught and ransom had a sneaking suspicion why.

-

a/n : i dont even know if u can physically dislocate your wrist yourself lol, im just making shit up as i go lmao

[penguintransporter]

Every You, Every Me (a Leon Goretzka story) chapter II

I know it’s been a while, but I re-wrote this part maybe seven, eight times, only to settle on something completely different. Hope you like it, and I apologise if it is a bit too long (you know me). Tell me what you think about it, every heart, message, and reblog means much more than you can imagine. It needs some editing, but I will get around to do it sometime later. 

Part I

Sofie rested her hands on her waist, overlooking the mountain of clothes piled on her bed — different shapes, colours, patterns and prints, interlacing and weaving in an incomprehensible bundle on top of her comforter. She didn’t know where to start, and for a moment, she wished she could wipe it away with a snap of her fingers, and be over with it.

She was tired after having a sleepless night, and she was hungry, but she had been putting it off for too long, and she knew it had to be done. 

Shaking her head a bit, Sofie picked up a pair of black, over-the-knee boots from the top of the pile — the soft leather feeling smooth against the skin of her fingertips. She remembered the day when she bought them, matching them with a strappy top and a mid-calf, satin skirt — cashing out the last cents of her scholarship money in the outfit, hoping to catch his eye.  

The confidence she felt when she made her way through the crowd in the outfit she couldn’t afford and with her makeup and hair immaculately done, trying to fit in with the people he invited to his birthday party — it all felt ridiculous and a bit childish in retrospective. The glances they shared across the room, the smile on his face when he opened the present she got him, the random touch of his fingertips against her bare back when he guided her to the bar, and the clearest of them all, the bitter taste in her mouth when he left with Yvonne — the girl he ended up dating for the next six months. 

As she watched his figure walk out with his strong arm around the pretty blonde in luxurious dress, Sofie knew that the best thing would be to just give up, as any sane person in her place would, but she just couldn’t bring herself to listen to her brain. Instead, she booked a hairdresser the next morning, dyeing her hair in lighter colour and waited for him to notice it, feeding on the crumbs of his attention and sticking to it like a moth to the flame. 

Yet, she was blind, diving deep into the pit of unrequited love, shedding the layers of her real self along the way, not thinking about consequences or the future.

Sofie breathed out a sigh before lifting up a dress from her bed — short and covered in sequins, and she couldn’t help but narrow her eyes at the mere thought of owning it, let alone wearing it. There was nothing wrong with the dress itself, but the cut, length and style of it, it was all, but something she felt comfortable wearing. Folding it gingerly, she glanced back at the clothes in front of her — realisation of how much she had changed herself for Leon hitting her like a train. 

Sofie knew better than that.

Sofie was about to throw the dress behind her, in the same pile with her overpriced boots when her phone buzzed loudly on her dresser, startling her. Dropping it back on the pile, Sofie made her way towards the device that was hidden among one too many notebooks and course books resting on the IKEA piece before picking it up and smiling at the name written across the screen. 

“You actually did it!” Elle screamed from the other side of the line causing the other girl to twist her lips and move her phone away from her ear for a second. If there was one distinctive separating the two of them, it was the different levels of their loudness at any given moment. “Turn the fucking camera on, and let me see it!” her best friend demanded — her voice still too loud for Sofie’s or anyone's comfort. 

“Language,” Sofie laughed, fumbling with her phone, “you are not on the pitch, Ellenore.” Sofie finally turned on the front camera, pulling a face at Elle as her friend squealed with happiness upon seeing her hair, or rather lack of it. “I guess you like it then,” Sofie muttered, patting the top of her head, feeling slightly embarrassed with the attention she was getting. 

“I love it,” Elle breathed out. “I was worried at first when you texted, but you have one sexy head, Sofie. How does it feel? Naked?”

“Light and cold,” Sofie responded with a shake of her head, “almost had a heart attack when I woke up yesterday morning and saw myself in the mirror.”

Elle laughed softly, adjusting her large bag across her shoulders as she walked along the small street that led to her apartment block - the red jacket with the Bayern Munich logo zipped all the way to her chin. 

“What’s the mess about?” Elle changed the topic, making Sofie turn her head away to look at the clothes and shoes strewn across her bed. 

“I’ve been—” Sofie paused to make herself some space before sitting down at the foot of her bed, “decluttering. Or something like that.”

Elle’s face dropped for a second, but she quickly masked it with a supporting grin that Sofie more than appreciated. If anyone knew about the heartbreak and the identity crisis that Sofie was going through, it was Elle. 

“Are you getting rid of everything?” Elle asked. “Will you sell it or give away?”

“I don’t know what to do with it yet, but I know that it has to go,” Sofie admitted. She felt the tears glaze her vision, but she quickly gave Elle a small smile, trying to stop herself from being too pathetic. “I’ve made such a mess out of my life, Elle,” she paused, giving herself a moment to bite back her tears, “I could have travelled half of the world with the money I spent on frills and sequins, and I hate frills and sequins.”

“I think you are being too hard on yourself, Sofie,” Elle said as Sofie stretched her legs in front of her, “and travelling half of the world is more expensive than you think. Unless you are someone who is comfortable wearing the same harem pants and baja hoodie for more than two and showering once a week,” she added with an innocent smile, and Sofie couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“I am just disappointed that I let myself go this far,” Sofie admitted, focusing on the slippers on her feet - soft material worn out and discoloured. “Plenty fish in the sea, and I was pulling on the biggest catch. How silly of me.”

Elle was quiet as Sofie got up, making her way out of the room and towards the kitchen, closing the doors behind her. One thing was keeping herself busy with it, and completely different to stare at it and do nothing.

“Did you talk to him? Or Serge? They are back from Trentino, or at least that’s what I’ve heard from the girls at the training.” Elle stopped to unlock her apartment doors. 

Despite seeing that Elle was concentrating on twisting the locks, Sofie nodded, pouring some of the juice from the container into her glass. “I had a missed call from Leon on Tuesday,” she took a small sip of her drink, relishing the coolness trickling down her throat, “and I called back. I know I shouldn’t have,” Sofie whispered, rubbing at her eye with her free hand, placing her glass at the edge of the sink, “but he didn’t mention anything about coming back early. Then again, I didn’t ask either, maybe I should have. And why am I being so pathetic, it's not like we had something going on? It was me running after him...”

“Sofie,” Elle sighed quietly — her voice careful, “I know it’s not easy to deal with the heartbreak, and you shouldn’t keep it inside. I am here, you know that?”

Sofie nodded, trying to ignore the feeling of emptiness in her stomach despite the juice. “Yeah,” she answered slowly, “but, I hav—” Sofie stopped, running her hand across the top of her head, finding comfort in the simple action of touching it. “How was your training session?” she asked, changing the subject clumsily as the doorbell rang out throughout her apartment. Sofie’s stomach grumbled at the mere thought of eating lunch soon.

“Did you order food?” Elle smirked, “sushi? Noodles?”

“Indian actually,” Sofie replied, walking towards the doors through the small hallway before unlocking the massive doors, only to stop in her tracks — the smile she had prepared for the delivery person faltering as quickly as it appeared.

**

“You know, Serge,” Sofie grinned as she twirled the last remaining of her already cold tea in her cup, “staring at me won’t make it grow back any faster,” she spoke, downing the leftovers of her drink while grinning at her friend over the lip of her mug. He only laughed in response, and Sofie rolled her eyes playfully before glancing briefly at Leon.

Ever since Sofie welcomed them in her apartment, Leon had been acting strange, quietly sitting at the edge of her couch — leg bouncing as he glanced at his phone every few seconds. He wasn’t as talkative as Serge most of the time, but having him say only few words was not a common thing. Sofie felt that there was something on his mind, and that he was going through something, but she didn't know how to approach him without being too noisy.

“I wasn’t staring at all,” Serge replied, still grinning, “and if I did, it’s because it looks really good.”

“Do girls drop their panties for you all the time, Gnabry?” Sofie asked, sarcastically. “Your charm is amazing.”

“I am being honest here,” Serge clarified, trying to contain his laughter, “it does look good. Right?” he admitted, looking towards Leon, but his friend ignored him — eyes still trained on the shiny device. Serge smiled in disbelief, glancing at Sofie with a goofy face before leaning closer to his friend and teammate, nudging him with his knee, “Leon? I am talking to you. Are you even here?”

“Hmm? What?” Leon suddenly asked, looking up from his phone, startled at the sound and motion coming from his left. “Did you say something?”

“Sofie’s new haircut. It looks good, no?” Serge repeated, much slower, stretching out every syllable for the confused German. 

“Yeah,” Leon started, giving Sofie a long stare which made her heartbeat accelerate, “yeah, it does,” he repeated somewhat quieter, glancing at his phone again for a millisecond. “Can I make some fresh coffee, Sofie? I feel like some coffee?” he asked suddenly— eyes never leaving hers, and for some reason Sofie felt scrutinized under his gaze.  

Sofie was a bit confused with the urgency in his voice, but nodded quickly, watching him get up and straighten his dark jeans in a hurry and putting his phone in the back pocket. He gave her a small smile in response before moving around the coffee table and walking out of the room, not looking back when Serge commented something that Sofie didn’t catch. There was a strange feeling inside of her stomach as she watched him walk out, before she leaned forward in her seat, giving Serge a quizzical look on which he only shrugged with his shoulders. 

“I’ll go and check,” she whispered, getting up as well, and quickly following Leon into the kitchen. 

He was resting his large hands against the counter, watching Sofie’s cheap coffee machine drip the liquid in the large container. In the small space of her kitchen, crammed with the table, uncomfortable chairs, and way too many plants and random knick-knacks, Leon’s physique was overwhelming. Sofie stood in the doorway, quietly observing him, and nervously bringing her hands together, unwilling to speak out and ruin his peace. 

“You’ve been really quiet,” she finally said, moving away from the doorway and stepping inside the room and beside him. She wasn’t the shortest girl out there, but he was still towering over her, especially now that she was only wearing her slippers. 

Leon briefly glanced at her — his eyes moving from her eyes to her hair, and down to her lips for a split of a second before looking back at the coffee machine again, making her heart soar. Up close, she could see the fine smile lines around his eyes and lips. He was beautiful.

“I didn’t sleep well,” he answered quietly, rubbing at the stubble along his chin, “didn’t help that Serge chatted my ear off on our flight back to Munich either. He sat with Hummels, but he shooed him over to my seat,” he added, giving her a small, one-sided grin.

Sofie smiled as well, turning around and leaning against the sink — the aluminium chilling her back through her worn-out tee. “He’s got enough energy for the entire squad, no?” 

“Indeed he does.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of them, and the only sound was the coffee machine loudly filtering the bitter liquid in the scratched pot. Sofie took a deep breath as she stared in front of herself, focusing on the rotting banana in her fruit basket on the dining table, and before she could stop herself, the words that she was supposed to suppress and keep inside, left her mouth. 

“If you want, you can stay and take a nap on the sofa as usual,” she suggested, and almost instantly regretted it. She had created a list of unwritten rules that were supposed to help her get over Leon, and offering him couch to nap on was not one of them.

“Thanks, but I think I will head out whenever Serge makes a move,” Leon quickly answered, and Sofie felt a pinch at her heart. “You seem busy too.”

“As you wish,” she nodded, moving away from the sink as she watched him pour himself a large cup of coffee, dropping a cube of brown sugar in it before taking a small sip. “You sure you’re okay, Leon?” she asked again. 

“Yeah, all is fine, don’t worry,” he smiled, giving her another long stare, and under his gaze she yet felt naked and exposed. “Shall we go out for dinner tomorrow evening? Would be nice to catch up. It’s been a while,” Leon asked as she was about to walk out of her kitchen and back to where Serge was sitting, but stopped in her tracks upon hearing Leon’s voice behind her.

Sofie took a hesitant breath — her heart starting to beat faster in her chest, but she still managed to smile when she turned around, giving him a small nod. “Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

Wrong answer, Sofie.

Wrong answer. 

tags: 

@footballerimaginess, @littlebitofbluelittlebitofcoffee, @jordanspetkovics, @disneydaddyevans​

If there is someone I forgot to tag, please let me know. 

[silverlightqueen]

Her 🦋

‘I could go up out to outer space with her, all I need is one more day with her.’

Phases - Hwang Hyunjin X Chase Atlantic

Rating: M (heavy angst and suggestive content)

Warnings: discussion of suicidal thoughts and severe depression, childhood trauma (absent father, daddy issues), discussion of sex, discussion and use of drugs, substance abuse/addiction and alcoholism, extremely toxic relationship, emotional manipulation and verbal abuse, fwb, sexting and sending nudes

Word Count: 4.6k+

a/n: and here is the second part of phases, my hhjxchaseatlantic series! please proceed with caution bc this fic is very heavy and touches on some very sensitive and serious topics. I really hope you guys enjoy this, lmk what you think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist! the biggest thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess for proofreading this and bigging it up so much lmao I love you sis! x

taglist 🦋: @diue​ @shesfuckedinthehead​ @danyxthirstae01​ @linours​ @titleisyettobemade​ @jikooksgirl19​ @silverlightprincess​

A loud ping from Hyunjin’s phone resonates in the hazy room, the other boys exchanging knowing glances, and he ignores the way his hands itch to reach into his pocket and see if it’s her. ‘Aren’t you gonna check that?’ Changbin asks, fingers fumbling as he tries to roll yet another joint. Hyunjin’s surprised the other boy can even see straight, let alone roll a joint, but he manages it. It’s not his best work, but it’ll do.

They’re sat in the private bar on the top floor of Changbin’s dad’s hotel on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by windows that overlook the skyline. None of them have particularly well-paying jobs – they have more than enough to live, but they splash it all on drugs and drink and fast cars and pretty girls who want Fendi bags, but thanks to Changbin’s dad, lavish nights filled with the oldest alcohol and the best weed are a regular. Changbin’s dad helps fund this lifestyle and they can’t be grateful enough towards him for it.

‘It won’t be urgent,’ Hyunjin says offhandedly, but he feels his skin lighting up with energy. It’s like nothing else is allowed to exist in his mind or body when he thinks of her – she pushes away everything else, even the marijuana mist that hangs in a heavy cloud over his mind. He’s already beginning to sober up, his senses alert and tuned into her. She’s not even here, and she’s all he can feel.

‘What if it’s your girl?’ Chan teases, dimples denting his cheeks as he hands Changbin the lighter. ‘She’s not my girl,’ Hyunjin replies mildly, the boys all looking amused. ‘Then why’d you go running whenever she texts you?’ Minho asks, gentle laughter running around the room, and Hyunjin pushes down the shame, rolling his eyes and curling his lips at the corners, trying to seem nonchalant.

‘He doesn’t go running. He leaves her waiting like a dick,’ Jeongin says, Hyunjin flipping him off half-heartedly. ‘As he should. She ain’t shit,’ Jisung says with a grin. ‘You say that, but you’d go running if it was you she was texting,’ Seungmin grins at Jisung, the latter nodding instantly. ‘Of course I would. I’m not a fucking idiot. I just feel sorry for him. They’ve been fucking around for years and she still hasn’t caught feelings like all other girls do. If there aren’t any feelings involved, it gets boring,’ Jisung says, not realising how his words feel like weapons to Hyunjin.

‘Are you fucking crazy? It’s way better without feelings. It gets messy with feelings,’ Minho says as Chan passes him the joint, fresh smoke already beginning to blur the room, and Hyunjin nods. ‘Exactly. The only reason we’ve been fucking around for so long is because there aren’t any feelings. That’s why we work so well,’ Hyunjin lies, his phone pinging again.

‘Well, I admire you. I’d have caught feelings for her by now,’ Felix says candidly, the other boys bursting into laughter. ‘Don’t laugh! You lot would’ve caught feelings for her too!’ he says defensively, raising his voice over the laughter. ‘Yeah, I definitely would have. I think I’d have wifed her by now,’ Changbin grins, and Hyunjin feels the jealously bubbling up inside him. He hates it when they talk about her. She might not be his, but she’s more his than she is theirs. They have no right to talk about her like that.

‘Yeah, but how do you wife a girl that doesn’t wanna be wifed?’ Chan asks, all of the boys letting out noises of agreement. ‘True. She’s actually living the life. Always decked out in designer, dick from Mr Handsome, free drugs from his friends, boujee apartment in the city, sexy group of friends and an easy ass ‘working from home’ job,’ Jisung says, sounding jealous, and all the boys start laughing again. ‘She really is. I’d swap lives with her, no hesitation,’ Seungmin says, more laughing filling the room.

‘Check your phone then, Mr Handsome,’ Felix nudges Hyunjin, and the boy lets out a little sigh, taking his time as he gets his phone out of his pocket. Her name is on the screen, no emojis and pet names or anything. Just her name. She’s sent him two texts, and he tries to hide his eagerness as he unlocks his phone to see them.

come see me when you’re done with the boys

give them my love and bring me some molly pls xo

‘Wow. Not her trying to emotionally manipulate the guys into giving her molly,’ Felix laughs quietly, looking at Hyunjin’s screen, and Hyunjin can’t help but laugh too. She’s one of a kind. ‘She sends her love to you guys,’ Hyunjin says, knowing he won’t even have to ask for the molly. They’ll offer it, like they always do. She’s got them all wrapped around her finger.

‘She’s cute. We should link soon,’ Chan says, handing the joint to Jisung and punching him gently when he nearly drops it. ‘Yeah, the same thing happens every time we link. We get a booth in a club, last for about ten minutes before they kick us out for doing lines, and then those two disappear to fuck and abandon the rest of us,’ Minho says drily, motioning to Hyunjin, who’s busy trying to formulate a laidback reply.

‘Tell her… only if she’s good,’ Felix says under his breath, knowing Hyunjin’s situation better than anybody else (Hyunjin’s never told him, but Felix is wise beyond his years, and very observant), and Hyunjin types up the response. Only a few seconds later do the three little dots appear, and Hyunjin imagines her in his head, lying on her bed and typing with that cute little smile on her face.

I’m always good

I love being good

for you

Hyunjin feels his blood heat up more and more with each text she sends, Felix chuckling amusedly as Hyunjin’s fingers ghost over the keyboard. He never knows what to say, never knows how to be cool and collected around her. ‘You’re on your own, bro. She’s too good at this,’ Felix murmurs, and Hyunjin nods in agreement, desperately wracking his brains for a response, ignoring the current conversation the boys are having.

Before he even begins typing, another text from her comes through, and it’s a picture. His heart speeds up as he waits for it to load, itching to see what she’s sent. He has a folder on his phone dedicated to all the pictures she’s ever sent, and he visits that folder more often than he’d ever admit. When the picture finally loads, he feels his heart stop for a second, Felix so startled that he begins choking, and Hyunjin hits him on the back, eyes still locked onto his phone.

She’s in her bedroom, the lights all off, and she’s stood in front of her mirror, her body illuminated by the flash from her phone and the city lights streaming in from her window. She’s dressed in her completely sheer Dior robe. And nothing else.

‘Fucking hell,’ Felix says when he finally gets his breath back. The boys are all distracted from their conversation, looking over at Hyunjin and Felix with curiosity. ‘What’s going on?’ Jeongin asks, and Felix and Hyunjin are both silent for a moment. ‘She sent me a picture.’ ‘Let us see!’ Changbin says instantly, all of them looking at him with disgust. ‘No, you fucking creep.’ ‘You showed Felix!’ ‘I didn’t show him.’ ‘Yeah, I looked at the screen just as the picture loaded,’ Felix says, the boys all raising their eyebrows at him. ‘What a coincidence,’ Jisung says drily, Felix beginning to defend himself.

Hyunjin quickly becomes distracted with the picture again, unable to believe how lucky he is that a vision of beauty sends him pictures like this. He still isn’t used to the feeling of having someone so… perfect trust him enough to bare herself to him. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. How do you get used to something so… extraordinary?

‘The picture must be good. He can’t look away from his phone,’ Seungmin laughs, all the boys looking over at Hyunjin again. ‘At least… describe it to us,’ Changbin says, Hyunjin shooting him another dirty look. ‘Bro, just go watch some porn or something,’ Chan says, everyone bursting into laughter as Changbin shoves Chan. ‘I don’t want details. Just the gist of it,’ Changbin says, like a dog with a bone, and Hyunjin rolls his eyes.

‘It’s a mirror picture, and she’s wearing a robe.’ ‘Oh. That’s it? Bro, you’re down bad if you’re getting horny over that,’ Jisung says, and Felix bursts into laughter, Hyunjin unable to hold back his own chuckles. ‘You guys haven’t seen it, though.’ ‘If she’s fully clothed, it can’t be that sexy,’ Minho says, and Hyunjin and Felix laugh again. ‘The robe’s see-through,’ Hyunjin admits. When it comes to her, his pride and jealousy regularly battle, and leave him torn between showing her off and keeping her to himself.

‘It’s see-through? Like totally see-through?’ Jisung asks with wide eyes, and Hyunjin nods smugly. ‘And is she wearing anything else?’ Changbin asks, Hyunjin shaking his head with a grin, the boys all looking shocked. ‘Wow, she must really trust you, to send you a picture like that,’ Chan says disbelievingly, Hyunjin feeling smugger by the second.

‘What the fuck are you waiting for? Go to her, stupid,’ Jeongin urges, Hyunjin chuckling. ‘There’s no rush. She likes the long game,’ Hyunjin replies mildly, the others all shaking their heads in disbelief. ‘You’ve got it so good,’ Seungmin says, voice laced with envy, and Hyunjin can’t help but grin in response.

aren’t you gonna tell me I look good?

did I make you hard in front of your friends, jinnie?

are they all jealous bc your girl is so hot?

I bet they wanna fuck me like you do

only you get to fuck me though, jin

I only want you

only wanna be good for you

He stays with the boys for another hour, but his mind is elsewhere completely. The texts she sends him every few minutes fry his brain, and he feels himself getting needier with each one. He needs her. So many addictions in his life, but he’d give them all up for her. Fuck Mary Jane and Molly; she’s his favourite.

I’m thinking of you, jinnie

always thinking of you

And those texts are the ones that push him over the edge. Not the ones about how much she wants him, how good his dick is, how wet she is for him, but the ones that make him think she cares.

‘I’m heading off,’ Hyunjin says, getting up from his seat, and the boys all laugh and cheer. ‘Coming back after?’ Jeongin asks, and Hyunjin shrugs. ‘Probably,’ he says, pulling his jacket on. ‘Here, bro. I’ve got her favourites,’ Changbin says, holding a little plastic packet out to Hyunjin. The boy takes it, and he wants nothing more than to crush the pills into tiny little pieces. But he puts them in his pocket instead, their weight on his heart like bricks.

Hyunjin doesn’t waste any more time, driving like a madman to her apartment in the city centre, praying he doesn’t get a ticket but knowing that it’s worth it for her. He has a pass for her apartment block’s car park, and thankfully his usual space, the one beside her space, is empty. She has Hyunjin to drive her around most of the time, so her barely driven black Audi A5 with its D&G interior is in pristine condition. Hyunjin has a keycard to get into her apartment and he taps his foot impatiently as he scans it, the lift slowly moving upwards. He practically leaps through the doors when they open, stepping straight into her living room.

The lights are off, allowing a clear view through the floor to ceiling windows that look out over the city, but Hyunjin doesn’t care about that view. The view on his mind isn’t in here, and he exerts the last of his self-control as he heads towards her bedroom. When he reaches the open door of her room and she comes into his eyeline, his breath catches in his throat. She’s sat on her windowsill, looking out over the skyline with a wineglass in her hand, and he knows it isn’t wine that she’s drinking. It’s never something as weak as wine.

She looks like an angel, face serene and thrown into dim light from the city, and she’s not wearing the robe anymore. She’s in underwear, just a plain black Agent Provocateur set, but she looks like the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Practically everything in her room is Louis V, but she’s worth more than it all. He walks towards her slowly, and she knows he’s there but doesn’t look over at him. As he gets closer, he sees the black lines of mascara across her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen, and he isn’t sure whether it’s because she’s higher than a kite, or she’s lower than she’s ever been before.

‘Are you high?’ he asks her softly, and she lets out a gentle laugh. ‘No.’ ‘So you’ve been crying?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘You gonna tell me why?’ ‘No,’ she replies, voice like silk, and Hyunjin lets out a gentle sigh. ‘You can’t keep it all bottled up.’ ‘I can, and I will. I wanted you to come here to fuck me, not to be my therapist,’ she says tiredly, Hyunjin silent.

‘Did you bring my molly?’ she asks, and he just stares at her, waiting for her to look back at him. To actually look at him for once. ‘Hyunjin?’ Silence continues to fill the room, and after what feels like an eternity, she looks at him, her eyes shining with tears. ‘No.’ ‘You didn’t?’ ‘No. I brought you enough for a week on Tuesday. It’s Friday today.’ ‘I know what day it is. My health isn’t your problem.’ ‘I know it isn’t. But you should still have some left.’ ‘That’s not your concern. If I ask you to bring me something, you should bring it.’ ‘Stop being a fucking brat.’ ‘Stop being a fucking dick.’

He wants to scream at her, grab the glass from her hand and smash it against the wall, flush the pills in his pocket down the toilet. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, staring at her, and she stares back at him.

‘When was the last time you were sober?’ ‘For fuck’s sake, Jin, I can’t-’ ‘Answer the fucking question,’ he says angrily, and she flinches at his tone. ‘I… I’m sober now.’ ‘You’ve been drinking. When was the last time you were properly sober – no drugs or drink?’ She’s completely silent, and Hyunjin remains silent too, waiting for her response.

‘On Wednesday.’ ‘I’m not fucking stupid, stop lying to me.’ ‘I’m not lying!’ ‘I swear to God, I’m walking out of here if you don’t tell me the truth.’ ‘Then leave.’ ‘Don’t tell me to leave when that’s the last thing you want,’ he murmurs, and she just stares at him, eyes shining with tears.

‘Last week.’ ‘Stop lying!’ ‘I don’t fucking know, Jin! Maybe last week, maybe last month, maybe last year, maybe longer! I can’t fucking remember! I can’t even fucking see straight most days! You think I can remember when I was last sober? I’m never fucking sober!’ she screams, her voice shattering the silence, and Hyunjin feels his heart ache at the tears spilling down her face.

‘You’re slowly killing yourself.’ ‘You think I don’t know that? I’m not a fucking idiot, Jin! I haven’t got any delusions about my health!’ ‘If you know you’re dying, why don’t you stop?’ ‘You’re not an idiot either. You don’t need me to explain that to you,’ she says tiredly, as though all of her energy has suddenly flooded away.

Hyunjin’s eyes fill with tears at the realisation. She’s doing it on purpose because she wants to die.

‘Why? ‘What?’ ‘Why do you want to die?’ he asks softly, and she laughs humourlessly. ‘I told you; I don’t want a therapy session. That’s not why you’re here.’ ‘You’re insane if you think I’m gonna fuck you now,’ he says, the girl just staring at him.

‘This isn’t a film, Hyunjin, or a book. I’m not gonna magically decide to open up to you and cry on your shoulder and you hold me whilst I sleep and then you take me to DAA tomorrow and help me get sober. That’s not how this works. That’s not who I am, or who you are. You fuck me, or you leave.’ ‘I’m not gonna fuck you when you’re like this. I’m not a fucking monster,’ Hyunjin says harshly. ‘I might have to disagree with that,’ she murmurs before taking a sip from her drink.

‘You’ve had enough for tonight,’ Hyunjin says, the girl raising an eyebrow at him as she continues to drink. ‘I said that that’s enough,’ he spits angrily, and she flinches again, taking the glass from her lips a moment later. He holds out a hand to take it, and she hesitates before handing it to him, Hyunjin celebrating internally. It’s a step forward. It might be a small one, but it’s something.

He puts the glass down on her bedside table before taking a seat beside her on the windowsill. ‘You can leave.’ ‘I know,’ he says softly, and she doesn’t reply, looking back out over the city with tears streaming down her face. They sit in silence, looking at two different views, and Hyunjin feels like he could live in this moment. Her walls are up, but she’s letting him in, even if it is just for a little while.

‘You should go.’ ‘No.’ ‘Hyunjin-’ ‘I’m not leaving.’ ‘But why?’ she whispers, so much loneliness in her voice that his heart drops. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Why are you staying? We’re not having sex, and we’re not in a relationship. You don’t have any obligations to stay,’ she murmurs, lips quivering as she speaks. ‘I know I don’t have any obligations, but I won’t leave you – not while you’re like this.’

They fall into silence again and it’s so heavy, weighing down both of their hearts. ‘No one ever stays,’ she says miserably, and he tilts his head questioningly. ‘My ex-boyfriends always left. My friends always leave. You always leave. My dad even left. So why are you staying now?’ she asks, and he’s devastated at her words. This is more than she’s ever told him, and he never expected to hear that this is her trauma. She’s got daddy issues, and that’s why she is the way she is. She’s a drug addict, an alcoholic, ridden with mental health illness, all because of her dad.

‘I’m all you have left, other than drugs and money.’ ‘That’s all I need.’ ‘If you’ve got what you need, why do you wanna die?’ ‘It’s all I need to survive. Not to live.’ ‘Don’t you want to live?’ ‘Of course I do. But not like this, not… haunted. Not weighed down. Not numb and empty, all the fucking time. I can’t escape. It’s all I am… when I’m sober. If I stay drunk, and high, I can forget it all. The second I start coming down, it all comes back, and it hurts so much. I just wanna feel… not even happy. Just… alive. For once. Without the help of alcohol and drugs and designer clothes. But they fill the emptiness inside me like nothing else does.’ ‘There’s so much more to life. Love, friendship, memories, nature, achievements.’ ‘I know, but my brain doesn’t work in that way. I could be… stood on top of the world, and I’d still feel like I want to die.’ ‘Let me help you,’ he replies, and she laughs.

‘You do help me. You help me fill the void my dad left behind. You’re an asshole. You might call me a good girl and praise me and baby me and treat me like a princess sometimes, but you’re emotionally unavailable, and you shout at me and get angry with me, and you’re never here when it matters which is good because I’d get attached if you were, and you’re horrible to me when we fuck, and you make me feel like I’m not good enough for you when you text other girls in front of me and check out every girl that passes us when we’re on a night out, and you never respond to the nudes I send you which makes me feel like I’m fucking ugly, but that’s okay because you’ll come and fuck me and I feel the validation that I need, and you never stay the night which makes me feel like you only ever want me for sex, but it’s okay because at least you like me enough to fuck me in the first place. You told me once that you won’t call me yours, but it’s okay because I’d rather my body be yours than none of me at all.’

She’s sobbing by the time she finishes speaking, struggling to breathe properly, and Hyunjin’s frozen in shock. He’s an asshole? No. He’s a guy who’s in love with her and doesn’t want her to know it, because she’s always told him that she doesn’t want his love, she wants his dick and his drugs. But maybe if he’d ignored her wishes, and openly loved her, she wouldn’t be so fucked up. She wouldn’t crave his worthless validation. She wouldn’t be so lonely that she wants to die.

‘But I’m-’ ‘No. Don’t you dare deny it and say some stupid fucking shit to try and manipulate me into thinking you care. You don’t have to. I know you couldn’t give a shit about me, and I’ve known for so long, and it doesn’t matter,’ she says, furiously wiping away her tears, and Hyunjin shakes his head, taking her trembling hands into his. ‘No, you don’t understand. I’m only like this because you pushed me away. We were so good at first, I used to openly adore you, but you pushed me away and told me that you didn’t want that from me.’ ‘Yeah, because I’m fucked up! I turned you into an asshole, and then fell in love with you! More fool fucking me! Can you just leave now?’ she asks, pulling her hands from his and looking away. His heart sings at her confession that she does love him, that this isn’t one-sided, but it quickly quietens when he sees the look on her face.

‘I’m literally trying to tell you that I’m in love with you too. I want to be with you, and do the things we’ve never done. Restaurant dates, and staying the night and laying with you, and shopping trips that don’t end up with us fucking in the Chanel back room – not that I’m complaining about that, obviously. But I just want to be with you. We could be so good together – just give us a chance. Things don’t have to be this way.’ ‘They are.’ ‘But they don’t have to be! Just give me a day. A day to be more than your dick appointment and your dealer. All I need is one day with you, and I can make the pain better.’

‘No, Hyunjin. Just go,’ she says quietly, the tears gone and her voice calm. She’s shutting herself off again, pushing him back out, and it makes him panic. ‘Don’t do this. This is your chance to be happy, for us to be happy together.’ ‘No. Leave, like you always do,’ she murmurs, and he can see the city lights reflected in her eyes, the galaxy held between her lashes.

‘I only left because you wanted me to.’ ‘I still want you to.’ ‘But you love me.’ ‘They don’t cancel each other out.’ ‘That doesn’t-’ ‘Make any sense? I know. I don’t make any sense. I want love, but I’m scared of it. I hate my dad for abandoning me, but I only ever want guys that abandon me so if you stay, I’ll fall out of love with you, or I’ll push you away like I did when we first started fucking so that I can carry on loving you. I was never treated right, but I only ever want guys that treat me badly, so if you treat me right, I’ll get bored of you. I never got love from my dad, so I’ve been running from it my whole life, and that isn’t gonna change. I’ve driven myself insane for years, trying so hard to understand why I’m like this, but I am, and you should just accept that instead of trying work me out.’

Hyunjin just blinks, trying to process her words. Where does he win? The only way he can have her is carrying on being the asshole he’s been for the past few years, but there’s only so long he can keep that up when he’s falling more and more in love with her by the day. But if he openly loves her, she won’t want him anymore. Hyunjin makes a vow that if, by chance, he ever encounters her dad, he’s gonna beat the shit out of him. And he also makes a vow that he’s gonna help her, get her to therapy or DAA, because there’s no other way he can see a positive outcome.

‘You should just leave.’ ‘How can I leave you like this?’ ‘Because I can’t love you if you stay. I don’t love people who stay, and I never have. So… go. Please,’ she says, no emotion, no nothing in her voice, or on her face. She looks like one of those ancient marble statues, passive and cold but beautiful. And Hyunjin knows that he doesn’t want to live a life without her in it, so he does the only thing he can tonight, the only thing that won’t push her away.

‘Fine. I’ll fucking leave, since you keep fucking telling me to,’ he says harshly, the girl flinching at the suddenness of him pushing himself off the windowsill, feet landing heavily on the floor. ‘Came here to fuck you, and you’re fucking crying instead. You’re such a fucking mess. I should have brought your fucking molly. At least you keep your fucking mouth shut when you’re rolling. Never tell me to come over if you’re in your feels again, ‘cause I don’t wanna sit here and listen to you whine about your shitty dad,’ he mutters angrily, loathing himself for the words he’s using against her, the kind of words he’s subjected her to for so long, the words that made her fall in love with him.

Despite his brain screaming at him to not look back before leaving, he does it anyway, and when he sees her reaching for her glass again, eyes filled with tears and lips curled up into a sad smile, he feels his heart break into a million little pieces. He should knock the glass out of her hand. He should tell her how much he loves her, and how he’s not gonna give up on them. He should force her to get into his car, take her to rehab, and tell her that he won’t stand by and watch her slowly kill herself. But he squares his shoulders, ignoring the clink of her glass against her Cartier rings, and leaves her bedroom with the weight of the world on his shoulders and her face in his mind.

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione), Part Four

Well, here’s part four for you! It’s really just part three continued, but since I didn’t want the previous part to be 7k words or so long, I split it up. The total wordcount is 12.4k words now!!

Thank you very much to those of you who’ve commented and sent me lovely owls on here to let me know you’re enjoying it! (this is a sideblog for me, so I don’t respond to comments on posts, but I do answer asks as Cashmere).

I know a lot of folks (me included) don’t like starting to read WIPs that are unfinished, so thanks to those of you who have hopped on now. Consider yourselves honoured beta readers! It’ll go up on AO3 when it’s all posted on here and completed.

No real warnings for this one, just some discussion of their past relationships (for both Hermione and Draco) before the plot thickens and things warm up a bit in part five. Not sure when that’ll go up - it kind of depends on how much feedback I get on this one I guess! Comments and reblogs feed an author’s muse after all.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

___

At her wry smile and tiny shrug, Malfoy laughed, apparently reassured. “A little,” he repeated softly to himself under his breath.  

After a heartbeat she shot him a sidelong look and added, “You’ve changed so much, Draco. I can hardly believe it, but it’s clear as day.”

He did a little double take at the sound of his name on her lips, and then he smiled. It was such a tiny, fragile melting of his expression that she nearly missed it.  

“I mean it,” she said, tightening her fingers on his steel-cable forearm for a fraction of a second. “I don’t know if it was the war or your marriage, or becoming a father, or something else entirely, but… you’re not the same person you were back at Hogwarts. Not at all.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he hissed. “I had a hell of a lot of growing up to do. I think I did ninety percent of it in the space of sixth year. But Astoria helped steady me after… after Hogwarts and all the bollocks and bullshit of the aftermath of… of… you know.”

“‘Bollocks and bullshit’ is a mighty casual way to say ‘a short stay in Azkaban and three years of house arrest’, Malfoy. That’s got to change a person, for sure.”  

He shrugged. “I’m just glad it’s all in the past now. For the most part, anyway.” The silence that followed spoke volumes of the baggage that they were all still hauling around with them, of one kind or another.  

They wound their way across the park’s pathways with no particular direction in mind. As the glittering waters of the Serpentine drew into view in the deepening dusk, she murmured, “I’m glad you came tonight.”

“Me too,” he said, voice little more than a low rumble above the sussurating wind in the trees. “Theo seemed on fine form, and it was nice to see Pans again. It’s been a few months. Longbottom looks good too,” he added as an afterthought. “He grew into himself, didn’t he?”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “Never would have called his and Pansy’s relationship though. I thought she went for the bad boys like you and Blaise…”

Malfoy snorted. “I’m a ‘bad boy’ now, am I? That’s an interesting spin on my past.”

“Maybe not so much ‘bad boy’ now as ‘grumpy reclusive Mr. Rochester’. How about that?”

“He one of your Muggle heroes?” he asked without sting.  

“Yeah. He’s Jane Eyre’s leading male. A bad-tempered rich man who has a big house in the middle of nowhere and a secret deranged wife in the attic.”

“Well, I hit three out of the four criteria…” he said and Hermione’s heart lurched as she remembered he wasn’t a bachelor but a widower.  

“Shit, Draco, I’m sorry,” she said. “That was thoughtless of me.”

He shook his head, the silver hair of his forelock tossing about as he chuckled, an entirely unfamiliar sound which she decided she wanted to hear again almost immediately. “It’s fine, Granger. You haven’t got a malicious bone in your body. Besides, it was a long time ago.”  

They came naturally to a halt in front of the man-made lake and stared out at the lapping water for a time before she uncoupled her grip from his arm and shucked her coat back on.  

That done, she drew in a deep breath and paused, leaning her forearms on the back of a cast-iron bench overlooking a flock of huddled, plastic pedalo boats moored up offshore. Malfoy remained a pace behind her, back straight as an arrow, his hands tucked into his pockets now that she was no longer hanging onto him.  

A fair few Muggles were out and about, some walking lazily as she and Draco had been, others pounding along the pavement on their evening run, and a good number were walking dogs. The sheer mundanity of it all struck her deeply for a moment and her breath caught in her throat.  

“Granger?” he asked in a soft voice.  

She straightened and turned to look back at him over her shoulder. “I was just thinking how close we came to losing all of this… Sometimes it seems like a million years ago, and others…”

“Like yesterday,” he finished a beat later. His eyes glittered in the half-light, pale lashes ghostly and ethereal, and in the dark, his pupils were wide and black and inviting.  

“Let’s keep going, hmm?” she chirped.  

In fact, he walked her all the way back to her rather modest apartment in Muggle London. “You didn’t want to live closer to work at the bookshop?” he asked as she fumbled for her very ordinary, Muggle keys with half-frozen fingers.  

Giving up, she murmured a quick ‘alohomora’ and pressed her hand to the extra ward she had placed on it. “I’ve lived here since I moved out of the house with Ron. Never seen any point in looking for something bigger or whatever. It’s cosy, and it’s just me anyway. You want to come in? I’ll have to tweak the wards if you do.”

“I… I don’t want to be a bother,” he said, his expression pinching.  

“No bother. It’s a three minute job, if that.”  

He looked torn, teetering on the edge of a refusal, but as she swept her curls back out of her face and blinked up at him, he seemed to waver, and finally he nodded. “Alright. Yes please.”

“Stay put. I’ll be right back,” she said, and left the door open so that he wouldn’t feel like a stray dog shut out in the cold.  

After setting her bag and coat down on a sofa in the main living room, she stood and centred herself, reaching for the wards with her magic. They thrummed reassuringly as she wove a slightly different pattern into them, allowing Draco Malfoy to come and go, and then she released the magic once again.  

“Ok!” she called to him and he stepped tentatively inside, shutting the door with a polite click behind him and levering off his fancy dragonhide Oxfords at the doormat.  

There was something so intimately sweet about seeing him pad across the fake-wooden lino of her living room floor in his dark socks that she couldn’t help grinning.  

“Those are some powerful wards you’ve got up,” he commented as he blinked curiously around the room.  

“Hangover from the Ministry days, I suppose. Plus this is technically a Muggle building, so I can’t have anyone noticing anything strange. There’s another witch here, up on the seventh floor, but we don’t see each other often. You want something to drink? I’ve got tea or coffee, and a small selection of wine, though nothing nearly as nice as what Theo has on tap…”

He smiled. “A tea would be lovely.”

She ducked out into the tiny galley kitchen and lost herself in the simple task of filling and boiling the Muggle kettle. She turned to find Malfoy leaning his shoulder against the door frame, hands cupped under opposite elbows, watching her with that owl-like intensity again.  

“Muggle kitchen,” she grinned almost sheepishly. “Magic is great for a lot of things, but some routines just can’t be beaten.” Ron had always hated and mistrusted things like electric kettles and refrigerators, not quite fully understanding the way it grounded her in her Muggle upbringing.  

“I’m not judging you,” he said, voice low and slightly hoarse. “I’m just interested. Do you mind?”

“No,” she said, fishing in the cupboard for her selection of teabags. She held the cardboard box open for him to select one and her eyebrows rose when he chose a delicate mint and chamomile one, but she offered no comment. “I can give you a masterclass in using Muggle kitchens if you like.”

His lips pulled back into a broad, dazzling smile and he laughed. “Go on then.”

“Fridge,” she said, opening it and showing him. “Keeps things cold; powered by electricity. Freezer, keeps things, well, frozen…” She continued her tour while the tea steeped, and by the time she was done, the tea was ready and they made their way back out into the humble living room, with a second-hand sofa and a battered old coffee table with more ringed coffee-stains on than visible surface.  

Her stomach rumbled and he raised an eyebrow at her.  

“I didn’t get a chance to eat anything yet, other than nibbles at Theo’s,” she cringed.

“Don’t let me stop you having something for supper then,” he said.  

“I’m not going to scoff a freezer dinner on my own while you sit there and watch me,” she blurted, laughing. “Unless you want to join me? I’ve got a couple of pizzas in the freezer. Nothing fancy, but they’ll be ready in twenty minutes or so if I put the oven on now.”

Malfoy looked like he’d missed something somewhere but was too embarrassed to ask, so he just said, “Pizza? Sure. The last time I had pizza was when I took Scorpius to Rome.”

“Well,” she said, setting her mug down on the table and heading into the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she called, “I can guaranteed these won’t be nearly as good as those were, but they’re pretty tasty. I think they’re both chicken and pesto - is that alright?”

“Perfectly.”

Oven on, she returned and folded herself into the squashy armchair which sat at right angles to the sofa, tucking one leg up beneath her and drawing the other foot up beside her. Malfoy, of course, sat like he was about to take tea with the Queen, while she felt like a pretzel on a shelf. A comfy pretzel though, she thought as she reached for her mug.  

“I’m glad we walked back,” she said after a moment. “I can’t believe I worked myself up into such a tizzy over Ron like that. It’s so childish…”

Malfoy sipped his tea and then cradled it between his long, pale fingers for a moment. “What happened between you two? I thought you three were —”

“— the ‘Golden Trio’?” she purred, voice laden with sarcasm.  

He made a conciliatory gesture with his head but said nothing more.  

She sighed. “We were. I mean, Harry and I are still super close - I’m James’ godmother after all. Ginny’s the sister I never had, but something went wrong with Ron somewhere along the line.” She knew exactly what the final blow had been, but there had been a myriad other issues on both sides before that. “I think… I think he felt like he never had a real niche, you know? He was always second fiddle to Harry in the heroics and quidditch departments, and, well, everyone knows I was the brains of the trio,” she said self-effacingly. “That’s not to say that he’s stupid — he’s not.”  

Malfoy scoffed at that, and for a moment she saw the petulant, petty little thirteen year old he had once been. A deeply sceptical look filled his eyes, and he looked like he was physically biting his tongue to keep himself from disagreeing with her.  

“No, really,” she scowled. “He just makes stupid, split-second decisions without thinking anything through. I’m not defending what he did or how he behaved at the end of our marriage, but…” she sighed heavily and drank a mouthful of too-hot tea that scalded her throat on its way down. “He’s in a pretty good place now with Lavender. We just… rub each other up the wrong way, even now I think.”

“Theo said he was being an arsehole earlier,” Malfoy pushed.  

She shrugged. “A bit. I think he carries a lot of bitterness towards…” she gestured vaguely in Malfoy’s direction, “… Slytherins? I’m not really sure. Stupid house prejudices that a lot of witches and wizards clearly never get over. As if one moment in our history defines us for the rest of our lives, or as if we’re limited to the characteristics of the house we were sorted into at the age of eleven… It’s just so fucking dumb, Malfoy!”

He laughed softly at that.  

“What? You don’t agree?”

“No, I absolutely agree with you. I was enjoying hearing you swear, that’s all. Forgive me.”

She flushed and looked away, anger leaving her as swiftly as it had come. “Ron has a lot of insecurities, and a few of them centre around me, but… I guess I just wasn’t enough for him in the end.”

“How could you possibly be ‘not enough’ for someone, Granger?” Draco asked in a hoarse whisper. “And you were the bloody Minister for Magic for Merlin’s sake…! What more did he want from his witch? Morgana herself reincarnated?”

She laughed long and loud at that, and Malfoy seemed to relax a little in the wake of his little outburst. “My reign was very short though,” she said as she stood and took the opportunity to put the pizzas in the oven. When she returned, she asked carefully, “What about you and Astoria?”  

“What about us?” he asked, voice even and steady, though his eyes swirled softly like Trelawney’s crystal balls, hiding their secrets behind a shifting sheen of silver.  

“Were you happy?”

Malfoy’s eyes slid away from her to stare unseeing at a point across the room, and he sat back against the sofa cushions, still nursing his cheap, Tesco mug between his hands.

“Yes,” he said eventually. “For the most part we were. It wasn’t… earth-shattering or anything, but it was pretty good, all things considered. It was arranged by our families, you know?”

She nodded.

“I knew Astoria’s older sister, Daphne, far better than I knew her, but Daph promised to an Austrian count already. He’s actually very nice. I’m glad for her.”

“I vaguely remember Daphne from school, but I didn’t have many classes with her as we got older.”

“I’d met Astoria a few times before it was all formally arranged, but even then, we only met a total of perhaps five or six times before the wedding proper. It wasn’t the huge event my mother had always dreamed of throwing for me, but with my father in Azkaban and me under house arrest, the mood wasn’t really there, you know?”  

Hermione did some quick maths and realised he must have been only nineteen or so when he’d been married, and her eyes widened. She’d only been twenty-two when Ron and she had tied the knot, but still, that struck her as very young. Scorpius hadn’t been born straight away though, and there had been vicious gossip about blood-curse-related infertility until the little mandrake had arrived. Hermione been about to make the leap to Minister at the incredibly tender age of twenty five when the attack on the Manor had taken place, and Scorpius had been mere months old at the time.

“Toria and I grew to know each other better,” Draco went on, “And in time, I think we came to love each other, in our own way. She certainly adored Scorpius before the blood curse took her.”

“What was she like?” Hermione asked in a whisper.  

Again, Malfoy sighed and closed his eyes with his head tipped back to rest against the sofa cushions. “Quiet, intelligent, articulate, easy-going most of the time, but when she got passionate about something, she could be pretty stubborn. Scorpius inherited a lot of that from her.”

“He looks like you though,” she said. “I mean… almost exactly like you did at that age. It gave me quite the turn when I saw the two of you on Platform 9 3/4 you know?”

He smirked and cracked an eye open. “Tell me about it,” he said. “Mother is always calling him ‘Draco’ instead of ‘Scorpius’. It drives him nuts.”

They shared a laugh at that. “Your mother lives with you at the Manor then?”

“Yes and no,” he said, shuffling a little and getting comfy again, relaxing his torso more casually against the arm of the sofa at last. “She moved out of the main manor when Toria and I married. Now she lives at what we affectionately call the Dower House. Officially it’s called Nightshade Cottage.”

“Ominous name,” she said and he smiled again.  

“Apt though. There’s a rambling, stone-walled potion-garden round the back of it, full of all sorts of interesting plants, and a stunning rose garden at the front. It’s really beautiful in spring, and rather potent in summer.”

“You make it sound almost welcoming,” she said without thinking and he huffed a dry laugh.  

“Parts of the estate really are lovely, Granger; its sordid past notwithstanding.”

When the beeper went on the timer, Malfoy jumped and looked confused, but she laughed and showed him. She did use her wand to cut up the pizzas though, and by the time they were seated back on the sofas with plates in their lap, they resumed their easy talk as if they’d never been interrupted. Watching Malfoy in his fancy clothes and eating pizza with his hands was almost too much for Hermione to bear, but if she focused on his voice too much instead, she found herself mesmerised on that front too. Who’d have thought that Hermione Granger would have found herself growing more and more attracted to Draco Malfoy all these years later.  

Long after they’d finished eating, they spoke a little more of Scorpius, and how Malfoy guessed he was getting on after his first week at school. “Of course, he hasn’t written to me yet, but I’m hoping he might pen something this weekend…”

“You worry about him, don’t you?”

“Constantly,” he snorted. “One of the burdens of being a father, I suppose.”

“Of being a good one,” she amended, and she didn’t miss the way he swallowed thickly and blinked his glassy eyes rapidly a few times.  

Then he sighed expansively and then levered himself to his feet. “It’s late, Granger, and I should probably be going. I’ve got a meeting to get to early tomorrow morning in Scotland, and I still have a bit of paperwork to do tonight.”

“But it’s the weekend, Malfoy,” she said as she rose too. “You can’t have to work, surely?”

He nodded and shrugged, but made his way to the door and slid his feet back into his shoes without further comment or explanation.  

A little, fluttering, doxy-wing cloud of nerves shimmered to life in her chest as they stood face to face at the door. Malfoy swallowed again and hitched a tiny, lopsided smile. “Thanks for tonight, Granger. And…” he faltered and shook his head. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Thank you.”

“I feel like I should be thanking you,” she said. “You got me out of my funk and walked me safely home.” She ran her fingers through her mass of curls and didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to watch the movement before he blinked and turned away to open the door, clearing his throat.  

With his fingers still on the handle, he paused and looked back over his shoulder. “My pleasure, Granger. Sincerely.”

Hermione barely managed to offer him a watery smile before he was striding off down the corridor.  

She lingered in the doorway long after his footsteps had faded down the stairwell — apparently using the Muggle lift alone had proved too daunting for him. After she locked the door and recharged the wards behind her, she picked up his empty plate and mug to put them in the dishwasher.  

As she passed the dresser that had once belonged to her mother, she caught sight of a moving photograph of Crookshanks. The half-kneazel was staring at the flat’s front door with his yellow, lamp-like eyes wide. “What do you think of him now, huh Crooks?” she asked the photo. “Bit different, eh?”

Photo-Crookshanks purred and circled in the bottom corner of the frame a few times, bottle-brush tail twitching, before returning to his fireplace and curling up with a look of contentment on his face. God, she missed that cat.  

“Yeah. I think I like him too, Crooks,” she said. “Merlin help me, but I think I like him too.”

.

Part Five

___

I’ve only written all 12,410 words of this because people told me they liked it, otherwise it’d have stayed on whatever the first chapter was, so if you want more, let me know with a reblog! Feel free to send me an anonymous owl too if you’re more comfortable doing that.

Anyway, take care, and more soon, I hope. I’ve got a fair chunk plotted out, and it should take us up to Christmas in the storyline (it’s September now for them).

writing masterlist | Ao3

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Klaine it up! 2, 7, 12, 21, 50

Okay...I got this. PROMPTS FOUND HERE

2 - you accidentally sprayed them with yogurt when you open the lid the wrong way. 

This was not Kurt Hummel’s first time opening yogurt but it might’ve well have been. He was sitting at a picnic table in Central Park on his lunch break from Vogue.com having just picked up a BLT, sweeten iced tea, and strawberry yogurt from his newfound favorite sandwich shop. It just happened to be two blocks down from the Vogue offices too. 

After eating half a sandwich, he found himself watching three young girls practicing their hula-hooping skills. Of course, while entranced by the colorful swirls of plastic, Kurt grabbed his low-fat yogurt and pulled at the lid, and the minute he did another man was being dragged by his golden retriever over to Kurt’s table. 

Before he could stop it, a splash of light pink yogurt was splattered across the front of a bright blue polo. 

“Shit, I am so sorry,” they both said. 

Kurt had a lap full of puppy and the man covered in yogurt. 

“She’s really friendly and has a fondness for bacon,” the man said, gesturing to the sandwich. “And who can blame her.” 

With that comment, Kurt pushed his meal away slightly. Out of reach of the dog’s mouth. 

“I usually am way more careful with my food,” Kurt said. 

The handsome man only laughed, “it’s no big deal, do you happen to have a napkin?” 

“Oh yes!” Kurt reached into his bag to grab one. 

“Thanks,” he said, “come here, Lacey.” 

The puppy sat right at his side and waited. Kurt stood up to wipe the yogurt away while the man kept Lacey still. 

“I can...” he started to say but Kurt was already pulling away having cleaned it up the best he could. 

“Lacey and I also share a fondness for cute boys but I don’t suppose...” he trailed off, blushing. 

Kurt still wasn’t used to being flirted with but this wasn’t small town, Ohio. 

“And who can blame you,” Kurt replied, already grabbing a pen and paper from his bag to write on. 

THE REST OF THE PROMPTS CAN BE FOUND BELOW THE CUT

7 - you both do the side-to-side dance when you try to pass them in the grocery store aisle

Kurt told his dad to pick up an extra heavy whipping cream three days ago when Burt asked if Kurt needed any other ingredients for Thanksgiving dessert. He told him. 

“I only need 3 things: dark chocolate, heavy whipping cream, and almond extract.” 

Burt had gotten everything but Kurt needed whipping cream for both the chocolate mousse itself and the whipped topping he planned to make. Now he was at the crowded grocery store one day prior to Thanksgiving. Exactly where he didn’t want to be. 

 Of course, every grocery store made you walk all the way to the back of the store for dairy products. I’ll just grab milk and eggs real quick, you think, then suddenly you have a cart full of snacks you didn’t need. 

Kurt found the red and white carton fairly quick. He backed up and started to make his way to the self-checkout. Before he could think about the temptation of potato chips, he was stopped by another body. 

They both stopped and shifted their feet to make way for the other. From right to left and back again for several seconds before both falling into pits of laughter. Kurt looked into deep hazel eyes that twinkled at him. He wondered how long he could do this dance just to stare at them some more. 

“That’s my fault, I came around the corner too quick,” he said. 

Not quick enough, Kurt thought, we could’ve fallen to the floor. You on top of me would be quite nice. 

“No, it’s all me,” Kurt replied, “I should’ve been watching where I was going.” 

He fumbles into his pocket for a business card. Isabel’s one-month anniversary gift. 

“If you’re in town longer than tomorrow, I’d love to buy you some coffee as an apology,” Kurt said, handing the card over. 

“Oh.” Kurt watched him scan the card, flipping it over in his hands. “I’d love to, Kurt.” 

A shiver ran down his spine. Maybe he should thank his dad for forgetting the cream. 

12 - you kick a ball and your shoe flies off, hitting them in the back of your head

Blaine used to hate having an older brother. Growing up, he felt constantly in competition with Cooper’s larger-than-life personality. Now that Cooper had settled down in LA with Lisa, his wife, and had two wonderful kids, having an older sibling didn’t seem too bad.

It was summer break, Blaine was free to leave the confines of his NYU dorm room. He was trying to get lost in the sunshine of California to forget he was about to start his final year of college. Time with his niece and nephew was sure to put any nervousness out of his head. 

They were playing soccer in the park when it happened. It was bound to. Everyone in LA was hot. It was like the law. 

Cute boys and Blaine’s non-existence coordination weren’t a good mix. 

Blaine went to kick the ball and caught sight of a bicep. An unusually pale bicep. A rare sight in sunny Los Angles. Arms, Blaine fantasized, he’d love to see wrapped around him or possibly pushing his legs apart. 

He was sure he tighten his laces. This is why Blaine Anderson didn’t wear sneakers. Missed the ball by an inch but the force of his kick sent something flying through the air directly towards the cute guy: a sneaker. 

It happened so fast, Blaine heard the yell of surprise before realizing his sock was exposed. Once he realized what happened, he rushed over to the man. 

“Fuck, I am so sorry,” Blaine said. “Can I do anything?” 

“Well, an aspirin would be great,” the man teased. 

Blaine sat in the grass and chuckled. Still extremely embarrassed. 

“Not exactly the fairytale I always dreamed of.” 

“Fairytale?” Blaine asked, scrunching up his nose in confusion. 

“Cinderella,” he said, like it was obvious, “a lost shoe as it were.” 

“I’m not Cinderella,” Blaine told him, “sorry to say. I’m more of a Blaine.” 

“Kurt.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” 

“I do believe this is yours,” Kurt said, handing over the shoe. 

21 - Almost spilling a drink because you met their eyes and got distracted thinking how cute they are. 

His dad always said pour your drinks yourself. Blaine became that friend who grabbed drinks for everyone for this reason exactly. He wasn’t sure what the occasion was exactly but his study buddy from his songwriting workshop invited him. It was at some loft in Bushwick but Blaine didn’t mind the adventure. 

Until tonight he had no reason to venture to this part of the city. 

“Blaine!” Elliott exclaimed, pushing a solo cup into his hand, “Drink up, karaoke at eleven!” 

Then he disappeared into the crowd. Blaine headed straight for the kitchen and poured the toxic mixture down the sink. He found a new cup and started reading the labels of the bottles spread out across the counter. Mixers and any alcohol of your choice seemed to be available. 

Rum and coke sounded good. He went into the fridge for a cold soda first. Blaine was happy the kitchen was empty he wasn’t quite ready to start making friends. As far as he knew, Elliott was the only friendly face here tonight. 

He poured the rum in for some semblance of tracking his alcohol intake. The last time he got drunk, he dialed the professor he TA-ed for, who thankfully overlooked that incident. Blaine cracked open the coke and while he poured surveying the living room. 

People were dancing to an upbeat pop song that Blaine strangely didn’t recognize and others were mingling in doorways or sat on scattered sofas and chairs chatting. He caught a pair of blue eyes in the crowd. 

The man they were attached to was stunning. If he hadn’t blinked, Blaine could’ve mistaken him for a marble statue carved by the gods. They didn’t lose eye contact as he walked towards the kitchen. It wasn’t until the man stood on the other side of the counter that Blaine noticed his hand was covered in soda. 

“Papers towels are behind you,” the man offers. 

Blaine set the now empty can down and spun around for paper towels to clean up his mess. 

Just great, he thought, make a fool out of yourself. That’ll score you some points. 

He cleans up his hand before wiping down the puddle of bubbling coke on the counter. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he continues, “and this is my party so I like to know all my guests.” 

“Your party?” Blaine stutters. 

“It’s my birthday.” 

“I’m Blaine,” he introduces. “Elliott invited me. We have a class together.” 

“Oh, you’re Blaine. From songwriting workshop.” 

“That’s me.” 

Elliott’s obviously talked about him before to this man. This gorgeous, completely out of Blaine’s league man. 

“God, he’s relentless,” he says. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“Um, might I ask why? I can leave if there’s an issue.” Blaine knows when he isn’t welcome. 

“No, no,” he replies, “don’t go. It’s just he’s been trying to set us up for months now.” 

It all clicks.

“Oh god, you’re Kurt.” 

“That’s me, the birthday boy. and you are Elliott’s idea of the best gift ever.”

Blaine blushes. “I don’t know if I can I've up to that but if I can have the next dance I can try.” 

Kurt nods. “I’d like that, Blaine. A lot.” 

50 - getting paired up on an amusement park ride that requires even-numbered riders

All of Kurt’s friends hated rollercoasters. Rachel didn’t like heights, Elliott refused to do anything with loops, and Santana, well, she was too caught up in her new girlfriend to be bothered. 

“I only wanna hear screaming tonight,” she told him. 

So, Kurt waited in line himself. Some fun day at Coney Island this was turning out to be. He was so glad he was spending the day with friends. Kurt rolled his eyes. 

The woman directing the ride gave Kurt his row number and moved down the line. Behind him someone tapped on his shoulder, Kurt turned around and found himself looking at a curly-haired man around his age. 

“Guess we’re both odd men out then, I’m the single rider in my group today.” 

“Oh, um, no, my friends were too chicken to even ride,” Kurt said. 

“I’m really surprised Wes and David are good to go. They both hate being upside-down.” 

Kurt smiled.

“I'm Blaine, by the way.”

“Kurt.” 

The ride emptied out and Kurt crawled over to the far seat. They buckled themselves in and listened to the instructions to keep all body parts inside at all times. Then, the bar came down and the ride launched. 

After the ride ended, Blaine and Kurt were chatting all the way down. Wes and David trailing behind them.

“That second loop really threw me,” Blaine was saying. 

“I saw,” Kurt exclaimed, “I thought you were going to fall out of your seat.” 

“Downfalls of being short and compact.”

When three more people joined their day at the park, no one questioned it. 

[winterhawkwonderland]

2020 Exchange Round up!

It’s here!!! An easy to find complete list of works from our 2020 Winterhawk Wonderland Exchange event. It is listed by title of work and author or artist, and includes rating, summary, and word count (if applicable). Our event excluded any of the AO3 Big Four warnings, but please do check tags and warnings on each work before diving in, just in case you find something there that squicks or triggers you!

Once again, thank you all so much for participating and making this a great event! Love the Winterhawk fandom!

If you do not see your work listed, please contact the Mods and we will update the post - all works were pulled from the AO3 Collection, but it’s possible we overlooked something or made a mistake! Additionally - Tumblr (in true Tumblr fashion) would not let us tag some creators - their names are on the list but the hyperlink doesn’t work. We apologize for the technical difficulty, but have no way of fixing broken Tumblr links. Please know that no offense was intended. 

The 300 Club by @fosterthefuture for @gwhell. Rated T, 10,109 words “Me here?” Bucky asks, a little hysterically. “What do you expect me to do, be the one to haul your frozen body in from the snow bank you inevitably fall into and die in?”Clint chuckles, as though what Bucky’s asked is completely illogical, which it decidedly is not. “Nah, you can suit up if you want to come along to make sure I stay on track, but I’ll make it back just fine. I really just need you to be here to make sure the door stays open, help me get my boots off and into those blankets when I get back.”“Clint,” Bucky asks, eyes now closed. “Please tell me you wouldn’t do this if you were completely alone.”The silence that emanates from the sauna is telling.“Well,” Clint finally says, “I’m trying to not get into the habit of lying to you, Barnes.”

40k misunderstandings by @verdantbogmoth for @flawsinthevoodoo. Not Rated, 3,280 words. “Are they real?” Bucky gasps. “Who keeps bags of real rose petals just lying on hand?”“Tony, for special random events and for us to steal to have fun with,” Clint supplies helpfully. “Where do they go?”“Everywhere,” Bucky decides. “The couch, the table, the fucking tv stand.” Clint pops the bag and they spend several minutes turning Bucky’s living area into a very perfumed, petal draped nightmare. “Oh, my god.” Bucky says gleefully. “It looks like a porno,” Clint claps. “A serial killer porno!” Bucky amends. “This is fantastic. Why aren’t rose petals everywhere, always. Why don’t more people just throw them around for any old event?”

[ART] Christmas fluff by @elynehil for @chekov-in-a-dress. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift :)

[ART] Cooking By The Book by @not-the-blue for @thegrowingwordsmith. Rated G.  Clint attempts a holiday recipe from Bucky's childhood. He... might need a second attempt.

[art] i (heart) hawkeye by @gwhells for @lantaniel. Rated G. Art for lantaniel for the Winterhawk wonderland gift exchange!

[ART] i still feel this way when light catches your face by @quicksillver for @sevdrag. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift! :)

An Affinity for Elf Culture by @bella-dahlia for @trekchik. Rated T. 8,501 words. When Bucky Barnes was told he would be doing press and community outreach as part of his prosthetic program, no one mentioned to him it would involve dressing up like an Elf from the North Pole.The hella cute blonde elf in head to toe purple hadn't been brought up either.Hiding in his hoodie wasn't going to be an option, was it?

All I Want for the Holidays Is You by @merelypassingtime for @flowerparrish. Rated G. 7,205 words. Clint obligingly took the last name in the hat. Unfolding it he read the name, Bucky. Crap. What was he supposed to do with that? When Clint draws Bucky’s name for the Avengers holiday gift exchange, he struggles to find the perfect gift.

as long as it’s with you by @theproblemwithstardust for @theonlyceeceej. Rated T. 2,651 words. Clint didn’t know when the thing between him and Bucky became an actual thing. At some point the banter had evolved from a fun and engaging way to pass the time into a weirdly competitive game of flirting chicken.

A bad day turned good by @gabrielsammysangel for @misterknife. Rated G. 1,115 words.  Clint Barton was having a bad day, one kiss to take it all away. Aka how a full bad day can be wipped away when you have a good boyfriend.

Bandages and Soot by @fanbinbun for @hawkguyandthewinterdude. Rated T. 2,358 words. “Oh, you’re new. Hi! I’m Clint. I come here often.” “I have been warned.” Bucky said with amusement curling his lips. “Got a name, or should I just give in and start calling you ‘hot nurse’?”

Because of Coffee and a Chocolate Doughnut. by @jazzrose343 for @loonyloopylisa. Rated M. 5,257 words. Bucky is an Actor. Clint is stunt actor and coordinator. Shenanigans Happen

Better Than Fine by @vexbatch for @theproblemwithstardust. Rated T. 4,439 words. Clint promised Kate he'd bring a plus one to her engagement party, but now he needs to find one. Maybe Bucky will do him a favor? Maybe Clint's crush on Bucky won't be a problem for said favor?

[ART] The Cat doesn't agree by @misterknife for @Inktastic1711. Rated G.  5 words. Clint was determined to get the best family photo this year. Except now he's pretty sure that fighting alien hoards or doombot armies might actually be easier than wrangling a cat into a sweater.Bucky says that Alpine's sorry.Clint thinks she might kill him in his sleep.

cause it's just what you must do by @sevdrag for yamyamyam. Rated T. 3,399 words. Clint ducks away at Tony's holiday party for a breather. Little does he know this closet is occupied.

Christmas With the Barnes's by @jstabe for @claraxbarton. Rated T. 3,163 words. He knows Clint is nervous. If he’s honest, he is a little too. He and Clint have been dating just shy of two years but with their hectic work schedules, it’s rare for them to have full days off together so Clint isn’t used to large family gatherings.

The Common Room by @trekchik for @nana-evans. Rated E. 1094 words. No one knows they're together. Right?

Communication is key by @averyrogers83writes for @harishe-art. Rated G. 3,434 words. Bucky screws up and pisses Clint off possibly ruining any chance of having more than a working relationship with the archer.

[ART] Cookies For Two by madnerding for @hopelessly-me. Rated G. 29 words.  My prompt was for cookie decorating and I hope I delivered. Enjoy!

Coping Mechanisms by @mariana-oconnor for @feathers-and-cigarettes. Rated E. 4,321 words. After the events of Freefall, Clint Barton is exhausted, bruised and on everyone's Most Wanted list. Luckily, or unluckily, it's Bucky Barnes who ends up finding him.

Cover Me by @downwarddnaspiral for @feedmecookiesnow. Rated M. 8,618 words. Clint and Bucky end up off the grid and in close quarters. Featuring the world’s crappiest safehouse, a semi-retired spy, and an assassin with strong opinions about the cold.

Delicate, hand wash only by @mollynoble for @pherryt. Rated E. 6,074 words.  “Hey, Buck, what do you need?” Clint moved closer, he wanted to reach out but he resisted the urge, that could be a bad idea right now. “What can I do to help?” He pitched his voice low and soothing. There was a pause, then Bucky's eyes focused on him. “Right now all I want is a bath and then sleep.”

Draw Me Like One of Your Frenchmen by @alchemistdoctor for @thwip. Rated M. 1,410 words. This is written for andthwip in the winterhawk wonderland exchange, who requested sexting during inappropriate times, date night ends in trying a new kink, or getting off in the field. I managed the first two!

Fate or Natasha by bear_shark for @kidd-you-not. Rated G. 1,663 words.  How it ended: Bucky watched the rise and fall of Clint’s chest while he slept. Every few minutes, he would snuffle and rub his face against Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s phone pinged, and he carefully checked his texts. Natasha: How did your date with Clint go? Bucky sat up quickly, jostling Clint. “What the hell?” 

The Fight Before Christmas by @theonlyceeceej for @jstabe. Rated E. 4,040 words. Now, don’t let it be said that Bucky couldn’t take a joke. He could. Really. But sometimes it was just too much. Clint was just too much. Clint is the epitome of a schoolboy with a crush; Pulling pigtails, calling names, the lot! Ok, maybe it was more than a crush, judging by the many thoughts about being thrown around by the Winter Soldier. He just needed to get his attention... But will it work?

For This by @endof-theline for @elynehil. Rated G. 5,652 words. Bucky and Clint are moving in together and it's not just the boys we have to worry about, because Lucky and Alpine are moving too!

Getaway Car by @feedmecookiesnow for @genderfluid-and-confuzled. Rated G. 4,405 words. The guy regains his balance and starts running again. He slips one more time, slides a little more, and then suddenly he’s right next to the car, fumbling at the handle of the passenger side door. A blast of cold wind comes as he yanks it open, practically falling into the seat in a swirl of snowflakes. “Go, go!” he yells, and Clint goes. He doesn’t even question it, just slams the car into drive and shoots out into the street, skidding a little on the ice.

Guardian Angel by @chrissihr for @spacetimeconundrum. Rated T. 3,469 words. Clint attracts strays like moths to flame. All he wanted to do was bring home a puppy he found in a box marked ‘free’ in crayon. It was just sitting out in the rain under the awning in front of his neighborhood pizza place.He couldn't just leave it there ... right?

Hit Me With Your Best Shots by @thegrowingwordsmith for @fosterthefuture. Rated G. 2,185 words. As a barista, Bucky has witnessed a lot of crazy customers and their creations. He has made drinks with so much syrup that there was barely room for coffee, and gotten orders with so many modifications that it had to print on multiple stickers. None, however, even came close to the strangeness of Too Much Caffeine guy.

[ART] How do you like them apples? by @lantaniel for @vexbatch. Rated G.  Because Clint is incapable of 1.doing a calm activity, and 2.not climbing a tree.

Howl by @drgrlfriend for @mariana-oconnor. Rated T. 9,729 words. Excerpt: Bucky gets that uncomfortable feeling again, like he missed something. Lost time maybe. It’s been happening less and less, but it still happens. “I don’t know what you mean.” The man runs a broad hand up the back of his neck, mouth pulling to the side as he seems to consider his words. “Skin feels too tight sometimes? Feels like you gotta keep moving, but no place feels right? Got an ache deep in your bones that you just can’t seem to get rid of?” “What —” Bucky swallows, the rest of the sentence jagged in his throat. He knows there are Avengers who are witches, or telepaths, or whatever, but he’d never heard of Hawkeye being one of them. “How are you — are you in my head? —”

[ART] I got you by @vexedbeverage for @gabrielsammysangel. Rated T. 100 words. I decided I wanted to do some art but then my writing brain told me I couldn't stop there. I've never done a drabble before so I thought I'd give it a try!

I Love How Your Soul is A Mix of Chaos and Art by @flawsinthevoodoo for @merelypassingtime. Rated T. 5,745 words. This is basically a 5+1 where Clint "Borrows" a great many hoodies as a coping mechanism and Bucky decides Clint needs to be a part of his life, not just his laundry.

if these wings could fly by @flowerparrish for @hawksonfire. Rated M. 4,018 words. He waits a few moments, pretty sure he’s going to have to start knocking again, when the door swings open. There’s Bucky, shirtless, disheveled, wings spread out behind him like some kind of tragic painting of an angel. Not that Clint knows much about art, but with the dark colors and dim lights he thinks this could totally have been something one of those old dudes dreamed up.

It Must be Winter in my Heart by @harishe-art for @jazzrose343. Rated G. 3,055 words. It's the holiday season and for some reason Clint and Bucky keep getting mistaken as a couple. They hadn't even planned to meet up most of them time. Why does this keep happening to them?

It was Only a Winter's Tale by @harishe-art for @averyrogers83. Rated G. 1,628 words.  Clint and Bucky prepare to celebrate their first winter holiday together when Bucky has a realization during an argument.

it was peace by @loonyloopylisa for @drgrlfriend. Rated G. 1,932 words. “Um, hi, I’m Bucky?” he said, hating himself for the way it came out like a question. “Hi Bucky,” the man answered, a wide smile on his tan face, “I’m Clint. What can I do for you?” Inwardly thankful for this therapist for making him practice he said, “I was wondering if you had any volunteer opportunities?” Clint gave him a considering look, bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Bucky was sure he was assessing him and finding him lacking, taking in the missing arm and coming up with a reason Bucky wouldn’t fit in. He was bracing himself for the rejection when Clint said, “sure.”

A Kind of Magic by @sian1359 for bear_shark. Rated G. 7.034 words. Bucky has some help adapting from being Hydra's Winter Soldier to becoming the Avenger's Winter Soldier

Lilac you a lot by @hawkguyandthewinterdude for @harishe-art. Rated T. 6,490 words.  It starts with one purple sock and just escalates from there.

Lost Time by @lissadiane for @vexedbeverage. Rated T. 10,029 words. Clint’s always known the universe doesn’t like him all that much. But all he knows now, as his heart beats out a rhythm and there isn’t a heartbeat to harmonize with it, is that he’s found his soulmate -- and he’s been dead for over 70 years. It’s ironic. It burns. It shouldn’t surprise him. Barney won’t be surprised. Barney’s been saying the universe has it out for them for Clint’s whole life. And this is just further proof. In which soulmates exist but Clint's parents are proof that sometimes, they go terribly wrong.

The Maybe To Your Story by @kangofu-cb for @mollynoble. Rated E. 5,162 words. Bucky walked out of the shared bathroom whistling under his breath, happily ignoring Steve’s groan as he whipped off the towel around his waist to half-assedly swipe at the water droplets on his shoulders. “Oh, you’re still here?” he asked blithely, toweling at his hair. “Might want to shake a leg before you get an eyeful of something you want to see even less than my dick.” “I’m going, I’m going,” Steve grumbled. “Fuck. Can’t believe I’m getting sexiled for the third time this week. For Barton.” Or, instead of talking about their feelings, Clint and Bucky decide to fuck about it.

my hands no longer an afterthought by @shatteredhourglass for @quicksillver. Rated T. 2,922 words. Bucky's moving on with his life. Shaking off the Soldier. There's still that one nagging, blond idiot-shaped regret, though.

Nowhere to go but with you by Lacerta for @sian1359. Rated G. 5,905 words. Clint fights the urge to cross his arms, keeping them hanging loosely by his sides instead, and forces himself to relax his shoulders. It’s just a small precaution in case he needs to react fast but, god, he hopes it doesn’t come to that. He doubts any precaution that doesn’t include a loaded weapon would help him last more than a minute. He watches the man sitting across the kitchen table from him, curled in on himself under Clint’s warmest blanket with his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and tries to wrap his head around the very unusual, very alarming situation he has gotten himself into.

On The Fifth Day of Christmas, The Winter Soldier Stole For Me..... by @ch3ls3ara3 for @alchemistdoctor. Rated T. 8,178 words.  “Are these pears? Why the hell is there a pear tree in my apartment?” he asked Lucky who was now sitting patiently, staring up at the bird with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “What is happening?” Clint Barton knew he was a disaster, it never really shocked him anymore when he ended up in strange situations. These twelve days leading up to Christmas, though? Those days he would have never seen coming.

the one where Clint hates christmas horror by @thwip for @bella-dahlia. Rated M. 2,898 words. “We take turns, Clint. This week is Nat’s turn, next week is yours,” Tony quips, sipping from his own mug. “We can watch The Holiday, for the third year in a row, then.” Clint opens his mouth and starts to protest Tony’s eye roll because The Holiday is a cinematic masterpiece and Kate Winslet may give her best performance yet, Tony! Not to mention Cameron Diaz! Singing Mr Brightside! It’s a great film, when the front door opens and Bucky and Steve walk in, laughing about something. Clint's mouth snaps shut and his eyes immediately flicking towards Bucky, admiring the way the navy fabric of his henley clings to the thick biceps that are almost bursting out of it.

Operation Snowbound by RedTeamShark for @heartonfirewrites. Rated G. 4,048 words. The mission is a simple job: tag a convoy as it drives through the pass and then skedaddle back down the mountain. Easy enough that Clint could do it in his sleep. And he doesn’t even have to pull the trigger, that’s what Bucky’s there for. Until an unexpected weather event leaves the two of them stranded on a mountainside in a blizzard, battling the cold, Clint’s taste in coffee, and Bucky’s idea of idle conversation.

Outside the World by @pherryt for @verdantbogmoth. Rated G. 4,767 words. Bucky doesn't really remember who he is, and what little he does remember is impossible. All his therapists have said so. There's no way he can be who he thinks he is - a character from a children's book.And yet, the world around him just doesn't *feel* right - its too dark, too colorless and doesn't match the vibrancy of his dreams. Dreams he tries to capture both on paper and on his walls.Bucky doesn't have any answers he can count on, just the hat he's kept all these years, but that guy that started following him - as vibrant and eye-catching as the pieces of Bucky's dreams -Well, he just might.

The Prince's "Delivery Boy" by allyouneedissleep for @endof-theline. Rated T. 4,917 words. He wouldn’t have any issues at all with the secrecy rules stating that only people in confirmed legal marriages could tell their significant other about their job if he was planning to marry anyone except the Prince who was first in line to take over as King of Brooklyn after his marriage went through. Clint was about to effectively become Queen of Brooklyn and he couldn’t even tell his fiance what he did for a living. As far as Bucky knew, he was a delivery boy. A DELIVERY BOY.

[ART] Snow Way Out! by @inktastic1711 for @fanbinbun. Rated G. 24 words. Prompt: While on a mission, Clint and Bucky end up on an impromptu sledding trip down the snowy hill/mountain to escape the bad guys. Bonus points if the sled isn't actually a sled.

Snowed In by @chekov-in-a-dress for @ch3ls3ara3. Rated T. 4,332 words.  Secret Santa Story for CarafeOfColdBrew! Dad Bucky and his daughter Nat are on their way to Bentonsport where Bucky is supposed to check out a possible site to build a resort when they get overwhelmed by a snowstorm. How lucky that they get pointed to a bed and breakfast owned by a certain handsome dork.

So much to say (I just can't speak) by @hopelessly-me for Allyouneedissleep. Rated T. 3,260 words. Bucky has never considered himself the jealous type. But when Steve and Clint start hanging out more and more, Bucky starts pulling back to protect his own feelings.

Some Luck by @claraxbarton for @not-the-blue. Rated T. 3,558 words. “Cowboys?” he asked. Judith smiled at him. “I love to give my darlings what they want.”

a storm is comin' in by @heartonfirewrites for @chrissihr. Rated T. 9,686 words. Sasquatches don’t exist. Clint is sure of it. So what’s that fuckin' bigass yeti doing outside Tony’s upstate cabin in the middle of a nor’easter, looming ominously and ruining Clint’s plans for a quiet Christmas alone with Lucky?

Time and Time Again by @pherryt for @shatteredhourglass. Rated E. 6,497 words. The past has a way of catching up to people and Clint knows that better than most. Despite that ingrained life lesson, he still doesn't expect it when a part of Steve's past turns out to also be part of Clint’s. He's... not sure where to go from here.

too cold to feel (but i know you're there) by @hawksonfire for @trashcanakin. Rated T. 1,983 words.  Clint’s been cold his whole life. He doesn’t mind, really, has learned to always keep a pair of gloves on him, even in the summer. He gets weird looks for it, but he stopped caring what people thought of him a long time ago. His apartment has always got spare blankets laying around, and his dresser is jam packed with thick pairs of socks.

[ART] A Walk in the Woods by @spacetimeconundrum for @downwarddnaspiral. Rated T.  One finds the strangest things in the woods...

What's a Guy Like You Doing in a Place Like This by @sevdrag for @kangofu-cb​. Rated T. 8,091 words. A 5+1 fic for Winterhawk Wonderland: Five Times It Wasn't A Date, and One Time It Actually Was.

Word Search by yamyamyam for RedTeamShark. Rated T. 3,858 words. Bucky doesn't understand why he should have to see a doctor about a measly little bullet wound. Steve doesn't understand why that would be optional, Jesus Christ, Buck, we can have nice things now. Clint doesn't understand why he can't visit Bucky in the super-secure lockdown ward. The NYFD doesn't understand why Clint can't get out of a baby swing without the jaws of life. Natasha doesn't understand why she puts up with any of these idiots.

[ART] You Come Here Often? by @trashcanakin​ for Madnerding. Rated G.  winterHawk in the vents.

You had me at Loathing by @kidd-you-not​ for Lacerta. Rated T. 5,715 words. "What?" he asks absolutely no one, completely baffled. Movement to his left catches his eye and he twists around, still hanging from the balcony railing by his legs, and gapes. There, right there on the adjourning apartment building, is a man. A man clad all in black, with chestnut brown hair falling to his chin and a mask covering the lower part of his face. Holding a sniper rifle in his right hand and giving Clint a mocking little salute with the left. "Motherfucker!" Clint screams. Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier work for competing companies. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they cross paths on more jobs than either of their handlers can endure.

Honorable Mention:

The Opposite of Love by @teeelsie-posts for @loonyloopylisa. Rated E. 10,000 words. You know that social media post where the guy says he’s a felon and he’ll come terrorize your family for Thanksgiving in exchange for a free meal? Yeah, that’s what this is. Except that Clint is Clint, and Bucky is Bucky, and they’re both Avengers, but Clint’s family is a bunch of assholes and Bucky decides to help him out with that. Oh, and it’s Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Mod Note: This fic was begun for last year’s exchange then discarded for another idea, but Teeelsie finished it unexpectedly and asked permission to include it in this year’s collection and we were happy to allow that. Please enjoy!

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Okay so I’ve read like all your stories and I just wanted to say that you write so well. You’re so unique from all the writers on here (not that there’s anything bad with them!) and I love the perspectives you take!!

If you’re taking requests, which it’s totally okay if you’re not, could I request something for Yamaguchi? Where reader has like tried to ask him out but keeps chickening out and Yamaguchi just thinks he scares her for some reason? 🤣 tyyyyy

First of all, you are amazing and I’m so glad that you liked all my stories! They all take so much time and effort that it’s nice to hear these words from you, you kind anon. Second of all, this request literally kicked my motivation into hyperdrive, so everyone, please thank this anon because I don’t think I’d have been able to do anything worthwhile if it wasn’t for this!

If you have any more requests, I would be so happy to take them!!!

Onto the story hehe

----

Has a letter ever weighed so much in your hands? You didn’t think so. But no other letter had ever meant so much before. This had meaning, it had a reason, an entire purpose that was setting off your anxiety tenfold.

Shouldn’t it have been easy to do this? Just put the letter on his desk, walk away, and wait. Three simple steps that had been evading for the entire week. You managed to get one step closer to his desk every single day, but something always pulled you back. Maybe it was the time that he saw you walking closer and you basically ran away from him.

There were insecurities and worries, dreams and anxieties. Was he even aware of the effect he had on people? For some reason, you doubted it. But it was his kind smile, his serious undertones that people overlooked, his own worries and own fears that made you want to support him.

Oh, if only Yamaguchi Tadashi knew how you felt. Things would be so much easier.

Instead, you looked back over at his desk again, taking note of its emptiness and letting some worry wash away. Because you could put it down and he would never know it was you until he read it. He didn’t need to respond, you didn’t need an answer - the only thing you wanted him to know, was that people liked him for him, not just for Tsukishima Kei.

Today is the day, you tell yourself, though you aren’t so sure. Each step closer made you shake. He’d probably think you were lame - though you doubted it, he didn’t seem the type - but you had to try, right? How would you ever get anywhere in life if you didn’t at least try? You wouldn’t! You’d be stuck in the same place, no hope to escape.

One more step.

One last move.

That’s all you needed to do.

Your grip tightened on the letter and you cursed yourself for crinkling the edges. Heart beating so hard in your chest that it hurts - can everyone hear it as loudly as you? Your arms tensed when you thought about putting it down, and then the worst thing happened:

“Y/N, do you need something?” His voice was so warm that you might melt (and it was directed at you). All words seemed to disappear from your head and you froze. What was he going to say? You couldn’t do it now, not with him standing behind you, watching you. 

Maybe if you just pretended not to hear him…

No such luck, he tapped on your shoulder and you just jumped and turned around quickly, almost tumbling directly into him in the process. You manage to catch yourself and he looks worried, “are you okay?” Genuine worry. Oh God.

You look down at the letter and he follows your gaze. Before he can question it, you shove it into your back, smiling too widely to be normal as you fumble through words. “Y-Yep! Just fine- um… j-j-just… um- standing!” You avoided his gaze like the plague, if you met his eyes, God knows what would happen.

Instead, you try and walk past him.

That doesn’t work. Because of course it doesn’t.

You end up tripping over your feet, bringing him down to the ground with you - if the ground could open up and swallow you whole, that would be nice.

You look down at him, both of you groaning from various degrees of pain. His eyes are squeezed shut and you know you have to say something, anything, to show him that you care about the fact you’d just basically pushed him onto the ground. You’re busy trying to decide between are you okay? and I’m sorry! when your mouth decides for you. “Are you sorry?” You ask him too loudly, capturing the attention of everyone in the class.

You bury your head in your hands. That’s it, after today, you’re moving to the mountains to raise goats. Surely nothing can embarrass you up there.

Forcing yourself to stand, you practically run out of the room, stuttering a pathetic apology so you can seek refuge in your friends. They’d only laugh at you, but at least someone could, because that’s what you needed. Someone to laugh and tell you just how ridiculous you’d been.

The bell called out far too quickly - you really weren’t ready to go back to class, but you didn’t have a choice - especially not when your body decided to move for you. Seriously, your body needs to stop making these decisions today, it keeps getting you in trouble.

Of course he’s already sat in his seat, you feel his eyes on you. You can only ignore them and sink into your seat, resting your head on the table.

There was no way he’d ever like you now- no, there was no way he’d ever liked you to begin with. You’d only spoke to him a handful of times (and only a few of them had been normal conversations). You wanted him to know that you weren’t a complete mess all the time. That you could have conversations, and be normal, and not stutter through every single word. That you knew how to speak, and that you liked him. So much that it hurt. That he’d been the reason you’d watched volleyball, in the hopes it would give you something to talk about. You wanted him to know that you wouldn’t always be held back by a letter, that one day you’d be confident enough to stand by his side without almost crying.

There were too many things you wanted to tell him, show him. How would you ever be able to find the actual words to say it? You doubted you’d ever be able to. So maybe you’d just have to be content watching him from the sidelines, cheering him on during games whenever he came up to serve - because you’d always cheered the loudest for him. Only him.

You couldn’t wait to get home and curl up under the blankets with a tub of ice cream, eat your troubles away (you know, like a responsible person). But those volleyball boys had a different plan for you.

You’d barely started packing away your things - you were shaking so much it was a near impossible task - when someone stood next to your desk, basically blocking your escape. You looked up and locked eyes with Tsukishima Kei. Anxiety hit you again, but Yamaguchi wasn’t in sight, so you calmed down. “Can you come with me?” He asked, though it sounded more demanding.

Quickly agreeing, you finished packing up your bag and followed him. Only God knows how you can be so confident around him. You won’t question it, not yet. Not until you’re in the comfort of your room, fretting over the day's events.

He led you to some place close to the gym, not giving you a second to question it before he pulled a letter from his pocket. No. Not just a letter.

You recognised it, the pastel purple envelope, the little yellow heart sticker holding it closed was pressed in the corner. You wanted to sink. To fall down and cry. To scream and shout and run away from this. But you couldn’t. So you chose to smile up at him. “What’s that?” You said innocently, hoping you could play it off as some mistake. Because if he’d read it, then that meant he knew you liked Yamaguchi, which meant Yamaguchi probably knew you liked Yamaguchi, and you don’t know if you could deal with that revelation right now.

He gave you a look and you knew he didn’t believe your act for a second. Instead of bringing that up, he handed it back to you, “come on, Y/N, everyone knows you like him by now.” He said nonchalantly, his hands resting by his sides. Everyone? Your eyes opened wide with shock, so he elaborated, “everyone but him.” That notion didn’t exactly calm you, but you let out a relieved sigh.

“Was it that obvious?” You asked, rubbing the back of your neck. There wasn’t any point in trying to hide it from him, he already know.

Tsukishima nodded and you could only laugh weakly.

“I thought I was being really casual about it.” That was a lie, but you had to play it off. Maybe he wouldn’t realise your lie.

“You can’t even speak around him and you think that’s casual?” His tone was mocking - he did have a point - but that didn’t mean you had to like it. “What do you even like about him? You don’t know him.” You flinched back and brought both your hands close to your chest, a little worried by his sudden change in tone. “Or are you just using him like every other girl is? Because if you just like me the-”

“Fuck no!” You cried out. Now it was his turn to be shocked, especially when you glared up at him. “Look, you’re a great guy. But you aren’t Yamaguchi.” Okay, so what do you say next? “I- I don’t know when I started liking him, but I know it hit me full force when I realised it.” That much was obvious. “He makes me so happy and excited that I feel ridiculous, and then I can’t even speak.” Yes, we know. “He’s just so amazing! And funny. And cute. Like, I swear, I could probably just look at him all day. He's really pretty.” And now it’s creepy, calm down, Y/N. “And it sucks! That girls do that to him, but I’m not like them. If they want to talk to you, they should just be confident and do it, not use him for that, it isn’t fair!” He smirked down at you - little does he know, you see the irony in that statement. “I like him. I like Yamaguchi Tadashi. Is that what you wanted to hear?” It felt so nice to finally be able to say it. Like it was a step closer to actually being able to tell him.

Your heart was pounding, but not from nerves, it was from the passion. Because this meant so much to you. Maybe one day you could tell him to your face.

“I mean,” Tsukishima shrugged and looked off to the side, “I don’t really care about all that, especially since I’m not the person you should be telling.” You followed his gaze and locked eyes with the green haired boy. Had he heard that? What were you kidding, of course he’d heard that, but it really is now or never.

Yamaguchi stepped closer and head spread throughout your body. For a moment, it felt like it was only you and him, like the rest of the world was gone. He never broke your gaze, that uncharacteristic confidence was doing wonders - or maybe it was the adrenaline.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned to face him. “I-” you froze, everything suddenly felt too much. But you have to do this. You can’t turn back now, not when he’s looking at you like he might just break if he doesn’t hear it again. “I like you.” You shoved the letter towards him, knowing he’s read it, but words on a page mean nothing against the words from your mouth. “And not just as friends, I like you the way a girl likes a boy.”

The weight from your shoulders disappears as he smiles softly. “Oh thank God, I thought you were scared of me.”

“Why?” You asked, twiddling your fingers together to calm your nerves.

“Because you couldn’t look or speak to me, and you kept running away.” He laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. Of course he’d thought that, it was obvious now. So the whole world could really see how madly you’d fallen for the pinch server - the whole world, except for him.

It takes some time - because everything takes you time - but you’re eventually able to function almost completely normally around him. You rarely get nervous, but the day he figured out how to get you flustered had been your own personal downfall; he’d laugh and say he loved it; you’d laugh and say you’d get revenge. The only time you managed to get that revenge had been at your wedding, when you used the letter to him as your vow.

----

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[jojosbizarreblog]

Hi! I don't know if you're taking requests, but if you are, I was wondering if I could get a small scenario set during part 4, where the Reader was a crusader and Jotaro needs her to help to catch Kira. But the reader herself is done with stands and all that jazz so she flat out refuses (and of course she ends up getting convinced to help!). Sorry if this is too specific... I like to go into detail with my requests ❤️

(Don’t apologize! It actually helps me out a lot when it goes in depth like this, so thank you! Hope you like it!)

(P. S. Zinnia flowers have a purpose in the title, trust me)

(P. P. S. It’s long. It’s angsty. Buckle up)

Zinnia Blossoms in Full Bloom (Jotaro x reader)

You opened up a little shop to get away from your past. Unfortunately it comes back to you through the visit of an old friend.

Opening the little flower shop outside of Morioh was arguably one of the best things that you’ve done. It was good to leave the old things behind, leaving behind the oozing monsters that threatened to drag you down and envelop you whole. Of course, you still kept in contact with some of your remaining friends, but it was difficult with them all over the globe. 

‘Fire Cherry Flowers’ was the name of the little shop, in honor of the ones who have passed. It was your way of remembering their life while you tried to forget the pain that came with their memories. Business was slow when you first opened but eventually, the shop gained popularity, and now you had no trouble keeping yourself busy.

You were getting ready to close up shop for the day, cleaning up the fallen flowers on the ground behind the counter, when the bell to the shop rang behind you. “In a moment!” You called. Straightening up, you started turning to the person. “I’m about to close up for the day, but what do you nee—” You froze as your eyes made contact with familiar ocean blue ones. 

“(Y/n),” Jotaro said. He still looked as handsome as ever, decked out in a long white coat and matching pants, almost like what he wore ten years ago. You couldn’t help but remember all those nights spent with the others, long lost memories.

You swallowed thickly. “Jotaro. What brings you here?”

“I need your help.”

“How about we sit down for some tea,” you said. “I’m closing up the shop, so we can sit in the backroom and you can tell me what’s going on.” You two parted on good terms all those years ago. He left Morioh to pursue his dreams of becoming a marine biologist while you stayed near to apprentice under a skilled gardener, learning about the nuances of plants.

He nodded and hovered in a corner of the shop as you bustled around, locking doors and turning off lights. You beckoned him to your back room, where a little stove accompanied by a table and chairs occupied the area. Tea was made in a few short minutes and you sat down across from him, setting down two cups.

“What brings you here?” You asked him, nursing the warm cup between your hands.

Jotaro sighed and took a sip of his tea. “There have been murder cases popping up around Morioh lately.”

You nodded. “That’s right... I overheard it in the news. What has that got to do with you needing my help anyway?”

“We believe it’s the work of a Stand user.”

Frowning, you told him, “Jotaro, you can’t be serious. I told you guys that I’m done with all that Stand business.”

“I know. I’m working with a few others, but it’s better to have more seasoned people to help us with this.”

You slammed the cup down, face shadowed by your hair. “I can’t! Stands have caused me nothing but pain! I’m done with that Jotaro, that life is over for me.”

“Please,” Jotaro said. “I’m begging you, (y/n). I know it hurts, I feel it too. I spend nights remembering their deaths, it hurts so damn much.”

You paused as a lone tear trickled down his face. Jotaro never talked about his feelings and showed them even less. Even when they were close to bursting. He must’ve really been desperate. You sighed and blinked away your own tears. “Let me think about it,” you said, even though you knew what your answer was. Scribbling down your address, you handed it to him and said, “Come back tomorrow.”

Jotaro nodded and set the teacup down. You stood there alone in the backroom as he left. The chime of the bell was the only thing heard before the silence overtook your shop.

Well, time to get ready for tomorrow. Who knew what laid ahead.

The car rumbled as you stared out the windows at the familiar sights that passed you. Buildings that were still so similar despite the ten-year difference.

The old cream parlor. Whose maraschino cherries were something Noriaki often gushed about

That ramen shop that had great sushi. Something Avdol would’ve loved. Perhaps even Iggy too.

Next to you, Jotaro was focused on the road. You couldn’t help but scan his features over. Soft dark hair, a sharp jawline, striking aquamarine eyes. Perhaps Noriaki was right when he told you that you had a crush on Jotaro. You’d thought the feelings would have been gone by now, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, you supposed.

His phone rang, somewhere in his coat’s pocket, and Jotaro fumbled to take it out and answer it. “Dr. Kujo speaking,” he said. You watched as Jotaro shrank back from the multiple loud voices screeching over the speaker. “Yare yare daze, I leave you three alone for one moment, and trouble’s already found you. I’m only a few minutes away so try not to burn down my hotel room.”

Jotaro sighed as he hung up, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. You raise an inquisitive eyebrow at him. “People you working with?” You asked.

“You could say that. I’m more of a babysitter for them though.”

You shook your head. What the hell did you get dragged into now?

The car rolled to a stop in front of a hotel. “We’re here, let’s go.”

You grabbed your bag and followed Jotaro as he briskly walked through the lobby and up the stairs, questions in your head. What sort of people was Jotaro working with? Detectives? Criminal investigators?

Your expectations were quickly dashed when he opened the door to three teenagers. Two of them were sporting pompadours, though one had quite a sizable one. Both were screaming their heads off, trying to yank a jar off of the one with a smaller pompadour. The last one, who was comically short, was sitting in the hotel’s armchair, watching the chaos in front of him.

None of them heard you two enter, too stuck up in their troubles. They didn’t notice the dangerous aura Jotaro was giving off either. You looked at him and said, “Are you shitting me? Jotaro are these who you’re working with????”

The screaming stopped and all eyes zoned in on you. The previously screaming teens straightened up, hiding the jar behind their back. Jotaro gave a long-suffering sigh as he shut the door behind you two.

“Jotaro!” The one with the larger pompadour beamed. “Who’s this?”

“This is (y/n) (l/n). She’s a friend of mine and a former Crusader.”

You nodded at them. The shortest one stood up and walked to you, sticking out his hand. “My name is Koichi Hirose, nice to meet you.”

Taking his hand in yours you gave him a smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

The larger pompadour wearing teen pushed Koichi aside, grinning at you. “I’m Josuke Higashitaka, Jotaro’s uncle! That’s my friend Okuyasu Nijimura!”

You blanked. He looked seventeen at the oldest. How did he end up being Jotaro’s uncle? You squinted at him and then Jotaro, trying to pick out any similarities. “What the fuck happened when I was out?” You asked Jotaro.

“Joseph got busy,” was his reply.

Sighing you turned back to the teen and nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Josuke.”

Josuke brightened. “You said you were a former Crusader, right??? What was it like, traveling across Egypt???”

Oh god.

Nights under stars. Making fun of each other. Two limp objects and a canid body in Polnareff’s arms. A crumpled water tower.

You forced a smile to hide the inky blackness seeping through your heart. “It was hell and high heaven at the same time.”

Josuke frowned at the cryptic phrase but was stopped from asking any more questions when something shattered and Okuyasu screamed. You winced at the volume and wondered how Jotaro managed to work with them.

“Crazy Diamond!” Josuke yelled. A being appeared and you blanked.

His Stand...

Oh god oh god oh god.

You flinched as Jotaro’s hand came to rest upon your shoulder. He turned your attention away from whatever was happening with the teens. “Will you be alright?”

Swallowing thickly, you replied, “There’s... going to be some adjustments needed.”

He sighed a straightened up, walking to the now quieter teens and ushering them out the door. “Come back tomorrow,” he barked. “We’ll work on some more stuff next time.”

The door shut with a resounding slam, leaving peace and silence at last. You found yourself drawn to the balcony overlooking Morioh. Jotaro’s presence settled next to you and you two stared at the little town below.

“Josuke’s Stand...” you began tentatively.

From the corner of your vision, you could see Jotaro give a shart nod. “I know. I promise that it’s different from his.”

You nodded stiffly. “Alright.”

“Hey... do you want to go to that ice cream parlor we passed?”

Your heart clenched at the unexpected question. “The one that Noriaki swore up and down had the best maraschino cherries?”

There was the barest hint of a smile in Jotaro’s reply. “Yeah... we did promise to try it out when we got back. Never got around to it.”

“I’m in,” you agreed. “We do need to fulfill our promise after all.”

“Alright. We’ll head over there tomorrow, then we’ll get to work on the case.”

That was it for the conversation between you two as a breeze passed over the quiet bubble that had set in.

In that quiet, you couldn’t help but reminisce about those long gone.

[Zinnia is a symbol of endurance. It also symbolizes lasting friendships, goodness, and remembrance.]

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Four

Words: 4K

Warning(s): Drug abuse (Overdose), explicit language, suicide attempt

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Duff and I move like the speed of lightening, him getting his pants on and me just putting my panties on and his t-shirt that got pulled off, before we rush next door with Steven, seeing people scrambling out the door, into connected suites, flushing drugs, all while Sally and Slash are working on waking him up, smacking at his face, to no avail. 

"Wh-What happened?!" I ask them. 

"Someone fucking shot him up and he fell out." She states.

"Who?" I ask and she sighs. 

"Vivian, we really don't have time for questions, help me get him to the bath." She says just as I'm looking over her shoulder where we're crouched over Nikki, to see Sparkie, shock on his face. 

We make eye contact and I just know he did this. 

"Vivian!" She snaps and I'm back to reality, helping them to drag him to the bathroom all while Sparkie takes the opportunity to get out of dodge. 

Suddenly Slash starts crying hysterically, clearly drunk and under the influence of many different substances. 

"Slash, calm down." Sally assures him as we get some cold water on Nikki's body, Duff and Steven still slapping at his face. 

"Damn it, Nikki." Duff mumbles, trying to keep himself calm. 

"Slash," Sally repeats as he starts getting louder and louder to the point it's hard to focus on the issue at hand. 

She stands and goes to the bathroom door, and Slash stops crying in a second. 

"I'm sorry to knock him out but the last thing we need is to get hysterical over this, we can get him back if we try hard enough." She assures us. 

After another minute and nothing's changing, I get uneasy. 

"The ambulance is on the way." I hear someone say over the noise of the running water and the blood throbbing in my ears from my mind racing.  

My heart feels like it's about to burst, my lungs feel flat, like they don't have the muscle to expand and let me catch my breath.  

Duff's t-shirt that I'm wearing is soaked with freezing cold water, Nikki's grayish-yellow skin now blue…  

Steven tries to knock him awake with his cast--from an injury he'd gotten earlier this week--before me, Sally, Duff and him get Nikki from the cold shower and get him back in the living room floor, tearing at his shirt and the buttons fly off.  

"Holy shit." Steven says just under his breath as I go to start cpr but I'm stopping when my hands hit something like ice. 

I quickly see what it is and I nearly fall back.  

It's my crucifix that I thought I had lost when I left it in Duff's hotel room a couple months ago…

"He knows." I say it with a panic in my voice, beginning to hyperventilate. "Duff, he knows." 

Duff looks at me, confused and frantic before he eyes the crucifix and if he had time to think about it, he would. 

"Viv, just stay calm." Steven tells me as Sally starts pumping on Nikki's chest. 

"C'mon, Nikki," She pleads by the fourth round. 

Nothing. 

"C'mon, I'm getting tired." She states and Duff takes over while Steven waits by his head for any sign of life. 

"Nikki, I swear to God if you die," I threaten him, running my hands through my hair, tears streaming down my face as I look at the smidge of blood on his forehead from where Steven tried to wake him up. 

"Let me try," I sniffle as Duff continues chest compressions and in between rounds of compressions, I try mouth to mouth resuscitation. 

The more time that passes, the deader he looks. 

"He's not waking up," I tell them, my adrenaline starting to wear off a little. "Nikki's not waking up, what else do we do?" I refuse to give up, looking to them for plan B. 

"Shhit." Steven sighs out, sorrow in his quiet voice as he starts to pace. 

It's very evident they don't have a plan B as ambulance sirens wail in the distance, coming closer and closer at the speed of light. 

"We let the paramedics try to bring him back." Sally says, continuing CPR, and the thought paralyzes me. "And if they can't then…" 

She doesn't finish, as if not wanting to entertain the possibility of Nikki dying tonight. 

Within the next minutes, medics are all but busting the door down with a gurney. 

Duff pulls me out of the way and I await them to start CPR, or pull out a magical pill that they shove down his throat and he magically comes back to life. 

They check his pulse while listening to his heart with a stethoscope, and look at each other. 

"Call it." The first one sighs out and my reality is beaten into me with a two ton hammer. 

My body and mind disconnect, my heart wrenching in my chest as my soul screams out through my throat, struggling to get away from Duff, as I plead, "Nikki, don't leave me!" 

"This is Nikki Sixx, he's not dying on my watch!" The other medic snaps to the first one over my cries. "Grab some adrenaline!" 

"Nikki, I love you, I love you, please don't leave me!" I shriek, my throat raw as I claw against Duff, trying to get away so I can go to him. 

"He's been out for too lon--"

"He's not dying tonight!" He barks over him and reaches for their bag, uncapping a long needle and plunging it into Nikki's heart. 

Nothing happens. 

What my new normal is about to look like flashes through my mind and I can't bear to even imagine what living in a world without him would be like. 

"Vivian!" Duff screams as he, Steven and Sally scramble to pull me away from the balcony railing overlooking a thirty foot drop as I keep a white knuckled grip on the steel railing, trying to pull myself away from them. 

"Let me go with him!" I scream at them, trying to kick them away from me. 

Paramedic number one sedated me while paramedic number two shot another dose of adrenaline into Nikki's heart...he came back to life while I was subconsciously praying I'd lose mine.

When I wake up, my head's groggy, my heart hurts, and my body just feels heavy. 

I'm in a hospital bed, confused for a moment, until it all comes back to me in a sudden, thundering moment. 

Tears come to my eyes, panic kickstarting the pounding of my heart as I try to sit up. 

"Hey, hey," I hear my dad say, getting up from the chair next to the bed to see me, and I look at him, confused. "They called me a few hours ago he explains." And I nod, my lip shaking as tears steadily roll down my cheeks. 

"Is he…" I can't finish my question, scared of the answer. 

"They got him back." My dad assures me with a nod and relief floods my body. 

"Oh, God," I close my eyes and my dad hugs me tightly, my face buried in his shoulder. "Oh, God, thank you." I acknowledge God for the first time in a while, my heart tensing at the sorrow I was so close to facing in a reality where Nikki was dead. 

"I'll go tell the nurse you're awake, they wanted to ask you some questions." He tells me after a moment and I nod. 

He kisses my forehead and gives a reassuring smile before stepping into the hall. 

I wipe my eyes and a doctor is stepping in behind my dad in a matter of moments.

He asks me questions about whether or not I've been suicidal in the past, if I'm still taking my antidepressant...I just say, "I've never tried to kill myself, I've never thought about it" and "No, I'm not on Nardil anymore, it made me worse." 

He decides my attempt at hurting myself was a spur of the moment panic, not a contemplated plan come to fruition at unlikely timing, and with a referral to a new Psychiatrist, they let me out of the psych wing of the hospital. 

Steven, Slash, and Duff are waiting in the waiting room of the E.R., and when we get down there, Duff sees me and stands up, stepping to me slowly before quickening his pace, wrapping me in a vice grip of his arms when he gets to me...I feel a few of his tears against my temple as he holds me. 

When we pull away, I look at my dad, and he looks away from me for a moment, eyes on the floor, brows furrowing slightly…

"I'm just gonna go home with my dad for a few hours." I tell Duff quietly, wiping my tears and he does the same, nodding. 

I give his hand a squeeze before stepping to Steven and Slash, who're both standing hesitantly...guilty expressions on their faces. 

"We're sorry for scorin--" I shut Steven up, hugging him to me and he squeezes me. 

"You could've ran like everyone else but you didn't." I point out, my voice hoarse from screaming during the night. "He probably wouldn't be here without you caring in the first place, so thank you." I add, looking at him, his tired eyes. I don't think he's slept at all. 

I hug Slash next, feeling sorry for him since he and Nikki are like brothers at this point. 

"They said he should be alright." He tells me. 

"Dad told me." I reply. 

"It used to happen to me all the time." He says next. "I just didn't think it'd happen to him like that." He adds. "That bad, I mean." 

"He's sick, Slash." I repeat Duff's words, finally accepting the fact that Nikki really is sick. "He's just sick." 

I finish saying bye and me and dad make our way to his car, and he fumbles in his pocket for the keys, getting it unlocked and I get in, staring at the windshield. 

Dad gets in next and shuts the door, completely silent. 

"It's been happening since September." I tell him, lowly, and something tells me he knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Me and Nikki separated after the Vanity thing happened in July and Duff and I started seeing each other in September." 

"Does he know?" He asks and I sigh. 

"I didn't think he did, until last night." I reply, feeling ashamed, sniffling.

"Can I tell you something I haven't told anybody before because your mother swore me to FBI level confidentiality?" He asks and I nod as he hands me a paper towel from his pocket. 

"Your aunt Lily didn't get into heroin from her boyfriend she was head over heels for, they did it together, but he's not the one that introduced her to it." He admits and I furrow my brows. "Your mother was on methadone for part of her pregnancy with you." 

"What?" I nearly snap out, shock shuttering everything I've been taught my whole life. 

"She got untangled from that web by the time you were born because she wanted to be better for you, and that's why she's always been so hard on trying to have you make the right choices, she just didn't want you to end up like her, and when Lily kept struggling with drugs over the years, she felt like it was her fault because Lily grew up knowing Charlette was on it and she felt like she was the one who brought her baby sister into all of it--even though your mother was clean years before Lily even touched it. Then you and Nikki getting engaged, she just…" he trails off, sighing. "...I don't know, she just has her own demons she fights with, still, I guess. But she does love you, Vivian. And everything she's done has been to try to protect you from making the same mistake she did--even if it wasn't worth the emotional turmoil you went through, and there's no excuse for it. And I know I didn't protect you as much as I could have from her, as much as I should have, I was just used to being with her for so long...I took things with a grain of salt, and I wasn't thinking that you were too young to understand that you just needed to do that with her sometimes. Even now, when she drives me up the damn wall, I still find some good in it, because I remember that it can be so, so much worse. She was so much worse at one point." He informs me. "My point is, don't be so hard on yourself. You had an affair--God doesn't hate you for it, you're not a bad person or a sorry excuse of a woman or any less of a Christian. You're human. God is well aware we are all human and don't make the best choices sometimes. And given that I've been you before, married to what seems like somebody you love one day and then the devil the next, I can see why you wanted something that wasn't weighed down with the burden of a goddamn demon like heroin." He adds and I try to blink back more tears. "So the question is, now what?" 

"I don't know if I still want a divorce." I confess, rubbing my lips together. 

"You think?" He asks, a little smile on his face. "You tried to throw yourself from a two story balcony so you wouldn't get left by your momentarily dead husband, and you think you don't want a divorce anymore?"

I find myself chuckling at his point, wiping my tears again. 

"I just want to get him back, Dad. The old him, because I feel like I've been married to a stranger."

"I think you need to go get help for yourself before you start trying to help him, though." He tells me next, reassuringly patting the crown of my hair. 

"Okay." I nod and he reaches over and hugs me, kissing my hair before pulling back, cranking the car, sniffling. 

"Alright, now, you're getting me teary eyed, you gotta stop that." He tells me and I laugh, just as a radio announcer states, "Last night, rock n roll bassist, Nikki Sixx, died of a heroin overdose at the Frankli--" my dad quickly cuts it off.

"I just wanna go home." I mumble.

"Alright." He replies, putting the car in reverse. 

"I mean home-home, Dad." I clarify and he looks at me. 

Mom was off at the women's Christmas dinner for church, so it was a perfect opportunity for Dad to have mercy on me and bring me back to the house I grew up in--that I hadn't step foot in for six years.

"You still haven't painted over that?" My finger traces over the measurements notched into the doorway of our living room. 

"Your mom wants me to, but I'm not." He replies, putting his keys on the counter. 

"Your mom won't be back for a few more hours. Why don't you go get some sleep that you haven't been induced into?" He suggests and I nod. 

I step into my old room, nothing's been touched. 

Dust has settled over old books, my desk, picture frames I didn't take with me...my bed is still unmade, exactly how I left it. 

I get on the mattress, laying my head on the pillow, smelling the perfume I used to wear in high school.

I turn over and stare at my window, remembering all the times Nikki's climbed in to see me, and helped me down when I was sneaking out. 

All the times Tommy would toss forbidden records up here for me to listen to when my mom wasn't here and the times my dad would help me out and hide them in his own stash of Charlette-band music. 

I miss being a teenager. 

I chew on the inside of my lip and look up at the ceiling, closing my eyes for a second. 

I end up falling asleep, waking up to a single knock before the door opens. 

The figure in the doorway is tall and lanky and at first I think it's Duff until I realize it's a brunette, his hair longer and more curly than Duff's. 

"Hey," Tommy lowly starts, and I hear Heather downstairs laughing with my Dad. 

"Hey," I sit up and he sits down on the bed next to me.

"So, I heard about Sixx." He tells me, slightly awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Everybody's heard about him." I mumble. 

"...I heard about you, too." He adds and I look at him. "I talked to Steven and Slash." 

"I'm fine, Tom--" 

"--Fucking knock it off, Vivian, damn it." He sighs out, standing back up, rubbing his face. "You're not fine. If you were fine you wouldn't have tried to do that." 

"I'm depressed, Tommy, I think everyone freaking knows I'm depressed, and I've been depressed for years now, I'm not suicidal but I'm not the most mentally stable at the moment and I panicked in a stressful situation and did something without giving it a second thought." I argue, my voice shaking. 

"Well, why not? Why not give it a second thought or something? You're not even together anymore." 

"Because it's him, Tommy, that's why." 

"You're not even together anymore, Viv--"

"--He's been all I've known for the past six years, Tommy, you can't expect six years of everything together to go away just because he fucked up." 

"What about us, huh? Me and Vince and Tansy? We've been friends for years. You and me have been friends for nearly twenty years, Viv, and you were about to make all of  it go away just because he fucked up." His voice cracks and I breathe out, my eyes watering as a result of him forcing back tears, rubbing his eyes. 

He plops back on the bed, and buries his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees. 

"I knew this would happen." He tells me next, sniffling. "I knew this would happen, and that's why I didn't want him going anywhere near you because I knew somehow, someway, he'd fuck you up, and he has. And I have, too, because I fucking let him." He adds, exhaling. "I know you don't want to live without him, but I can't live without you. And I know I've done a lot to push you away and I-I've taken his side over your's on a lot of shit but, Viv, you can't just decide to leave me without telling me, without giving me a chance to say 'goodbye,' and you can't…" he trails off, sniffling, quickly rubbing away at his eyes to block his tears from falling. 

I don't say anything, because I don't know what to say. 

I just wrap my arms around him, my cheek against his shoulder, my eyes closing as he starts crying quietly. 

I rarely saw Tommy cry, the last time I'd seen him cry until then was when Razzle died…I don't know if he was crying over Nikki nearly leaving us, or me, but he didn't brush it off. He just sat there for a few minutes and let himself actually feel stuff. No drugs. No alcohol. Just actually allowing himself to process.

The next morning I wake up in Tommy and Heather's spare bedroom, Heather on one side, Sharise and Skylar on the other…all of them curled up with me. 

It's heart warming knowing that I've managed to wrangle in some good, stable women into my life along the past several years. Making up for lost time with my mom and my aunt, I guess. 

I think back to what my dad told me yesterday about my mom. 

Who the hell would have ever thought that my mother would be into something like heroin at one point? 

Despite not being able to forgive her quite yet for everything she put me through, I know my dad was right: she was just trying to keep me in line so I wouldn't make the same mistakes she made. 

No wonder she lost her shit when me and Nikki went public with our relationship. All she could see was me losing myself in the money and access and swimming in melted black tar and China white. 

I scoot to the foot of the bed, careful not to wake the girls and I go to the hallway and grab their phone. 

"Hey, it's Nikki. I'm not here because I'm dead." Our answering machine beeps and I hang up, feeling a hole in my soul. 

At least he made it home alright, I tell myself, tired of crying. 

I hang up the phone and go to the kitchen to make some coffee, stopping by the counter to see "VIVIAN" written in big, black marker on a large manilla envelope. 

I furrow my brows and open the prongs, pulling the papers out. 

The top is labeled, "California Judiciary." 

[yikesharringrove]

here’s a prompt! what about steve and billy having arranged marriage by their fathers (for the sake of their businesses etc). billy is known to be this playboy, always fucking some guys and steve has heard of him ( andlets say he doesn’t really like him,) but when they meet for the first time, they really hit it off. steve’s so blown away how hot and charming billy is and they would end up fucking in the end..? 🔥

Smut at the end.

-

Steve and his parents had met with Mr. Hargrove eight times over the past two months.

His parents had done the same, having scheduled meetings with Billy and his father, hammering out details, making arrangements, making a deal.

And Steve was going to meet Billy tonight.

At an awkward scheduled dinner with their parents.

He had asked around about Billy when his father came home and told him they would be marrying him off, and, well, Steve wasn’t impressed.

The guy was kind of a slut, known to fuck whoever he wants, whenever he wants. Always had designer drugs and wasn’t afraid to sell or share.

And look, Steve can overlook a lot. But apparently, he was also a major asshole with rage issues and a strong right hook.

And Steve was gonna be married to him.

He knew it was only for money, only because his dad didn’t think Steve was fit to take over his company, so he found someone who could, some guy with a business degree from a good college and an asshole dad that’ll shell out for a marriage to some prestigious family. 

Steve watched glumly as the maids set the dining room table. They had brought out the good china, the shit from his parents own arranged marriage.

The silver had been shined, and a team of professional chefs were busy in the kitchen, making a roast.

A fucking roast.

If tonight goes well, he and Billy will move in together, and be married in six months.

That’s how it always goes with arrangements.

“Buck up, Darling.” Steve looked up at Tess, the sweet women his mother had originally hired as a nanny for him, had kept on as a maid when Steve cried for three days after she was let go. She had helped him pack up his room yesterday, on the off chance he moves in with Billy. “There are worse things than marrying a nice young man.”

“I don’t think he is a nice man. Everything I’ve heard about him says he’s not.”

“Baby, your daddy wouldn’t let you marry some asshole.”

“My dad doesn’t give a fuck about what happens to me. He just wants someone to take over the company.” Steve was scuffing his foot along the soft carpet.

Tess came to sit next to him.

“Baby, you’ll be alright. If he’s a dick, come get me and I’ll smuggle you outta the city.” She mussed his hair as she stood back up. Made him smile.

“Steven, I’ve laid out your best suit. The Hargroves will be here in a few hours. I want you showered and dressed and ready by six.” His mother was standing on the stairs, already had a martini in her hand.

It was easier not to argue.

He took a long shower, sat at the bottom of the tub, letting the hot water beat on his back.

He took his time getting dressed, found himself back downstairs at 6:15.

His mother just rolled her eyes, directing the set up of the food and drinks.

He stood there, didn’t wanna wrinkle his suit.

And then, at exactly half past six, he heard a car engine rumble outside. His parents stood on either side of him, ready to greet their guests.

Steve put on his best face, eyes nice and bright, smile easy and charming.

He shook Neil’s hand, tried not to squirm under his cold stare. And then he met Billy.

And Jesus Christ was he fucking hot.

He was well built, muscular and broad. Just thick in all the best was. His eyes were as blue as Neil’s, but they were warm, a nice blue. He kept his blond hair well trimmed, shorter on the sides, but still longer on top, enough to keep his curls defined.

And his smile. His bright white teeth, and soft lips, and that tongue.

He traced it as Billy licked over his bottom lip, wanted in his mouth, or maybe even in his-

“So nice to finally meet you.” His voice was gruff, velvety, nice.

“You as well.” Steve’s mother looked delighted as they shook hands, Steve flushing when Billy took Steve’s hand in both of his.

Dinner went surprisingly well.

Billy was kind, said all the right things, smiled and laughed in all the right ways. He was a perfect gentlemen, and Steve wanted.

And before they knew it, Billy was sent upstairs to help Steve with his things, waiting for the car that would take them to their apartment in the city. Steve wonders if his fucking dowry was spent on it.

“Hey, uh, I really do like you. Just so you know. Wasn’t puttin’ on much of a show down there.” Billy’s eyes were light.

“Um, thank you. I like you too.” Billy smiled back at him, fumbling in his pocket.

“So, I, I know your parents will probably pick a ring, or whatever, but I brought, on the off chance you didn’t suck, I brought this.” It was a silver band, three small diamonds set into it. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. It was my mom’s. Always kinda pictured proposing with it.”

“Sorry to fuck up your plans.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“You’re not fucking up a damn thing.” Billy took a breath, getting on one knee. “Figured I’d do it right. So that if everything goes well, if I don’t do something to fuck this up, we can have this memory. Just you and me, and a borderline real proposal.” Steve laughed. He knew he didn’t have much choice in the matter, but his heart still fluttered a bit. “Steve Harrington, will you marry me?”

“Yes, Billy Hargrove. I will marry you.”

And Billy kissed him. Kissed him like they were in love, not like this is the first night they’ve ever met, not like they’re near perfect strangers.

-

Tess had been the only one to walk with them out to the car.

She hugged Steve tightly, whispering to him that if this one gets smart, you know where to find me. I’ve got a baseball bat with his name on it.

The car ride was quiet, the two men sitting in the back seat.

“The apartment has two bedrooms. We don’t have to sleep together, or anything. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Steve smiled at Billy.

“That’s up to you. I’m open to anything.” Billy grinned at him, licking over his teeth in a way that made Steve’s cheeks go warm.

“Famous last words, Pretty Boy.”

“Oh, come on. I’m not some blushing virgin. I’ve been around the block a few times.” Billy’s grin went even wider.

“Not savin’ it for our wedding night?” Steve leaned closer to Billy, reached out to adjust his tie, glancing demurely at him.

“Well, Darling. We just got engaged. I think that’s cause for celebration, don’t you?”

-

Billy was on him the second they stepped into the fully furnished apartment.

He pressed Steve against the door, kissing him deeply.

The kiss was nothing like Steve’s bedroom, is was rough, and dirty, and it made Steve fucking hard.

And then Billy lifted him up, and fucking carried him to the nearest bedroom.

And Steve just about came in his pants.

He pawed at Billy’s jacket, throwing off his tie, ripping open the buttons on Billy’s shirt, scattering them everywhere.

“A little hasty, are we?”

“A little horny, more like.” He was staring at Billy’s torso, his defined muscle, his golden skin.

He licked all over, planting sloppy, open mouthed kisses anywhere he could reach. Billy had stripped him over his jacket and tie, working on the buttons of his shirt as Steve slobbered all over his body.

“Jesus, knew I wanted to fuck you the minute I walked in that fuckin’ house. Wanted those long legs around my fucking head while I eat your ass.” Steve stuttered a moan, staring up at Billy.

“Then do it.” Billy shoved him back on the bed, roughly taking off his pants, dragging his underwear with them.

He took Steve’s thighs, forcing them open. Billy shoved him up the bed, climbing up between his legs. He flopped onto his stomach, and spat on Steve’s hole.

Steve choked when he began licking him, flattening his tongue against Steve, pressing against his hole.

Steve reached down, holding onto Billy’s hair with one hand, slowly stroking his cock with the other.

“Fuck, Billy. You better do this once a fucking week when we’re married.” Billy detached himself with an obscene fucking noise, smirking up at Steve.

“Yeah, Pretty Boy? That my keep I gotta earn?” He went back in, licking around Steve’s rim. He let go of Steve’s thighs, putting his hands under his hips, getting a better angle.

He pushed his tongue inside, made Steve jerk, his thighs closing around his head. Steve started when Billy pushed his tongue in as far as it could go, arched his back up, holding Billy right where he wanted him with his hand and thighs, still jerking himself off.

Billy was working his mouth, using his lips and tongue, and his fucking teeth, doing shit Steve had never felt before.

“Shit, I’m gonna, I’m gonna-” Billy shoved his legs open, grabbing his wrist to stop his jerking. Steve whined, pouting up at him. “I was gonna cum.”

“I know. That’s why I stopped it.” Steve whined again. Billy smirked at him, moving up his body to kiss each of his cheeks. “Want you to cum on my cock.”

“You got lube?” Billy was kissing his jaw, trailing down his neck.

“In one ‘a my bags.”

“Condoms? Not that I don’t trust where your dick’s been, but I don’t trust where your dick’s been.” Billy huffed a laugh.

“Yeah, I got condoms.”

“Then go get ‘em.”

“Damn, bossy.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“So, do you not wanna fuck me tonight? ‘Cause this place has two bedrooms-” Billy groaned, rolling off of him.

“Fine, I’m getting the condoms. Cool your fuckin’ jets, man.” He was muttering as he stomped out of the room. Steve laughed at him, sucking on a few of his fingers, fingering himself open with two.

He had his legs spread open, two fingers getting himself prepped. Billy stopped in his tracks in the doorway, watching Steve, his mouth hanging open.

“Holy fuck, you’re so hot.” Steve smirked at him, pressing his fingers up, arching his back as he dug into his prostate.

“Get the fuck over here and fuck me, Billy.”

Billy didn’t waste anytime, dropping his pants and racing to the bed. Steve pulled out his fingers, putting them back in his mouth as Billy rolled on one of the condoms, spreading lube all over himself.

He kneeled between Steve’s legs, manhandling him into his lap. He pulled him down onto his cock. Steve gasped, scrambling for purchase on Billy’s shoulders.

“Jesus, it’s been a minute.” Steve let his head fall onto Billy’s shoulder. “Feel so full.”

“Or maybe I’m just big.” Billy bucked his hips, made Steve gasp. He wrapped his arms around Billy’s shoulders for a better grip, let him set a steady pace, a fucking rough pace.

Every time Billy bucked his hips, every time he shoved his cock deeper, it punched the air outta Steve’s lungs, made him see fucking stars.

“F-faster,” Steve breathed into Billy’s ear, made him pick up the pace, fuck into Steve that much faster, a little bit harder.

His cock was hard between their stomachs, getting friction every time they moved.

“You feel so good. So fucking tight.” Billy was staring up at Steve, holding him tight. “You’re gorgeous.” Heat spread done Steve’s spine.

“I’m close again.”

“You gonna cum on just my cock?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m gonna cum.”

“Lemme see you, Sweet Thing. Gonna look so pretty. Already know.”

Steve was panting, looking down at Billy with dark eyes.

His face screwed up, his body going tight as he came. His hips jerked, and he made all these beautiful breathy noises.

Billy bucked a few more times, biting at Steve’s neck as he came. He took Steve with him as he slumped over, still holding him close.

“You’re different than I was expecting.” Steve brushed his fingers over his cheekbones.

“What were you expecting?” Billy grabbed his hand, kissing his palm.

“I asked around about you. Heard you were kind of a playboy. Bit of an asshole.”

“Used to be.”

“What changed?” Billy sighed, untangling himself from Steve to roll onto his back.

“You.”

“What do you mean?”

“My, uh, my dad was. He was so bad to my mom that she left. When he told me I was getting married I, I didn’t wanna be that. Do that to you. Shaped up.”

“Thank you, then.”

“Nah, thank you. I think I like myself better this way.” Steve smiled at him, leaning forward to kiss his nose.

[calypsoff]

Fifty Seven. Part 3

My ears perked up hearing a voice just behind me, I thought I was dreaming but I heard it again “Rihanna? Robbie!” Mel spat, Robyn moved under my arms slightly “huh” overhearing Robyn say, my eyes firmly closed still knowing full well what it will be about, the hint of sadness in her voice “can I come in? Is it safe?” Mel said from outside the door “erm wait” I am dying to open my eyes, but I won’t, I will pretend to be asleep still. Robyn peeled my arms away from her, feeling the covers being moved “come in” feeling Robyn’ body heat go, she is out of bed naked I am guessing “you both had a nice night I guess” I wish my mind would shut off now, but I know “yeah, we did. Let me get my robe on, what’s wrong?” Robyn asked, opening my eyes a little. Robyn is just butt ass naked in front of Mel, but they been through it together “you been crying?” Robyn asked concerned “can you stay in my bed tonight please” closing my eyes fully knowing full well why “yes, I will. I will just get a tee and some panties; we will talk in the bedroom. It better not be Barry, I will murder him, I been telling you that he’s playing around, I just had a feeling in my heart that he was. His behaviour has been off, meaning that he won’t commit to you” hearing them both walk off “I will wait for you in the bedroom” I feel so bad that she’s crying now; this is terrible “don’t cry, please don’t. It’s hurting my heart that you are” taking in a deep breath, now I am the bad guy, but I am trying to save her heart, I hate myself now. Opening my eyes sighing out, why is she crying like that “Chris, I’m going to stay with Mel tonight” looking behind me in shock, how did she know I was awake “erm ok” a little taken aback “what?” Robyn said half smiling at me “no, just woke up. You know” playing it off, Robyn walked over to me “go to sleep” she kissed my forehead “I took your tee with me, see you in the morning” taking in a deep breath, what a mess this is. The bedroom door closed, and I moved onto my back, I feel so bad about this because I didn’t want him to break it off, but he wouldn’t leave other bitches alone, he spoke about her disrespectfully and on top of that saying about Barbadian women like my wife ain’t Barbadian, she isn’t easy either. I am annoyed, I’m going to have a blunt and then sleep.

I don’t usually smoke a blunt in the bedroom because of Robyn being pregnant, I like to keep that away from her but she’s not here so I can. Staring down at my phone waiting for Barry to answer and he did, picking the phone up and placing it against my ear “so what happened?” I questioned “what you think, because with me Chris I stay out of your relationship do I not?” Is this guy being real “what relationship? That was the whole issue was it not? I wanted you to be faithful, but you think you’re in a open one, she’s crying so what did you say?” I asked “we not all in a perfect situation Chris, if she was Rihanna I would be on my knees too like you are” that was very vindictive to say “I asked you a question” overlooking what he said “that I wasn’t feeling her like that, she’s not my type. Not the type I want” he’s such a bastard “you have lost a great girl, you stupid motherfucker. Your jealousy is coming out bro, I don’t know what your fucking issue is but you’re living the way you do because of me, bitches are fucking you because they can’t fuck me! How is it I assumed TJ would be the dumb one but it’s not, it’s you until you can fucking apologise to me then we will talk, and Barry you got a fucking issue I will come there and beat you pussy, don’t forget that. Go back to selling drugs, you’re out of my business. Use my name again and I will show you” disconnecting the call, he will be back. I know Barry, he’s having a bitch fit now but he will get over it because we have had these arguments before, but this shit is fucked up, he’s really annoyed me with that.

It’s late over here but I thought I would call TJ even though I think he may be asleep; I am sure he said he had his son or whatever. Since he became a father he’s really changed, I feel like Barry is a bad influence on him “yo” he sounds so sleepy “did I wake you?” I’m saying it like I didn’t know this “yeah bro, it’s cool. I think little C is going to wake up for feeding anyways” I chuckled “so you back in VA or Houston?” I am sure VA “VA, stay at my parents when I see him” letting out an oh “you know what, Barry has pissed me off. Now I don’t know your point of view in this, but you know he’s been playing with Mel, and that’s fine. So you know I mentioned to him about making it official, but he just wants fun and have Mel there and fuck other girls, I told him no. And to end it, Mel is a sister to Robyn now she’s crying, and Robyn is there with her, it puts me in a situation because I know what he’s been doing, Barry is making out that I did bad, did I do bad? That I wanted to protect Mel because she’s a nice person” I just need to know what I did was right or wrong “I told him that he’s in a mindset where he wants to be single, but he wasn’t hearing it, he had a full orgy in Vegas. I feel like a virgin just fucking nobody, but I told him to do it. Be single, you’re protecting your family now Chris, that’s your family. I get it” I breathed out, someone that understands “well we fell out and I told him I want nothing to do with him because of how disrespectful he is towards me and my wife in a way, but he has nothing to do with the company. I don’t want to know which leads me onto the business, I’ve literally changed everything with the business which leaves you with nothing to do within it and your bitch baby mother has been harassing me which has upset my wife and I know you got a baby and I want to help you” I feel bad, the phone line went silent like really silent “I understand bro” I feel so bad “you on your path and I am on mines but I can help, I mean if I can help in any way then I will but I just need to pay for my child you know” I hate this “and I can help you but you need to help me, you niggas ain’t been doing, just if Barry calls then let me know, sorry for calling late just needed to speak to you, I am sorry” I apologised “yeah I’ll call you tomorrow” disconnecting the call.

Last night was a long night so to say anyways, Robyn has just come back into the bedroom after being with Mel all that time. She actually woke me “slept well?” Robyn asked, nodding my head as I walked over to the walk in closet “if you put them boxers on the floor that you’re going to take off then I promise you I will scream” she knows me well, pulling down my boxers “the bedroom smells of weed, I thought we both decided to not have weed in the room?” Pulling a face “erm, you said that because you can’t have any weed so yeah” balling up my boxers in my hand, Robyn held her hand out to me “thank you” placing it in her hand “that too but it smelt terrible, can you not do it again. Still smells it now” walking over to my drawer to get a new pair of boxers “ok I won’t” I will but I will just say I won’t “thank you, miss me in bed?” I laughed and I don’t know why but I did laugh, I found it to be amusing “sorry, was that funny?” closing my draw and turning to Robyn “nah, more like did you miss me? What’s wrong with Mel?” I mean I have to ask, “what makes you think anything is wrong huh?” Side eyeing Robyn “just your friend, really upset Mel. Erm, she cried a lot, she liked him. I told you that, but I guess you knew he left her” pulling my boxers up shaking my head “what do you mean? He didn’t mention anything to me” I shrugged it off going to get some sweatpants “I find it hard to believe but your friend has disrespected Mel in many ways, and you will find out soon. I’m not going to argue with you, but I think you know more then you’re letting on” Robyn knows me too well, I hate it here “I will see you downstairs” I cannot let them know that I knew anything.

Sitting down at the dining table “where is Mel? I knocked on her bedroom door” I don’t think she’s there “she needed to be somewhere, why did you go to her room anyways” Robyn is questioning everything I say “erm to ask how she was, I feel like I am to blame because he is my friend you know. Not in a way like that I knew but he is my friend so yeah” Robyn is staring at me so hard “your friend said some harsh things to her, he did this at a restaurant, made her cry and on top of that he walked off. She paid for the bill; how dare he do that. If I catch him I will fucking beat his ass on behalf of her, Mel actually liked him a lot. This is what gets me, things were fine. I am not even going to speak on the rest, but it was nasty, had my friend crying like that. I will probably sleep in the bed with her again, she needs some love. Actually, I am going to ask because it’s playing on my mind” I am really having to do the best poker face right now “did you know? He is your best friend and you both was arguing because Chris if you knew and you let her go like that, he treated her like shit Chris. It’s making me cry, look at me” furrowing my eyebrows “why are you crying? Don’t, I didn’t know. We argued because I told him about the business” I lied, Robyn knows about the business “ok, just wanted to make sure, I am hurting so much” Robyn is really crying, this is a fucking mess, and I am sat here still lying.

Mel came back and I came outside for a blunt, I thought I would give them some space and also TJ called me like he said he would, I still haven’t thought on what to do about him “it’s a mess over here, Robyn is crying that Mel is crying but he really dogged her out, he left and didn’t pay for the food either, just went” shaking my head putting my blunt out “he got balls to be doing that, imagine fucking over Rihanna’ best friend, well sister. He fumbled the bag because she is so nice” even TJ knows she is so kind “exactly so you know what I said last night, I will pay for you until you can get yourself sorted out, I won’t have you on the streets either” I can’t do that to him “about that, look man. I don’t know what I want to do in my life, I really don’t but I don’t want to do drugs because that is the easiest option. I don’t know about Barry but me, I don’t know what to do or start. I really want to stay on with you, work under you. I don’t care but please, just give me a chance” licking my top lip “I don’t have anything for you in Houston or VA TJ, the work is here in Cali and coming here isn’t cheap either. I could suppose have you working with the girls, look I will think on something for you, promise. You my brother, I got you” I have a heart, I can’t just do that to him “I spoke to Seiko, I said you’re fucking up my money and that ain’t cool and she went on a war path about how you left her, she wanted a life with you. You married Rihanna like that, I said you stay out of their business. I don’t think she will do anything” I swallowed hard seeing Robyn waving her finger at me in anger, oh she wants me to come inside “bro, I need to go. I think I am done for out here; I will update you” TJ laughed “talk later” disconnecting the call.

Walking into the living room “I can’t even do this” Mel stormed out of the living room “what did I do? Mel, come on. I am sorry he is a dickhead; I didn’t think he would be like that” my words are failing me, and she is gone “I want Barry here, I want him here Chris I am going to kill him. You know what Chris; you know something I know you do. It’s like me and Mel, I would know if she was doing something off, I know it” shaking my head “you’re assuming things, Robyn. I rather we didn’t get involved in this, this is not our argument is it really? I don’t want that for us” trying to reason with her “your fucking friend gave my friend Chlamydia, now you tell me to not be involved! He has been having sex with other women and then my friend” my face dropped “what?” I said shocked “she went to doctors; she has been feeling off. She’s only had sex with him, and you know how people get Chlamydia she is devastated Chris. That is my sister, and I can’t do anything, so Chris. You have that look on your face” placing my hands on my hips “Christopher” shaking my head “I am not getting involved, I don’t know anything” I feel awful “look, I told him that he should be faithful. I don’t know” I shrugged again, I don’t know what to say “well you’re very loyal Chris because Mel told him and he said ask Chris, he knows. I told him about the Barbadian women, I got to give it to you Chris. You are loyal. So you going to tell me what you know, or you don’t know as you were saying” the words left me, he really put me on the spot like this.

I can’t believe he said that “I was the one to tell him to leave Mel, he didn’t want a relationship he wanted her and others. He has been having sex with various women and using the fact he knows Rihanna, he said he showed a picture of us with him, and it worked. Some girls assumed I would be there but no, they fucked him because I am not there, so he says. He was having sex with women in Vegas, I asked him, and he admitted to not wanting a relationship, he said Mel was easy. Sucked him off on the first day, you know how the Barbadian women do and that is what he meant, I corrected him” I stopped talking as Robyn yelped out “I want to kill him, Chris you should have that same passion! Barbadian women!?” she screamed “you could be having a daughter and she will be Barbadian too, is that her too!? Huh? She is somebody’s daughter Chris! So you knew this but didn’t tell me for what? Seems like your friend is ready to throw you under the bus, look where you are and look where he is. You are married to me Chris, so I come first, he is disrespecting not just my friend but also me, was I easy?” frowning at her saying that “stop ok, you weren’t like that. I am sorry about Mel” Robyn is so angry with me, I think she hates me “I really don’t want to see your face Chris, I am honestly so disappointed with you. Like I am angry but just shocked that you let it slide and let is continue that now my friend has to go through this!? She is so hurt; she doesn’t want to see anyone. She feels disgusting, she isn’t even like that and you let it continue when you could have said to me, she isn’t that type of girl Chris. You’re sick and so is your friend, don’t fucking touch me either” I am going to kill Barry, he actually gave her a sexual disease too.

[angelsunflowers-fanfics]

Richard Simmons x Blue!Female!reader (High school au)

FANDOM: Red vs Blue

REQUEST: My dialogue is number 6. It is a Simmons x Artistic! Blue Army! Kind! Dirty-mouthed! Reader. This is my idea for a city AU for red vs blue, and Simmons is a white boi with maroon everything (Glasses, hoodie, and converse) and he also wear his hair in a short pony-tail. He also wears a maroon baseball cap and carries a maroon phone. He was in love with (Y/N) since High School, and he doesn't really know about her artistic side. Please find the time for this. I have a crush on the maroon soldier.

“We’re sitting in a good court and I can see you staring at me so what’s your fucking deal--wait are you drawing me?”

Linktree

~~~~~

The mall was lit up with dim lights as the afternoon slowly drifted into the evening, many people were still lounging around the shops and food court, taking advantage of the long hours. Richard Simmons and Dexter Grif, a couple of the reds, were talking in the food court. Well, it was more of Simmons talking and Grif eating and listening.

Simmons thought about that Blue all too often, The blues and the reds were rival schools. Grif didn’t see why he had such a fascination with someone that he was only gotten to actually see a few times. Simmons didn’t care much about the rivalry between the schools, he actually liked it. That way he could see (y/n) more often, but now he was out of high school.

“--I just wish I could find a way to talk to her again, It’s been so long. Do you think she would even remember me?” Simmons asked.

Grif rolled his eyes, not knowing why he was here and not literally anywhere else.

“Maybe, you two were both major nerds so It’s a possibility. Well, you still are. I still can’t believe that you never got over your mondo crush on her by now, dude. Her being a blue and all, there were plenty of girls that asked you out, why didn’t you ever say yes?” Grif asked.

Simmons sat back in his seat lightly, taking off his Maroon colored glasses to clean the lenses before he spoke, “(y/n)’s different, she’s not like those girls in school. They just wanted to plagiarize my work or use me to get their significant other jealous. (y/n) talked to me first, I still got really nervous around her, but… She actually enjoyed talking to me.” 

Grif shrugged his shoulders lightly before closing his notebook full of extensive notes, he didn’t need Simmons to know how smart he could actually be just yet.

“Alright, you know what Sarge would say,” Grif said. 

Sarge was the red team’s coach, he was close to the former team. Simmons scoffed at Grif’s mention of Sarge, whom would desperately discourage him from having a huge crush on a ‘dirty Blue’, His words, most definitely not Simmons.

“I don’t care what he’ll say. I didn’t get to see her much though. I almost thought that she would transfer, that would’ve been nice,” Simmons said, reminecing. 

Grif narrowed his eyes lightly, he never saw Simmons talking with (y/n). Not once in all of the 4 years in highschool. Where on Earth did he find the time for that?

“When did you even talk to her? You never had the time to hang out with me, but you supposedly hung out with a Blue?” 

Simmons rolled his eyes, picking up his phone to pretend that he was scrolling through his social media.

“You know, the football games. You and Donut would play, I watched. But one day, I got really bored and just started to wander around and I eventually bumped into (y/n). She asked me for the time and we just started talking,” Simmons answered. 

Grif sat back lightly, that did make sense. High school Simmons and Simmons in the present both got very flustered around girls, especially those he actually liked. Grif had hung around the nerd since the beginning, he could see that plain as day.

[FLASHBACK]

“Hey! Pretty-nerd in Maroon!” 

Simmons glanced around in a fluster, he was definitely not used to receiving any compliments of any variety. He quickly turned around to face a pretty girl in a blue letterman jacket. He already felt his heart beating rapidly from the mere sight of a pretty girl talking to him out of interest.

“U-um, yes?” Simmons nervously answered.

(y/n), the blue, slowly approached Simmons to hear him better and for him to hear her better.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you have the time?” She asked.

With shaky hands, Simmons dug a hand into the pocket of his Maroon jacket to grab his phone to check the time; 8:02 PM. before neatly placing his phone back where it was.

“I-it’s 8.” 

(y/n) gave Simmons a sweet smile before explaining her actions.

“Thanks, sorry I don’t usually call out guys like that but… You seem different. What are you doing at a football game? You don’t seem like the type,” (y/n) explained her outburst. 

Simmons glances over (y/n)’s head for a moment to catch a glimpse of Grif on the field, he didn’t look like he was enjoying the game before catching her eyes again. 

“I’m (y/n), by the way,” She introduced herself. 

Simmons smiled lightly and almost wanted to press a hand against his heart from how hard it was rapidly beating against his chest.

“I-i’m Simmons, but you can call me Richard. I come in to watch my friend, Grif, and Donut,” He said. 

(y/n) cocked her head to the side for a moment.

“Donut?” 

Simmons smiled brighter and lightly led (y/n) to the edge of the bleachers to overlook the game.

“Yeah, you see that guy in the pink?” (y/n) laughed lightly and gave a small nod of her head. “That’s him, he calls it lightish-red.”

“Oh my, Fuck. That’s amazing,” (y/n) giggled. 

Simmons surveyed the blue team, wondering if there was someone that (y/n) was here for.

“What about you? Are you here for your boyfriend or…?” The pleading in Simmons' voice was evident, but over the loud sounds of cheering from the crowd, it wasn’t noticed by (y/n).

“No boyfriend. Um, I’m here for Michael Caboose; that guy charging at everyone head first,” (y/n) gestured to the football field. Simmons glanced to the field again to instantly spot Caboose diving headfirst for the football, it would be hard to miss someone like that. “And Lavernius Tucker, he’s--” 

Simmons couldn’t help himself as he blurted out his immediate thoughts toward that certain blue, “Wait, Tucker? You hang around him? Every time I see him, he’s always flirting with fucking someone or you… Sorry, I just--” 

(y/n) waved her hands in front of her to stop Simmons rambling, the sweet smile still plastered onto her face.

“No, I get it. He has that kind of impression on people. But he can actually be really sweet and a great person once you get past that outer shell… And for the flirting… I don’t know why he does that… But he’s Tucker.”

Simmons’ eyes trailed back down to the jacket that (y/n) was wearing. He was talking to a Blue. A blue! His friends were going to give him so much shit for this, but… somehow he didn’t care. The jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders didn’t look like hers, he couldn’t help but imagine what she would look like in his jacket--

“So, Richard… you’re pretty and definitely different from the blue guys… Would you mind if I gave you my number?” (y/n) asked.

Simmons’ eyes widened before trying to dig through his pockets to grab his phone but ultimately became a fumbling mess.

“Y-yeah, I don’t m-mind.” 

(y/n) bit on her bottom lip to stifle a laugh before lightly grabbing his arm and a pen from her bag.

“Just hold still for a moment.” (y/n) carefully scribbled her phone number under her name on his inner wrist before hesitantly letting go of his arm, letting it hang loosely by his side. “I better go find my way down to the field, the game’s over. I’ll see you later, Richard.”

[FLASHBACK OVER]

“Okay, I believe you. There’s no way you would have been able to talk to her first, you’d get flustered and start stuttering,” Grif said. 

Simmons’ face flared up in embarrassment and only slight annoyance.

“I would not!” His voice cracked slightly. 

He didn’t really yell because of that fact, his voice always reverted back to his pubescent days when he got flustered-angry. Grif stifled his laugh behind his hands, Simmons already proved his point.

“Your voice just cracked. Man, I barely have to try and I’m right.” 

While Simmons tried to calm down his breathing and control the color in his face, Grif looked off to the side as the sound of a pencil furiously rushing across paper gets his attention. Someone was turned toward Simmons, their head tucked behind a sketchbook. Someone was drawing Simmons. 

“Huh, someone is drawing you, Dude.” 

Simmons rolled his eyes but didn’t move a muscle.

“Whatever, this is another stupid test of your right? I’m gonna turn around and then you’re gonna laugh at me, no way,” Simmons said, stubborn as ever. 

Grif glanced at the artist sketching on her paper for a moment before Grif grabbed one of Simmons' notebooks and threw it near the artist’s table. 

“Grif! What the hell?” Simmons yelled.

Grif only shrugged his shoulders lightly, watching in amusement as Simmons slowly stood up to retrieve his journal from the floor. Simmons’ eyes locked onto those of the person drawing him, Grif was right. He shot up to his full size and marched toward the unnamed person. 

“Okay, you’re staring at me, what the fuck’s your prob--wait… are you drawing me?” The artist finally glanced up from their sketchbook to reveal that it was (y/n). “I-I…” The blue only smiled at Simmons.

“Hi, Richy.” 

Grif laughed to himself before grabbing his bag and standing from the table, he could tell that Simmons would want to talk to her alone.

“Nice, I’m gonna head back to the apartment. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Simmons watched Grif leave the mall before turning back to (y/n), ready to question her, “I… I didn’t know you could draw.” 

(y/n) sat up straighter and layed the large sketchbook on the table, revealing that she was drawing him. Simmons slowly sat in the seat across from her, his mind scrambling for a coherent question to ask. 

“I’ve been trying to find you for a while, you kind of disappeared after high school,” Simmons mentioned. 

(y/n) slowly shrugged her shoulders, picking up the sketchbook to finish the drawing.

“Yeah, There were some family emergencies and then my mother wanted me to go into the air force… I’m sorry. I know you came here a lot when we were teenagers so I thought… Maybe you would be here and you are,” (y/n) explained. 

Simmons sat back to look at how grown-up (y/n) looked. He needed to keep the conversation going, he wanted to talk to her until dawn just like all those years ago. It had been so long, what if she was different? Or dating someone? Or married?

“Why did you draw me? Out of everything that’s inspiring, you drew me…” 

(y/n) gestured toward his outfit and items that were laid on the floor near the table next to them.

“You are very color-coordinated, and you’re pretty… and I like you. I’m a bit rusty on sketching, but I wanted to get back into it and I thought you would be the perfect model,” She explained. 

Simmons wrung his hands together in front of him nervously, she said that she liked him. He should say something back, right? Say that he had felt the same since he first met her.

“I, um… I like you too. Since we met sophomore year at that football game. I never knew how to tell you. (y/n), do you… Wanna--” 

(y/n) quickly cut him off by leaning over the table to press a chaste kiss to his forehead.

“Yes.” 

Simmons stare at (y/n) wide-eyed, not expecting her to act on such a bold move. 

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say yet.” 

(y/n) smiled brightly, grabbing one of Simmons' hands and slowly packing up her things in a light blue bag, before standing up, bringing Simmons with her.

“If I’m with you, then I’m positive I’ll enjoy whatever you have planned. Come on, we have a lot to catch up on.”