#also thank you! i feel much like a rat someone fished out of a dumpster to put a little hat on it

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hi! Excuse my anonymity, you’re super cool and I’m super anxious

I’m an artist starting out on tumblr, do you have any advice for getting my work out there to more people?

I understand if you can’t really answer, but you’re one of my favorite Tumblr artists, so i figured I would come here!

Sorry if this caused any inconvenience-

hm... i think my best advice is to be consistent(ish), confident, and to tag accurately!

people tend to respond more to posts where the creator is positive about their own work - in the post body, and in the tags. even if it's something you're not sure you like, Someone will, and they'll be more likely to interact if the work has confidence (fake it till you make it! it) this also does wonders for mental health surrounding your own work - it's been my method for a while and it's not half bad!

with tags, make sure your search tags are within the first 20 (or they won't count) and that they're accurate. people Will get annoyed / report you as spam if you tag, say, a picture of a peach with "grapes" or "will smith". but thorough accurate tagging makes sure your work is in sight of as many people searching for the subject as possible

and another thing that can help is adding on a little "reblogs are appreciated" to the post body (or the first tag, but i'd suggest the post itself so that the phrase sticks with rb-s). it's a nice, non-pushy way of enticing people to reblog - a simple phrase like that can add a little extra delight to reblogging, & it makes rb-ers feel like they've helped out! which, yk. they have!

(and to anyone reading this who doesn't really post & is new to tumblr, reblogs do wonders - they keep tumblr running and creators creating. if you like a post, why not show it by reblogging too? it only takes a second to make someone's day!)

[rapspud]

Bittersweet

Bittersweet    A/N: Decided to rewrite this one. Please enjoy.

Yoongi looked at your friends as he sneered at your prone form sprawled out on the ground, your fingers scrambling to find your glasses.

“Aw what’s the matter? The poor baby can't see?” He purred as he picked up your glasses and dangled them in front of your face before throwing them into the dumpster. “Have fun diving!” He cackles as he slides past your prone figure, cruelly stepping on your hand as he passes.

You could hear the snickers of his friends behind you. You watched as his best friend, Seokjin clapped Yoongi on the shoulder, and whispered, “Oi, I get the whole I hate “y/n” thing but seriously—that was a bit much don’t you think?”

Yoongi  couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “She ratted us out! So I fixed it-and now she can’t see to snitch! And shouldn’t you be on my side? You’re in just as much trouble as I am!”

Seokjin could only look at Yoongi like he had a third head, “ Yeah I guess, but still...there is-” at Yoongi’s raised eyebrow he swallowed what he wanted to say, instead choosing to leave rather than to help Yoongi’s victim, “Hey I gotta go I’ll catch you later okay?”

Yoongi smiled and waved good-bye before walking away from the group. How could he possibly explain how much he hated Y/N? No one here knew the truth about your families-how he had to share a home with you,  your family serving his. He had no respite from you. Yeah, Y/N deserved everything she got, he thought as he got into his car. Plus it's not like you wouldn’t rat him out when you got home about what happened. This time as he drove past you and saw you hunched in on yourself, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as he saw you clutching your injured hand, staring resolute at the dumpster, knowing full well that you would go in after the glasses. After all, he knew how hard your mother worked to buy them for you, he knew how you worked 2 jobs and also kept track of your younger brothers. Deep down, he really hoped that maybe this time you would finally explode and tell everyone about all the horrid acts he committed against you. 

Except that you never did tell on him. 

In fact, you avoid Yoongi like the plague.  After finally scrambling into the dumpster and reclaiming your glasses, you clambored back out, hand still screaming in pain. As you stand there wiping the garbage from the lenses and picking off random refuse from your clothes you honestly don’t think you can sink any lower than this. You swipe grimey hands at your cheeks as hot tears run down them, thankful that you are alone. And as you walk away you begin to make plans. You couldn’t keep doing this. And with renewed energy you begin walking home, not didn’t looking back choosing instead to forge ahead, putting one foot in front of another until finally you were in your mid=twenties, and had your own little place. You were happy with your life. But you should have known. All good things must come to an end eventually. You hadn’t thought about him in years, attending school, graduating, opening up a bakery with your best friend. Essentially you were hiding, but not really. 

And then by some ill stroke of luck, he found you.

You awaken to the blaring of your alarm with a groan. Was it really 8 am? The flashing numbers of your clock inform you that it was in fact 8:59. Shit you were late. Cursing your snooze butten, you scrambled out of your bed and grabbed the cleanest clothes you could find off the floor and stumble as you attempt a whole new balancing act: pulling up your pants while holding a hot cup of coffee and a piece of toast dangling precariously from your teeth. As you run down the street towards the bus, slinging your backpack over your shoulder while you scramble to tuck your shirt in you promptly run into a solid wall and fall on your ass. Your hair is covering your face as you look up at  what you had plowed into, an apology already leaving your mouth when you got to the face. “Um…hi, uh…sorry about that.”

“Y/N. From YHSN?”

“Yes?” you become wary, no one around here really knows you as you chose to keep to yourself…“Do I know you?”

The grin that spread across the man’s face could be described as nothing less than cruel and vicious. “Yeah, Y/N L/N right? I am here to inform you that you have 24 hours to vacate the premises. Good luck.” He stated before unceremoniously dropping an envelope onto your lap and turning on her heel to leave you in a stunned heap on the floor.

What the hell had just happened? Maybe you were still dreaming?

You were dazed for a moment as your brain tried to compute the absolute absurdity of what had just happened and then you were on your feet chasing the man, yelling at him to stop but he just kept on walking.

Finally catching up to the man, you grab her arm, “What the fuck man?” you yell, “this is illegal as hell! Thirty days is the minimum!” You shove the notice back at the man, hitting him in her (very solid) chest hard.

“Y/n, Y/n, I see you're still full of venom huh? It’s completely legal actually-you see I” he leaned forward, “own the building now. And to my delight, what do I learn? I find out that Y/N L/N happens to be a tenant! Guess how happy I was to finally find you again after all these years and then get to have you vacate your home.” he laughs as you gape at him like a fish.

“Min fucking Yoongi, I do not have time for your petty ass childish bullshit! ” you hers, voice laced with venom.

“Aw kitten you remembered! I am truly honored! But alas I cant stay and chit-chat, and well, neither can you. Tata chica!” With that he jerks her arm from your grasp, sending you back to the ground in shock for the second time that morning, before climbing into an expensive black car and driving away.

You scream curses to the sky, because after 8 peaceful years, the man you had spent so long  running from and then finally forgetting, had found you. But of course, the sky only decides to rain. And as you trudge back home to call into work, (because seriously fuck this day) you can’t help but wonder how everything came to this moment. After a shower and change of clothes, you fall into your bed, allowing yourself one moment of respite before you begin to tackle this new problem, closing your eyes.

You were back there again, trapped both in a small body and the cave that haunts you as you watch helplessly at the rising water. Your tiny voice is raised, tinted with fear, “I told you we shouldn’t come here! My mama said-“

The boy next to you cut you off, “Crying ain’t gonna fix it, I will save us”

“You can't even swim,” You yell, unable to remain calm. 

“I AM GONNA SAVE US!” the small boy shouted, “so don’t cry Y/N.” He gave you a small smile, one that made you feel slightly safer and he took hold of your hand. “Follow me and don’t let go no matter what.”

“Okay,” you say, for some reason feeling braver after placing your faith along with your hand into the boy’s hand. He said he would, so of course he would save both of you. After all, he was your best friend and you don’t pick losers.

It was a lot harder though, when all was said and done. Yes, the two of you made it out of the cave alive, but not without nearly drowning, and you had slipped and injured your ankle along the way. Luckily, you did make it out, and while the two of you spent a cold wet night huddled together on the beach, you were alive. In the morning, you were rescued further as the search teams found. And while your mother had you wrapped up in her warmth and was crying and thanking the people over and over that had saved you, the same welcoming was not happening to the young boy. You could hear screaming as a woman in a fine dress and her husband yelled at the boy, your tiny hero, before there was a loud smack. You watch as the boy falls, hand clenched to her face, tears streaming down her face as her mother continues to land hard blows upon her body until she is dragged away. You cried out for you friend and as the two of you met eyes, for the first time you saw hatred reflected back at you. That was the day Min Yoongi stopped being your friend and became your tormentor.

He followed you everywhere, taunting you, breaking your things, and ultimately breaking you. Your mother finally quit working for her house the day he’d thrown your glasses into the garbage and you had come home, broken glasses in hand, face streaked with tears and reeking of garbage -you had finally confessed what had happened, what all had been happening. You had moved away, your mom working several jobs and then as well as yourself working, then you working to  pay your way through chef school and finally moving out into your own place. And all of it had just been destroyed because he found you.

You sigh looking up at your ceiling letting your anger consume you as you curse Min Yoongi to a lifetime of diarrhea. And an itchy butt. And you hoped her eyebrows fell out, just for good measure.

You look around your apartment one last time before closing the door with finality. this asshole, you think to yourself. “Just wait” you say as you look down at the address your brother had just texted you.

An hour later you stand before a gated house and ring the doorbell. And ring it. And ring it. And continue ringing it (after all it was nearly 6 am, and as you had learned that morning, if you want to ruin someone's day, do it first thing in the morning) until a sleepy figure stumbles outside and smacks your hand away. You take this opportunity to dart inside the gate and into the house carrying your things with you.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Yoongi yells at you from outside, beginning to stomp back to her front door. You could only grin as you take in the pajama bottoms and robe, while you stand there like a goddamn Amazonian queen, “You took my home. this is payback.” and then you dialed the police, “Yes? Officer? There’s a half naked man on my lawn, please send help! I’m so scared”

You couldn’t help the grin that covers your face as you smile at Yoongi, “Good luck asshole.” You say sweetly, before slamming the door in her face. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet as the sound of the lock turning over, followed a second later by desperate pounding at the door. And Yoongi could only pound on the door until the cops showed up and he explained that this was, in fact, her home, as well as that the intruder was actually you. The officers had asked him if he wanted you arrested and for once he let it go, telling them that you were having a lovers quarrel and apologizing that they had to come out over something so silly. As the cops pulled away, he went to the back of the house and slammed the sliding glass door open only to find the house seemingly empty. As he walked from room to room he couldn’t help but get angrier and angrier. But when he found you passed out on her bed, he paused, somehow her anger dissipating instantly. He stood there, looking at your sleeping body and wondered if you would ever know her real feelings for you. If he would ever be able to tell you. And the real question: could you forgive him? He knew it was asking a lot, but he could only hope. He sat and thought about how to express to you the things he needed to say. He wondered how exactly did one explain how guilty he felt about how he treated you, how he didn’t really understand why he went out of her way to make your life miserable back then…and then you had left him. How, when you left he realized just how broken he was inside. When he bought the building he couldn’t believe her luck when he saw your name as one of the tenants, but her old ways came back hard and for some ungodly childish reason he couldn’t control himself. That he should have been apologizing that morning and telling you how thankful he was that it had also brought you back to him. He guessed that it was far too late for him to ever have your forgiveness and he couldn’t help the smile that played on her mouth as he approached the bed. He reached out a hand to smooth back some hair that covered your face when you wherpered, “Yoongi...” he stilled, “…I’m sorry” you mumbled. What could you possibly be sorry for? He couldn’t help it, but it made him angry that you would apologize to him after everything he’d done and especially while in such a vulnerable state that the next thing he knew he was grabbing the blanket and ripping it away from your curled form. It’s momentum  sends you over the edge of the bed to land in a heap on the floor. You sit up cursing her very existence,

 “What the hell Y/N?!” He yells right back, while you could only manage to stare up at him from where you sat on the floor. But this time you weren’t having any of her bullshit. You jump up and get in her face “ What the hell? What do YOU mean what the hell? Who the hell buys a building solely to evict one person?! Are you that rich? Do you hate me that much?”

Yoongi yelled back, “Hell yeah I do!“ 

"You have issues, Min Yoongi! I did nothing to you except be born! Do you know how hard I worked to forget what you did to me? And you come just back,” you pause, swallowing thickly, you would not cry. Not here. Not now, “But not anymore! I won't let you break me again Yoongi. I am worth so much more than that!”

Exhausted, you  move to push around him but he grabs your wrists instead and pins you against the wall.

“Let me go you asshole!” you yell at him fighting back for once in your life, all while trying to hide your face and the tears that were no longer just threatening to spill over. “Can't you just hate me from a distance? I’m sorry your mom was a horrid cunt to you! I’m sorry, okay! But please, just let me go! Leave me alone” And then her hands were gone, and you were free. You couldn’t help it, you looked up and stared him in the eyes, for once determined to make him see how he wrecked you.

Yoongi could only stare at you, watching as the tears fell, tears once again caused by him, and then he heard the five words that ripped open her wounds, words he knew he deserved, said in a voice so broken he didn’t know where he should start to even attempt to repair it.

“I hate you Min Yoongi.“

He couldn’t stand it, he knew he deserved them but he just couldn’t stand there and just accept them. Accepting those words would be like giving up, and giving up probably the only pure thing he still had in her life. Had. And so he moved, not thinking about consequences, only a desire to cleanse those words from the air around him. He grabs you again, pushing you against the wall, capturing your face in one hand, forcing you to meet her eyes, while he brushes your hair away with the other, "Good. Never forget it.”

And then he crashes her mouth against yours.

You didn’t know how what was happening was happening and some stupid part of you was excited to have him pressed against you,  mouth was moving against yours and then you were responding and for some reason it felt so good–like coming home. It was like your body suddenly was against everything you wanted-you found yourself wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, a giggle bubbling up when you nipped at her lip and he groaned. and then you both were tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. And then the world stops making sense. You and Min Yoongi, enemy of the state #1 were having sex. And it was good. It felt so right, like you two had been made to fit each other only. When it was over he lay behind you, placing gentle kisses along your neck and down your collar bone. The last thing you remember before falling asleep in your enemy’s arms was Yoongi gently wherpering a muffled “I’m sorry” into your ear over and over.

When you wake, you are surprised to find an arm wrapped around your waist and you freeze as the memories of the night before come rushing back and you begin to mentally beat yourself up as you carefully slide out of the bed and grab your clothes, making a mad dash out of the house, dressing yourself along the way.

No way had you slept with Yoongi and enjoyed it. You were an idiot of the highest order. You slept with the man who wanted you homeless because he hated you.

You let out a deep sigh as you did a very new special walk of shame to your job, where your boss, Mandi greeted you by yelling, “Oi ! What cat pissed in your cheerios?”

Causing the other workers to laugh until you pinned them with your patented Crazy-eye ™, at which point they scurried away except for that moron Seokjin who slung his arm around your shoulders jovially, “So why is my favorite girl doing the walk of shame?”

You glare and shrug his arm off, “None of your business.” 

“Dude its obs-you’re like a whole 4 hours late-and you are never late. So what happened? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll just call me an idiot if I tell you.”

“I swear on cake I won't.”

You raise an eyebrow before saying a name you never thought you’d say just to see him eat his words. “Min Yoongi.”

“Shut the front door! You’re an idiot”

“The cake is ashamed of you and asks that you keep your distance.” You say as you move to the back rooms to put away your belongings.

Not giving up, Seokjin follows you, even going so far as to hand you your apron, “Seriously? Didn’t he like-”

“Terrorize me to the point of moving? Then find me years later and evict me? Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” Seokjin asked worriedly, For the shit talking between the two of you, you smile to know he does really care.

“I have to be.”

“Did you at least use a condom?” He asks.

“Oh my god.”

“You really are an idiot. But don’t worry…you know I’ve got your back right? Well, we’ve got your back.”

You could only stare at Seokjin as your mind whirls through the consequences of last night, “It should be fine right?” you ask.

“Sure, cupcake. Keep telling yourself that”

There is a ding from the door and you see your brother Jungkook shuffles in with your other brother Namjoon, and giving Seokjin a look that clearly says “Keep your mouth shut if you want to live” you take a deep breath and head behind the counter to wash your hands, greeting them as you go.

“COFFEE. COFFEE NOW.” Namjoon grunts demandingly, taking a seat and burying her head in her hands,  while Jungkook adds a half-hearted “Please…and a raspberry jelly for me.”

“Rough night?” You ask as you pour the two men coffee and grab Jungkook her donut and slide it in front of them.

Jungkook grins, “Nah, Joon thought he could out drink me. He thought wrong.”

“Shhhhhhhhh!! You’re so loud,” hersed Namjoon, shoving a hand at Jungkook’s face and missing entirely.

You grin and speak extra loud, “Shouldn’t you know by now to let the kids drink and you go home and sleep?”

Namjoon just glares at you, “I have a gun.”

“I aint scared of you.”

The shop bursts into laughter as Namjoon buries her head in her arms on the counter, “Why do you hate me so much?” He whines.

“Mom likes you more, and I’m a petty bitch.”

Jungkook grins, “But she likes me most!”

Both you and Namjoon glare at him, “Shut up!”

Yoongi wakes up to an empty bed and he frowns, crawling out of bed and pulling on her boxers. He wanders around the house looking for you, hoping that you haven't run away and when he can’t find you, her heart sinks. Was he that awful that you would still run away from him even after what you had shared? And worse, what if he had gone too far this time?

He makes her way back to her room and grabs her phone, calling her secretary.

“Yo.” Answered Hoseok.

“Really that’s how you answer the phone? You do know that I am your boss right?”

“Debatable today.”

Yoongi rolls her eyes, “Anyways, I need you to find someone…”

“Well you know Imma need a little more…”

“Y/N. You remember her right?”

“You mean the girl you tortured in school because you didn’t have the balls to tell her how you lurrrrrrrved her.”

“I see you wish to die today.”

“No, not today. So you wish for me to find your wayward love?”

“Yeah.”

“Mandi’s shop.” Hoseok cheerfully replied, as if this should be common knowledge. 

“Oh yeah, great idea bring me some coffee please?”

“No, you idiot, Y/N works there. She is actually her partner” Hosoek irritatingly says matter of factly.

“The hell?! Why do you know this but I don’t?”

“Dude, seriously? You do know they were friends growing up and just because you made her run away by being a complete ass doesn’t mean they stopped being friends.”

“My best friend and my sister have been lying to me.” 

“It’s not lying when you never asked. But Yoongi…you should let her go. It’s been a long time and I know you had feelings but with how you treated her–“

"She was here.” Yoongi grunted, running a hand over her face as he stood in her closet trying to think of what to wear. What says “I come in peace”? Maybe he could get Hoseok to dress up as Spock and talk to Y/N before he does. 

“What? And you’re alive?”

“Yeah. We…um…she was gone this morning,” Yoongi sits down on her bed, running a hand through her hair.

"Oh…” and as realization hits, Hoseok intones sagely,” ...oh my god you’re fucking moron.”

“You know I can fire you.”

“Please bitch, I know all your deepest darkest secrets you ain’t gonna fire me.”

“Just…shit…what should I do?” Yoongi asks, finally letting go of her big bad boss act.

“Dude, I don’t know. You slept with her…maybe you should just…”

“I um…fucked up more than that…” He thinks about how you had felt, how he had felt...how absolutely perfect it had been for just one night, A flicker of fear strums through her heart at the thought that this was not salvageable at all. 

“No. no way. Our friendship is over.” Hoseok cracks from the other side of the phone.

“Just help me okay?” 

There was a long pause before he heard a heavy sigh, “Fine, but no games. She has a good thing going on and you-”

“I swear it's different this time!” Yoongi pleads. 

“Whatever. I should warn you though.”

“Warn me about what?”

“Her brothers.”

“Namjoon and Jungkook? We were old friends, what about them?”

“You were old friends until they found out how you treated her. And bonus points-they are both cops now. Partners even, so you should probably pray for your soul.”

With a groan, Yoongi finally gets up and begins to get dressed putting Hoseok on speakerphone. “I’m so dead.”  

“Yep,” affirms Hoseok, “So does that mean I can have your stuff?” 

Rolling her eyes and thinking he really needs a new assistant, Yoongi growls out“See you at the office.” only to hear Hoseok laughing before he hangs up the phone. 

Yoongi finishes getting dressed, and running a hand over her face as he contemplates this new information. You’d been right under her nose the entire time and everyone had kept it a secret. He guessed he deserved it though, he was a complete and utter ass to you. He also guesses it’s time to make it up to you and hopefully, you would forgive him and let him into your heart, where he belonged. After all, you’d always been in his.

2 months later

Yoongi stands outside her (former) sister’s shop watching as you serve your customers, and realizes sadly that it was the first time in a long time that  he’d really ever seen you smile. He wanted that smile for himself and himself alone, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. When he had remodeled your former apartment, expanding it through the two vacant units on either side of you, you just got mad at him for evicting you, when he was just redoing the apartment and you claimed it was far too large for you by yourself now. But that was the point wasn't it? He was hoping that somehow you would just...come back to him on your own and he wouldn’t really have to put any work in. Yoongi realizes then that he is an absolute dumbass.

After all, nothing he’d done so far had managed to make you smile at him or hell just give him the time of day and he was beyond frustrated. Couldn’t you see how hard he was trying for you?

Mandi pokes her head out of the shop interrupting his train of thought,

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps at him.

“Wow, do you greet all your customers like this?”

“Yoongi. Listen. Whatever it this is about now isn’t–”

Realization hits for the second time that morning, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Mandi pauses, looking him up and down, “There’s nothing to tell if you already know.”

He could almost feel the metaphorical walls slamming down around him as Mandi went on guard. “Mandi!”

“No. Not about ther.”

“I’ve known for almost a month.”

“Then you should go know somewhere else.”  Mandi stepped outside, becoming a most effective blockade. If someone was to ever wage war against his sister, his money, hell, his entire fortune would be on Mandi.

“Listen, you’re my brother and I love you and I know you know what you did wrong, and really it's sweet you want to make amends but …Yoongi, sometimes things…”

“I slept with her.”

“Do you want a trophy?” Mandi snapped, her fists clenched, before she  shook her head, “you have five seconds or I’m opening ther door and I’m calling her brothers out here.”

“We didn’t use protection.”

“Well then I guess today you die you little fucking weasel.”

“I love her.”

That’s when he remembered his sister’s left hook and then the lights went out.

Mandi stomps into the store grabbing you by the arm and dragging you upstairs ignoring your protests, shoving you into the bedroom and giving you a look reserved for her son’s Taehyung and Jimin when they are acting up. “Stay.”

Mandi goes back downstairs and motions Namjoon and Kookie over, “Listen, I know you hate Min Yoongi with like the passion of 7 fiery suns but I need you to hold that rage in and help me get his ass inside.”

Namjoon was already up and out the door at the sound of Min Yoongi’s name, and seconds later was dragging a barely conscious Yoongi in by the collar. While Kookie held open the door, Namjoon made sure Yoongi purposely whacked his head on the door frame and when Mandi winced he gave her a look that clearly said “sorry not sorry” before dropping Yoongi on the shop floor like the sorry sack of shit he thought he was.

“I’m sorry folks,” Mandi announces, “due to my crazy family, the shop will be closing early.”

The patrons all scrambled out of the shop while Jungkook handcuffed Yoongi to a chair and dumped a cup of ice water on him.

Yoongi jerked back, fully awake now and met by 3 pairs of eyes. 3 very angry pairs of eyes. He shook his head and tried to move but found himself handcuffed to the chair and he gives Mandi a look that says “Really?”

“Kook uncuff him. Seriously. And you and Joon leave.”

“No.”

“Did I stutter?”

“Okay, but we get dibs if you decide to kill him.” Jungkook, grumbles as he undoes the handcuffs.

“I’m not going to kill him. Today.”

“Fine.”

Jungkook finishes unlocking the cuffs and Yoongi immediately rubs at his wrists and watches warily as Jungkook and Namjoon leaves the shop, rolling his eyes when Jungkook gives him the international sign for “I’m watching you” while Joon drew his thumb across his neck. They were dramatic as fuck, but then again he might just be dramatically fucked.

Mandi pulls up a chair and sits across from Yoongi and stares at him for several long moments until Yoongi breaks the silence, “Just say it.”

“Why?”

“It just happened like that.”

“Bullshit.”

Yoongi sighed, “I’ve grown up since then. I no longer want to pull her hair.”

“Clearly. And you didn’t just pull her hair, you did a lot worse.”

“Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

“I am fucking Switzerland.”

Yoongi couldn’t help the anger that swelled up and choked him, “Clearly not. You knew where she was all these years and you never said anything. This is why you never let me come to the shop then? You knew I was looking for her, that I wanted-”

“Of course,” interrupted Mandi. 

“Why?”

“Because you are an idiot who doesn’t know how to communicate. Look at what happened--when you did find her, your first action was to take her home. Who fucking does that shit?”

“You’re right, I was. I was cruel and spiteful. Keyword: was.”

“Bullshit. Taking away her home wasn’t because you were being spiteful. You wanted what she had. That’s called envy. She left because she wanted to live, and the only way she could was to leave. You made it like this. I almost lost my friend. So of course I kept it a secret.” Mandi sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. “Look I know. I know what y

our mom and dad did. How they treated us. We were mere points on a checklist of creating a picture perfect family. But you had no right-”

“I was stupid. You think I don’t know? That I don’t regret it? I love her. I always have.”

“Actions-”

“Speak louder than words I know. I’m trying to fix that now!”

Mandi closes her eyes, debating her next few words  "Can I trust you? That’s the-“ ”

“Yes. I swear I'll spend my life…”

“Doing what?” You interrupt, “Sorry, since you seem to be discussing me I couldn’t stay put,” you say to Mandi. “Yoongi I don’t want your money and if you are worried because we didn’t…,” you swallow before continuing with a brave face, “....I’ll be fine. but you really have to stop sending me presents. I don’t want them. Can’t you just stay…”

“Y/N I’m sorry. I was an ass.”

“Still an ass.” Mandi interrupts, “Look, you two clearly need to talk this out so I’m out. Come on Seokjin, let’s go see a movie.”

With that Seokjin and Mandi beat a hasty retreat leaving the two of you alone.

“Your jaw is swelling.” You say after noticing the blossoming bruise that marred his handsome face. Handsome? What the hell were you even thinking?

“Mandi hit me.”

“Why?”

“I told her what happened. She’s very protective of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…that night…I shouldn’t have that.”

“I let you. It wasn’t just you alone.”

“Please, just listen. I’m sorry. For everything. And I’m sorry for not saying that when we met again. It's just…”

“It's just..what?” You questioned, meeting his eyes. 

“I don’t know. When I look at you I want you. You are so good and pure and you deserve the world. I wanted you to myself but I was scared…”

“Scared of?”

“You.”

“Me?” You scoff at the idea of anyone being afraid of you.

“Yeah,” Yoongi stood and walked over to you. “You had everything even though you had nothing. Brothers who worshiped you, a mother who did everything for you…what if I ruined that? What if my mother-”

“How would you ruin that?” You ask, finding patience from who knows where.

“I was messed up…and the older I got the worse…things got worse. You saw, you can’t pretend you didn’t. I took out my suffering on you because nothing good could possibly exist and you were just hiding your real nature. But you never retaliated. You kept reaching out to me over and over again. ”

“But I did retaliate.”

“By locking me out of my house after I took yours? Not really. I mean…I deserve far worse,” chucked Yoongi. He wanted so badly to touch you, to pull you into his arms and just...feel you. 

You stare at Yoongi. This broken version of Yoongi with tears in his eyes. Could you trust him? You wanted to give him a chance.

“Let’s….go on a date.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, “What?”

“You like me right?”

“Well–I mean–I did when I was—I do”

“Take me on a date, final offer going in one–two..”

“Fine! I’ll take you on a damn date,” Yoongi smiles.

“No fancy shit tho. $100 limit.”

“I’ll take you on the best damn date of your life!”

“Good.”

Yoongi didn’t know why he was being snippy now, but as he left the shop he couldn’t help but do a little cheer when he got into his car. Hoseok rolled his eyes and politely ignored him.

Yoongi stood at the door of your apartment, and for the first time in his life he hesitated, hand poised to ring the doorbell, and then you swung open the door and suddenly the world stopped. You looked amazing. Your hair was curled, makeup accenting your eyes perfectly, wearing black skinny slacks, a hound’s-tooth patterned sweater over a white button down and pink heels. He took in the perfection that was you and thought, “She was made for me.”

And the fear was gone as he smiled at you and he took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah let me grab my purse,” you say as you try to let go of his hand to grab the bag on the chair beside your front door but he wouldn’t let go. You couldn’t help the blush that blossomed over your cheeks as he stepped inside and grabbed the bag for you and waited for you to lock up so you both could leave.

He pulled you along, never letting go, until he reached his car and opened the door. It was only enough time for him to run around and get the car moving before he was locking fingers with you again.

“What’s up with you?” You smirk.

“Just…making up for lost time.”

“What?”

“I just…I should have been doing this for years now.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “So…are you always this cheesy?”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “I mean…I’m not…no…,” Yoongi stuttered and then stopped, “I guess I am cheesy it's just…I can tell you I’m sorry but…”

“Actions speak louder than words?”

“I see you have met my sister,” he joked softly, “And we’re here.”

“A movie? Really?”

“I always had wished to take you…”

Yoongi’s eyes stared into yours, “Yoongi…” you say timidly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not her anymore you know? I grew up…you grew up…let’s leave it behind us and start fresh yeah?”

“What do you mean?”

You stick your hand out, “Hi, my name is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yoongi stared at you you’d suddenly sprouted a third eye on your nose before awkwardly taking your hand and shaking it, “Min Yoongi…the pleasure is all mine.”

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned expression, not knowing he was just in shock from receiving your smile. To him, your smile in that moment could have powered a thousand suns. 

Yoongi was quiet but still took your hand and you entered the theater with a smile on your face, happy that things were getting better, that you could almost believe you had your first love back.

2 hours later.

“Yoongi,  why are you pouting?” You ask as you take his hand.

“Look no matter how I look at it, it's just not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“Mandi. Seokjin. They have spent years with you…years that should have been with me.”

“I thought we were moving forward.”

“But.”

You sighed. “Look. You want to know the truth?”

Yoongi stopped and stared at you, “yes.”

“Okay then.” You face him, “You crushed me in every way possible. You were my world. I followed you everywhere. I trusted you, and you were always there and then you weren’t. The night we got stuck in the cave I gave you my faith—but it also is and was the moment I gave my whole heart to you, willingly, without any doubt. And the next day when we were found…you stomped on it. And you continued to stomp on it. I cried so many tears everyday because I hoped that one day my hero would come back. But he never did. He became a villain.” You couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, “And even through all that I still…” you sighed. “I can't do this Yoongi. I can't. I’m sorry,  I was wrong to try.” You turned on your heel and ran away, ignoring him yelling after you, you just ran until you couldn’t hear him anymore. 

And then you found the alcohol.

You sat at the outside bar drinking as you thought about the past two months. All the things you had done with Yoongi , and how disgusted you were with yourself for letting your old feelings come back so easily. You knew it wasn’t the right choice, but it was the one you wanted. You had decided to drown yourself in alcohol,  and you were on your third bottle when the object of your conflicting emotions, sat down across from you.

“Y/N.”

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking!” Your giggle turns to a frown when you hear the heavy sigh come across from you, “Are you judging me? It’s not nice to judge you know! “

“Why are you drinking Y/N?”

“Because,” you leaned forward, whispering conspiratively, “I’ve been bad.”

“Bad? How so?”

You sigh dreamily, a wistful smile playing upon your lips, “There’s this guy…”

“There always is.”

“Shhh! This is my story!” You shout.

“Sorry.”

“Where was I?” 

“Something about a guy…”

“SHHHHHH! So rude interrupting me! Anyways…I’m supposed to hate him but…” you thump your chest hard as tears prick your eyes, “But…”

“But what?”

“I can't…I remember him before…and the him that I remember…he’s still there…and all the warning alarms are going off and I’m so scared to love him but I…I think…”

“You think?”

You lay your head on the table, mumbling, “Think it’s too late…think I love him. Think it has always been too late for me. Even after all the bullshit…you see…he’s still here” You thump your chest hard and sigh as you feel the tears slide down your cheek to land on the table, “ I love him and I don’t want to…I didn’t mean too…”

“Mean to what?” 

“To love him, but…”

“You do.”

“Yeah” you whisper softly.

“Yoongi…” you can feel the man smile, you don’t know how you know but you do, “why do I have to love you?”

“You love me?” He asks, the hope wrapped in fear in his voice twisting your heart even more than all the past crap that had happened. You wanted to let it go. You wanted to love him. You can only nod your head as your eyes slide close, and you struggle against the darkness when you hear him whisper, “I love you too Y/N…I’m just scared…I’m not good enough…I was such an ass…and I know you said to let it go…but God Y/N…I should have treated you like a princess…because the truth is…”

Those words cause you to sit up, eyes squinting hard as you try to make out his face, “Yoongi?”

“Yeah?”

You lean forward and his face comes into focus, a smile spreads on your face and you lean forward to press your lips to his, softly at first, and then he responds, a hand sliding up your arm to cup your neck as you express to him what you can’t say in words. This was so much better than petty arguments and revenge pranks.  

You pull away, breathing heavy as you rest your forehead against his, “Yoongi,” you whimper, keeping your eyes firmly on the buttons of his shirt, scared to look up, scared to see the fear in his eyes. Does he not know?  “Can I…can I be yours?“ You ask in a voice so quiet it is almost lost in the noise of the world that surrounds you. 

"Can you forgive me?” The pain in his voice was sharp. “I forgive you.” You whisper into his mouth as you make promises with your lips.

He pulls away for a moment, and you lock eyes finally. “Then believe me when I say, I was always yours, and you were always mine.” 

“I was?”

The amount of disbelief in your voice causes Yoongi to tear up as he pulls you into his arms, “Kitten?”

“Yeah,” you say as you rest your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

This time it was his turn to ask, “Am I yours?”

“You always were Yoongi. I was just waiting for you to remember where home was.”

Yoongi places the softest of kisses on each of your eyelids, and then he kisses away your tears and finally his mouth was on yours, and the kiss was full of yearning. “Y/N.”

“Yes?” You ask, sad he had pulled away. 

“Don’t leave me again…I love you too.”

“Okay.”

[coffeesuperhero]

SOFT ASK: out of the OT3, who is most likely to smuggle in a kitten they found on the street?

Ah what a good soft ask, thank you SO MUCH

Honestly I’m gonna go with Eliot, and here is my reasoning: 

1) I am picturing Hardison out behind the brewpub, surprised by a smol cat. Hardison doesn’t see the cat at first, instead he a) sees boxes moving b) immediately says “oh hell no” because c) his first instinct is that this is a rat or similar animal that eats garbage and carries germs and is a possible plague vector so d) he doesn’t even see that it’s a cat, because he’s gone back inside and told Parker and Eliot that there is a rat in the alley, please someone else deal with this, I don’t do rats. 

2) And Eliot’s busy cooking so Parker goes outside, because she doesn’t care about rats, it’s whatever, she’s seen plenty of them crawling through air vents and wandering warehouses, and then it’s a small little black cat, instead, and she doesn’t bring it inside because you know, maybe it’s happy out there? It’s free to roam and climb up on things whenever it wants to and take stuff that doesn’t belong to it and that sounds good to her, but you know, that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t appreciate nice food every once in a while, maybe? So she thieves some milk and fish from the kitchen when Eliot isn’t looking and leaves it out back and tells Hardison it was a cat, silly and Hardison mightily insists that it was not, no way, he is not scared of cats, that was definitely like, a very large rat, probably, and Eliot mumbles something about there being two scaredy cats around here then, sounds like and Hardison is affronted and Eliot laughs and Parker rolls her eyes because here they go again. 

3) Eliot’s mostly just enjoying his afternoon making fun of Hardison and he is not at all worried about a cat outside in the alley but the thing is that maybe he should just like, look out there, just to see, on the off chance that Hardison was right and somehow it is a rat because if it was that problem needs to be addressed immediately before one of them finds its way into the brewpub, because that’s a health hazard, right there. So he just looks, and he sees the food Parker left out and swears a little because dammit Parker that is how you get rats then there is a very small meow from behind the dumpster, and a small cat rubbing up against his leg, and maybe this is just me and all my Eliot feelings but I kind of think this small creature with its many knifehands just sort of innately knowing it could trust him of all people would be A Lot, Emotionally, so he can’t just leave it out there because it is going to rain, so maybe he brings it upstairs and gruffly informs his very surprised partners that they have a cat now, or they do until Monday when he can take it to the animal shelter, which he’s definitely going to do, okay, it’s just that they’re very busy on Monday, so maybe Tuesday, but they’re also very busy on Tuesday, and anyway Parker already named the cat Money, and Hardison complains when it walks on his computer equipment but doesn’t make it move, so it seems like they have a cat now, and that’s how that went. 

[gemma-lemma]

Cloudy Days - JJ Maybank x Male OC

PROLOGUE

Parker Cloud had always been a good runner. Fast, with great stamina, and he'd always loved it. He had also been very good at parcours since the very moment he decided to pick it up in seventh grade. That was due to his best friend, Billy, who had seen videos on the internet and become obsessed with it. Within the first three months of picking it up, Billy had twisted both of his ankles consecutively, and Parker had broken a rib due to an unfortunate fall. But even though it had hurt like a bitch, it hadn't mattered, because he was doing it with Billy, who in turn had been the happiest boy alive. And seeing Billy happy had always been a priority to Parker. Because even though he understood only now, when it was already too late, Billy had not only been his friend. His feelings for the curly boy had always been slightly more than just friendship.

"One day, Park, we will be so good, that we can go to the Parcours-Olympics!" He had cheered,

getting a giggle for an answer. His golden eyes had lighted up, and he had thrown his fist up in the air as a challenge.

"Parcours-Olympics? Is that even a thing?" Parker had laughed, sipping on his cherry fruit pack.

"Of course it is! And if it isn't yet, then we will just invent it once we're grown-ups!"

Upon seeing the light in his eyes, Parker hadn't been able to bring it over himself to ask the question that had shot through his mind aloud. Were they really ever going to be so lucky to grow up? Because in all honesty, they already had known how the rest of their lives probably was going to look like. Following their parents into a gang, selling drugs and beating up the assholes who didn't pay, probably dying before reaching the sweet age of thirty because of some senseless gang war or a junkie gone rogue. He just couldn't bring it over himself to turn off that light in his best friend Billy's eyes.

That same friend Billy who was now bleeding out behind a dumpster in a dark alley of the slums of Jacksonville, North Carolina. And Parker could not even be there for him, telling him to hold on just a little while longer, or call an ambulance for that matter, because he was too busy running away from the guys who had shot him. Damn, he could barely even see his hand amidst the dark of the night, how was he supposed to find a way out of this fucked up situation? Parker wanted to scream his guts out.

It turned out, that after years of working for the Blood Hounds, a gang that was known for drug trafficking and violence, it still only took a single tiny mistake to cross another gang so far that they were willing to shoot them on the spot. The Aquila, Eagle. Parker would've laughed if he'd had the breath. This was all Damon's fault, that disgusting bastard. He must've known. He couldn't have not known!

Running through alley after alley, not knowing where to go or if they were still behind him, he pushed the picture of Billy's dilated eyes out of his head. He could not think now of the way the blood had soaked his white t-shirt, or the way his breathing had become more and more laboured, right before he sank to his knees. He could not think of the way he had begged him to run, before he landed in the ditch.

Upon meeting a dead-end, Parker came to a slithering halt. Fuck, and what now?, he thought to himself, looking around frantically and trying to suck as much air into his lungs as possible.

Just as he realised his one-way ticket out, he heard voices behind him and knew he had to hurry. With sloppy movements he jumped onto the dumpster and hauled himself up onto the brick wall. Though sore, his muscles knew the movement perfectly, and did not betray him. He was half-up the rain gutter, when the first shot rang and he flinched.

His hand almost slipped, but he could catch himself in the last second. Frantically, he glanced down towards the ground, where three men were stood, two of them pointing their guns at him, panting. If he fell, he would break his neck. If they hit their target, he wouldn't have to worry about his neck anymore.

"Come on, little hound. Come down and we promise we're not gonna hurt ya!" One of them called, wickedness in his raspy voice, and Parker wasn't sure whether he wanted to cry out loud or bark a laugh. If he came down, if he actually made it back to the ground alive, they would not only kill him, but also torture him for wasting their time and calories.

"Uh, sorry, Compadre, but I think I'll pass! Thanks for the offer, though!" He called down, dodging a shot, but not quite. It tore open the skin of his arm, and he let out a pained scream. If he didn't get out of there asap, they would shoot him down like a porcelain dove. And he certainly had never liked hunting.

So he decided to climb higher, hoping that the dark would affect their accuracy as much as it did him in not seeing the dead end. Three shots rang, each of them missing him, until he finally reached the roof. Once he was over the edge, he glanced down one last time and saluted mockingly.

"Hasta la Vista, babies." He called before running off towards the next roof.

That should keep them off for a while, he thought to himself and allowed himself to feel a little victorious. But what now? He would never make it back in time to save Billy, considering he was still breathing, and they probably already knew who he was, so no matter what he did, they would come for him. He couldn't ask Damon, the leader of the Blood Hounds, for help either, knowing that he would probably kick him out upon hearing what had happened to wash himself clean of any guilt.

Parker barked out a dry laugh. That man really was a rat with no honour. He hadn't even told them that the party they had announced to sell drugs at had already been claimed by the Aquila. Had they just known, Billy would still be alive, and Parker wouldn't be on the run, bleeding, scared. He wasn't even surprised by it. What had he expected from Damon, anyways? It still hurt, though.

So, what now? Now, he had to run until he reached a place where they wouldn't come looking for him. But where would that be?

As he reached the edge of the roof he was currently running across, he jumped down and right into a dumpster, wondering whether he should even dare to go home and get some things. He had a stash of money hidden in his mattress, after all.

Breathing heavily, he hauled himself out of the garbage and landed on the cold, hard concrete with a loud thump. Everything hurt, but he couldn't listen to his body now, when he actually had a genuine chance for to escape.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He murmured, trying to think clearly as he sneaked out of the alley and onto the dimly lit street. Right across from him was a 24hour supermarket that looked worse than a garbage dump, especially with the palm stickers on the windows. Someone had sprayed the coconuts into dicks with graffiti.

Upon studying the way the light inside flickered, a picture of surfboards and a beach crossed his mind, and a certain brother of his mum smiled at him through his memory, who certainly would not refuse him refuge.

That was what he was going to do, he decided. He was going to visit his uncle. Now that he had a destination, he just had to get the fuck out of here as fast as possible. Where even was he? He walked down the street a little further until he could read a dirty street sign and realized that he was only a few streets from home. Jackpot!

The run he broke into was the fastest he had ever run, and when he finally jumped up the stairs to his apartment, he was so out of breath that he couldn't even say hello to his father who lay on the couch, half empty beer bottle in his hand and feet propped up on the table. The TV threw little light on his dirty tank top, and when Parker barged into the tiny living room, he threw him an irritated look for interrupting his show. But Parker had no time for that. He made a beeline to his room, where he grabbed his school backpack and turned it upside down, emptying it on the floor.

"Boy, what has gotten into you? Why are you back so early?" Vincent Cloud asked, standing in the doorframe to his son's room. His son, who now frantically tore random pieces of clothing out of his closet and desperately tried to suck in enough oxygen to answer.

"Are you bleeding?!" He realised.

"We were set up. Or maybe not - I don't know." Parker gasped, throwing the covers off his bed and tearing the mattress open with a knife he fished out of his nightstand drawer. "The party we wanted to sell the drugs at, the Aquila had already claimed it. We didn't know." Parkers voice began to shake just the slightest as he grabbed a wad of cash and began to count it. He lost count several times, starting over and over while standing up and turning his body towards his father.

"Parker, where is Billy?" The older man asked, worry underlining his voice. Parker looked up at him with glittering eyes, barely shaking his head.

"Billy's dead, and they're coming for me next. They made it clear. I have to- have to get- get out of he- out of he-here." He gasped, starting to hyperventilate as the adrenaline left his veins. Was the room turning? No, the walls were coming closer!

Stepping over torn up schoolbooks and crumpled laundry, his father crossed the tight room and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, forcing him to look him in the face.

"Parker, breathe!" He instructed, and the seventeen-year-old followed the order best as he could.

"Do you know a place to hide?" Vincent asked sternly, hating the life he had dragged his son into. He often told himself that it had been the only choice he had had but could never quite live with that answer. When he had been younger, dreaming of being a father one day, he would never have wanted for his kid to live a life like that. He never would have wanted this for Parker and had been trying to get out of the gang for some time now to help his son secure a better future. It wasn't that easy though, he had come to realise, as the only way Damon allowed the members of his gang to leave was in a coffin.

"Yes, it's-" Parker began to explain, but he interrupted him quickly.

"Don't tell me. Just make sure you're safe. Send me an email or something once you are, and then build yourself a life. Get the hell away from your past, you hear me?" He said with emphasis, and Parker was close to tears. He nodded and counted his money again, ignoring the fact that he had miscounted probably at least twice. Then he split it in half and held one half out to his father.

"I don't know how much we owe. I don't know if they're gonna come for it. Take this in case they want it back or something. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Build yourself a future, son, and now go."

"I love you, dad." He said his goodbye, and his father nodded knowingly.

"I know. I love you, too."

Thanking his father one last time, Parker grabbed his backpack and left the apartment he had grown up in. The rest of his way to the harbour was barely more than a blur, he wasn't even sure how he landed on the ferry in the first place. He just knew when he was sat in some dark corner, that nothing would ever be the same again.

Only when he was hiding there in the protecting darkness of the night, he allowed himself to truly burst into tears, grieving the loss of his best friend, his father, and everything he had known. Hopefully, the future would be kinder.

[seagreen-meets-grey]

The Last Slide: Ch. 3

@feeisamarshmallow dun dun dunnn number threee

Read on ao3

_______________

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

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There was a bounce in her step as Amy walked away, leaving Jake to finish his paperwork. When Holt had given her the green light to work the water park murder case with Jake, she saw the slight twitch around the corners of his mouth and noticed that the parting nod he gave when he dismissed her from his office was just a little bit slower and more significant than usual. This was a personal gift to her for the many years she’d worked for and bonded with him.

Then the mere excitement in her husband’s eyes as she told him about the case added an extra layer of levity to her enthusiasm. Seeing him so happy never failed to make her smile and believe that the world was inherently good, despite the people who shot poisoned darts into someone’s neck at the water park.

And just after noon, when business at the apartment would be done, they’d leave to work their last case together, at least while working at the same precinct. It should have made her sad, knowing it would soon be over, but the thing was, it would not be over. She was still going to see everyone from the precinct regularly, Jake obviously the most. It didn’t feel like a real goodbye as long as she only switched locations. Her new precinct wasn’t even that far away, close enough to meet up for lunch.

(Maybe she was a little bit in denial about everything, but she’d find that out soon enough anyway. For now, gloomy wasn’t a real word in Amy Santiago’s vocabulary.)

Humming contentedly to herself, she entered the women’s bathroom – and did a double-take at the juxtaposition of a familiar leather jacket and the red-rimmed eyes staring at her wide-eyed through the mirror.

“Rosa?” she exclaimed in surprise. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” Rosa sniffed in a gruff reply. “I’m allergic.” When she turned around to face Amy, an understanding passed between the women. Rosa knew that Amy knew that allergies weren’t involved in the detective crying in the women’s bathroom at work. Especially after Rosa had come in late this morning.

“Do you want to talk about those allergies?”

“No.” Rosa pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and put them on to hide the red eyes, brushing past Amy to the door. On the threshold, however, she hesitated, then tilted her head at Amy without looking at her directly. “I know you’re not going to leave this alone, so… If you want to help me with these allergies, be at my place tonight at eight.”

Then she left, head held high, and Amy felt a second wave of giddy excitement wash over her. A few years back, Rosa would have left without a word – well, except for the threat to ruin Amy’s life if she ever mentioned those allergies to anyone. Now Rosa was one of her best friends and Amy knew that she felt the same about her. Whatever was going on with her sleuth sister, they were going to take care of it together. Because that’s what friends did.

(Part of Amy hoped the reason for her sleuth sister’s turmoil wasn’t just Rosa’s favorite motorcycle being too old for full repairs or something, although she’d take even that seriously if Rosa felt this passionate about it.)

(Because that’s what friends did.)

***

Of all the things Amy expected when entering Rosa’s apartment that night, it wasn’t a miniature tiger dashing behind the couch the moment it spotted her.

“Wait,” Amy said as she took off her jacket, “was that…?”

“Her name is Tigress. She’s been living behind the dumpster outside for the last three weeks. She killed the rats; I gave her food.”

“Oh. So, you have a cat now?”

Rosa crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter, a grim look on her face. “Tigress decided so, but then I saw a flyer for a missing cat and I’m sure it’s her. Also, pets aren’t allowed in the building. Naturally, I’m thinking about moving and just taking her with me.”

Amy peaked behind the couch. The cat was sitting there in the shadows, cleaning her gray-striped fur. Upon noticing the curious human eyes invading her privacy, Tigress hissed at her and crawled underneath the couch.

“She hates people,” Rosa explained. “We understand each other.”

“But now you have to give her back to her owner.”

Rosa grunted in reply and Amy didn’t acknowledge the heartbroken look on her face. “I don’t want to get into it right now, but… I just don’t like goodbyes when I don’t want to say them. It’s so…”

The word weak ghosted around the room, tailed by human. But if Rosa didn’t want to talk about feelings right now, there was no reason to prod. It would only lead to the night ending prematurely.

Amy walked over and carefully extended a hand, putting it on Rosa’s arm once she’d made no attempt to hiss at her or crawl underneath the couch and– yeah, Amy could guess why this cat was the perfect fit for Rosa.

“Besides, Arlo wouldn’t like smelling cat on me.”

“Arlo?” Amy frowned in confusion for a moment until she remembered. “Oh right, your dog that you never bring.” (Not that Amy would have seen much of him anyway, what with her own allergies closing up her throat and turning her eyes into puffy seas of tears within seconds.) “Wait, where is he anyway if you’re not allowed to keep pets here?”

Rosa shrugged. “Guarding my second apartment.”

“Your second– You know what, never mind.” A secret apartment really didn’t surprise her. “How can I be of help? Do you want me to accompany you to the shelter to pick out a new cat?” Even as she said it, she figured that wasn’t Rosa’s plan.

“I don’t want a replacement cat.” Rosa glanced over at the pair of glowing eyes watching them from out of their hiding spot. “I’d like you to come with me to return Tigress. I don’t want to do it alone.”

Amy felt a surge of sympathy for Rosa Diaz asking for emotional support without a lot of preamble. (And maybe a fair bit of pride at being the one the tough woman felt safe to confide in.)

“Of course.” She gave her friend’s arm a little squeeze. “Anything.”

“Thanks, Amy. Now stop touching me and help me catch the cat.”

***

The second surprise of the night came in the form of Tigress’ owner.

As Amy held the cat carrier that Rosa had bought at the nearest pet smart when they realized the cat was too fast and unwilling to stay in either their arms for longer than five seconds, Rosa knocked on the door to Rebecca Erickson’s apartment.

At first, Amy thought the woman’s last name to be a coincidence. It was possible, after all, to encounter two unrelated people with the same last name within one day in New York City.

But when Mrs. Erickson insisted that she was no longer a Mrs. since she left her husband a few months ago, Amy saw the probability dwindling that this woman wasn’t the ex-wife of the pool attendant she and Jake had met earlier that day. She decided to not mention Darius or anything related to the Pearson murder.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the fourth person in the apartment until she heard a soft curse from the direction of what she assumed was the bedroom.

She also barely took note of the general messiness of the place, starting with the array of empty coffee cups on a heavily stained couch table, or the bookshelves where cookbooks lay on top of fantasy novels and at least half the books stood upside-down, or the bowl of fruits where apples were lying right next to bananas, or the overturned basket of – as far as she could tell – both clean and dirty laundry next to the bedroom door.

And standing there, clad in a hastily overthrown bathrobe, was none other than Sam Kirkwell, head of Tropic Thunder Aqua Park. When he realized that Amy had noticed him, he quickly disappeared behind the door.

Why was Kirkwell here, she wondered with furrowed brows, with his employee’s ex-wife, the same day her supposed lover had been killed?

She barely heard Rosa talking to Ms. Erickson, too occupied with contemplating following Kirkwell into the bedroom to question him. But before she could come to a decision, Tigress – whose actual name was Bubblegum, much to Rosa’s dismay – escaped through the open window onto the fire escape. Ms. Erickson rushed to the window to scream after her but, naturally, the cat didn’t listen to the crazy woman yelling at her from the place she’d just escaped.

Ms. Erickson, now in a frantic hurry to go after her pet, pushed Amy and Rosa out of the door and left them in the hallway while dashing down the stairs, her voice echoing back up to them. “Bubblegum! Mommy’s coming for you!”

“What do you bet the cat turns up back in my dumpster later?” Rosa asked, a hint of smug amusement coating her voice, when they exited the building.

“Yeah, totally…”

“Santiago, did you even hear what I just said?”

“Huh?”

Rosa stood in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. “What’s going on?”

Amy frowned in thought and fished her phone from her pocket. “Did you see the man hiding in the other room upstairs?”

“The half-naked guy? I bet that’s her surrogate pet.”

“He’s the head of the water park where Jake and I are investigating a murder.”

Rosa shrugged. “Turns out NYC isn’t that big after all. Why, what’s got you so suspicious about this?”

Amy explained it to her while dialing Jake’s number. She couldn’t wait to get home, she needed to tell him now. If he hadn’t already picked up Mac from Karen and Roger’s place, they could still go back upstairs and talk to Kirkwell.

She let it ring for twenty seconds but Jake didn’t pick up. Maybe he was driving, maybe he was busy with Mac, maybe his phone was dead again – no, it couldn’t be, otherwise she’d have instantly reached his voice mailbox. She opened their messages to shoot him a quick text to call her back ASAP, but before she could press send, something struck her as odd.

“What is it?” Rosa asked, having noticed the look on Amy’s face.

“Jake hasn’t been online for over two hours.”

“Huh.” Rosa looked at the screen. “He’s not with Mac?”

Amy shook her head right as a message from Karen came in, asking when they’d be picking up their son. For anyone knowing her husband, him not being on his phone for this long on a regular weekday night when he was neither working nor spending time with his family was a little odd. Not impossible, but odd.

(If this were Gina, Amy would be very concerned.)

“He’s probably still at the old apartment,” she guessed. “I’ll go there and tell him about Kirkwell directly.”

“Do you want me to come with?”

“If you want company right now, of course.”

Rosa scrunched up her face in contemplation for a moment. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll just spend some time with Arlo.”

“At your secret apartment?” Amy grinned conspiratorially but Rosa took a step closer until they were almost nose to nose, putting on her threatening face.

“Tell anyone about that and I’ll disorganize every single one of your binders.”

Amy gulped. “Got it.”

Rosa drove them back to her place where Amy’s car was parked. As Amy was waving goodbye from behind the wheel, Rosa pointed at the alley next to her building. Sure enough, a gray little tiger was slinking into the alley through the shadows.

Seemed like the cat had decided where it wanted to live, Amy thought as she set out for her and Jake’s old apartment. When she arrived, she knocked on the door since she didn’t have a key for the place anymore.

“Jake? Are you there?” She knocked again. “Mr. Davies?”

She received no answer. Obviously, Jake and their landlord were long gone. The appointment for the keys had been almost three hours ago.

But when she tried calling him again, he still didn’t pick up, and the last online time stamp hadn’t changed, either.

Maybe he was with Charles, she thought, but after a quick call, that turned out to be a dead end. The same with Terry. Where the heck was her husband?

She finally pulled up the app that allowed her to see the location of his phone. She rarely used it since she always felt like a controlling wife when she did, but this time, she figured she was allowed to track him down like this.

Weird. According to the GPS data, he was at the water park. And as she walked back outside and scanned the street, his car wasn’t even here. What was he doing at the closed water park at this hour? And if it was case-related, why hadn’t he told her? He couldn’t have gone there to meet with Kirkwell, either, because that guy was currently being gross with Darius’ ex-wife. (Or not, depending on how Ms. Erickson was taking the loss of her pet for the second time.)

Her gut rumbled with suspicion. She had a weird feeling about this. So she got back in her car and drove all the way to Tropic Thunder.

And there it was, Jake’s old piece of junk of a car, alone on the huge parking lot. She glanced inside and saw his wallet, phone, and keys on the passenger seat. She tried the door. It wasn’t locked.

Suddenly, she felt the darkness of the parking lot creeping up behind her back, raising the hairs on her arms, the nearby traffic too far away to be comforting. Something was wrong here.

“Jake?” she called into the night. “Jake!”

The only one answering her was the wind rustling through a heap of old flyers on the ground, lifting some of them and carrying them across the asphalt. The water park itself was closed, of course, the only light in the building coming from the display windows next to the main entrance.

“Hello?” Again, no one answered. Jake wasn’t here. But why was his car? Moreover, why was it unlocked, with valuable possessions just lying there openly on the seat?! Messy as her husband might be, this wasn’t at all like him.

The knots in her stomach tightened as she dialed the number of their landlord. He picked up after the fourth ring, but it felt like an eternity.

“Hi, Mr. Davies. This is Amy Santiago. I’m sorry to call you at this hour but I am looking for my husband and I have not heard from him ever since he went to meet with you earlier. And I was wondering if he mentioned anything about where he was going or if he was meeting anyone later.”

“Well, no, I’m sorry” the old man on the other end of the line replied, the usually comforting effect of his gentle voice dead to Amy’s ears this time. “After we handled everything with the keys, he asked to stay a few minutes by himself, to say one last goodbye or something.”

“Can you tell me what time he left at?”

“No, I went to run a few errands while he was at the apartment and when I came back to lock up, he was gone and the apartment dark.”

Amy could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She now knew Jake had been with Mr. Davies, but she had absolutely no further lead. It unsettled her greatly.

After ending the call, she took a few minutes to breathe. No need to panic, she told herself. He was probably fine and there was a simple explanation for all this. Her gut didn’t believe her, though.

She needed answers. And she already had an idea about where to start. Taking Jake’s personal things with her and locking his car, she got back into her own, and made her way back into the city.

Back to Ms. Erickson and her secret lover.

***

Once again, it’s pain that rises him.

After a long moment, it subsides enough for him to find himself bound to a chair, zip ties cutting into his wrists and ankles. His body wants to curl into itself from the sharp tug in his stomach and his mouth tastes metallic.

He blinks his eyes open and realizes that the left one feels hot and swollen. That’s probably why he woke up this time.

The shimmers in front of his eyes are back and it’s hard to focus on the person hovering over him. He makes out words but they are slow to reach his brain. He makes the mistake of shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. Everything instantly blurs and he’s glad about the ties holding him to the arms and legs of the chair. He feels like throwing up.

Two hands reach out and shake the chair, drops of saliva landing on his face as the other person yells at him. Jake squints into the bright little light and finally understands it’s coming from a headlamp fastened to the person’s forehead.

It’s a man. The shape of his face is familiar. Jake’s ears stop ringing and he hears the voice properly now.

A particularly fast brain cell registers the familiarity, but the information doesn’t quite get through to his other cells yet.

His nose picks up the smell from earlier, his eyes scan the unfamiliar chair he’s sitting in, but the floor underneath finally breaks through the haze in his brain.

He knows. He knows where he is.

He knows the man tightly clutching a pocketknife in his hand, although the disturbingly angry expression is new.

Jake feels his breath come in a quickening pace as he fully comes to and the realization hits him at full speed.

He never left the apartment.

[exhaustedfander]

First Comes Love: Chapter 12

Oh boy, we’re getting into the final stretch of this story! Only one more chapter after this! I’d love to hear what you think.

a03 link

1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / ?

Word Count: 2,496

“What if he doesn’t show up?”

“Remus, you and I both know that’s preposterous. You two proposed to each other on the same day, for crying out loud! He’s crazy about him and you’re crazy about him. Or maybe just crazy, in general, I can never tell.” 

Remus delivered a well-deserved shove, earning an overdramatic gasp.

“Okay, but what if – what if he’s woken up and decided he doesn’t want to go through with it? What if clarity struck him that he doesn’t want this? Jesus, Roman, what if he stands me up at the alter?!”

“Easy, there, brother dear. You’re sounding a lot like Panic! At the Everywhere,” he said, placing a hand on the small of his brother’s back. Remus stared at his reflection in the mirror, cringing at the unsteadiness of his stance.

“I can’t tell if comparing me to your boyfriend is an insult or a compliment.”

“I’m saying, there’s nothing to be worried about,” Roman said as soothingly as he could manage. “You and Logan are simply meant to be,” – he sang that bit, eliciting a groan -, “To so much as think that our resident nerd would stand you up at the alter is prosperous and you know it.”

“But what if –.”

“No more ‘what ifs’, thank you very much,” Roman interrupted, “Remus, Logan is deeply, and madly in love with you. You could walk out there wearing nothing but a filthy potato sack and he’d still think you were the most beautiful thing to walk the Earth. Luckily, for a trash man, you clean up pretty nice.”

Remus stared intently at his reflection. The suit he wore was a dark forest green, the shirt beneath an only slightly more unsettling lime, the black and green tie (good lord, it was a lot of green, not that Roman was surprised) a nice striped pattern. Remus’s usually unruly hair was neatly combed, and he looked quite a bit more presentable than usual.

“You think so?” Roman couldn’t help but be stricken with a pang of surprise. Normally, Remus didn’t give two shits what anyone, save for Logan, thought about him, or his appearance for that matter. But now, in a moment of unjustified, but understandable, panic, he was genuinely asking.

“Of course I do,” Roman said, taking his hand off of his twin’s back, “You look wonderful, Remus. And – we’re twins, so I’d be a little concerned if you looked that much worse than me.”

“Everyone knows I’m the better looking one,” Remus said, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. Roman barked out a laugh.

“We’re identical!”

“And yet my point still stands.” Roman huffed out a breath.

“I’m supposed to be the cocky one, I’m supposed to be the romantic one, stop stealing my bits!”

“And yet you’re still not engaged. Before we know it, your dear emo nightmare will have been swept up by another, far better man.” The smile that stretched across Roman’s face is sure to spell trouble. “Okay, why are you looking at me like that? Did you guys get engaged and not tell me? Because if so, fuck you.” Roman stuck a hand in his pocket, fishing out a ring box.

“Is that so?” Roman asked, popping the box open and showing his brother the amethyst ring inside.

“Son of a bitch, you’ve finally decided to stop being such a little pussy, huh?” This time Remus was the one who received the shove.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll propose to him in the middle of your wedding.” Remus narrowed his eyes.

“I would kill you where you stood.”

“You’re all talk, brother dear.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus asked, uncapping the green nail polish he’d applied to his finger and waving the brush near Roman. “Keep talking like that and the suit gets it!” Roman pressed a hand to his chest, glaring at his twin.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Remus glared right back.

“Try me, bitch.” Roman scoffed, holding his hands in the air, backing away from Remus who was still dangerously wielding the polish.

“Okay, okay, I surrender!” Roman said, hands guarding the front of his ruby red suit, “I’m not actually going to propose to Virgil at your wedding, for God’s sake.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“You wound me!” Roman squawked before he caught sight of the look in his twin’s eyes. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. This is one of the best days of your life! You get to promise your undying love for one of my best friends, which can admittedly still be kind of weird to think about, but it’s great! You guys are great. A power-couple, as far as I’m concerned.” Remus’s lips curled into a faint grin.

“Yeah… we are pretty great, huh? I didn’t… I never thought I was the kind of person to get married. I was sure it was the bachelor’s life for me, y’ know? I figured I was always gonna end up alone.” Roman placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, compassion glimmering in his eyes.

“But you haven’t,” Roman reminded, “You aren’t alone anymore, Remus. You have Logan, and me, and our friends. You’ll never have to be alone again. You –,” Roman paused his speech, seeing tears beginning to haze Remus’s vision, “Oh no you don’t! I just did your makeup, and I refuse to have it ruined before the ceremony has started. Don’t you dare get all soft on me.” Remus sniffed.

“I – I can’t help it. Before, I was all angsty thinking I was some kind of fucking lone-wolf or something, and then I met Logan. And – and you were back in my life, and I had friends, and – everything’s so different, Ro. It’s a g-good different, but still… still weird, sometimes.”

“And you can cry about it later!” Roman insisted, earning a watery chuckle from Remus. “Stop it or you’ll get me starting too, and you’ll be late for your own damn wedding.”

Remus and Logan had only been engaged for five months, yet the wait had been grueling. Honestly, when they woke up the morning after their engagement, there was a moment where they, briefly, considered a Courthouse Wedding.

“We could be married tomorrow,” Remus had said, “Wouldn’t that be fucking awesome?”

“It would be nice to call you my husband as soon as possible,” Logan had said, despising the fact that he was actually considering it.

“Oooh! We could get married in Vegas! Drive down, get hitched, and get rich!” Logan had rolled his eyes, though the gesture was full of nothing but fondness.

“That’s a terrible idea and you know it. Also, you're a terrible gambler."

“C’mon, Dragonfly, live a little!”

“We’re not getting married in Los Vegas.”

“Ugh, fiiiiine. But you’re no fun!” Logan had chuckled at that, pressing a kiss to Remus’s lips.

“So I’ve been told.”

In the end, the couple decided that a proper wedding was what they wanted, even if it meant they’d have to wait a little bit longer to officially call themselves husbands. They wanted their friends to be a part of the celebration, and while they were by no means looking for opulence, a fairly nice venue was on their wish-list.

The one they’d found was outdoor, near a gorgeous lake with sprawling greenery and they couldn’t be happier with it. In all honesty, Remus would be content with marrying Logan in a rat-infested dumpster so long as he promised to be his, but that wouldn’t exactly be ideal.

But now, here he was, about to tie the knot in a beautiful location, about to promise forever to the love of his life. Remus figured he was allowed to freak out, at least a little bit.

“It’s just about time to go,” Roman said after Remus had a few more minutes to collect himself, “Are you ready?” Remus took a steadying breath, giving his reflection a final once-over before nodding, his head bouncing up and down a touch too erratically.

“Yeah… yeah, okay, I’m ready.”

If someone had told Remus a few years ago that his brother would walk him down this aisle at his wedding, he would’ve called them crazy. But now, stepping out into the picturesque spring day, his arm looped with Roman’s, he couldn’t be any more grateful.

The music swelled as the twins walked down the aisle. Remus’s eyes grazed over the guests, his wonderful friends looking back at him with so much love. And then, his eyes met Logan’s, and his heart stopped.

Logan wore a Navy-blue suite, his tie a pink and aqua floral pattern. Logan was often so insistent on the fact that his wardrobe, especially as a teacher, was to make him look as professional as possible (aside from the Unicorn onesie, but that was rarely spoken about), so he usually forwent wearing fun patterns. Seeing him now, though, Remus would have to make a point to mention how amazing he looked in it. How amazing he looked in general.

“Hey,” Remus said quietly, once the chatter of the guests had died down and the minister began speaking. Logan gave him a look that absolutely melted his heart into a gooey, sticky mess (Remus wondered what it would look like if a human heart really did melt. It would be fantastically gorey!) and muttered his own greeting. It took absolutely every ounce of Remus’s self-control not to grab Logan by the lapels and kiss him with every intense, sappy emotion that roared inside of him.

“We are gathered here today to witness the union of Remus Knightly and Logan Sanders,” the minister announced, but immediately, Remus felt like his ears were plugged up with cotton. All he could focus on was Logan, stunning, incredibly, way too hot for his own good, Logan. The sun shone down on them, bathing his fiancé in a light he dared to call heavenly as if all that touched Logan was divine. Remus certainly thought so. So much as looking at him was prompting tears, but it seemed Logan wasn’t in much better shape, his eyes becoming misty behind his glasses.

Remus was only able to snap out of once Logan began to deliver his vows, desperately wanting once again to kiss him breathless.

“Remus, I’ve told you innumerable times how much I struggle to comprehend my emotions,” Logan began, his voice already beginning to waver, “for so long, I considered feelings the bane of my existence. It didn’t make any sense to me, and it all felt so complicated and strange. Today, not much of that has changed. I still struggle greatly with comprehending my emotions. But that doesn’t distract from the fact that I am madly, frantically in love with you.

“Before you, I never imagined what it would be like to wake up beside someone and feel… such unabashed joy. You make me laugh, utilizing a sense of humor I never thought I would indulge in. You make me feel so good about myself, just by being yourself,” Logan said, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks, though Remus wasn’t too far behind him, “You’ve taught me so much, my love, and you’ll never know the extent of how much you mean to me.

“I cannot imagine anything better than calling you, my husband. Domesticity is not something I considered for myself but now – now I crave it. I want to wake up beside you every day of my life. I want to watch documentaries together and cuddle on the couch, I want you to read me your books in every voilent detail, I want to kiss you for as long as I’m able. I love you, Remus Demetri Nightly, with every bit of my being, and to be yours is something I know is one of the best things to happen to me.”

“F-fuck, Dragonfly, how the hell am I gonna get through this after that?” Remus asked through a watery laugh. Thirty minutes ago, Remus was terrified of the eyes that would be on him, and the prospect of Logan deciding he didn’t want this after all but standing before him, such fears dissipated.

“You’re perfect,” Remus said, taking one of Logan’s hands in his own, “You’re absolutely perfect, and I’m never going to stop saying it. You’re the smartest, most beautiful, incredible person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and sometimes, I still can’t believe you fell for me. I hadn’t been happy for so long before I knew that, and y-you brought me so much joy, the moment you were in my life.

You’ve brought me love, a feeling I d-didn’t know I was capable of truly feeling. You brought my brother back to me,” Roman was sobbing somewhere in the crowd, his fingers laced tightly with Virgil’s, “You’ve brought light into my life. I didn’t know if I’d ever be hopeful again b-but I am! I’m hopeful for the life we’ll lead, f-for the things we’ll do. I’m hopeful for anything, as long as I’m with you. I love you Logan Sanders, and I’ll tell you every chance I get for as long as I can. I’ll do everything I can to give you the world, because you deserve it, e-every bit of it.”

Tears rolled down both of their faces, their smiles unbreakable. There was an exchange of rings, slipped onto their fingers, and glimmering in the sunlight.

“Do you, Logan Sanders, take Remus Sanders to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” Logan nodded; his teary eyes trained on Remus.

“I do.”

“Do you, Remus Knightly, take –.”

“Yes, of course, I fucking do!” Remus interrupted, earning a laugh from several of the guests. The officiant sighed, rolling with it.

“By the power vested in me, I pronounce you Husband and Husband. You may kiss the groom.”

Remus surged forward, his hands gripping Logan’s tie and pulling him into a deep kiss, the cheering of the guests ringing in their ears.

Later, there would be tearful speeches and endless hugs. Roman would give a sappily embarrassing best man's speech (And not propose to his boyfriend at Remus’s wedding, thank god. He’d wait another day to do that) that made Remus’s fondness and annoyance of his brother swell in tandem. Later, Remus would shove cake with green and blue icing in Logan’s face, only to earn the same fate. Later, they’d share their first dance under the moonlight, hoping for a lifetime of shotty footwork and stifled laughter. Impressively, Remus only stepped on Logan’s feet twice. Later, they’d do so much more, accomplish all that they wanted.

Now, though, they embraced, holding each other as though they’d disappear the moment they let go.

“I love you, Logan Knightly-Sanders,” Remus whispered in his ear, kissing him ardently.

“And I love you, Remus Knightly-Sanders,” Logan responded, intent on never stopping kissing if he could help it.

=+=

Taglist:

@nadiestar 

@unoriginalgayboyalex 

@maryann-draws

Please, let me know if you’d like to added to my general taglist! I’d be happy to add folks! 

[jaybeartodd]

Colleagues Pt. 11/17 -- Jason Todd x fem. reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 1954

Tags: @sarcasmismyfirstlove @tsctd @multi-fandom-dumpster

A/N: Here we goooo! I would like to say a quick thank you for how nice everyone is. It’s amazing really. A quick shoutout to @tsctd for being so freaking lovely! Your comments make my day, make my life, and all that jazz. Lots of love <3 <3 p.s. I am so glad you caught my Homecoming reference!! When I was writing it I was like honestly that is exactly how I would react so bam it made it in!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

“Oh no, Bats is going to be pissed,” a voice causes you and Jason to jump. You see Nightwing staring uneasily at the two of you. You squint your eyes.

“Shit, Dick?! Is this your idea of family bonding? Oh holy hell, the robins...Bruce? I was filing documents for Batman?...Damian?! Well actually, no that one makes sense...” you continue your tangent as the pieces fall into place. The boys stare at you; the blue one is fascinated by the train of thought while the red one is still slightly nervous for what this means in regards to your relationship. He just got you and he did not want this to compromise what may be the greatest thing since a burger he had shared oh so many years ago. Not that anyone needed to know any of the former information.

“Y/N,” Jason gently grabs your wrists. You shut your mouth and look at him with wide eyes. He grimaces as he sits up to be level with you.

“I know this is a lot to take in but we aren’t exactly in My Boyfriend is a Superhero Anonymous right now so maybe moving to a safer location...” he stands up and pulls you up with him.

“Boyfriend?” you and Dick ask at the same time earning an eye roll from Jason.

“How’s the head?” you ask Jason. You three are currently walking down the alleyways of Gotham remaining hidden in the shadows. The boys had opted to take the logical route of rooftops to get there but not everyone in the current party is a freak of nature so here you are.

He rubs it self-consciously and winces. “A bit sore.”

“You shouldn’t have gone man. I tried warning you,” Dick says with an authority of an older brother.

Jason sighs and looks at you. 

“I wasn’t planning on ever engaging. It was supposed to be a see-and-leave mission. But circumstances,” his gaze lingers on you before returning to in front of him, “called for a bit of whoop ass.”

“Yeah your ass maybe,” you grumble and Dick chuckles. 

“Saving your ass might I remind you,” Jason snaps back and you glare at him.

“I had it under control,” he scoffs at this, “Well mostly, but obviously the explosion wasn’t meant for me. Why were you even there?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen let’s take a deep breath,” Dick says and you cross your arms in frustration. 

“I got a tip from one of the men who work with Black Mask...”

“That I said was fake just as an FYI,” Dick interjects.

“Anyways,” Jason continues shooting Dick a look of annoyance, “They said he was picking up information at that location so technically true.”

“But also technically true is that the man sold you out. I haven’t been in this business long but seems like a rookie move to me,” you snap.

“Almost like meeting a Black Mask goon in an abandoned warehouse with fake information. Oh and your brother was almost beaten to death by the same men. You mean like that?”

“What was I supposed to do Jason?” You stop in front of him in official anger.

“Tell me!” he yells. You laugh without humor.

“Yeah sure. Was this supposed to be before or after you told me you were the Red Hood?” 

“Damn, barely dating and you already sound like an 80-year-old couple. Would you just both admit you are stressed and taking it out on each other?” Dick asks exasperatedly.

“Besides you have bigger fish to fry,” Dick says and you both look at him curiously.

“How are you going to tell Bruce the cat is officially out of the bag?” You both grimace. Work just got a whole lot more awkward.

“Jason you were explicitly told not to do anything with this case without backup. That was our deal...” Bruce’s voice trails off in your head as you stand spinning in a circle in the freaking batcave. Your attention is brought back when you hear Nick’s name.

“Wait, you knew Nick was working for Black Mask?” you ask walking up to the arguing men. 

“Yes, when I went undercover I saw Nick. But,” Jason says stopping you from yelling at him, “I did not know he was your brother until he came to pick you up from the hospital if that was your next accusation.”

You close your mouth and pout your lip in anger. 

“Your brother is tangled up in a very intricate plot and unfortunately-”

“Wait, what is that?” you interrupt Bruce when you notice something over his shoulder. In front of an exhausted Tim there is about fifty different screens but one is currently captivating your attention. You walk over and Tim looks at you curiously. You point a finger at a map digitally drawn with pinpoints in a familiar pattern.

“Uh, those are the places where Scarecrow has recently been seen,” 

You run over to your book bag you had thrown haphazardly and start to shuffle through the books. You yank out the map you and Nick had created and smack it against the screen. The dots are all in similar places give or take a few blocks.

“These are where Nick has dropped off Roman for ‘business meetings’.”

The men’s eyes widen as they take closer looks of their own. 

“That would explain Black Mask’s sudden increase of henchmen and weapons.” Bruce says. Jason nods and turns to you with a smirk.  

“Who knew Dopey was such a Nancy Drew.” You roll your eyes at him and put your hands on your hips.

“So what does this mean? Scarecrow and Black Mask have created their own sisterhood?” Jason quips. 

“But why?” Bruce asks and sits down in a chair; chin in hand and brow furrowed.

“Well we know Black Mask is after Wayne Enterprises because you bought him out. But since when does Crane give a rats ass about Bruce Wayne?”

Your phone suddenly rings making you jump. You take it out hoping to silence it but freeze when you realize it’s a blocked number.

“It’s Black Mask,” you say nervously and Jason looks at you concerned.

“Try and stay on the phone with him as long as you can. I will run a trace and send it to Nightwing.” Tim says already typing away at his computer.

You gulp and hit the answer button.

“Good to hear your voice sweetheart,” a robotic voice says. 

“What do you want?” you ask bitterly.

“Put the claws away. I simply wanted to thank you for the information. You are a true hero to Gotham.” You look up at the men currently in your company and hold back a laugh.

“Yeah just get me some tights and a cape,” you grumble glancing at the men in front of you.The man in the phone snickers.

“That would make you a hypocrite Y/N and we both know you are better than that.” Your skin crawls at the way he speaks as if he knows more about you than he is letting on. 

You look towards Tim desperately and he nods his head.

“Is that all?” 

“Keep the vigilantes at home next time or your family will learn a real lesson in tragedy.” the phone clicks off and you stare at it. The warning rings loud in your head.

The phone is lowered by another hand and you look up just as Jason pulls you in for a hug. You squeeze your eyes shut against his chest as he squeezes you tight to him. 

You don’t stop the tears this time. You finally let the past month's struggles come into view and break down in Jay’s arms. It feels like no matter what you do, your family will never be safe again. 

You walk back into the batcave several hours later after informing Nick of the current situation...minus the part about your residence in Batman’s manor. So a very condensed version.

You hear the buzz of electrical work before you see Jason hunched over his damaged helmet. He crosses wires creating a zap and a loud exclamation of curses. 

“Maybe you should be wearing some gloves or something,” you say quietly from behind him and he jumps up dropping his tools to the ground.

You chuckle at the irony.

“Now who’s the clumsy one?” you say leaning against a table. He returns with a worried smile.

“How are you?” he asks walking up to you. He rests his hands on both sides of the table you are leaning on, his arms creating a barrier around you.

“Great, Nick believed our story we created and Trey is still sound asleep,” Jay shakes his head and you look at him quizzically.

“No, I want to know how you are doing. Not everyone else,” he says leaning his face close. You sigh and nod.

“I am actually doing ok,” you say completely honest. The sudden burst of emotion earlier was a partial resolve to the mess that is your life.

He grins. “Good.” he closes the distance and kisses your lips softly.

“What’s this?” he reaches for your hand and grabs the ice pack from it.

“Oh, this is for your head. You took a pretty nasty blow earlier and I thought this would help with the pain a little.” You say innocently and he smiles. He puts it to his head.

“Were you planning on ever telling me?” you quietly ask and he looks away. With a sigh, he shifts the ice pack on his head and leans against the table with his helmet.

“I almost did, the first day we met.” he admits. 

“Wait, what? Really?” you ask completely baffled.

“Yes,” he turns his blue eyes back towards you, “I thought ‘wow this girl is super amazing and fierce and I am just some idiot spoiled kid she works with’. I wanted to tell you so you could know I am more than that but also so I would think I deserved someone like you.”

You are taken aback by his confession. It is true that he got off on the wrong foot but it is hard to wrap your mind around the fact that he thought so much of you and so little of himself.

“Jay,” you walk up to him and gently grab his face, “Don’t be an idiot.” 

He tilts his head and scrunches his eyebrows obviously expecting a kinder approach.

“I like Red Hood just fine, even for that weird helmet phase, but it is Jason Todd who has been there for me and my family through these past hellish weeks. It is Jason Todd that I am falling for.” 

His smirk returns to his face as he plays with the belt loops of your jeans with his left hand and the other one still holding the ice pack.. You kiss him hard and then wrap your arms around his torso.  

“Please promise more moments like this,” he mumbles and you hug him tighter.

You know you can’t make any promises while Black Mask and Scarecrow is targeting your family. But you can enjoy this feeling for as long as it will last. You suddenly let go and smirk at him seductively. He looks at you curiously.

“So what were those better things than going to the library?” his eyes widen and the ice pack falls to the ground. You laugh as he tugs you by your hand out of the batcave until you come crashing into his room. 

You fall asleep that night to the rhythm of Jay’s bare chest rising and falling as he strokes your hair. Momentary bliss existing within a freak show. 

[ecotone99]

[MF] Heidi Gardner

The Flight

Somehow, LAX seemed completely transformed. I knew they were doing renovations, but I didn’t know it’d be so...complete. Throughout my life, I knew the airport to be simultaneously over-sanitized and gross. It was like a clean trashcan, I guess, Lysol fresh, but still a trash can. You didn’t exactly want to stick your hands in it, but if you accidentally dropped like, a wallet or an unwrapped packet of gum that you forgot in your shopping bag in it, you’d reluctantly fish it out.

As my sister drove me through the massively tall stone entryway on LAX that fateful morning five years ago, I had a feeling that I was in for an entirely different experience. It almost felt like I was entering the gates of a modern Hogwarts. It felt like a holy place.

“So where exactly are you going again?” my sister glanced sideways at me, her brown eyes only vaguely interested.

“Chicago. Field trip for school.” I replied.

“Fucking field trip. What the hell.”

“Welcome to grad school. Nothing but expenses.”

“Why would anyone want to leave California anyway? We have everything here.” She made it sound sarcastic, but I knew she wasn’t joking. Mostly, I agreed with her. I liked travelling, but California was home. I sometimes imagined myself living somewhere else, like New York, or New Orleans, or Portland or Denver, but by the end of the daydream, I always settled back into my reality, the Golden State, comfortable and immovable.

We pulled up to the drop-off area. I grabbed my duffel and my carry-on and got out of the car, expressing my thanks with the promise of a Venmo transaction. She left me in front of massive, ornate wood double doors. The new appearance of LAX continued to baffle me.

The foyer featured black-and-white checkered floors, the likes of which I’d only seen on TV. Beyond the foyer, checking procedures went on as I remembered them from before, sans snotty kids and stressed parents with dead eyes. I wondered if there was a special place in the airport just for them. Somewhere with five Starbucks in a row so everyone could get their caffeine fix with minimal wait time.

I stepped up to a self-check in machine and boop-beeped until my boarding pass slid out. I rose my head to find the baggage check-in area and instead, my eyes met Katie’s. My breath caught a little.

Katie was one of my classmates. Her work was almost as perfect as her impeccable style and manner, so naturally I decided to hate her. It wasn’t rational, and I didn’t really hate her, but I felt that hating her was more bearable than being envious of her.

I mean, I knew it was my decision to dress like a Hollywood rat and bullshit my way through grad school - it didn’t seem to affect my grades negatively - but still. And now here she was, and my breath was gone?

It didn’t make sense. On top of everything, Katie looked a lot like Heidi Gardner. As much as I enjoyed Heidi Gardner on SNL, she reminded me of an old co-worker of mine that I hated, because they also looked similar. Whenever I hated someone, like truly hated someone, not envy disguised as hatred, I felt compelled to find out as much about them as was possible without actually talking to them.This also didn’t make sense. My brain was, and still is, a dumpster fire.

Point is, it made no sense to me that my breath would be taken away by this goody-two shoes that looked like Heidi Gardner/my ex-coworker.

I think it was the uniform. I had always been a sucker for uniforms, and Katie was wearing what appeared to be the new LAX employee garb: a red and gold bellhop-y getup, complete with the bellhop-style hat. It was cute. My mind rushed back to days in class when I sat behind Katie, her yellow hair cascading down her back. I thought of the way she smelled when she’d pass by, like fresh rain on spring grass, and it hit me like a ton of molasses. Clearly I was not just envious of Katie, and I definitely did not hate her in the slightest. I had a crush on her, and hadn’t realized it until just then. Fun. Shit.

“Hey Camille! Wow, ready to get to Chicago?” she said cheerily, while picking up my duffel bag.

“Hey, Katie, you don’t have to do that, I got it.” I gestured at my bag.

“It’s okay, it’s my job, and I can get it checked in really quick for you.”

“Okay...well, thanks, I apprec-”

“Aren’t you just so excited for the trip? I was a little irritated at first - losing work hours - but then again who wants to work in this dump?” She gestured at the marble columns, top shelf only bar, and Eames furniture within the pristine room.

“Not me.” I said lamely, trying to be agreeable and not fall into a stupor over her rain-grass scent.

“Yeah, I’m only here for the flyer discounts.” She checked in my bag with an attendant and then turned back to me. “My flight is at 9, about an hour after I get off my shift. When is yours?” She reached for my boarding pass. I let her take it and winced when our fingers touched.

“7:35...cool, that’s the flight just before mine! I hope you brought a book, you still have an hour before boarding.” She clapped suddenly. I started. This was entirely the wrong time to realize that I had a crush on Katie, this early in the morning, disoriented, and with her in that fucking bellhop costume. She was just too shiny, and I couldn’t focus. Suddenly I understood Nick Dunn’s dilemma when he said the same thing in Gone Girl. A person really could be too shiny, too distracting, making it impossible to fully understand their words or the situation at hand.

“I can get you a drink. On the house. Or, LAX, anyway.” she winked. “I know it’s early, but who fucking cares? We both know that this ‘field trip’ is really just going to be a vacation. Just tell me what you want and sit over there, I’ll bring it to you.” The girl was feeding me free alcohol. I fell in love a little bit.

“Wow, thanks so much...you’re...so good at your job.” I gave her a stupid thumbs up like the awkward bitch I was. She didn’t seem to notice the corn falling from the ceiling.

“Coming up.” she smiled and tripped away. Dammit, Katie/Heidi Gardner/Love of my Life, I thought, why did she affect me this way?

Because you’re gay, and a doofus, and a sucker, I reminded myself as I settled into a seat. Right, right.

A few minutes later, Katie came back and gave me the frothy whiskey sour. At least I was also having some egg that morning. I chuckled to myself at my joke. I enjoyed my jokes, even if no one else did. She wished me a good flight to Chicago, with a smile that reached her eyes, before going off back to work. The airport was starting to fill up. I drank my treat slowly, savoring every drop.

I had indeed brought a book with me for the wait. I took it out and started reading. Next thing I knew, Katie was gently shaking me awake, now dressed in light colored jeans and a striped shirt. A golden necklace dangled at her chest. She looked like she lived at The Gap.

“Camille, wake up! You missed your flight.” That couldn’t be right. I had just sat down.

“But I just sat down.” I replied thickly.

“Oh honey.”

Honey.

“It’s 8:30, hon. I would have woken you up if I knew you were asleep, but I got really busy and didn’t have time to check in on you.”

HON.

“Okay, look, I can get your flight switched to the 9am. I could even get you a seat next to me. I’m in 1st class. How does that sound?”

Perfect. Awful. Fuck. I missed my flight?

“Perfect, thank you.” I still wasn’t computing. She was doing nice things and my head felt full of rocks.

I followed Katie mutely as she fixed the flights and shepherded me through security and onto the 9am flight. Occasionally she’d touch my arm or my shoulder, and my mind’s eye saw tulips sprouting from those spots like something out of Fantasia.

Then I was sitting next to Katie in 1st class (a perk of the job, she said) and being offered a hot towel It was like something out of the movies, and I felt like an unlikely protagonist, in ripped jeans and my oversized “travelling sweater,” no makeup over acne scars, twists half unravelled under my beanie. At any rate, I didn’t look like I should be sitting next to fucking Heidi Gardner. The flight attendant offered me a drink. I refused. Clearly I couldn’t handle airline liquor.

The plane began to take off, and per usual, my anxiety broke out. My breathing became shallow. Katie noticed at once.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of flying, sweetie.”

Sweetie.

“Just take-offs and landings.” I forced a smile. It was true. When the plane was solidly in the air, I was always fine. It was just the up and down parts that got to me.

“Hey, don’t worry.” She took hold of my hand. My heart jumped like a fish. “I’ve been on like, a million flights, and I’m still here.”

���Yeah?” I decided to distract myself. “Where have you been?”

“Oh you know, the typical places. Europe, Greece, New Zealand once, Australia a couple of times.”

Right. The usual places. The farthest out of the country I had ever been was Canada, and I didn’t fly there. I remembered Katie once saying that she grew up in Manhattan Beach. Suddenly she was reminded me less of Heidi Gardner and more like my old co-worker.

“Maybe...maybe one day we can go somewhere together.” She tried for nonchalance and failed. And just like that she was Heidi Gardner again.

The plane levelled out and I started to breathe again.We talked nearly non-stop for an hour, about classes, teachers we liked and teachers we hated, and things we enjoyed. Despite our many, many physical differences, we had a lot in common. I fell into her willingly, like an Alice gleefully jumping into the rabbit hole, not giving a rat’s ass about what was at the bottom of that vertical tunnel.

“You know, I know it sucks that you missed your flight.” Katie said, somewhat jerkily. I smiled.

“It’s fine, I mean, honestly I’m kind of happy I fell asleep. I woke up with a first class ticket...with you.” She started playing with her necklace and smiled absently.

“The carton wasn’t joking when it said fast-acting. Anyway, all’s well that ends well.”

My smile froze, but didn’t disappear. The carton? What was she talking about?”

“What...carton?”

“Oh, um, for the sleeping pills.”

“Sleeping pills.”

Katie fidgeted. “Yeah. I put a couple in your drink.”

“My smile finally melted. “You...drugged me?”

She turned to me imploringly. “No I just...I just...gave you a nap.”

“You gave me a nap.”

“Yeah, and I mean you looked super peaceful.” She sat up determinedly. “Think about it this way: I gave you peace in a cup.”

I squinted at her. This was really happening.

“You,” I pointed at Katie, “put sleeping pills in my whiskey sour. You drugged me...and you’re calling it a favor.” I exploded. I couldn’t help it. “What the actual fuck, Katie?!” A few heads turned our way.

“Shh, shh, look, I just...really wanted to spend some time with you.” She blushed. “I’ve actually really liked you for a while, and then you came in, and your flight just happened to be right before mine, and I had the sleeping pills because I have trouble sleeping in hotels, and it was just such a convenient way to get you on my flight so we could hang out.” she babbled. If what she had done hadn’t been so sociopathic, it would have been almost cute.

“Alternatively,” I said, keeping my voice down, “you could have asked if i’d be willing to switch flights for an upgrade. Or you could have asked me for coffee in Chicago, or talked to me after classes, or done anything other than this, like fuck, dude, this is just so not okay!” The flight attendant passed by again. This time, I requested a jack and coke. I needed a drink. I made a mental note to myself to keep all my drinks as far away from Katie as possible.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I just never thought you’d want to willingly hang out with this.” She gestured to her perfect body. “You’re just so cool and I’m so...so meh.”

My drink came. I started drinking immediately. Clearly Katie was very insecure, especially if she thought I was the epitome of cool, or style, or whatever. I contemplated the situation. I may have looked like the epitome of Hollywood gutter dwellers, but at least I wasn’t Hollywood drama. Suddenly I felt much more favorable towards myself, even towards my raggedy travel appearance.

“I’m so sorry,” Katie said again. “Can we please just pretend it didn’t happen and start over? Maybe get lunch in Chicago? I know some great spots, and I’ll cover you.”

“Of course you know some great spots.” I grunted. “I bet you’ve been to every state in the fucking union.”

“I haven’t been to Mississippi.” Right. The one state, and consequently the only state I had been to more than twice in my life.

I drank the rest of my drink a little too quickly and choked, once again drawing the inquisitive eyes of 1st class. Rubberneckers. Katie patted my back until my coughing settled. Even after her little revelation, my mind imagined beautiful things growing where she touched me. Like said, my brain? Dumpster fire.

I looked at her and immediately wished I didn’t. All my resolve to leave 1st class and this nut altogether melted instantly. Her eyes were brimming with tears.I have always been pathetic when it came to girl tears, and Katie’s tears over her sins were no different. They should have been - the situation was egregious - but it wasn’t.

There was just something about that day, I think, seeing the new, weird LAX for the first time, realizing my crush on Katie, the anticipation and stress of travelling somewhere new, the alien experience of being in first class, that opened me up in strange and not necessarily beneficial ways. On any other day, I would have been smarter. I would have called Katie out, for her manipulation and general insanity. But as I sat with the information, with Katie falling sadly into herself, the shock started to fade and the situation almost seemed funny. It was just another surreal occurence in a surreal day.

So I said fine, and I agreed to lunch. That decision would lead to two fun, wild years, immediately followed by three that would turn my life upside-down, and a little heartbreak. I like to think that I’m smarter now, but I’m probably not. I’m not sure yet whether or not I regret it. At the very least, I’ve grown enough sense to not overlook errant manipulation in a person, especially when it shows itself squarely on impact.

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