#and I low key hope she’s singing so high school

[willowandwisteria]

idk I just love how happy so looks here :)))

[books]

Writer Spotlight: Rose Sutherland

Rose Sutherland @rosesutherlandwrites is a Toronto-based writer who grew up a voracious reader with an overactive imagination in Nova Scotia (where she once fell off a roof trying to re-enact Anne of Green Gables!). She's been to theatre school in NYC, apprenticed at a pâtisserie in rural France, and currently moonlights as an usher and bartender—in between writing queer folktales, practicing yoga, dancing, singing, searching out amazing coffee and croissants, and making niche jokes about Victor Hugo on the internet. She's mildly obsessed with the idea of one day owning a large dog, several chickens, and maybe a goat. A Sweet Sting of Salt is her debut novel.

Keep reading for more about character arcs in A Sweet Sting of Salt, Rose's favorite fanfic tropes, and some excellent reading recs 👀

Can you tell us about A Sweet Sting of Salt and how you came to write it?

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a queer (f/f) historical reimagining of the classic folktale of the selkie wife, set in 1830’s Nova Scotia. I call it a “reimagining” because while it draws on the folktale, it’s not a retelling of that tale so much as a story playing out in relation to that mythology. I’d wanted to write something centering a love story between two women for a while, but the initial spark came from a Tumblr post! It suggested the idea of selkies testifying before the UN as victims of human trafficking, which reminded me of all the things I disliked about the original folktale and its inherent darkness that is generally glossed over, starting me down the rabbit hole toward finding my own story.

How did you approach research for A Sweet Sting of Salt, and what is a favorite historical fact you learned?

I joke that I did a lot of research by osmosis: I already had a lot of base knowledge about the location, having grown up in Nova Scotia, and then set the story in a period that I’ve been absorbing information about in a low-key way for ages—1832 is also the year of the student rebellion in Les Mis, so I’ve been gleaning tidbits about this era since I first got into the musical and book back in high school. However, I had to do more specific research into things like British divorce law, period midwifery, and animal husbandry. I also visited some small, hyper-local museums on the South Shore that gave me an invaluable glimpse into daily life. I also did some fun practical research into things like “How long does it take to walk from x to y?” and “How cold IS a plunge into this body of water in March?” (Spoiler: Very.) 

A fact that fascinated me but didn’t make it into the book was that some early European settlers in the area were granted lands by luck of the draw, pulling from a deck of playing cards: Each card was assigned to a specific 50-acre lot, and whatever you pulled, you were stuck with it.

When we meet them, Jean and Muirin are isolated for different reasons. What do you hope readers still searching for their people take away from A Sweet Sting of Salt?

That there’s always hope. It’s valuable and important to keep reaching out to the world around you, to be open, and not cut yourself off—the biggest reason for Jean’s loneliness at the beginning of this story is the way she has come to keep everyone around her at arm’s length, shutting herself away out of fear, and refusing to let anyone truly get to know her because she thinks that’s the best way to protect herself from being hurt again. Reaching out to others can take a real act of courage, especially if you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but “your people” will reach back to you.

Found family elements play a strong role throughout the novel, within supernatural and mundane settings and across species. Was this something you intended from the beginning, or did this grow out of writing the relationship between Jean and Muirin?

I always intended for Jean to have a found family of this type, which is something that a lot of queer people identify with, but those bonds also got stronger and more meaningful as I wrote, especially once Jean and Muirin began growing into their own family unit—their new relationship and the real danger that comes along with it put pressures on Jean’s other relationships that I hadn’t originally considered. Disagreements with Anneke and Laurie over Jean’s choices arise from their deep concern and love for her, and her own love and care for them, reflected in her responses, is a big part of what made them feel like a real family, for me. Jean and Laurie always having each other’s backs while also being the first to call one another out on their bullshit ended up being one of my favourite dynamics in the whole book.

The selkie myth carries an inherent element of transformation. What is a character transformation you most enjoyed writing, and why?

On a character level, the change in Jean’s worldview following a conversation with her childhood sweetheart meant a lot to me—it heals an old wound for her. I love how grounded and self-assured she is afterward, in spite of the daunting task still ahead of her. But my favourite transformation to write was the antagonist’s mask-off moment, where they directly threaten Jean for the first time. It’s so sly and coded so that only she will understand the menace behind it, a real dun-duh-dunnn moment, which was a lot of fun for me—I also enjoy the foreshadowing elements in that exchange.

This is your debut novel. Did anything surprise you about getting it from manuscript to published book?

Oh my gosh, how LONG it took! After I finished the original draft and decided it was worth attempting to publish, I spent over a year revising based on my own thoughts, input from beta readers, critique partners, and my mentor, Maureen Marshall (whom I connected with through the now defunct Author Mentor Match program, and whose book, The Paris Affair—about a young gay engineer attempting to help Gustave Eiffel secure the funding to build a certain celebrated Parisian landmark— is coming out in May). After that came a full year of querying agents and getting rejected. A lot. People loved Salty but weren’t quite sure what to do with her or where the book would fit in “the market,” which was hard to deal with at the time but is hilarious in retrospect: Salty was snapped up less than a month after she finally went out on submission! But that was back in 2022, and the book is only coming out now. Publishing can be painfully slow.

You’ve written fanfic in the past—do you have a favorite fanfic trope?

I’m not sure either of these counts as a trope, but I adore a character that’s “pure of heart, dumb of ass”, and love a truly unhinged Fanon Explanation For Canon Object. As a longtime Les Mis stan, I ship Tholomyes/Getting Punched. If you know, you know.

Do you have any favorite queer retellings of folktales you can recommend?

Right here on Tumblr, I’m a huge fan of @laurasimonsdaughter, who writes delightful riffs on classic folktales, truly inventive urban fantasy spins on old lore, and her own original folktales. 

I’m currently reading Spear, an amazing queer, gender-bent, Arthurian novella by Nicola Griffiths. Anna Burke’s books Thorn and Nottingham are up next on my TBR. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant queer historicals that aren’t retellings (I recently loved Suzette Meyr’s The Sleeping Car Porter and Heather O’Neil’s When We Lost Our Heads) and wonderful historical retellings that aren’t queer (I highly recommend Molly Greeley’s beautiful, heartbreaking Marvelous, about the real-life couple that inspired Beauty and the Beast). Queer, historical retellings aimed at adults seem to be considered quite niche, still, and can take some digging to find! So, throwing this out to Tumblr: Do you have recommendations for me?

Do you have a writing routine? Is there a place/state of being/playlist you find most conducive to your writing practice?

My routine is chaotic at best, but I find I do my best work earlier in the day, so I usually scribble in my journal while I have breakfast, and then progress to working on my current project as I drink my second cup of coffee. I’m lucky—my day job is an evening gig, which mostly allows me to write on my preferred schedule… but I’ve also been known to have a bolt of inspiration strike at 10pm and dash home to write until well past midnight on occasion. Nothing quite like the hyperfocus zone!

What’s next for you? Are you working on anything you can tell us about?

No official news yet, but I’m currently working on a story set in 18th-century provincial France based on a true unsolved mystery of the past. It has me delving into a very specific branch of French folklore, and I hope future readers will pick up on common threads with one popular fairytale in particular. I’m really excited about where this one is headed, but keeping the details close to my chest for now!

Thank you Rose for taking the time to answer our questions! If you love queer fantasy and old folktales, grab yourself a copy of A Sweet Sting of Salt, and be sure to share your queer folktale reading recs with Rose on @rosesutherlandwrites!

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part eight

part nine: see you come running

Eddie was slowing realizing that introducing Robin and Nancy to the Corroded Coffin crew was the perfect way to lose all of his sanity in one go. Eddie had continued chatting with Robin and bouncing ideas off of her but nothing was clicking and Eddie finally broke down and decided the whole crew needed to come together over pizza to write and score some not cheesy but totally grand gesture worthy songs for Steve.

Eddie's label wasn't thrilled with the abrupt u-turn from an angsty heavy break up album to a single song in that vein and then sappy love songs for the rest of the album but thankfully Corroded Coffin had earned enough cachet over the years that Ronnie was able to convince the label that the songs would still have their signature flair just less angsty and more romantic -- more I would bleed for you and less I would watch eagles rip out your intestines and laugh.

As a group, Corroded Coffin was generally ambivalent towards love most of the time. Ronnie was not interested in dating much more content with her plants and foster kittens. Jeff had been dating the same girl since kindergarten basically and while she was lovely and totally worth swooning over, Jeff had gotten his cheese out early on through middle school notes passed through lockers. Frank and Gareth kind of fluctuated between meeting people at shows and trying whatever fad dating site existed for celebrities at the time but hadn't had serious partners in several years.

All that to say, Eddie was fucking banging his head against the wall for the fifth time in so many hours trying to find another rhyme for love that wasn't glove or shove and his bandmates had taken to throwing little pieces of things into his rapidly frizzing messy bun. They needed reinforcements.

By the time pizza and the girls arrived Eddie was laying upside down with his head dangling off the couch singing an over the top version of I Miss You and hoping none of his friends ever told Tom Delonge. Robin and Ronnie promptly cut him off so his hair didn’t land square in the pepperoni.

"Alright let's get the show on the road," Nancy stated after she had ushered the group together onto couches in some semblance of order after the empty pizza boxes had been bussed.

"You can't rush art, Nancy," Eddie snarked which was probably overall a little too daring based on the look Robin sent him.

"But you can actually write something down instead of flipping through Steve's instagram and sigh over his hair," Ronnie responded earning her a high five from Robin.

Nancy had brought over a big flipchart and colored pens and was starting to jot down ideas that were being thrown around the room. So far Eddie had added a doodle of himself looking up at Steve but hadn't really contributed anything else to the board.

"What are you guys known for?" Robin asked.

"Uhm mostly spooky shit and more recently a break up song that low key ruined my life?" Eddie answered.

"What Eddie means to say is that we generally write fantasy based albums that have some sort of an overall theme or story and tend to be a heavily metaphored summation of something one of us was dealing with," Ronnie clarified after thumping Eddie on the back of his head.

"Examples?" Nancy asked.

"So our debut album was basically growing up in our small town and not fitting in but told through the metaphor of the nine circles of hell," Jeff piped in.

"Definitely aren't beating the satanist allegations back home, fam," Gareth chimed in from the kitchen.

"Okay so why don't we do Steve and Eddie's story through a metaphor y'all haven't done yet. Greek myth?" Robin suggested.

"Already done that," Ronnie answered.

"Lord of the Rings vibes?" Nancy threw out.

"Second album," Frank answered.

"Constellations?" Robin asked.

"Fourth album," Jeff said.

"Okay well what haven't you done?" Nancy was growing impatient with twenty questions.

"Eddie, I think it might be time to pull out the original Munson Mythology," Gareth said through a mouthful of cold pizza.

"I feel like there's a story there," Robin prodded.

"I mean, kind of. So I think y'all might know some of this but my family is mostly from Appalachia and I moved with my uncle to a bigger city where I met the rest of these guys so he could get a job at the plant instead of in the coal mines. We all became friends because we were part of a ttrpg group in school and I ran a campaign based a lot on the old stories Uncle Wayne used to tell me about the mountains. It became nicknamed the Munson Mythology and we've been thinking about putting it into an album basically since we started but I could never get it to sit right and our label wasn't the most excited about americana and metal," Eddie summarized as succinctly as he could.

"I think we could get them around to it now. Especially with how popular the single got. We could do a whole like americana cryptid vibe and keep it kind of spooky but ultimately romantic," Ronnie added.

"No pressure though, Eddie. I know Steve is already a personal subject matter but talking about your family lore adds a whole 'nother layer. We'd understand if you wanted to go another direction," Jeff said.

"I think I might be ready for it, guys. I mean Steve's the closest I've come to finding home outside of the mountains and it's something different than we've done before. I think Gare might be right. It's probably time," Eddie said.

"Then I guess we are writing a metal appalachian love story, friends," Robin clapped her hands as if to indicate it was time to get to work.

"Alright, Eddie. Time to tell us some stories," Nancy said.

"What do y'all know about skinwalkers?" Eddie asked as he settled in to tell some folktales.

***

through a random twist of events (aka someone actually wanting to find my fic which holy crap is so flattering omg) i've come back to this work. thanks anon for kicking me back into this au which is so fun to write. the boys will be back together soon just wanted to add some buddy hijinks as i think Ronnie and Robin would be cautious besties and i wanted to see that happen.

also it's been over two months since i worked on this so if you see plot holes no you didn't. one of these days i will put this up on ao3 and go through and make sure i'm consistent with everyone's backstory but for now just go with it. :p

it is a truth universally acknowledged for some reason i absolutely suck at tagging. i think i have been consistent but all these parts should be tagged "was it over then ficlet" if you have trouble finding them. i also might have to work on a master list situation as i will probably not get better at tagging anytime soon. but here we go:

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast

@mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 @adealwithher @practicallybegging

@lunaraquaenby @stripey82 @lexyvey @goodolefashionedloverboi @mothmamhasyourlocation @mugloversonly @sherrylyn0628 @steddieinthesun @wonderland-girl143-blog @counting-dollars-counting-stars @bookworm0690

@knightly-reblogs @rjwinterfell @kcsplace @y4r3luv @thedragonsaunt

[callieazswife]

Invisible String

Chapter 1

"— Time, mystical time, cuttin' you open, then healin' you...—" you sing softly as you finish sweeping your room. Feeling exhausted, you grab your things, ready for one of those long, luxurious showers.

You found it odd when your mother mentioned going out with your brother, but you silently thanked the universe for the rare moment of solitude.

You’re about to pick the perfect playlist for your shower when you hear a loud noise outside your apartment. You try to remember if you locked the door when you came back from school, but your thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell—a doorbell that never works but, for some miracle today, decides to ring.

You freeze for a moment, pretending you aren’t home. You start dressing again, because if a burglar decides to come in, you don't want to be caught as you came into this world. After slipping your clothes back on, you quickly send a message to your mom, asking where she is.

Slowly, you walk towards the door and peer through the peephole, trying to see how many people are standing on the other side.

This can’t be real.

It’s impossible.

You must be losing your mind.

You need to call a hospital.

You check again to be sure.

What you see confirms it—it’s not just your imagination. It’s real... or maybe you’re in one of those vivid dreams.

The doorbell rings again, and you gather all the courage you have to open the door for the three Illyrians standing outside your apartment.

Deep breath.

One.

Two.

Three.

You close your eyes and turn the key, but instead of opening the door all the way, you just peek your head out and look down at their boots first.

“Hello, how can I help?” you ask, trying to sound as pleasant as possible, hoping they don’t sense how incredibly nervous you are. After all, it’s not every day you see someone with wings.

“Y/N?” How the hell does he know your name?!

You close the door briefly, then open it fully this time.

Your eyes dart to the faces of the warriors in front of you. Azriel’s short black hair and hazel eyes. Rhysand’s matching dark hair and striking violet eyes. Then, you force yourself to look at the third one—the one you secretly adored from the books. Cassian. His black hair brushes his neck, and his light brown eyes... they’re captivating. More stunning than anything you could have imagined.

The way Cassian looks at you feels different—intense. You notice the small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He’s gorgeous in a way that words could never describe, and your heart pounds in your chest as you take him in.

"I think she didn't hear," Cassian mutters to Rhysand, his voice low, teasing, followed by a soft chuckle.

"No, I didn’t hear. Forgive me, High Lord—" You blurt out without thinking. High Lord? That doesn’t even exist here. It was so instinctive, you’re not sure if he noticed.

“We need to talk. It's about you” Rhysand says with an authority that leaves you feeling a bit unsteady. His voice is powerful, something you’ve never experienced before, and it makes you instinctively shrink back, your gaze falling to your feet.

If this is a dream, I’ll wake up once they’re inside. You step aside and gesture for them to come in with a shaky hand.

Rhysand is the first to step inside, his sharp eyes scanning the apartment. You think, this can’t be real, and tears prick your eyes because these are your favorite fictional characters. There’s no one else who made you feel the way they did when you first read their story.

As the three giants walk into your living room, you close the door behind them. Now I’ll wake up.

But you don’t, and instead, there’s a strange flutter in your mind. You know exactly what’s happening.

“Hey, stop trying to get into my head. That’s kind of invasive, you know?” you say to Rhysand, trying to mimic his commanding tone. Surprisingly, it works—they all look at you, startled.

“How do you know I was trying to enter your mind?” Rhysand asks, genuinely curious.

“Feeling a tickle in your brain isn’t exactly normal,” you murmur with a hint of sarcasm. You look at them, and they look back at you like you’re some kind of rare animal.

“Please stop looking at me like I’m some exotic creature,” you say, heading to your room and closing the door behind you.

[saltygilmores]

THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: S3/EP4/ONE’S GOT CLASS THE OTHER ONE DYES (PART 2)

Luke and Lorelai both have "unique" approaches to conducting business, I'll give them that. This chapter was rough for me to write for some reason and then I LOST my draft partway through and had to rewrite everything! Some things that are happening:

-Lane attempts to initiate a conversation with Mrs Kim about her new band. She loses her courage before Mrs. Kim presents her with applications to strict Christian colleges. -Michel suggests that the honor of being named a Successful Person in Business is a low bar to clear when Lorelai's only business competitor in Stars Hollow is a presumably homeless and/or mentally ill fellow who scours the streets for change with a metal detector. I mean, yeah, he has more ambition and a better work ethic than Lorelai does.

-Luke is reluctant about the speaking gig and Lorelai threatens to embarrass him by singing badly in public if he does not comply. He may as well refuse since she's going to embarrass him on a daily basis no matter what he does anyway? -Luke says he went to Stars Hollow High for three years. Huh? I thought he's lived in The Hollow his entire life? High school is four years long. Did he move, drop out or graduate early? No explanation was given at this point in time.

-Luke has "no good memories" of high school. Join the club. -Luke asks Lorelai if she's ever been diagnosed with a psychiatric disorder. No, the answer you're looking for is no. She is unmedicated and dangerous.

My beloved Tomatos Sign is missing! You'd think it was because after 3 years the prop department noticed the spelling error and took it down to fix it. You would be wrong. It'll return shortly to be Tomatos for several more years. Should I ask that Valerie Campbell lady (as "key set designer" is her title, I believe) why it took 5+ years for someone to notice one of the most visible props for the entire run of the series had a spelling error?

Lane is interesting. Yes, she is naive in many ways, that's a given with her upbringing. But she is also painfully self aware and highly intelligent. She is definitely not stupid. She fully realizes how desperately boxed in she is by her neurotic mother. She makes the effort and takes risks to live life on her own terms even though it usually seems futile and AmyShermanPalladino is always lurking around a corner waiting to shatter all her hopes and dreams. Rory on the other hand is such a pathetic people pleaser and so desperate to keep her mother happy that I think she's blind to the fact that she's actually in a similar situation, Lorelai just masks it under the veneer of being a "cool young mom" and Rory is content to remain more stagnant. I have more thoughts on this subject but let's not make this into a rambly mess. On with the ShitCircus.

I can't believe it looks there's another fucking festival going on in the background. I am grateful some of these seasonal events exist because it helps me keep track of where we are in the year. There's pumpkins, it's fall, the Thanksgiving episode is still a ways away so I can assume it’s early October and Rory would have just had her 18th birthday.

Lane and Rory on their way to harrass Queen Shane at her place of employment. Minimum wage in 2002 was $5.15, by the way. Look at that Rory, someone your age has a JOB that makes MONEY.

Stars Hollow, the land where nobody has seen a tv show produced after 1975 but the references to modern pop and rock music flow like wine.

Alexis really does have some spectacular defeated/fed up with everything facial expressions in her acting playbook.

Sure her customer service skills aren't the greatest, but if Lorelai Gilmore is allowed to leave work in the middle of the day to shop for coffins then Shane should be allowed to read a Seventeen behind the counter and ignore Rory. Her manager, Cynthia, is pretty chill and will look the other way if Shane slacks off. Reminder that while Rory knows who Shane is, Rory has barely been a glint in the corner of Shane's eye. Any time that Shane and Rory have shared the same space, it's been when Shane runs into the diner, makes out with Jess, and doesn't look back. Because she is a god damn superhero.

It's unlikely Jess and Shane ever use their tongue for talking either so I doubt Jess has told her who Rory is. So to Shane Rory is just some random customer who is staring at her weirdly like she's trying to melt her with her eye-beams.

Look at that exemplary customer service. Better crown her Employee of the Month now, before Jess offs her and throws her in the lake next month.

Dirty white aprons with tomato can accessories are the newest sensation on the 2002 Paris Runways. Luke Danes, fashion icon. Time to go to class. Lorelai is there to play Fashion Fairy Godmother. Upstairs we go to get him out of that sweaty flannell.

That's so filthy. L&L barge into the apartment without knocking to find Jess in the middle of pulling up his pants. Walking into any room that a teenage boy might occupy is a risky game, but Interruption seems to be Lorelai's biggest kink.

I know Jess is just a poor little street urchin but can we get him some clothes that fit for once? In 2002 Milo was so smol a stiff breeze could have blown him away. He's wearing a belt and it's not working. Those pants are so baggy they could fit 3 Milos in them. Not that I would mind if his pants fell down. Looks we're on Gilmore Girls Time today, where down is up and right is left as Luke and Lorelai are about to give speeches at Stars Hollow High in the middle of the school day but Shane, Lane, Rory and Jess are not in school and no one cares, so it's Who The Fuck Knows O'Clock.

Stars Hollow High: Jess is not graduating because he never went to class. Luke: How could I possibly know that? Jess settles into a chair with a chemistry textbook. Our Child Labor Kingpin here Luke Danes tells him to go help Cesar downstairs. Jess says his education is more important than Luke's desire to use his nephew for cheap child labor. Luke disagrees. Luke goes to change in his bedroom leaving Lorelai, Jess, and a cloud of awkard silence to mingle in the other room. Luke has a book on his shelf called "Forty Days" but i can't find anything with that title. It sounds kinda erotic, tbh. Lorelai says she's gone swimming with Luke and has seen him shirtless before. Que? Jess: Have you seen him with his shirt off lately? He's really let himself go. Lorelai: *Sneers and ignores him. (to Luke): And lose the baseball hat! Jess: I think his head will fall off without it. Lorelai (snarkily): I think he'll be okay. You wanted Jess to talk, right? You're going to continue bitching to everyone you know that Jess Mariano only speaks in grunts like a caveman unlike your little fucking English scholar there Dean Forrester, right? He just lobbed you two funny quips in a row (and you love funny quips!) but now you're silent and giving him a dirty look and a nasty attitude. WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT, WOMAN? MAKE UP YOUR MIND! WHY SO SILENT QUIPPY! WHAT DID THIS CHILD EVER DO TO YOU!

I'm just gonna sit here and read my little Chemistry book, and one day I'm gonna make 40 kajillion dollars when my books are made into blockbuster movies, and I will own you, Aunt Lorelai. I will own you.

Lorelai doing the Fry squint at Jess when he asked if something was wrong, because she refused to make conversation with him.

Speaking of Gilmore Girls Time. Let's stop the clock for a minute here. Moments ago, Shane was at work. She rang up Rory and Lane, and they left immediately. The scene then cuts to Lorelai entering the diner and then after he gets a brief lecture about his clothing choices, Lorelai and Luke start to head upstairs so he can change. In order for Closet Girl to be Shane, her shift would have ended seconds after she finished with Rory and Lane, and then she would have to immediately run down the street, sneak upstairs to Luke's apartment without him noticing and would only be seconds into servicing Jess as Luke and Lorelai are about to walk in PLUS he would need time to hide her in the closet and pull up his pants and appear cool calm and collected. I know Shane is a slutty superhero but could she really put that off in just a few minutes? Conclusion? It wasn't actually Shane in that closet and Jess has a rotation of girls who skip school with him to service him in his uncle's closet.

[streamdotpng]

Yknow I've been watching the movie she's the man and I'm thinking

Obviously an au, but here's my thoughts

It's about to be the start of the school's first semester and Enid has an older brother who has a passion for singing

He has the chance to go on a tour with his friends but he can't just leave his school like that

So he has the brilliant idea to ask Enid to step in for him. Literally. Like full on crossdress.

Enid, who attends a special school for special werewolves (plot hole and an online school) has finished her course work for the next two months and is currently just crotcheting shit in boredom. She hasn't gotten much reasons to be out the house because well, her condition is low key kinda volatile

She can't shift, but intense emotions makes her pop a wolf attribute or two

The fam are generally better here, while they think wolfing out would fix Enid's condition, theyre more concerned and focus on coddling her

Enid, who knows their ways of dressing is absolutely different and that she'll get caught immedietely: are you serious??

Brother: I'll buy you first seat tickets to that one Taylor swift concert that's arriving around the time I get back

Enid with nothing else to do and alot of free time: SOLD and make it two

Brother: wha- fine!

Enid: you're also going to explain it to mom and dad

Brother: NO-

Esther and Murray aren't pleased but they're generally more concerned over Enid.

It took a bit, alot of convincing because this would be the longest Enid would be out the house but they agreed. The reason that it'd be good for Enid to socialize and talk to people her age convincing them that a new environment might help her wolf out

Anyways, for this au we gonna end up messing up Enid's design :(

her brothers hair looks alot more dirty blond so if I ever draw this, it'd look like that. And actually draw short hair Enid! Woo

Also I wasn't wrong abt the wolf features so she usually has some sort of side burns bc she's just genuinely really happy to be out the house and being about

She also probably rooms with Ajax, much to her horror bc fuck she's rooming with a guy!? But then she remembers that she roomed with her brothers, it's not that different

Enjax bromance happens, he's usually to high to notice and they're vibing

Then Enid has to partner up with the ever so infamous wednesday Addams for biology

Wednesday here is rather known in nevermore as the silent ice queen. Studious, cold and uncaring. She's there to get her things done and gtfo, no friends needed

But then her attention gets caught at the rather squeamish werewolf of a partner. Most men who talk to her usually had two types, business or annoying. The annoying were the ones that try to court her, acting all tough and that they can handle her. I can fix her! Is a phrase that gets tossed around. It all crumbles the moment they realize that threats she make, the lines she is willing to cross and the things she keep in her room weren't simply lies.

Yoko can barely handle it and she drank blood. It's not surprising but it is disappointing.

It disgusts her, that false brovado. All fake and lies. The promises they can't even keep. How can they even be a partner, let alone a good husband if there was no faith?

Atleast she can deal with business, those were the ones she can tolerate the most. They were there to do their work and only bother her when necessary.

Enid Sinclair (we gotta work on a boy name or smth) was.. Interesting. He would be situated in business, if he didn't seem to always be right where she was most of the time.

In the library (Enid's eyes got overstimulated walking outside so she took a break

Or she does extra online school work there bc it's a good area to focus in, Wednesday Def wonders why tf she taking advanced insert subject name)

The greenhouse (the smell is reminiscent of her room back home, she takes care of alot of plants and she hopes that her mother is taking care of them)

Outside in the dark (enid has all this freedom so you bet she's doing all sorts of kinda reckless things. Like staying up late, running around the campus at night and maybe buying some food from Jericho at like 3 am)

Fencing of all places (reason explained later on the post but Wednesday is wondering how such a stick thin boy is handling himself OK)

But what frustrates her the most is how unapologetically a pussy he is. Like this boy isn't afraid to scrunch his noise and lean far away from the carcass they have to dissect. Then he inches closer and tries it with an obviously green ass face bc he needs to do it for the grade.

Not to impress her but for school

The courage is admirable

And well, can you blame her for wondering what's up with the guy that always says hi whenever they pass by each other after their first class together? Not alot of people are willing to interact with her other than the usual brisk acknowledgement between her and yoko

There's Bianca but they're rivals so it doesn't count

Enid? He'd be walking with his pack of stoners and still say hi if he passes by. Gives a thumbs up if he ever sees her looking and mentions that he saw this flower and that it reminded him of her

It was weird

It was.. Nice

(oh no)

Enid on her side is hyped as FUCK. she's finally out of the house so she has freedom to do some reckless shit

So you bet she signs up for the fencing club bc rough housing? Her parents didn't let her do that!

Gets her ass beat by yoko

Asks for a rematch

Still gets her ass beat

It's only when she's lowkey bruised and her body is sore does Yoko come over and ask if she's good

Enid laughs and accepts the hand given. "never been better!" bc that burn in her muscles? Addicting and so friendship is born

Bianca and Wednesday watching from the side

Bianca: did ur roomie awaken something in him?? Bc this is just masochistic

Wednesday, admiring how sisyphus-esque the whole situation was: no he's always been weird

Anyways that's it, there's definitely a moment where yoko is going into the bathroom and Enid nearly follows her in out of habit

Enid definitely is alot touchier here as well. Always gotta have an arm around someone's shoulder and a hand on someone's back.

Wenclair happens eventually!

[shiraishi-kanade]

Favourite headcanon about Yuka Shiraishi?

Oh, this is going to be a hot mess of a hc dump. I hope you enjoy them nonetheless.

- Yuka can actually cook decently well. She's not like, great at it, but it's not like everything she cooks is inedible. But because Ken is that much of a better cook than her, she sometimes the weaponized incompetence thing where she just so happen to grab salt instead of sweet and almost add it to the dish so Ken can take over the cooking process. Ken is fully aware, finds it endearing and gives in every time. Both An and Yuka love his cooking so much, so why not?

- An wasn't aware of the fact until around High School, however, and thought her mom's just actually terrible. This was the Shiraishi way to motivate An to learn to cook for herself and not rely on her mother or dad for breakfast and such. It worked!

- That said, Yuka was genuinely a horrible cook in college, mostly surviving on instant noodles and takeout. When Ken visited her dorm/room for the first time when they started dating, his reaction can be best described by "damn girl, you live like this?"

- They first met in college, but their actual first meeting was more like An and Kohane, with Yuka getting lost on Vivid Street or somewhere nearby. She got to see a whole new perspective on a just some guy she met on campus sometimes but who otherwise seemed completely ordinary, and that was the moment Yuka become interested in him.

- Both Ken and Yuka were friends for a long time before either of acted on their feelings. College, man! On top of Ken's musical career too! They didn't have time for dating. Nobody was surprised when they got together, though.

- Nagi and Yuka we very good friends from the get go. Yuka is actually older than Nagi by a few years, but Nagi was just acting full on like an older sister, showing Yuka around Vivid Street and getting her into the culture. Despite not being related to Ken, Nagi fully considered herself Yuka's sister-in-law, and both acted accordingly.

- Nobody thought they would stay together, though. It really just seemed like a very incompatible relationship on the surface, but both Yuka and Ken really tried to make it work.

- She and Ken originally wanted a very low-key marriage, the "friends and family only" kind of thing. Unfortunately, news got out anyway, and for the next three months they had to deal with so. Many. Gifts. Their house was practically stuffed for a while.

- She has her own little study room, with shelves full to the brim with textbooks and teaching materials. She actually has an "do not disturb" poster she puts on when she's working during the exam period and while grading papers, and the unspoken rule in the house is to not sing, play music or speak loudly while she's doing that, both because they love her and want to help her through tough time at work and because angry Yuka is a beast to be reckoned with.

- She's also the reason Shiraishi household is in a perpetual state of comfortable mess. Every single room just feels so lived in because Yuka (and An) is very prone to just leave things where they're standing when they get distracted by something. This is why there's so many books, CDs, kitchen appliances and clothes just. All over the place. Once in a while Ken sighs and puts things into their places, but it just returns to its messy state in around a week's time, so they all got used to it.

- A lot of people on Vivid Street were worried that Yuka would be insistent on An getting a conventional career, but Yuka isn't just chill, she's pretty excited about An's musical future. She married Ken of all people, and from the looks of it her job isn't particularly high-pay either, so why on earth would she care about things like "financial stability"? Pff.

- I don't think her parents ever approved of the relationship: iirc, An having grandparents isn't even mentioned anywhere. Yuka didn't care one bit though.

- She went through gifted kid to burnt out gifted kid to found something that brings her genuine joy and found comfort in studying it pipeline in her life; her relationship with school is very complicated and she's also been kind of a girlfailure through college, barely scraping by on some subjects, with Ken doing much better despite not really giving a damn about it.

- She has a very nice voice and can sing pretty well, but she has a particular issue with stage fright specifically about singing than she never got to fix. She'll sing for/with her family sometimes, but nothing other than that.

- She grew up in a kind of... Very normal but very lonely environment, with a nuclear family and not that many friends or relatives. This is why she kind of got culture shock when she first arrived at Vivid Street and notice how tight-knit the community was, to the point where she thought some of those people loved each other more than her parents loved each other and that she actually really missed something like this in her life. Striving to be part of a community, even if she herself wasn't really musically inclined, is a huge reason of why she stayed there.

- She helped that one "sexy onee-chan" npc (sorry) kindergarten teacher to get into college! They have weekly cafe meetups where they discuss their students and teaching methods; Yuka kind of sees her as her student as well, and vice versa.

- She has ADHD, and she's also the one who passed it down to An. Yuka was both comforted by recognising her own behaviours and mannerisms in An and very worried, because she was afraid An would have to face the same struggles she did; but in a lot of ways her own experience with it helped her give An coping mechanism and strategies that worked for her and the reason she had a very happy childhood overall. Yuka herself wasn't so lucky.

- Not a single gift she ever got for Ken on any holiday hasn't been at least a little embarrassing, from awkward jewellery to socks with hand embroidery. Yuka enjoys making him cringe but accept the gifts anyway because she finds it absolutely hilarious. Nagi and An did as well; Ken, not so much.

tl;dr: I love Yuka Shiraishi, even though I literally thought Ken was a single father for a year and that still remains one of my favourite AUs. I hope her sprite is absolutely hilarious.

[aliypop]

Anyway You Want Me: Chapter 2

Word Count: 3,147

Writers Note: This story is just an au of what if my Oc and Elvis met in high school instead of the Louisana Hayride

Warning: None so far except for language and historic language

Pairing: OC x Elvis

Plot: 1953 Memphis Tennessee Cecelia Valmos and her mother move to Shelby County as their house in Nashville is going through renovations, when asked to keep a low profile by her mother Cecelia makes friends with the quirkiest, shy, yet charming kid in class, at least Friends is what she'd call them.

Chapter 1

Memphis, Tennessee, Saturday, May 1953

"Is it three yet?" Cecelia asked as she was in her bedroom brushing out her curls and adding a small victory roll. Sure, the look was out of style, but she still appreciated it."It's 2:40." Denise shouted back as Cecelia grinned. She was finally going to be hanging out with someone, a cool someone, a shy someone, but it was someone. Taking her keys from off her dresser, she was ready to go. 

"See you later, mother!"

"See you later, and be safe!" 

"I will!" walking out the door, Cecelia passed her father, "Hi Daddy, bye Daddy..." Racing to her car, she got in and drove off, waving at the fans who were there for her parents. 

"What's gotten into her?"

"A boyfriend." Denise lied, "You'd know that if you were in her life more." 

Elvis would be lying if he wasn't twiddling his thumbs with jobs at the electric company just to kill time today. His watch was reading 2:56, which meant his shift was almost over, and he could hang out with Cecelia. Elvis couldn't wait to see her, which was totally not weird because Elvis only knew her for two days, but she was cool enough for him to be excited about seeing her, right? Either way, he knew she was worth him hanging around. Pulling back up to the store, Elvis saw her pink car. Cecelia was wearing shorts and a striped shirt, leaning against the counter with the toned legs of a dancer, and boy was Elvis entertained. She had on heels. And a pink chiffon bow in her hair and Elvis wanted nothing more than to pull her close and say- 

"There you are! I was talking to this young lady here about electric wiring."

"Did you know that when the male goes into the Female, and they plug into each other, boom, we get lights!" Cecelia glanced at Elvis, acting as if she didn't know that. He was thinking about a male and a female, but not lights.  

"Mhmm... I-I-I'll actually be right back." Elvis said as he went to freshen up. It wasn't like he was trying to impress Cecelia, Well, maybe a little, changing out of his work slacks. He had on a pair of black slacks and a white lace see-through button-up shirt with pink socks and his loafers. When he walked out, Elvis had hoped he would have taken Cecelia's breath away, but instead, he heard, "You look good, Pres."

"Thanks, Cece, you uh ready to go?" 

"Yeah." Taking his keys, he opened her door, then his, as the two began their adventures,

 "So where to first, record shop, comic shop?"

"Surprise me," Cecelia said, taking a bit of a glance at him as he began to drive. He wanted to rest his hand on her thigh, but friends didn't do that. He just had to focus. 

"Music shop it is."

Music played on the radio as Cecelia hummed along. She could carry a tune, Elvis thought to himself as he listened. He didn't sing much unless it was at Church or in his house. Other than that, he was a shy little thing,  

"So Cece..."

"Hmm?"

"You never did tell me where you moved from." 

"Well, sugar..." Elvis felt his heart pound when she said sugar. That southern drawl of her was strong, a bit like Scarlet O'Hara but sweeter, "North Carolina, Originally born and raised, but then for three years I lived in Georgia, and that was like stickin your hand in a jar of hot peppers and rubbin your eyes afterward." she laughed as Elvis kept trying to focus on the road, but he had laughed with her too, 

"Sounds like it was hell."

"You've no idea, sugar." She smiled, applying her red lipstick, "So what about you? You don't exactly sound like a Memphis guy." She smirked as he blushed. It was back on him now, all the attention, 

"Well, I was born and raised in Tupelo, Mississippi," Elvis smiled as Cecelia grinned,

"That explains that heavy accent."

"Yours ain't light either,"

"I don't know what you're talkin bout." Cecelia playful nudged him as they parked at the music store, 

"Oh really, what do you call honey."

"Definitely not what you call it." She laughed at his adorable accent as he helped her out of the car, 

"And what do I call it."

"Hunneh..." she mumbled as he laughed with her,

"That's what I sound like?" He questioned as she nodded, watching him walk like he was some star of importance, which to her he was. She never could find someone with whom she could laugh about accents. When they walked in, Cecelia called to the guitars on the wall. Her medicine of choice was a Gretsch, but she didn't mind a Gibson. Or a Fender. 

"Do you play?" Elvis asked

"A little..." Cecelia said, a guitar pick in her mouth, trying to reach for one of the Gibson guitars on the top shelf.

"Mind if I..." Before Cecelia could respond, she was suspended mid-air and sitting on his shoulder,

 "Oh..." reaching for the guitar, she grabbed it, 

"Thanks, sugar. I mean, El, Pres." 

"No problem. Cece with an E," He put her down. And he grinned a little bit. Her skin was actually really smooth, not that he was surprised, but it was a bonus. Sitting down, she strummed the guitar as her pink-painted nails began to play a song. 

"Well, I don't care if the sun don't shine. I get my lovin' in the evening time. When I'm with my baby." Cecelia began to sing as she played the song with a more bluesy rock and roll feel. She had a jazz undertone, but to Elvis, it sounded like an Angel was singing to him and a guitar princess strumming with the way her fingers were on the fret playing. It was almost as if Cecelia were a pro, and the song Cecelia picked a classic. Elvis was enchanted, but he couldn't be. Cecelia probably saw him as a friend anyway, 

"Do you play Pres..."

"El..."

"Elvis!"

"Hmm, sorry, I-I-I was thinkin." he stuttered as Cecelia blushed. Why was he so cute and innocent? She couldn't think of him like this. He was her friend, and he probably didn't feel the same.

"Oh, I was wondering if you played guitar."

"A little." He rubbed the back of his neck, "But how about the comic book shop?" he added. He wanted to save Beale Street for later in the afternoon when the lights started to come on, and the street really came to life, 

"I'd like that," putting the guitar down. The two then walked to the comic book store, 

"So, where'd you learn to sing and play like that!"

"Well, my mother, she sings, and my daddy, when he was around, played guitar, then I learned the rest from B.B. King." She shrugged,

"A girl who enjoys good music."

"Good music, good food, and great SUPERMAN!" she rushed to the window as Elvis laughed, 

"Cece, wait up!"

"EL IT'S A NEW ISSUE."

"Superman nice... But" his eyes saw a Jay Garrick comic, he snuck off and picked it up as he showed her, all he heard was a gasp, 

"ELVIS YOU FOUND IT!"She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, a blush creeping on his face, 

"F-F-Found what?"

"The comic issue I've been lookin for! " 

"you're welcome!" there were eyes on them as Cecelia and Elvis both blushed, 

"A discount for your date there," Irene said. Irene was the daughter of the owner. She knew Elvis well, in the sense he'd buy his Captain Marvel Jr. comics here. 

"She's just a friend, Irene."

"Sugar, look what I found!

"Mhmm, a friend..." Irene smirked, "I'll ring that one up, too." she winked, walking toward the counter. 

"This one's gonna be legendary..." He looked at the comic book as she grinned, "Definitely legendary." When they left the comic shop, they walked to the car to further their adventure. As they cruised down the street, the radio had been playing Dean Martins That's Amore, in which Cecelia had taken it upon herself to croon her entire heart out as Elvis as the test subject, 

"Y-You speak Italian..."

"Well, I've sung in German, French, Italian, and Spanish," she grins, "But Sometimes I speak French." 

"I-I-I-"

" Êtes-vous d'accord, Elvis?" Cecelia leaned in,

"I don't know what you just said. Hell, it sounded pretty." Elvis's brain was short-circuiting. If she was being a flirt, then he needed to get her back for it, too. 

"You think so. I've been a little rusty and haven't been to a French restaurant in a while..." She sighed,

"You live an interestin life, Cece." 

"I try to. Sometimes, I can never sit in one place. I have to be doing somethin. You know El. Like playing violin or singin or," Elvis was listening to her. She was passionate and energetic, a fast talker when she was excited, and he loved it. 

"Am I talking top?"

"No, you're talkin just fine," opening her door, he took her hand and helped her out as she blushed. He was a gentleman, a good listener, had a keen attention to detail, and had soft yet slightly callused hands that she could admire. 

"So this is Beale Street..." She said to herself,

"Wait til you see it at 7 pm. It's only 5, so we got time to see whatever you want." 

"Hmm... Let's walk and get into some good trouble." She grinned as Elvis smirked,

"I'm beginin to really like you." he said, as Cecelia blushed, "As a friend."

"Me too, kid," she giggled. Ruffling up his hair as she laughed, 

"I-I- I ain't no kid, Cece, why I bet I'm older than you."

"When's your birthday, El," Cecelia smirked, stepping up to him,

"January 8th, 1935." he smirked as if he were right, and she would grovel at his feet and say she was, in fact, a kid, a mere worm, "What about you, huh,"

"January 7th, 1935." she grinned, 

"Damn it, guess you're the boss." He laughed as the two then came up towards a tailor shop. Elvis was standing at the window looking at the suits and the shoes, 

"Wanna go in?" Cecelia asked. Elvis looked a bit hesitant. He had always craved the look, but he knew he couldn't afford it much. 

"I can't really afford much of anything in there..."

"Elvis Aaron Presley, You are going in that store. You will try on whatever it is you want, so that way, you know what you'll want when you can," she smirked, taking him by the hand and dragging him through the doors. She was gutsy, and he liked it, 

"Excuse me, but my friend here wants to try on..." Her eyes scanned the room for the pink suit that was in the window, "That fine suit right there, if you please." she smiled,

"Of course, Ms. If you'd follow me, sir."

"Cece..."

"Trust me, you'll look great." Cecelia smiled as she sat down in the waiting area, reading the men's fashion magazines and swoony at some of the men in them. She could hear Elvis in there having a bit of a ball and commotion of the experience, a snicker leaving her lips, 

"Cece little help here!" was all she heard, and then it was,

"Well, Ms., what do you think?"

"Well...I..." The pink in the outfit brought out those electric baby blues, and the lace gave him this alluring, sultry feel. The pants gave him an essence that told him he could have anything he ever dreamed of, and suddenly, she was beginning to dream of him in broad daylight, "Well, Cece..." the sinister smirk on his face was doing something to she'd never felt before,

 "Stand up straight..." she stood up, "Well, aren't you cookin' good lookin," Cecelia smirked, looking him up and down like one would inspect a car. 

"You really think so?" He asked as he danced a little in the outfit,

"Mhmm..." Her mind was racing, but they were just friends, "You could get any girl in that."

"You should get it for your boyfriend, Ms. We'll make up a fake invoice if you want to keep you two a secret..."The clerk smirked as both Cecelia and Elvis blushed,

"Oh no, we're just friends and just browsin' around, really," Elvis said as he went to get changed back into his clothes. Cecelia was tricky to read, but he knew he'd get the gist of her. Cecelia couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach, but maybe she was just hungry. 

"You hungry?"

"Hmm, I could eat, El." she took his hand as she waved the shopkeepers goodbye, 

"So the thing about me getting any girl..."

"You could in that outfit. You just gotta be confident, you know..." She paused. There in the cafe was an array of black skin dancing and singing, having a grand time while they were enjoying their burgers and fries, 

"We can eat here if you'd like." 

"YES!" this was the life she had missed, the life Elvis had always known. 

"Hey Elvis!" some teenage girls waved at him as he waved back. 

"Hey Mildred, Shirley, Rudy," he winked as they giggled, "Who's your friend."

"Cecelia Valmos." She introduced herself as they walked over and sat down, "Oh girl, I love your hair!" one of the girls said as Cecelia grinned, 

"Thank you. I love yours, too!"

"She just moved here not too long ago." 

"You picked a good tour guide."Rudy said, "He's always here like he lives here," she chuckled, 

"Is that so."

"Girl, you should see E cut up a rug. He's like a white guy with a black soul." Shirley commented as Elvis blushed, "And when He sings..."

"Ladies, I'm right here." he blushed, getting embarrassed a bit. 

"I'll keep that in mind." she chuckled. The waitress then came by as she looked at saw Elvis, 

"Let me guess, cheeseburger, a milkshake, fries salted." she laughed, "And for you, dear?"

"Cheeseburger and a soda, please." 

"No fries?" Elvis asked,

"I'll just eat yours."

"Aw, a date?"

Elvis and Cecelia quickly shook their heads,

"We're just friends..." Cecelia said,

"For now, " the three girls had said as they went to dance with their boyfriends. Cecelia watched them as she then looked at Elvis, who was tapping his foot, 

"You wanna dance?" offering her hand out to him,

"Sure." Elvis took her hand as they went up to the jukebox. Let's have a Party was playing, and that's what Cecelia intended to do. The two were dancing together and laughing as it had clearly been the most fun the two had been having. Pulling her close and spinning her around, he was impressed with her footwork. There had been a few girls he'd danced with, but this one, for once, could keep up. He then began doing his own thing as Cecelia watched his hips. She began to be mesmerized until she joined him. Swaying her hips as Cecelia danced around him, another guy took her by the hand as they began to do the Lindy Hop, flipping her over his shoulder as Cecelia laughed. He was impressed with her courage and how much of a fun time she was. 

"HEY E CATCH!" Bernard shouted as he spun Cecelia into Elvis's arms.

Elvis caught Cecelia as he dipped her, heart racing as she looked up at him, "Nice catch..." She said as Elvis blushed, "Nice, dancin." he then walked them both to their table. Sitting down, Cecelia and Elvis ate and talked as she took some of his fries, and he took some of her pickles from her burger, 

"So, has today been fun so far," Elvis asked as Cecelia sighed.

"I don't know, I mean..."

"Yes..."

"Well..."

"Cece..."

"I've been havin a blast!" she smiled. 

"Great, 'cause now I wanna show you the true Beale Street." he smiled, clutching his heart at her reaction. 

"Is this not the real..." walking outside. Cecelia saw the city lights. They felt more comforting than New York and brighter than Paris. They felt like home. Elvis could see the sparkle in her eyes as she was mesmerized by the scene music from every street, people dancing, cars going by,

 "May I?"

"You may." Elvis took Cecelia's hand and walked with her across the street, walking by other shops and bands. Cecelia could feel that this was where music truly lived. There was a group of musicians playing as Elvis began to mumble under his breath and sing the words. Cecelia had tried to listen. 

"You know... You heard me sing..." Cecelia smirked,

"Yeah, I did..."

"it's your turn..." 

"Cece..."

"Please, Pres..."

"Cil..."

"Elvis... Elvis...Elvis." She cheered as he took a deep breath and sang along to the song. When he began to sing, it was like time stood still to try to catch up to him. He was lost in the music, dancing and almost nearly performing the song. When he had stopped, Elvis had noticed Cecelia's mouth completely wide open in shock.

"ELVIS AARON PRESLEY!!! WHY ARE YOU NOT ON THE RADIO!" Cecelia playfully shook him about. As he laughed, "Or on TV, people should have posters of your records!!" she grinned, 

"I could say the same about you," he smiled as Cecelia giggled. He was right, but she was right, too.

 "Yeah, but this is about you!"

"Well, Cil, I got terrible stage fright." He laughed, "I can't be no singer or actor with stage fright." he sighed,

"Yeah, you can. Many get nervous, too."Cecelia said as she got closer to him,

"I-I-I-I da-don't pronounce my W's right an..."

"So, you got the look, I mean behind the lanky look and the choppy colored hair... There's a star." Cecelia backed away,

"Cil..."

"Imagine it, everyone screamin Elvis Presley!" she twirled, stumbling a bit as he caught her,

"Yeah... no," He laughed. Maybe if I played football or somethin, they should be cheerin your name." he smirked, lifting her up again on his shoulders, "Cecelia Valmos, the great guitar player, the amazing singer." he looked up at her as she looked down at him both their eyes meeting, 

"Elvis Presley, the great dancer! Mover of hips and remover of panties!" she joked as Elvis turned red,

"That don't sound half bad." he laughed with her, the two heading back to his car, 

"Elvis... Are you free tomorrow?"

"I got church an work, but after that..." 

"Wanna hang out again tomorrow?" Cecelia asked,

"Sure, we could go to a park or the library, maybe we could study at my place?"

"We could do that, I could make brownies as a snack," 

"It's a done deal then Cece," he smiled driving her to her car,

"See you tomorrow El."

"Same time?"

"Same time!"

Taglist: If you wanna be tagged let me know!

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

MORE TO COME IN CHAPTER 3!

[afpwestcoast]

Colony, Woodstock, NY, 9/1/23

In a virtual repeat of last November, the Dolls did a three-night stand at Colony in Woodstock, followed by a Patreon brunch on Sunday. Unfortunately I was only able to make two of the shows this time around, so this was the first show for me, but the second for the band. The band actually came out a little uncharacteristically stiff, like they were playing from rote memorization rather than actually feeling the songs. But that didn’t last long (2 or 3 songs, tops) and they torched through the rest of the set with verve and glee. Annotated Set List:

Sex Changes

Modern Moonlight

Gravity — During the lyrics Down at work, I'm getting too familiar with the floor Trading in my talents by the mouthful I mimed fellatio by moving my fist next to my mouth and poking my tongue into my cheek. Afterwards Amanda said, “I saw you putting that cock in your mouth, Tom; it was great. IT’S GONNA BE A GOOD NIGHT!”

Bad Habit

At this point the Addams Family theme suddenly appeared, but I honestly don’t remember why.

My Alcoholic Friends

Welcome to the Internet (Bo Burnham cover) — Before the song Brian start tapping on the rim of his drum in an irregular pattern and tapping a cymbal occasionally. Amanda expressed befuddlement but someone in the audience figured out that he was simulating typing. Like you do. On the Internet. (Except computer keyboards don’t ‘ding,’ but whatever.)

Night Reconnaissance

At this point Amanda recounted the story of the first time she was ‘canceled’ in Boston. Apparently she had randomly seen Yankees pitcher Andy Pettitte on TV and thought he was hot, so at a show in Boston she proclaimed from stage that she wanted to fuck Andy Pettitte, to which the general response from the crowd was, “That’s not funny.”

Astronaut: A Short History of Nearly Nothing

Mrs. O — Before the song Brian held up his hands to make a circle.

Amanda, confused: “What are you doing?” Brian: “…” Amanda: “O?” Brian: “…” Amanda: “Oh!” The crowd, catching on: “OH!”

Slide — After the song Amanda said that she wrote it when she was 15 and it was the first song she ever wrote that she thought was Good. She nervously and reluctantly played it for one of her teachers and his response was, “You know what’s gonna be amazing, Amanda? When the music of your songs achieves the maturity of your lyrics.” I yelled out “FUCK that guy!” To which Amanda replied, “I know; fuck that guy. It’s a really good song.”

Only 3 Chords — An impromptu composition in response to her high school teacher the entire lyrics of which were:

Music does not have to be complicated to be good You know it’s true Listen to The Ramones: Every song is good and it’s only three chords

Whakanewha (pronounced Fuckin-A Fa)

Boyfriend in a Coma — New(ish) song previously known as Tom’s New Favorite Song. It’s actually a very old song that has been recently resurrected and finished.

Mister God — Brand New Song! This is a great banger of a song that definitely fits in Dresden Dolls canon, but there’s a section that really reminds me of Olly Olly Oxen Free.

Houdini — Another Brand New Song!! This is a slower contemplation of death. Mostly.

Mein Herr (cover from Cabaret; music by John Kander, lyrics by Fred Ebb)

Coin-Operated Boy — as has become tradition lately, a little of Metallica’s Enter Sandman snuck in there at some point.

Happy Birthday to Leah someone in the crowd yelled out, “Can we sing Happy Birthday to Leah?” Amanda said, yes, but in a minor key, and then added the lyric “We hope it’s not long before you DIE!” to the end. Then she said, “That’s what you get when you ask the Dresden Dolls to sing you Happy Birthday!”

Good Day — Traditionally the opener, this song was pushed to the end of the set tonight.

War Pigs (Black Sabbath cover)

— —

Girl Anachronism

Sing

Photo Gallery:

There were reports that the venue had aggressively enforced a ‘no photo’ policy at the Thursday show (which seemed odd) so I didn’t take many pictures and they were all from a low angle so as to be inconspicuous.

The official set list. It was not followed to the letter.

The Dresden Dolls!

Mein Herr

After the show many in the crowd headed across the street to Amanda’s pop up venue Graveside Variety to see John Coons’ BLEAK!, featuring catchy, upbeat show tunes about how the world is ending and we’re all doomed.

[storybounded]

Speaking of which, I changed some of his backstory a bit, and I haven't had the energy to mention it in his history ( tbh it needs a whole re-write, but I'll do that later). Big TMI for mentions of drugs and the struggles with that, but I'll put that under a read more.

Scott and Aubrey DO not work together on the set of Bolt anymore. It was that way for the previous 9-ish years, but It is time for an update.

Aubrey, when younger, was known for singing children's pop music in shows when she was a lot younger. Everyone thought she would be quite the singer when older, and a lot of pressure was put on her.

Scott and Aubrey met in middle school and became pretty close friends, but they didn't exactly date till the middle of high school, when both of their careers started to blow up. Both were really soaking in that newfound fame, and they had similar goals in mind.

But, unlike Scott, Aubrey was under a company who was strict about her image. Especially one who is friendly to kids and such. And although Aubrey loved her younger fans, she was moving on. She wanted to grow up and wanted to do more with herself. She had starlight in her eyes, but her leg was unfortunately caught in a crab bucket situation. She was being pulled down.

But she started to fight. In minor ways at first, which wasn't the biggest deal to most. She did what most teenagers would do. She changed up some of her appearance and style, so it was no biggie.

Drug mentions and struggles under the cut!

But in her attempt to be 'more like an adult', she found her way to drinks and drugs. It was a bad friend who introduced it to her. This is where she began to make a drastic spiral. From happy go lucky girl, changed to a rebellious risk-taking teen who started to form bad habits to cope with the stress of being under the leash of a big corporation ( And Scott can only do so much to help her with that)

She started to spiral, and guilt tripped Scott to be more 'cool' and do it with her. And while they were still in the high of their newfound stardom, Scott didn't want to feel like a stick in the mud and ruin his image by not going along with her. Scott did the dumb teenager moment where he followed through. He did it for a few weeks.

But after they attended a low key late night party that they were invited to, he couldn't take it anymore. He hated the way the drugs made him feel. At this point, he saw how stupid they both were being, and he wanted to help her. They argued the next morning. He wanted to get her help. But she was taking it the wrong way in such a state.

He even tried to get her other friends to help convince her, hoping she would at least listen to them, but to no avail. Even went to her family, but her mother had long since been gone ( due to a divorce) , and her father wasn't really all the way present in her life ( too busy running his own corporation. Kinda like Jimmy Crystal from s.ing 2, but not murderous lmao). It was a nanny who tried to have a sit down with her. Along with Scott and with her friends who were all concerned.

But you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Scott was exhausted and tired by this point, and he finally had to cut the chord of their relationship. He made sure she was left in good hands, but he couldn't take another day in this turbulent situation. She was not in her right mind, nor the girl he used to know. She was not helping herself get better.

Needless to say, media and fan reactions were a THING he had to deal with, along with a string of negative hits to his image that he had to make up.

Also, extra tidbits of info. Aubrey is released from the corporate grip thanks to her father, who stepped up with his lawyers after the nanny got brave enough to give him a piece of her mind. So, she did get clean after several years. In fact, Aubrey becomes a quite beloved actress to smaller movies ( think hallmark and such). But even if Scott had the chance, he wouldn't get back together with her, but he is fine with reconnecting and staying friends.

[music-despite-everything]

A New National Anthem by Ada Limón

Ada Limón is the author of Lucky Wreck (2006), This Big Fake World (2006),Sharks in the Rivers (2010), and Bright Dead Things (2015), a finalist for the National Book Award and the National Books Critics Circle Award. She earned an MFA from New York University, and is the recipient of fellowships from the New York Foundation for the Arts, the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center, and the Kentucky Foundation for Women. Her work has appeared in numerous publications including the New Yorker, Harvard Review, Pleiades, and Barrow Street. Limón is on faculty of the Queens University of Charlotte Low Residency MFA program and the 24Pearl Street Online Program for the Provincetown Fine Arts Work Center. She splits her time between Kentucky, California, and New York. source: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/ada-limon

---

The truth is, I’ve never cared for the National Anthem. If you think about it, it’s not a good song. Too high for most of us with “the rockets red glare” and then there are the bombs. (Always, always, there is war and bombs.) Once, I sang it at homecoming and threw even the tenacious high school band off key. But the song didn’t mean anything, just a call to the field, something to get through before the pummeling of youth. And what of the stanzas we never sing, the third that mentions “no refuge could save the hireling and the slave”? Perhaps, the truth is, every song of this country has an unsung third stanza, something brutal snaking underneath us as we blindly sing the high notes with a beer sloshing in the stands hoping our team wins. Don’t get me wrong, I do like the flag, how it undulates in the wind like water, elemental, and best when it’s humbled, brought to its knees, clung to by someone who has lost everything, when it’s not a weapon, when it flickers, when it folds up so perfectly you can keep it until it’s needed, until you can love it again, until the song in your mouth feels like sustenance, a song where the notes are sung by even the ageless woods, the short-grass plains, the Red River Gorge, the fistful of land left unpoisoned, that song that’s our birthright, that’s sung in silence when it’s too hard to go on, that sounds like someone’s rough fingers weaving into another’s, that sounds like a match being lit in an endless cave, the song that says my bones are your bones, and your bones are my bones, and isn’t that enough?

[brewsterispunkk]

sunshine state

TWO: TONGUE TIED

pairing: benny miller x f!reader

WC: 8.7k sorry

warnings: 18+ mature=minors skedaddle! drinking & recreational drug use (weed)—don’t do drugs kids!—drunk!benny, dirty dancing, fake dating, bi!santiago

summary: you accompany Benny to a party with people from his high school, and agree to be his fake girlfriend to make his cheating ex jealous. you’re not totally convinced you’re as important to Benny as he is to you. But, as the saying goes: en vino veritas.

a/n: SORRY FOR THE WAIT! i hope the length makes up for it <3 I love y’all very much. hope you enjoy.

masterlist | series masterlist | previous part

PART TWO: TONGUE TIED

You heard him before you saw him.

It was the same as usual: the shuffling of feet outside your apartment door, the familiar turn and click of the lock, then the swinging of your door open, bringing a rush of hot humid air into your air conditioned apartment. Like clockwork.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how much that prick Lance pisses me off,” were the first words he uttered before kicking off his tennis shoes at the mat and shutting the door behind him.

“Well, hello to you too, Benjamin.” You mumbled, not even bothering to turn around from the Kraft mac n cheese you were stirring on the stove.

It was Friday, and you had forgotten to go grocery shopping yesterday, which meant that you were running low on, well, everything. So it was Kraft for dinner tonight.

“I mean, Tuesday he tries to correct my form, which, like, as if, and today I catch him checking out one of my clients who is sixteen, mind you.” He burst incredulously.

That was something you loved about Benny; how even without being able to actually see him right now, you could hear the disdain in his voice–he was just that expressive. While you tended to hold your feelings close to your chest, Benny was an open book. You could always read him.

“Do you know how to knock?” You threw over your shoulder sarcastically, stirring in the packet of powdered cheese. You heard him scoff.

“Uh, you gave me a key,” he jiggled his keychain. You rolled your eyes, turning to face him.

“Yeah, for emergencies, Ben.”

“Yeah, well, Lance is a fucking emergency.” He shot back, then continued as if there hadn’t been any interruption at all, “I mean, even if she wasn’t a fuckin’ kid, it’d be a creep thing to do.” He made his way over to you in the kitchen, narrowly avoiding a swat from Salem, who was lounging in the sun spots that danced through your open window. He came to lean on the counter next to your stove, facing you now. “But her mom was literally waiting like thirty feet away. Like, come on, man.”

“He better pray I never meet him, because if he’s even half as bad as you say, I won’t be able to be held accountable for my actions.” You pointed your spatula at him.

“And I wouldn’t blame you either.” he drawled, moving to root through your kitchen drawers. You ignored him, humming along to the Bruce Springsteen song that was playing pleasantly through your portable speaker that was sitting on the windowsill above your sink.

“I ever tell you you can sing?” Benny said casually. You barked out a laugh.

“Ha! Okay, what do you want, Miller?”

“What?” he asked, feigning offense. “Can I not compliment one of my dearest friends in the whole world–”

“No,” you replied haughtily. “You cannot, especially not when I know that tone and that you’re about to ask me for something.”

He’d grabbed a spoon out of your drawer and dipped it into your pot of mac n cheese.

“Hey!” you shrieked, hitting his shoulder and grabbing for the spoon. He shoved the spoon into his mouth before you could pry it from his hand. “Get your own!”

“Just did,” he muttered cheekily, chewing the cheesy noodles. You glared at him.

“Asshole,” you grumbled under your breath, trying to fight off the smile spreading across your lips.

“How was your day?” he asked casually, ruffling your hair. You swatted him away, turning to face him. He’d retrieved a bag of BBQ potato chips from your pantry that he’d left there last time he was over, before making his way over to your adjoining living room and plopping down on the couch.

“That’s what you have to say after breaking into my apartment and robbing me for all I’m worth?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Hey, I bought these. Just left them here. That means, technically, they’re mine.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, knowing full well that he was telling the truth. You just liked to mess with him. “Sure, Miller.”

“Whatever,” he snorted. “I’m watching Rick and Morty, it’s my turn to choose.”

“‘Kay, but don’t put on–”

“--the pickle Rick episode, I know.” He finished for you, casting you a look over his shoulder that said “really?”

You didn’t care; Pickle Rick was creepy, and you’d never have him curse your TV screen again.

It’d been nearly two months since the first time you’d gone for drinks with the guys, and so much had changed.

To begin, Santi moved away–nothing permanent, you’d been assured, though you got the impression that he wasn’t one to stick to one place–and he’d gone to do some “freelance work,” in South America, whatever that meant. You had a feeling that “freelance,” meant “illegal,” and there was a reason he was so vague about where he was going, with all of you, the guys included. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Since your first outing with the guys, you’d gone on many, many more; From weekly bar nights, to family dinners at the Morales’, to cook outs that Will hosted the last saturday of every month. You’d met and absolutely fallen in love with Frankie’s wife Mari, who’d practically burst at your addition to the group, claiming it was “about time,” she wasn’t the only girl. She’d joined you all for drinks when she’d been able to, but you’d still not seen much of Will’s fianceé Anna.

You’d conversed with her a little bit at the cookout, which had been held at hers and Will’s house, but the conversation had been… stiff, at best.

You’d tried to be objective with Anna. Truly, you had. But with the looks she’d been shooting Frankie all night, and the little backhanded remarks she’d made about Benny’s job fighting, she’d made it harder and harder to like her. Even Mari, arguably the kindest woman you’d ever met, didn’t like her, from what you could tell. You’d noticed that Will’s smile seemed to dampen a bit whenever she was around, never really reaching his eyes. It made you wonder all the more why he was still with her. You held your tongue, though, and smiled through the uncomfortable cookout.

The biggest change, though, since that first eventful night at the bar, was your relationship with Benny.

In just two months, he’d gone from your good acquaintance, to one of the people you interacted with the most. Even more so than Will, who had been putting in less and less hours at the museum lately. He claimed that his work at the VA was leaving him swamped when you asked him about it, but something in the way he put it made you a bit skeptical. The thing was, because Will was such a genuine, honest person, it was easy to tell when he wasn't being completely truthful. You didn’t push it though, sensing that whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it. And, with seeing Will less, came seeing Benny more.

The new discovery of his apartment being just down the street from yours meant that whenever he was bored or feeling particularly wired, you were the person he’d call. Whether it be midnight runs to CVS for shitty ice cream, or Saturday walks in the park, he had, in Benny Miller fashion, wormed his way into your life in the best way possible. He’d catsat Salem one weekend when you had to go back home for a family event you couldn’t get out of, and then done shots and watched the Bachelor with you when you got back from said family-event-from-hell. Benny had been the first person you’d thought to give the spare key to your apartment to when a string of break-ins happened on your street, and he’d taken complete advantage of that since then, letting himself in at the most random times, but never actually intruding on your privacy or space.

And now, here he was, sprawled out on your couch for the third time this week, using your Netflix subscription to watch his favorite show.

Shoveling your mac n cheese into a bowl, you chuckled to yourself, imagining what your mother’s reaction would be at his presence in your house. You could see it now: she’d gasp your first and middle name, hand on her chest, absolutely mortified at you having a stranger in the house.

The truth was, though, that Benny wasn’t a stranger—not anymore. He was one of your closest friends, the thorn in your side, the one who forced you to leave the house and socialize, the person you wanted to talk to about everything. He was a great friend. In fact, you’d even venture to say that he’d become your best friend in the past two months. Certainly the best one you’d had since the move. The love you felt for him was so palpable, so real, and not even in a romantic way. This was Benny. The guy who loved his friends like family and his family like himself. The asshole who’d eaten all your microwave popcorn, the little shit that would not stop messing with your cat no matter how many times you told him she didn’t like being picked up. The affection you had for him made your chest ache a little bit. Even disregarding the (not so) little crush you had on him.

“Oh my god, I fucking love this episode! Honey, get in here, it’s funny, I swear—“

You rolled your eyes at his insistence. He was determined to get you to like Rick and Morty, even though, to be completely honest, you found it stupid. But, he was your best friend. So you watched it anyway.

Benny was wonderful. Benny was, in that annoyingly perfect way, wonderful. But still, you wondered. Well, not necessarily wondered; it didn’t take up too much of your time. However, sometimes, on days like this when you were going about your day, when Benny was blissfully unaware, you wondered if this friendship was as big a deal to him as it was to you. If you were a best friend to him, or if you were just someone to pass his time with while his real friends were preoccupied.

Glancing over at Benny in your living room, bobbing his head along to the theme song, you shook your head, ridding it from your brain. You grabbed a spoon and a can of the blackberry hard cider that Benny had forced you to buy before you made your way over and plopped down next to him.

“Okay,” you sighed, focusing on the cartoon in front of you. “How many episodes of this do I have to watch before we switch?”

“I resent that,” he said plainly, eyes still focused on the T. V. in front of him. You shoveled a spoonful of mac n cheese into your mouth, rolling your eyes at him.

“I’m just saying,” you leaned back, crossing your feet to rest on the coffee table. “that there’s a reason that cartoons are for kids. This is what happens when adults meddle where they shouldn’t.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Uhm, shit’s creepy.”

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Is this about pickle Rick again? I told you, I’m sorry for that—“

“It was scarring, Benny!” You defended, remembering the first time he’d forced you to watch the show.

To be fair, neither of you were in the best state of mind when it’d happened. About three weeks ago, after a particularly grueling day at the office in which Will was a no-show and Paula was up your ass, like clockwork, Benny had shown up at your apartment. With weed, this time. He’d actually knocked before coming in, so when you opened up the door to him grinning like a maniac, holding up the small plastic bag of green substance, you rolled your eyes before letting him in.

“This has gotta be good,” you’d begun, crossing your arms over your oversized t-shirt. You raised an eyebrow at the bag.

“Cmon, don’t be like that, honey.” He teased, jiggling the bag. “It’ll be fun.”

You laughed, making your way into the living room before falling backwards on the couch.

“I haven’t smoked since college, Benny.” You gave him a tired look.

“And that’s exactly why it’ll be so fun. Who said anything about smoking it, anyway.”

“Where’d you even get this shit anyway?” You asked, standing up and grabbing the bag, inspecting it. You sniffed it.

Ok, wow. Yeah. Definitely weed.

“I know a guy,” he said flippantly, hands on his hips. “Look, if you don’t wanna, that’s ok. We can order a pizza or somethin’. Just thought I’d offer since I can’t cook for shit, and I really wanna bake it into something. My lungs can’t take that shit with the gym and fighting and all.”

“Ah, so you’re using me, huh Miller?” You egged him, smacking his shoulder playfully. “For my amazing culinary skills?”

You smacked him again, hitting his chest this time, and with a chuckle he caught your hand, effectively pinning it to his chest.

“Alright, alright, har, har, har.” He sent you a mischievous smirk. “You wanna do it, or not?”

You regarded him for a moment, eyes narrowed with a smile. Your hand felt like a brand on his chest, his own hand still loosely around your wrist.

“Oh, what the hell.” You sighed in defeat, and before Benny could let out a ‘yes!’ you added, “but I get to choose what we bake it into.”

You’d ended up choosing brownies; predictable but reliable. And lord did you regret it.

It had all been fine—up until you got to the sleepy part of your high, and Benny had made the executive decision to put on Rick and Morty. An hour later saw you with your face in his shoulder, terrified at the T.V. in front of you as rats devoured pickle Rick.

“Whatever,” Benny’s voice to your left snapped you back to reality. “Baby.” He added under his breath. You smacked him in response, eating your dinner, eyes glued to the screen.

A few minutes later, Salem sauntered over from her spot on your floor; the sun was beginning to set, and was no longer doing its job of warming her. She jumped up on the coffee table, as she usually did when you ate on the couch, and stared you down, tail swishing behind her.

“No,” you looked at her. “You are not getting any of my mac n cheese. I gave you tuna for dinner.” Her ear twitched in response. There were times that you swore that cat could understand you.

“And she’s fat enough as it is.” Benny pointed out from next to you. Salem’s head turned to him for a moment before turning back to you, yawning.

“Don’t say that.” You said to him, “she’s fluffy.”

“Mmm,” Benny narrowed his eyes at Salem, whose own eyes were burning into him in what looked like a glare. “Do you see that?!” He exclaimed dramatically. “She’s glaring at me!”

You rolled your eyes. “Cats don’t glare, Benny.”

“Uh—this one does! Look at her!”

Finished with your dinner, you put the empty bowl on the side table, before scooping up Salem, who situated herself on your lap. She was in an agreeable mood today.

“That cat doesn’t like me,” Benny was staring at her as she settled in.

“She doesn’t like anyone, Ben.”

“She likes you.”

“—She tolerates me. There’s a big difference.” You scratched behind her ear, causing a furry black paw to swat at you. “See?”

“Whatever,” he muttered, cueing your laughter. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you black cats are bad luck?”

“Oh my god, not this again.” You glared at him. This had come up before, the first time he’d met Salem. Needless to say: the two weren’t on the best terms. And though you’d never admit it to him, he was right; Your cat absolutely hated him.

- - -

It was nearing nine o’clock and Benny had yet to ask you whatever he’d been itching to all night.

You didn’t want to push him, but half a glass of wine and two episodes of Gossip Girl later, you were ready for him to spit it out. He shifted again, fidgeting, causing you to turn to him.

“Okay, what is it?” You grabbed the remote , hitting pause on whatever Blair and Serena were fighting about this time.

“What do you mean?” He looked like a deer in the headlights, and you had to choke down a smile at how endearing it was. He really was a shit liar.

“Are you going to tell me whatever you were going to earlier, or are you gonna keep fidgeting?”

“How the fuck did you—“ he cut himself off, shaking his head with a smile. “Okay, but before you say no—“

“Why do I not like where this is going?” You raised your eyebrows.

“—before you say no, please remember that I helped you dye your hair last week, and—“ you scoffed. “And, it stained my favorite Def Leppard shirt. And that I’m such a great friend—“

“Just spit it out, Benny.”

“Okay,” he breathed out, holding his arms out. “Okay, so like, everyone from high school is back in town for that stupid class reunion on Tuesday.”

“The one you’re missing for that fight?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He affirmed. “The one I’ve been training for for like, months.”

“Anyway,” he continued. “I didn’t wanna go anyway, but, my buddy Mike is having a party at his parents' place while they’re out of town or something. And normally I wouldn’t be caught dead at one of these things but Mike’s a great friend—I mean really, we go back to like 5th grade— and since I can't go to the reunion I thought, why not go.”

“And I come into this how?” You asked.

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, I normally wouldn’t give a fuck about what those assholes from high school think. I mean, really, I’m going to see Mike and his husband Quinn who I haven’t seen in years, but…” he trailed off, rolling his eyes. “Kelly’s gonna be there.”

Oh.

Kelly you’d heard of. You tried to ignore the simmering anger in your chest as she was brought up.

The Kelly situation had come up before, pretty early in your friendship actually. Benny had told you how his high school sweetheart had broken his heart, cheated on him while he was on his first deployment with some quarterback, and moved away as soon as he’d gotten home. And since Kelly, as far as you understood from your conversations with Will, Benny had never seriously dated. You could tell it had kind of scarred him; whenever she came up, he’d get that far-off look in his eyes. The same one he got whenever he talked about his time overseas.

“And I know it’s dumb, and a little immature, but I was wondering if—“

“Sure.” You cut him off, not even needing him to finish his sentence.

“—could you, maybe—what?”

“Of course, Ben. I’ll go with you.” He looked at you, dumbfounded.

“Wait, really?” He asked again. You laughed a little.

“Yes, Benny.” You giggled. “I’ll go, we can hold hands. You can show that bitch what she’s missing.”

“I—yeah. Yeah, okay.” He laughed a little, still surprised at your response. You grabbed the remote, turning off the TV.

“What time does it start?” You stood up, hands on your hips. “And who’s driving?”

“It’s at 11.” He said. “And Mike’s parents’ place is only a few blocks away, so I figured we could walk? Not have to worry about a DD.”

“Woah, not planning on getting too drunk, are you Miller?” You raised an eyebrow. “Because I can barely handle you sober, not sure I even want to find out what you’re like inebriated—“

“Okay, okay,” he rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” you nodded sarcastically. “I hope you’re not planning on wearing that.” You eyed his outfit choice of gray sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“No,” he scoffed. “We can stop by my place on the way over so I can change really quick.”

“Okay.” You said. “I’m gonna go get ready.” You began the journey to your bedroom, before stopping halfway down the hallway to turn back to Benny. “And don’t mess with my cat.”

- - -

“Jesus Christ, this place is massive.” You gawked at the larger-than-average house in front of you. Beside you, Benny nodded, watching the strobe-like party lights dance through the windows of the packed house.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “This place was the spot when we were kids.”

“How can such a nice neighborhood be so close to our shitty apartments?” You laughed, looking up at Benny who shook his head, not knowing the answer.

“So much for a ‘small get-together,” you snorted, gazing at the few groups of people situated on the lawn, drinking and laughing. Inside, you could hear the indistinct chatter of a party above the pulsing beat of the music.

“Yeah,” Benny tilted his head. “Mike has always been known for extravagance.” You hummed in response. “Well,” Benny, held his hand out to you. “Shall we?”

“Might as well,” you responded, grasping his hand tightly in yours as you made your way into the house.

Inside it was hot. The Florida heat combined with the sheer volume of people in the house made it humid—much more humid than even you were used to after living in a state of perpetual heat for eight months. You thanked god you’d decided to wear a cropped tank-top instead of the mesh long-sleeve you were considering. Even despite your lack of clothing, you were hot.

Benny’s hand stayed firmly in yours as he maneuvered you through the crowded entry way, skirting around groups of people. You made your way to a kitchen, which was less packed with people, and Benny let go of your hand, looking around the room—presumably for Mike. Beyond the kitchen, further ahead, was a conjoined living room, which was now serving as a make-shift dance-floor. Inside, people were jumping, twirling, gyrating; losing themselves in the upbeat, loud music that permeated into the kitchen. You wondered if this is what high school was like for Benny.

“You guys party a lot in high school?” You turned to him, tilting your head to the side and leaning back on the kitchen island which was serving as a minibar. Behind you, lay bottles of vodka, tequila, whisky, and countless other types of liquor, along with a giant bowl of punch, which held the strong smell of alcohol as well.

“God, no.” Benny shook his head, leaning beside you. “We weren’t really cool enough for that—well, I wasn’t really cool enough. Mike was, I guess, but he hung around me too much to be too popular.”

“Please,” you raised your eyebrows incredulously at the man beside you, whose warm shoulder was casually touching yours. You pushed down the feelings that begin to erupt inside you at that, determined to not let your stupid, stupid crush ruin one of the best friendships you’d had in a while. “You, Miller?” You continued. “Really?”

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you, a small smile on his face.

You snorted. “You had to have been popular.”

“Ha!” He threw his head back a bit. “No, I was not. I was 5’5” til I was seventeen and weighed maybe 40 pounds soaking wet.”

“You?” You asked incredulously.

“Why’s that so hard to believe, honey?” He asked cheekily. You eyed him up and down.

“Hmm, nothing.” You hummed. “Just hard to imagine you as anything but the school’s golden boy.”

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes looking more green than blue in this lighting. You couldn’t read his expression. His jaw ticked as he gazed at you pensively, and for a second—a millisecond, really—you could’ve sworn his eyes darted from your eyes to your lips. But as soon as you saw it, it was gone.

Benny cleared his throat. “Will was though,” he said, that easy smile back on his face. “He was quarterback and everything. Swears I followed him around like some lost puppy.”

You smiled fondly at that, remembering the times when Will had told you the same thing. It was hard for you to imagine Benny as anyone different than who he was right now—tall and broad, sometimes bashful, all easy smiles and soft drawls—but you tried to. You tried to picture little, 15-year-old Benny looking up to his brother like he was the sun himself. It was surprisingly easy to do, as Benny looked at him the same way today. You’d seen it. You wondered if that’s how you looked when you gazed at Benny. You hoped not.

“Yeah,” you said fondly. “He’s told me something like that.”

“That chicken shit!” Benny exclaimed, shaking his head. “It’s not true! Don’t you believe a word that man says.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed sarcastically.

“No, seriously!” Benny continued, turning to face you fully now. You took note of your proximity. From here you could see every detail to his face, tanned from the Florida sun. “I didn’t, swear to God! Now, Mikey on the other hand, I followed him everywhere. I was like a fuckin’ barnacle.”

“That so?”

“Oh yeah,” he snorted. “And he was cool. So his parties were the only ones I got into. Nothing’s changed there, apparently.”

You laughed at that. “What, you never got invited to parties?”

“I did, sometimes, when Will was feeling generous, but usually I was DD.” He admitted, shrugging.

“Not much has changed there.” You teased, recalling that night at the bar. He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He mused. “Not tonight though. You want a drink?” He turned to the liquor, getting himself a beer.

“Sure,” you said. “Get me some of that punch.”

“I don’t know if I’d do that if I were you.” A deep male voice boomed. The unfamiliar voice came from behind you, it was deep, and you could hear the smile in his voice. You turned around. “I’m not exactly revered for my jungle juice.”

The man was tall, almost as tall as Benny, and probably the most metal person you’d seen in your whole life. His arms were covered in tattoos that snaked up one side of his neck, and disappeared under his Black Sabbath T-shirt . He wore jeans and combat boots, and his hair was dark and curly, falling just above his shoulders. His face was smiling, looking at you fondly before finding Benny, next to you.

“Mikey!” Benny whooped, enveloping him in a bear hug.

“Come here, you little shit.” Mikey clapped him on the shoulder, the thick rings on his fingers glinting in the light, returning the hug with just as much force. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he pulled back from the hug, hands on Benny’s shoulders.

“Could say the same thing for you, man.” Benny pulled back, a face-splitting grin on his face. “Where’s Quinn?”

“Oh,” Mikey looked around. “Quinnie’s around here somewhere. Probably throwing up that god-awful punch. Really, it’s nasty.”

“You heard him, honey. Maybe go easy on the punch.” Mikey raised his eyebrows when Benny called you ‘honey.’

“Mm,” you hummed, taking a sip of the punch that, in all fairness, was god-awful. “I'm not one to back down from a challenge.”

“And who is this, Benny boy?” Mikey drawled, eyes swimming with mirth. Benny jumped up from his beer, shaking his head at himself.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Honey, this is Mikey. My best friend since, well, forever.” He gave Mikey your name, and you smiled as you shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled at him. “It’s great to meet Benny’s other friends.”

“Ah,” Mikey smirked knowingly. “Then I take it, you've met the gang?” 

You snorted at that, while next to you Benny rolled his eyes.

“Man, I told you, don’t call us that—“

“No, I think I like it,” you interrupted. “I’m using that.”

“Me and Santi go way back, right Ben?” Mikey raised an eyebrow, taking a draw from his drink.

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Benny ran a hand over his face.

“I’m guessing there’s a story there?” You looked between the two, and Benny shook his head.

“He wishes there was.”

“I had him on the ropes.” Mikey defends.

“Sure you did,” Benny took a sip of his beer. You snorted. “Mikey here spent, what six months trying to get Pope to go out with him after our first tour.”

“Ah, it was four months, thank you. And we made out at a party once, so I think that counts for at least something.”

You laughed at that. You hadn’t been aware that Santi was bisexual, but now that you did, you had to admit: it made sense.

“How’s he doing anyway?” Mikey asked casually. Benny tilted his head.

“Wish I could tell ya. Haven’t seen the guy in a couple months. He’s doing some work down in South America.”

“Always moving, that one.” You added.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Mikey said, crossing his arms. “So, you’ve met the guys then?”

“I have,” You nodded. “I actually work with Will.”

“Oh nice!” Mikey said. “What’s big Miller up to? He still with that nightmare?”

You choked on your punch.

“They’re engaged now, actually.” Benny added dryly.

“Jesus.”

“Yep. Not much has changed there.”

Mikey blew out a long breath at that.

“Tough, man.” He shook his head. “But, here, so much has changed. Where do I even start.”

And that’s what began the pair’s waltz down memory lane, which mostly consisted of Mikey pointing out random people walking by or on the dance floor and giving Benny a run-down of the newest scoop into their lives.

You gathered that Benny hadn’t really kept up with people from high school the way Mikey had; he didn’t do Facebook, or any form of social media really, and though he stayed local (mostly), much of his graduating class had moved away. And even if they hadn’t, you’d gotten the impression that after his time in the military, along with all that came with his messy break-up with Kelly, he’d have distanced himself from them anyway.

Mikey came to stand between you and Benny, all of you leaning on the counter opposite of the kitchen island as he pointed out random people trickling by and gave you both a crash course on what they’d done since high school. It was the usual catch-up: a divorce here, a pregnancy there, there was even a woman who’d married an ex-teacher at the school, which had caused quite the scandal. You sat mostly quiet though as they conversed, content to absorb the information and get a better understanding of Benny.

The way he interacted with Mikey, his oldest friend to your knowledge, was the same way you’d seen him interact with the guys, and with you. He was easygoing, kind, funny, and 100% Benny. You knew no other way to describe it. There was something about his authenticity that made you jealous, as much as you hated to admit it. Where you had trouble expressing yourself, your emotions, your thoughts, it seemed to come so easily for him. He was carefree in a way that made you ache. Always telling people how he felt, reassuring them, always honest. He was the same in private as he was with everyone else; there was no facade, or pretense of kindness, it was all just him. Authentically. It scared you the way he made you feel.

You scanned his profile; the long lashes (which you were also jealous of), the slope of his nose, the curve of his brow. His hair was messy—it was always messy—and it fell haphazardly over his forehead in dark blond waves. Your hands itched to touch it.

“Oh god,” Mikey’s voice snapped you out of ogling Benny. You mentally smacked your forehead, blaming the jungle juice for your actions. It was already beginning to take effect, making you comfortably tipsy. “Don’t look now.” Mikey warned.

“What?” You asked, looking between him and Benny, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Oh shit,” Mikey looked at Benny, whose gaze was trained toward the dance floor, eyes wide. Mikey grabbed your hands. “Okay, don’t look now, but we have company. Ex-girlfriend, 3 o’clock.”

Your gaze followed his, spotting a redhead making her way over to your group through the throngs of people on the dance floor. As she got closer, you could see her clearer. She was pretty. Really, truly pretty. So much so that she made you shift uncomfortably in place, tugging at your shorts absentmindedly. She was pale, with freckles dusting his cheeks and nose, a smirk on her face as she walked.

“Kelly?” You asked Mikey, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” he said.

Ah, you thought. So this was the bitch that broke Benny’s heart.

You felt a surge of protectiveness and anger rush through you at the thought. In your mind's eye, you saw the look on Benny’s face as he’d told you of her betrayal. The same look that was on his face now. Absolutely not, you thought, remembering why Benny had invited you here in the first place.

You turned to Benny, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a long swig from his beer. You put your hands on his shoulders, turning him toward you. He looked nervous, fidgety. More so than you’d ever seen him.

“You ready?” You asked him, eyebrows raised. “We’re gonna show her what she’s missing.”

He blew out a sigh, looking over at her again before back at you. He nodded resolutely, his poker face returning.

“Yeah,” he said, as if trying to convince himself. “Yeah,” he repeated, more certain this time. “Yeah honey, I’m ready.”

“Then let’s give her hell.”

You grasped his hand in yours, leaning your head on his shoulder and running your other hand up his arm, as you turned back to Mikey.

“This should be fun,” Mikey murmured, as Kelly approached your group.

“Oh my god!” Even her voice was pretty. You ground your teeth, forcing a polite smile at her. “Benny! How are you? It’s been so long!”

Benny smiled politely at her. “Just fine,” he said, not bothering to ask how she’s been. You squeezed his hand.

“Hello to you too, Kelly.” Mikey mumbled into his solo cup. Her eyes snapped to him coldly, before turning sickly sweet again.

“Hey, Mikey.” She purred, pulling him into a hug. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fabulous.” He said. “I mean, I threw the party, didn’t I?”

She laughed, throwing her head back.

Unnecessary, you thought pettily.

“You know, that’s why you were always my gay best friend in high school.”

You snorted. You couldn’t help it. Because Jesus fucking Christ, was this girl serious? Your eyes went wide as you looked to Benny, whose expression mirrored your own. Mikey had a pained expression as he nodded.

At your outburst, Kelly’s eyes snapped to you, sizing you up. She looked you up and down, a sour look on her face.

“And who are you?” She asked, still feigning politeness. You matched her smile.

“Oh, how silly of me.” You introduced yourself, shaking her hand in a firm handshake. “And you are?”

“Uh,” she looked between you and Benny, eyes zeroing in on where you’d hand was still joined with his. You titled your head at her. “I’m Kelly. Benny and I go way back.”

“Oh really?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing in mock confusion as you turned to Benny who looked down at you, a grin alighting his face at your antics. Mirth swam in his eyes. “Ben’s never mentioned you before.”

“Haven’t I, baby?” He asked, letting go of your hand to wind his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. There was that nickname again.

Baby, baby, baby.

You ignored the butterflies that erupted in your gut at his calling you that name. He had practically purred it. Jesus, you needed a stronger drink.

“Hmmm, no I don’t think you have.” You smiled up at him, staring at him for a moment, really milking the whole fake relationship thing.

“Hmm,” Mikey cleared his throat from Benny’s other side, cutting through the awkward silence. “Well, you know how it is.” He said. “After you find the one, old flings just kind of fade together.”

Your heart stuttered at that. The one. It made sense for him to say that; you were pretending, trying to fool Benny’s ex and make her jealous, but still, a part of you wanted it to be true. A part deep, deep down that you’d never admit to yourself.

“Yeah,” you said fondly, deciding to take your chance and reach up and tuck a piece of Benny’s hair behind his ear. You could’ve sworn you say his breath falter for a moment.

“Well,” Kelly spoke up, more annoyed than before and barely hiding it. “It was nice to see you guys again, I’ve-uh-I think Candace is waiting for me.”

When she’d gone, Benny blew out a breath, shoulders deflating.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that worked.”

You laughed at his reaction, patting his shoulder.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Uh, yeah—I did!” He affirmed dramatically. “I mean, did you even see that?”

“Yes, Ben, I was there.” You said dryly.

“Lord have mercy, you’re good at that.” He shook his head at you. “Did you have a side hustle in college or something? You could add ‘helps make exes jealous and is amazing at fake dating’ to your resume.”

“Oh god, Ben, that’s gotta be the worst one yet.” You laughed at his awful joke.

“Cmon,” he laughed back, “you’re good!”

“He’s right,” Mikey came up between you, carrying two full shot glasses in his hands. He sat them on the counter in front of you. “You were really good, that girl was seeing red.”

“Well,” you said, flattered. “Thank you. I take pissing off my friends’ shitty exes very seriously.”

“Yeah, I gathered.” Benny added dryly. You swatted the back of his head.

“Now, drink up!” Mikey gestured to the full shot glasses in front of you. “You two deserve it after how awkward that was. I’m gonna go find my husband.”

You raised your eyebrows at Benny as Mikey sauntered away, presumably upstairs.

“Shall we?” You asked him, sniffing the amber liquid in the shot glass. The familiar spice of cinnamon and twinge of whisky hitting your nostrils.

“Ah, why the hell not,” he said, picking up his own shot glass. “God, I hate fireball. Reminds me of Pope.”

You snorted, before clinking your glass against his and throwing it back. The familiar burn of the whisky mixed with the spice of the cinnamon warmed you up as it went down.

“Agh,” Benny made a face as he drank his own. “That's awful.”

“Pussy,” you muttered. His mouth fell open.

“Wanna bet?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Five bucks says I can out-drink you.” You challenged. His lips twisted into a wicked smirk, staring you down.

“I’ll take those odds.”

———

Benny may have taken your little bet a little too seriously.

A little too seriously, as in: he was five drinks in, and wired as all get out.

You were reasonably drunk yourself, to be fair. After the shots, you’d challenged Benny to chug some jungle juice, and after he did, he’d had two more cups. After matching his pace in the first two, you’d decided to call it quits and lose the bet. You deemed babysitting Benny for the night and making sure he didn’t embarrass himself in front of Kelly or anyone else from high school more important than the five dollars you’d lose to the bet. You’d win it back another time, anyways.

Now, though, you’d discovered what Benny was really like when revved up with alcohol, and it was more than you bargained for.

“Ben, I gotta cut you off,” you pressed his chest lightly, standing between him and the makeshift mini-bar. He stopped, pouting at you.

“Why, honey? I’m completely sober.” He argued, sounding a bit too much like a toddler for your liking. You snorted, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, ok, big guy.” You said, before nudging one of his shoulders backwards with a little more force. He stumbled backward a bit, losing his footing for a second before shaking his head, standing upright again. “See?” You asked. “You drink anymore, you’re gonna pass out and I’m gonna have to drag you home.”

“You’re a party pooper, you know that?” He asked you, crossing his arms and coming to lean against you, too drunk to consider your personal space. You couldn’t bring yourself to care as he leaned his head on your shoulder. He sighed. The party was still in full swing behind you as you sat in silence with him. You leaned your head on his, catching a whiff of the pine scented shampoo he used. An involuntary thrill went through your gut.

“I didn’t like seeing Kelly tonight,” he said, voice so melancholy it made your chest stretch and ache. “Was too much for a little bit.”

“I know, Ben.” You said, reaching down to squeeze his hand.

“But you,” he giggled a little bit, pressing his forehead into your shoulder. “You made her so mad.” He looked up at you, all trace of sadness gone from voice and face. His eyes were glittering.

“Okay, she wasn’t that mad.”

“No, no, honey, she was!” He said. “She made that mad face.” He mimicked her facial expression, pressing his eyebrows together dramatically. You laughed at his antics. His eyes then snapped to the dance floor, catching Mikey towards the middle, dancing wildly with a shorter man with a dark afro.

“Mikey!” He said excitedly, face lighting up. “I wanted to dance,” he added, face falling a bit. “I was too worried about Kelly to dance.”

“We can dance, Ben.” You took his hand. “If you want to.”

He pulled you to the dance floor then, not wobbling at all. Part of you rolled your eyes at that—perhaps he was just being dramatic when he’d stumbled earlier. You brushed it from your mind, though, and instead focused on Benny’s warm hand in yours as you made your way through the packed dance floor to Mikey and Quinn.

“Quinnie!” Benny beamed when you’d reached them, enveloping the shorter man in a crushing hug. “We missed you earlier!”

“Yeah, well,” he cast a sarcastic look at Mikey who shrugged. “This asshole left me upstairs to fend for myself against Candace Meyers.”

“Okay! To be fair, I didn’t know she was up there! I thought you were sick or something!”

“That makes it even worse, Mikey.” You added arms crossed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” Quinn said, smiling at you.

“Oh!” Benny put his arm around your shoulder casually. You tried not to stiffen. He gave Quinn your name, before adding. “She’s my—“

“Benny’s friend.” Mikey completed for him, kissing his husband on the cheek. Benny’s brows furrowed, before jumping up again, as the music changed from an upbeat song to a more slow one.

“I love this song!” He said, looking to Mikey and Quinn who were already beginning to sway. “Dance with me, baby.”

You thought you saw Mikey raise his eyebrows at the endearment that fell from Benny’s mouth, but you couldn’t be sure, as you were focused on Benny’s firm palm on your waist, pulling you to him.

You felt the booze buzzing through your veins as he pulled you closer, his fingers warm against the skin that was left bare between your shirt and jeans. Motivated by the liquor in your system, without thinking, your hand went to the hair at the nape of Benny’s neck, your other going to his shoulder. As you ran your fingers through and played with the hair there, you could have sworn you felt him shiver, his grip tightening on your waist while his other hand pulled you closer by your hip.

And god, you’d never felt the way you did when he was touching you.

Everything felt charged as he swayed you back and forth to the music, and all of a sudden, there was no more sweat, booze, and chatter of the people around you, there was only Benny.

You gulped, and his hand slid up your shirt, his smooth palm gliding over the expanse of your back, skin to skin. Your head fell to his shoulder, and he cleared his throat, spinning the two of you around slowly. You felt his nose at the top of your head, before he inhaled.

Was he… smelling you? You had to hold back a laugh at the thought, before catching yourself, remembering that merely five minutes ago you were doing the same thing to him, when he’d had his head on your shoulder.

The hand on your hip moved to your hand, grabbing it. You looked up at Benny, not realizing how close he was. Your noses were nearly touching, his eyes looked impossibly dark in the dim light of the living room. His warm breath grazed your lips, smelling of the fruity jungle juice from earlier. For a moment you both just stared, before Benny surprised you by pulling you out into a spin away from him.

You giggled a little as you clumsily spun back to his catching his slow grin in the process. But when he spun you back, his hands went to your hips, pulling you backwards against him, and any laugh that you may have had died on your lips.

As silent gasp broke past your lips, your back meeting his chest. You could feel the heat of his chest bleeding through his T-shirt on your back, warm and firm against you. His hands stayed resting on your hips as he slowly began to move you both to the music.

You swayed, too overwhelmed with the sensation of his body against yours, his scent, his breath against the back of your neck, to convince yourself otherwise. Everything in your body screamed: Benny, Benny, Benny.

You let your head fall back to his shoulder, feeling motivated by the alcohol in your system to turn your head and press your nose and lips up against his warm neck. A sound that was almost a whimper fell from his lips as he gripped your hips tighter, one of his hands grabbing yours and the other reaching over to grab your opposite hip. Without realizing, you ground your backside against his front, resulting in a puff of warm air from him against your throat.

“Hey,” Mikey’s voice snapped you back to reality, and you practically jumped out of Benny’s arms.

“Uh,” Mikey was trying, and failing, to hold back a shit-eating grin. “I’m gonna kick everyone out soon. Thought I’d give you guys a heads up.” He narrowed his eyes at Benny who coughed.

“Yeah, man.” He tried to feign sobriety, but one look at him had you holding back a laugh of your own. You were drunk, but you weren’t that drunk.

“Make sure he gets home okay?” Mikey had a hand on your shoulder. You smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

“I will.” You looked back at the man behind you. “He’ll probably sleep at mine tonight. I don’t feel like walking the extra block to his apartment.”

Mikey hummed in response, before gigging you goodbye and promising to give yours and Benny’s goodbyes to Quinn.

“You think you’ll be able to walk home?” You asked Benny, eyebrows raised.

“Hmm?” He shook his head, looking at you bleary-eyed. You sighed, rolling your eyes and grabbing his hand.

“Alright, cmon big guy.” You said, starting toward the door. “Let’s get you in bed.”

- - -

“Mmm,” Benny moaned, arm slung across your back and forehead pressed into your shoulder. You sighed, practically dragging him up the stairs to your apartment.

“I know, I know,” you mumbled. “Just a few more steps. We’re almost there.”

He’d gotten to that point in the night where he’d hit a wall. All the energy he’d had on the walk home, where he was practically skipping and shouting, had given way to sluggish, slurring, tired Benny. The Benny that you had hanging off of you as you tried to fish your keys out of your purse.

As you searched, he lifted his head from your shoulder, settling his chin there instead. He smiled as you rooted around for your keys.

“Need some help, honey?” He asked innocently.

“Fuck off, Ben.” You laughed, turning to face him. Your nose bumped his, and he smiled. You shook your head and turned back to your purse, focused on the task at hand.

“Aha,” you mumbled to yourself, finally finding your house key, “gotcha.” Your fingers shook a bit fumbling to fit it into the keyhole, a bit rattled by Benny’s breath against your neck.

“You’re pretty, you know that?” He said plainly. You opened the door, hoisting his arm over your shoulder, guiding him in.

“You’re drunk, Benny.” You sighed, ignoring the butterflies that erupted at his admission. You kicked off your shoes, locking the door behind you.

“M’not,” he said as he tripped over his own shoes. You laughed lightly at his clumsiness, grabbing his hands to steady him.

“Mhm, I believe you too, Ben.”

“Smartass.” He retorted, following you as you took him back to your bedroom. “Always such a smartass.”

“Uh huh. Save it for when I’m not taking care of you, ‘kay Miller?” You said with no venom in your voice. He grumbled in response, too tired or drunk or both to come up with a retort.

“Alright. Get ready for bed, while I go change and brush my teeth,” you said to him as he stared blankly at you, sitting on your bed. “I’m not undressing you, Ben. We’re not that close.”

You grabbed a pair of pajamas before making your way to the bathroom to clean up before bed. After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you returned, pushing open your squeaky bedroom door.

Benny had stripped down to just his boxers, and was slumped over on your bed, head resting toward the foot of it, already dozing off. You held back a laugh, walking over to shake him awake.

“Hmm?” He asked, confused.

“Gotta get you under the covers, Benny.” You told him softly, pushing him lightly backward by the shoulder.

“Mmm,” he hummed affirmatively, standing up and rubbing his eyes so you could unmake the bed and pull the covers back.

“Was gonna ask,” he said, voice gravely in a way that made you shiver. “Could I borrow your Fleetwood Mac shirt?”

You fake-glared at him. “That’s my favorite shirt.”

“I know, but it’s soft,” he started before you laughed.

“I’m kidding, Ben. Get it bed, I’ll grab it.”

“Woah, honey,” Benny drawled teasingly. “Trying to get me into bed so quickly.”

“Funny,” you commented dryly at his innuendo.

“I mean, really, take me out to dinner first—“ you cut him off by tossing the shirt right at his head with a flop.

“Mmm thanks,” he replied, pulling it on.

“No problem.” You said. “I’m gonna go grab you some advil and water for the raging hangover you’re gonna have in the morning.” He groaned as you went to the kitchen to retrieve the pills and glass of water.

When you returned, he was leaned up against the headboard, brows furrowed. You set the pills and water on the bedside table before getting back up, preparing to sleep on the couch.

“We are.” His voice stopped you in your tracks as you reached for the doorknob. You shook your head, not catching his meaning.

“‘We are’ what?”

“That close.” You looked at him confusedly, so he continued, “earlier, you said we aren’t that close; we are.”

You paused, your tongue feeling like cotton. Your mind blanked and you just kind of, stood there, absolutely tongue-tied and shocked by whatever admission this was. Still, he continued.

“You’re my best friend, yaknow.” He mumbled, before leaning back into the pillows and letting out a deep breath, ready to sleep. You stood there for a second, an overwhelming warmth filling your chest, before responding quietly.

“You’re mine too, Ben.”

[wrenqueenisboss]

DSMP x reader - taking them to prom (they/them) (high school!au)

Characters: Dream (clay), George, Sapnap, Quackity (Alex), Karl, Niki, and Technoblade  Warnings: Dream’s and Quackity’s irl names Pronouns: they/them (if used/mentioned) notes: I don’t know much about prom so this is going to be based off of cheesy high school movies and tv shows lol. I’m sorry to all people who have gone through high school if I got this offensively wrong.

For an fun bonus: I added the songs that you guys would walk in to/dance to together

Dream:         (dance to “Midnight City” by M83)

He would ask you to prom after winning a big football game

he’d just sprint to you in the stands, you’d run down to meet him, and he’d sweep you into one of those tooth-achingly sweet spinny hug things (pls tell me you know what I’m talking about)

He’d ask in the sweetest way ever and you’d of course say yes

when he sees you enter the venue’s room in your stunning outfit, his jaw drops

“woah”

you guys have the time of your lives

so much jumping, and cheering, and singing, and hugging, and laughing, and kissing, and memories being made

George:          (dance to “Adore You” by Harry Styles)

George asked quietly, while you guys were studying in the library for a test (not stressful, don’t worry bae)

he softly asked whether or not you had a date

you just simply replied no

gathering his courage, he asked if you wanted to go with him

“as friends?” you asked hesitantly, wanting it to be more but not wanting to push

“I was hoping we’d go as more than friends, but I understand if that oversteps your boundaries”

you smiled your sunny smily and said yes, ofc

more of a chill night, but it was still such a night to remember

Sapnap:       (dance to “505″ by the Arctic Monkeys)

Sapnap was being “bullied” by George and Clay for days since you guys had been told about the official date for when prom would be held

they kept pestering him for who he would ask out

completely fed up with them, he admitted that he really wanted to ask you

cutting their annoying act, Clay and George would help him build up the confidence to ask you

you said yes this is getting repetitive

you guys had probably the most energetic night

you guys were so freakin’ exhausted in the morning from all the partying

Quackity:     (enter to “Bang” by AJR)

Alex would most definitely ask and the weirdest most obscure time ever

You guys would probably be chasing some kids (Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo) in the park and he’d look over at you and ask,

“Hey, Y/n. Wanna be my date to prom?”

You’d stumble a little in surprise before excitedly saying “yes!”

You guys wore matching outfits and walked in dramatically, wearing sunglasses and  s t y l i s h  beanies that coordinated with your outfits perfectly

your guys’s aesthetic was totally Pinterest-worthy

Karl:         (entered to “Sober” by Childish Gambino)

Karl asked while you guys were walking in town together

you said yes

his face broke into the most happy smile on earth when he saw you arrive at the venue

you guys walked in the main room of the prom event together

it was pretty chill and vanilla for you guys, but oh my god you had fun

dancing for hours on end, low-key pranking some people

sneaking out of the large room where everyone was to roam the halls of the venue 

you guys took a selfie that captured your guys’ relationship so well that both of you framed it and made it your lockscreen

Niki:       (entered to “All The Stars” by Kendrick Lamar and SZA)

It was hilarious how she asked you out. Well- nvm. You’ll hear the full story

You were driving back from the bookstore together when you both felt the need to fill the silence

both of you asked, “Would you like to go to prom with me?” at the same time which made you both laugh

You each agreed to the question (not in unison this time)

You coordinated your outfits, spending quite a lot of time on the aesthetic of things

oh and by the way, it PAID OFF

the two of you were like a Goddess and a God (used in a gender-neutral way) and no one could stop swooning over how in love you and Niki were

it was both a chill and crazy night, the perfect balance. just like you two

Technoblade:     (entered to “Feel Like I’m Drowning” by Two Feet)

you two were practicing for sports 

if you don’t play sports, you were watching techno

he paused for a moment and you did too. He then just randomly asked in the most adorably sincere voice, “Y/n? Would you like to go to prom with me, as my date?”

You smiled “Yes. Absolutely.”

You guys wore really hot outfits and walked in the room together radiating badass energy (hence, the sexy/badass song I chose for this headcanon)

despite being dressed like a million bucks, you guys actually just sat down in a corner and discussed greek mythology

everyone, everyone, agreed that you two were the best-dressed couple at prom

You guys did dance together, but only slow dancing

“other dancing is for uncultured people who don’t understand the elegancy and intimacy of a simple waltz” - Technoblade in this headcanon

[creativeashproductions]

Proceed With Caution // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.

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Masterlist

The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.

“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”

A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.

“See you in a bit.” You whispered to the sleepy soft male. He sleepily grinned in response before curling into your pillow.

The sound of your footsteps softened on the steps back to the main level of the apartment. Your keys snagged from the bowl before you gently closed the door behind you. The sun was gorgeous to be awake to see and had Buck not worked a long shift, you’d have adored watching it with him.

Your car pulled out of the parking spot in the Los Angeles Service Center’s direction that Maddie worked at. Your lips quirked as the radio spewed out the station that Christopher listened to in the car. You could even pick up the book in the backseat where he called his spot. The book could be found in Buck’s Jeep as well.

It had maybe three days since you’d seen the young Diaz, and damn did you miss the kid. Christopher has his enigmatic quality that demanded you love him for all that made him simply Christopher. The second you’d met him, you knew he would mean a lot to you.

You hummed in time with the song that was currently Christopher’s absolute favourite. Slowly you went from humming to singing along when the light turned green. A handful of songs came and went on the admittedly long drive due to traffic.

It was about forty minutes after leaving your apartment that you parked next to Maddie’s car in the parking lot. Lucy was sitting at the front office with a grin you matched. The woman buzzed you before she clocked out with her reprieve Jake.

“Hey, Sue!” You grinned at the older redhead. Sue had absolutely no problem seeing you, given that you were welcome in the building.

Sue’s first interaction was when you came to the centre to pick up Maddie when she came to work sick. Maddie had managed to keep it under wraps for an hour before Sue caught on. Ever since, Sue was fond of asking Maddie about her brother and you.

“Maddie’s not in just yet.” Sue spoke with a kind smile, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with one of our sit alongs.”

You nodded towards her while beelining for the woman’s bathroom, hoping to catch Maddie after using it. You’d drank too much water on your run earlier this morning. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate in the time you’d entered the bathroom, several things happened. Lucy ended her shift, Jake started his shift, and a group of strangers entered the building.

Your hand went to push open the door when through the crack, you saw two men you’d never seen before. Years of your job gave you enough feeling to know that something wasn’t right. That being said, you eased the door closed and attempted to find a hiding spot.

The garbage was too narrow and had no lid. The few seconds you had left, you glanced up. The ceiling hadn’t been renovated in many years. Rectangular sheets could be raised. Thankful of the rock climbing lessons you’d done with Maddie, you managed to crawl into the ceiling just as the two men entered.

“Nobody’s here.” The one-man with his head as pale and shiny as a cue ball. He gave off the most creepy vibe; the shorter Hispanic man wasn’t as violent looking, “Kinda hoping someone tries something. I’ve wanted to try out this.”

The man waved the large gun in his hand with a sick smile that twisted your stomach. That was the moment you’d realized something was very wrong. The second they left, you gently dropped back on the ground. Your first instinct was to send a message to Athena, but there was a fatal flaw. You’d expected to be in and out of the building quickly, so you’d left your phone in the car.

“Fuck.” You swore. One hand roughly running over your forehead as you contemplated figuring out a plan.

The building had many cameras throughout that you knew the blindspots for. The year after high school and during the summers, you’d worked in the building. Despite having worked here when you were younger, it was never during Sue’s shift. Over the years, you’d come to know the blind spots and a few cameras that were decoys. You even remembered Maddie and her friend Josh complaining about three cameras not fixed yet.

“Think.” You breathed, making a pattern of pacing, “They’ll need a lookout. They’ll take out the security guard first. The front doors are out. It’s a team, so they’ll also need eyes on the building. Terry is definitely a hostage.”

Of course, you’d end up in a volatile situation during the first half of your day before your shift started. The only comforting thing about the situation was the holstered gun on your hip and the badge on your belt. Maybe you should backtrack to why you had a gun and badge; you were an LAPD member, specifically SWAT.

“The changeroom.” You breathed, recalling it was down the hall with no camera. All you needed to do was pretend to be a dispatcher. The changeroom, now mostly a file room, had a few extra maroon and blue uniform shirts.

You timed it. The man holding Sue’s tablet was in the process of talking with his cohort, so you dashed to the room. You took no time in changing into a loose maroon shirt with your thick sweater overtop to hide the gun in the small of your back.

Your holster, badge and personal shirt tucked in the bottom of a box for safekeeping. As soon as you saw your entry, you sat with the group of hostages a hall over. A few looked surprised but let it go when you raised one finger to your lips.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Maddie hissed from the other side of a startled Josh. Both of them were surprised at seeing you here, “Oh my god. Buck is going to kill me.”

“I was dropping off your book before I get breakfast with Buck, but it appears my small bladder saved my life.” You snarked with your eyes scanning the room, “What’s going on?”

“That is my date from hell, Greg.” Josh inconspicuously pointed towards the man, clearly giving orders. The anger flared inside you, “You need to get out.”

“Josh, no offence, but I’m an officer with the LAPD. I work with SWAT. I’m your best bet of making it out alive.” You informed the dispatch duo, who went still as Cue Ball patrolled the hallway with a sadistic glint in his eyes.

“They took control of the building for a reason we don’t know about. We’re still working but under strict monitoring. They said it will be an hour, but we’ve seen their faces.”

“No witnesses.” You finished for Maddie with a deep sigh, “Unfortunately I left my phone in the car. Did they take yours-”

“They took Linda’s EpiPen. Of course, we don’t have phones.” Maddie sighed, leaning back to rest her head against the wall. Not even having a SWAT member by her side was comforting; your badge put a more significant target on you.

“We have to warn someone.” Josh mumbled to both Maddie and you, “You’re on shift Y/N?”

“Not for a few hours. I was supposed to drop off the book and get breakfast with Buck before my shift. This was supposed to be five minutes tops, so I left my phone in my car.”

“I already did.” Maddie spoke with a sad look on her face that overtook the fear, “I just hope he gets the message.”

Your hand reached out to squeeze the woman you’d had a hand in raising Buck more than their parents. Maddie had become family when you first started dating Buck. The in-law part of her familial relationship to you never crossed your minds; you were simply sisters to each other.

“Who?”

“Chim. I told him I loved him.” Maddie finished with a teary gaze. It made you sick seeing that look again after Doug.

You remembered seeing that haunted look when she stumbled out of the thicker woods covered in blood. You’d stayed by Athena’s side when Buck clutched her so tight and sobbed with her. It had been before you’d become serious with the man, but it was that frightening day that Buck fell for you. You’d just finished a taxing shift with your team when you heard about Maddie was missing, and Chim was in the hospital. You’d ignored the exhaustion to search high and low through your work contacts before narrowing the search area.

“Good thing Chimney obsesses over the little things.” You spoke, slouching down against the wall, “We’ll get throu-”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Maddie warned you with her brows furrowed together, and you saw what she was doing. Despite your years of experience and the gun you had, she pushed her fear down behind the concern that a big sister shows her young siblings.

“I won’t.”

At 8am, Buck was just entering the apartment building from grabbing the mail addressed to both you and him when Chim had called.

“Yup, go for Buck.” Buck spoke, opening the door to the apartment he’d only temporarily left. His morning had been late after his long shift the night before. The most productive thing was dressing for his breakfast date with you and grabbing the mail.

“How come 9-1-1 doesn’t respond when I call?” Chimney questioned the younger, now confused male.

“Uh, is that some kind of riddle? Like who watches the watchmen?” Buck asked, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned around for any indication you’d returned home, but the bowl was vacant of your keys.

“Neither of those things are riddles. Okay, I just tried calling 9-1-1, and I got the high call volume message. Did I miss an earthquake or something?”

“Nope, pretty chill morning.” Buck responded as he closed the fridge door with a bottle of water in hand. The entire conversation wasn’t concerning to him, given that Chimney was often like this.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s the police she’ll know-”

“She’s not home right now. Wait, why are you calling 9-1-1? Is everything okay?” Buck slowly asked with his brows coming together. The sigh of frustration from Chimney was answer enough.

“Your sister said that she loved me.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that uh, the whole point in that big date you had last night?” Buck inquired on his way to the table. He had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation that would hopefully pass the time until you got home.

“You declare your love, and she declares hers? That’s how it went with Y/N and me.”

“Yeah, I know, okay, but she didn’t, all right? At least not last night. Look, she made this big deal saying that she couldn’t say those words, and then this morning, she blurts them out and hangs up on me.” Chimney speaks, pacing in his own apartment. The side by the side of Chimney and Buck’s separate apartments told different tales of their states.

“It’s still not quite sounding like an emergency.”

“’Cause I sound insane.” Chimney spoke, staring up at the ceiling with a battle in his mind. He wants Buck to talk him out of this, but he also wants Buck to agree with him, “She’s at the call centre. What could happen there? You know what, forget it, I’ll try Y/N again.”

“Again?” Buck questioned just as his co-worker ended the call. Buck tugged his phone away from his ear to stare at it confused.

You always answered the phone if you weren’t working at the moment, but given you still had hours, he found it unsettling. After seeing the news report with the ladder truck on top of him, calls weren’t ignored between you two. That feeling of concern grew when you didn’t answer his call either. Nor the second one.

“Nah, she’s probably talking with Maddie.” Buck spoke, but that second-guessing feeling didn’t dissipate. 

In the call centre, you’d been marched to one of the stations with a deep hope that you’d remember everything. It had been years by then since you’d worked as a dispatcher. It didn’t help with the gunmen patrolling the room.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” You calmly questioned the caller.

“Hi, my cat is up the tree by my house. Could you send someone?”

“Can I get your name?” You went through the motions of getting her name and address before you informed the woman, “Okay, the LAFD and LAPD no longer respond to calls of cats in trees. The cat will make its way down on its own. If the tree is in your backyard, I’d use the time to garden or read a book on this beautiful day.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem. Having a wonderful day Susan.”

In no time at all, you’d been rotated into the board room away from Josh and Maddie. It gave you time to inspect everyone you hadn’t made contact with yet. No one appeared harmed other than in distress with the situation.

“Downtown. They don’t want anyone downtown.” Linda whispered as Maddie was guided onto the floor by the elbow. You’d only gathered her name from her near-silent introduction to you when the hired guns had been far from your area.

“Let’s go.” Greg snapped, roughly pushing you towards the conference room. Something deep in your gut already predicted that someone was going to be stupid.

It was your sharp eyesight catching the minuscule agitation in Greg’s interactions with the Cue Ball guy. The slight tightening of his grip on the gun, the tension in the room growing stifling. And everyone knows that when emotions run high stupid things happen.

“Why do they keep moving us around like this?” The man beside Maddie questioned. He was definitely the most shaken of the group. He was basically shaking like a chihuahua.

“To disorient us.” Maddie spoke, staring at the group monitoring the dispatchers currently in play. Her eyes refused to leave them.

“So, we can’t make a plan.” You finished for your sister-in-law. Objectively out of everyone, Maddie, Sue and you were the most collected individuals for various reasons.

Maddie had lived in a volatile house with a man that could be unpredictable if a situation called for it in his mind. Sue had been working in the centre for years to navigate the emergency while you walked into dangerous situations.

“Jamal.” The shaking man spoke, holding his hand out towards you, “Are you new?”

“No.” You spoke as you shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Maddie’s sister-in-law. I’m filling in as a favour for Sue.”

The lie slipped off your lips a little too quickly. You decided to come to this hostage situation as if you were undercover. It meant having to ignore that Maddie was in the situation with you.  

“Worst day for a favour.” Jamal snorted with his eyes pinned on one of the armed men holding all your lives in their hands. You’d have spoken, but Jamal checked out mentally from the conversation waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe dropped when the IT Specialist announced numbly, “Jake’s dead. They shot him.”

It didn’t matter how long you’d been working for the LAPD, any death, whether it was a civilian or a criminal, it was still was startling. Jake, the security guard that alternated shifts with Lucy, wasn’t someone you spoke with. He was on shift when you weren’t here or just missed the shift change.

“We need to get a message out.” Jamal spoke, glancing at the only people in the right state of mind, and those were Maddie, Josh and you. Terry had seen the violence these men had no issues with.

“I did.” Josh breathed, thinking of the arguably cute security guard he sometimes liked to stare at, “A woman called about onions in an omelette. I dispatched an officer.”

“To the restaurant?” Maddie inquired with her pinkie connected with yours for comfort. Both of you would prefer your SO’s hand instead.

“Not exactly.” Josh replied, staring at his best friend with a glimpse of hope in his brown eyes.

Hope may be the only way you could get out of this without hurting anyone in your admittedly surface level plan.

“Buck will think something is up.” You added 

Buck had begun pacing the kitchen of the apartment with Chim adamantly telling his friend his plan to go to the centre. Buck had joined Chimney in the concerned department when you had failed to return to the apartment, return calls and to make matters worse, so was Maddie. His texts had gone unanswered as well, not even having the read receipt on.

“She’s not picking up either. I tried Y/N and Josh, but neither replied. When I tried Maddie and Josh, it went straight to voicemail.”

“Now, I’m definitely going.” Chimney announced, shoving his wallet into his pocket just as someone began knocking on his door.

“What if something is wrong? I know Y/N is a member of SWAT but radio silence? No text to let me know she was called in early?” Buck thought aloud with his finger dragging along his thigh, “Maybe we should call the police.”

“I...think someone already did.” Chimney informed Buck as he stared at the sudden appearance of Sergeant Athena Grant at his door.

“What? What do you mean?” Buck hastily questioned, leaning against the kitchen island. He could just faintly hear Athena speaking on Chimney’s end of the phone, “Chimney? What’s going on?”

“Athena was sent to my apartment. Hang on, Buck, I’m just gonna tell Athena what’s going on.”

Buck stepped away from the island to settle on the stairs to the loft, impatiently waiting for Chimney to finish speaking. That fear of losing pieces of his life expanded deep in his gut, just like the times Maddie left in his childhood. That fear of being left behind.

“What’s she’s saying now?”

“She’s making her case.” Chim whispered as he continued to eavesdrop on Athena’s call with her higher-ups, “Now she’s folding like a cheap suit.”

“All right, let me talk to Athena.” Buck demanded antsy to figure out the situation that clearly had something wrong. That fear he’d thought of early flared catching the tail end of Athena’s conversation, “No! No, no. We can’t just send in SWAT. If there is someone inside the call centre doing something, they’ll know we’re onto them.”

Unfortunately, Buck was correct in this thought process, all thanks to living with a SWAT member. He knew these things after the years he’d been with you.

“Maddie? I think I can sneak up to Terry’s computer. Maybe get eyes on the place-”

“No!” Terry nearly shouted, stiffening when Cue Ball hesitated in the doorway at his sudden shouts. You all held your breath for his reaction, but thankfully he was called away by one of the men, “They have-”

“Terry, I need you to calm down. I’m familiar with these types of situations. I’m SWAT. I need to get on top of this. Don’t be a hero.”

Maddie’s head began to shake when your arm was roughly grabbed by Greg, “Your turn.”

You were separated from Josh and Maddie, but instead of being pushed into one of the dispatcher seats, you were pulled to the original hallway.

“I don’t like how friendly you are with them.” Greg spat, shoving you to rest against the wall, “Don’t move.” 

You catch the eyes of Maddie with an apologetic expression before you used the pacing routine to sneak away. You didn’t release your breath until you were attaching your holder to your hip in the change room. By now, your team would be aware that something was wrong, Hondo would be hell-bent on finding you.

Until you had help, you were on your own.

You used each blindspot of the cameras in the halls to the stairwell, and you used a broom to adjust the cameras. The cameras not kept you from view but not appearing suspicious. Once at the floor where Terry was practically always at you softly closed the door. 

You’d only started to sit down when you heard the ding of the elevator, “Shit.”

You slipped into the closest containing extra parts if anything broke. Through the crack, you saw Terry being held at gunpoint. The gunman that had been holding the tablet on the floor, Ellis as you’d heard.

“You’re telling me every cop in the city has just disappeared?” Ellis demanded as Terry, and he disappeared around one of the corners. The tapping of a screen indicating Ellis was searching for something with Terry’s involuntary help.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know!” Terry snapped back, creating even more tension in the room, but Ellis didn’t move to grab his gun.

Ellis appeared to the only one reluctant to discharge your weapon, unlike Cue Ball, who just happened to join the party.

“Figure it out!” Ellis spat, turning on his heel at the sound of approaching footsteps. You could see him roll his eyes at his team member walking into the room.

“What’s going on here?” Cue ball questioned the duo in different kinds of distress, and you swore Cue Ball enjoyed the intimidation from his teammate and the IT specialist.

“That police car’s not the only one that’s gone dark.” Ellis nervously spoke, stiffening for the volatile reaction that one could expect from Foster.

“You think they know we’re here?” 

“Foster, it could be a system glitch.” Ellis offered keeping one eye on Cue Ball while monitoring Terry’s work as well.

Cue Ball spoke a sentence that sent chills up your spine, “Time to cut our losses.”

As Foster and Ellis began going over their personal plans made out of Greg’s knowledge, you noticed Terry glance over. His eyes widened slightly before quickly looking away when you raised a finger across your lips.

“We can go down the back stairs. I have a car waiting around the corner, we split the art up between the five of us, and we go our separate ways.” Foster spoke, revealing his plan to double-cross Greg, which in all honesty made sense. Greg was ill-fitting to be in charge of their operation, unable to control his lackeys.

“I like that part of the deal.” Ellis breathed, skirting around the trigger happy criminal only to halt in his steps, “Wait, you’ve got a car parked down the street? You were always gonna double-cross Greg.”

“You weren’t?”

“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t just sell famous works of art on eBay.”

“You can’t sell them from prison either.”

At that moment, something almost shifted in the area, something that made you pull your gun from your holster. Your body telling you something was about to happen. It happened in a split second. Foster fled the room leaving only Ellis just outside. With Terry frantically shaking his head, you tiptoed to the unsuspecting criminal.

“LAPD!” You shouted, pointing your gun towards the shocked man, “Put the gun down and put your hands up.”

“Aren’t you a dispatcher?” Ellis questioned, blinking in surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be intelligent? Next time check the schedule I haven’t worked here in years.” You spat, keeping your gun pointed on him, “Do I say-”

The sound of two guns going off made Terry flinch and scream as he instinctively dropped to the ground. IT was supposed to be safe, but Terry had now heard three gunshots in under two hours. He really didn’t want to see the outcome of the shots.

A moan coaxed Terry to peek out through the privacy glass. Ellis was on the ground while you kept your gun on him. He didn’t see anything else when the power went out. He didn’t see you drop to your knees, but he heard you.

“Terry...get down. Lay on your stomach with your hands insight, and don’t move.” You informed the terrified IT just as the floor was swarmed.

“Put the gun down!” The sound of Tan’s voice was welcoming as you slowly placed the gun on the ground. “25-David I have Y/L/N. The suspect is down, need medical.”

You got back to your feet when Tan nodded his head, “Thank god. There’s a possible body in the IT room along with the It Specialist Terry.”

“You got your badge on you?” Tan questioned as he cuffed the moaning Ellis up, “Street can you escort her down?”

Street nodded from his position, watching Tan’s back before guiding you to the stairs with hawk eyes. Even off duty, you kept your head on a swivel.

“You caused quite the commotion.” Street spoke halfway down the stairs when you barely mumbled. He caught you as you went down like a sack of potatoes, “Y/N!”

“Adrenaline is crashing.” You moaned, looking at your shoulder where the maroon had grown darker, “I think he shot me.”

“26-David I’m in the stairway. Prepare a medic.” Street spoke into his radio before he strapped the gun away and swept you into his arms, “Think you can have my back?”

“When don’t I?” You wheezed, with the sweat starting to bead on your forehead. As you crashed from adrenaline, you barely noticed being placed on the ground at the main entrance.

A paramedic cutting your borrowed shirt to reveal the bullet hole in your shoulder courtesy of Ellis, the only member who’d thought wouldn’t shoot his gun. You could vaguely hear Maddie calling out your name as you were loaded onto a gurney.

“M-Maddie?” You spoke, tilting your head to see Chris holding Maddie back from, “Chris! That’s my sister in law.”

Chris only let Maddie go when Hondo gave the all-clear, and you were so thankful when Maddie’s hand encased yours.

“Don’t close your eyes.” Maddie pleaded sick with the amount of blood on your skin and soaking through the gauze, “Who’s gonna help me put up with my little brother?”

“Buck.” You breathed sluggishly, blinking as the artificial lights changed to natural with the gun shining through the glass front doors.

“You didn’t let me close mine in that ambulance, so I need you to do the same. Don’t close them. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” Maddie cried as an officer pulled her aside as you were stopped. You wouldn’t remember it, but Maddie had to watch as you coded right in front of her.

Maddie had to watch them perform CPR on you and fight for a pulse. She had to think of how’d she’d tell her little brother she’d killed his fiance. The counting of the paramedics sounded as if underwater, and as they did, the world went quiet. Her mind checked out as the trauma settled in.

Maddie stumbled out of the building into a zoo of officers, medics, and news reporters almost robotically. She barely felt Chimney hug her, but she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

“It’s all my fault.” Maddie gasped, collapsing against him, “If I had-”

“Maddie?”

Chimney felt Maddie stiffen at the sound of Buck’s voice amidst the multiple voices milling around. Maddie raised her gaze to meet Buck’s blue eyes dripping in relief and question.

“Buck.”

“Maddie, where’s Y/N? Her car…” Buck trailed off, catching the utter heartbreak in his big sister’s eyes. A look he’d come to know in his line of work as a firefighter. The utter devastation that came with watching someone you love die, “No. No.”

“I got a pulse!” Came from the nearest ambulance, and Buck skirted around his sister and Chimney, “Ready to transport!” 

Your eyes slowly blinked at the white ceiling of the ambulance with pain in your midsection courtesy of chest compressions. Breathing came painful, and the bullet wound throbbed, but it all faded when you saw blue eyes above you.

“Buck.” You sobbed, more like groaned, as he was urged to sit on the bench holding your hand, “Maddie?”

“She’s okay. Chim’s got her. Can you keep your eyes on me? I need to see those big beautiful e/c eyes.” Buck soothed, bringing your hand to his lips, “Did I ever tell you my favourite colour?”

Despite Buck’s best attempts, you continued fading in and out of consciousness but continued to be stable. He spoke about the funny video Eddie had shown him of Christopher at the end of their shift last night. He talked about everything and anything under the sun during the short ride to the hospital.

The last thing you saw was Buck being held back as the paramedics pushed the gurney into the ER. Everything turned black.

The beeping was the first thing you heard before your eyes fluttered open to a stark white room and that unmistakable hospital scent. You noticed the second thing as Buck holding your hand in both of his with his forehead pressed against them.

“Buck?” You moaned to the one person you had wished to see. The man whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, “What’s wrong?”

“Your heart stopped beating twice. I thought I was gonna lose you.” Buck cried with his lips pressed against your hand, “I was so worried.”

“Hey. I’m fine. I’m here.” You cooed, tugging one hand away to run through his messy hair with a soft smile. His blue eyes brighten at the familiar feeling of your digits in his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t here for decoration.”

His eyes found the ring he’d gently placed back on your finger from when the nurses had removed it. It only left your finger when you were on duty, in which it was slung on a necklace hidden under your uniform.

“Better not be.”

“Does the hospital have a chapel?” You questioned out of the blue leading to Buck snorting as you giggled, “I’m serious. When I was bleeding in that building, all I could think about was you. If Maddie is anything like you, she’s waiting in the waiting room with Chimney.”

“You aren’t wrong. All the chairs are taken. Our family was waiting for you to wake up.” Buck breathed, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?”

“About marrying you?” You softly questioned the man who couldn’t help but believe this was a dream. How he’d somehow got the girl of his dreams to agree to marry his ass, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. All I want to share is your last name for the rest of my life. You are it for me, Evan Buckley. All the flaws you see are beautiful to me.”

“Only you would want to get married after being shot mere hours ago.” Buck chuckled with a sigh pulled from his pink lips, “I’ll get the doctor for you and find out if we can be married here.”

While you were checked out, Buck left the room to go back to the waiting room where the 118 and your co-workers waited. Everyone perked up at his appearance, Christopher asleep on Eddie’s lap.

“Is she okay?” Bobby questioned as the tension in the room grew more and more. It shattered into relief when Buck grinned.

“She’s sore as expected. She’s gonna catch some sleep, but she’d like to see Maddie.” Buck replied, pinning his gaze on his big sister with her curled into Chimney’s body. Her cheeks flooded with tears of absolute relief, “C’mon.”

The waiting room started emptying with Buck’s promise to keep everyone updated, but before Bobby could step away, Buck asked for him.

“Do you need a few days off?” Bobby questioned just as Buck came closer to the seasoned firefighter.

“No. But could you spare an hour?” The expression on Buck’s face was enough for Bobby not to ask any further questions. He simply followed Buck back towards your hospital room, where Maddie and Chim waited.

“What’s going on?” Bobby inquired, with the addition of the hospital assigned Priest holding the standard bible. Chimney could only shrug in response to whatever was going on.

“I know there have been times we haven’t seen eye to eye, but Bobby, you’re like a father to me. You gave me chance after chance when anyone else would have given up. You guided me on how to be a man. Y/N and I would like it if you’d be here for this.”

“Wait, are you getting married? What about the wedding?” Maddie spluttered, flicking her gaze between her brother and you. Her question surprised her boyfriend and Bobby.

“We’ll still have it. But I want to marry her without the pressure of our parents. Just a private ceremony with some of the people that mean the most to us.” Buck answered for the two of you, “Would you stay?”

“Of course.” Maddie softly spoke with a slideshow of memories playing in her mind of watching Buck grow up.

Watching Evan go through all kinds of injuries, all in the name of attention but never getting it the way he deserved it. She remembered giving him advice for asking out Donna and holding him when he was rejected. The little toddler with the impish grin somehow turned into an idiot in the hospital.

Maddie saw the man her little brother had turned into with the help of the 118 and you.

Buck’s fingers made quick work of buttoning his short-sleeve uniform with the sudden appearance of his friend.

“That’s new.” Eddie spoke from his opened locker holding his uniform and a picture of his family on the door. It was a picture of Christopher, Buck, you and Eddie from the zoo a couple months back.

Buck looked over at his best friend, “Hm?”

“The ring.” Eddie snorted dramatically, looking at the ring that had been living on his finger since he married you five days ago, “Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“Nah, we just got married in the hospital. We’re still planning the wedding to appease both sides of our family. And I promised Christopher he could be in the wedding. With Y/N on medical leave, the planning will be faster. She’s going stir crazy after five days.” Buck finished tucking in the shirt into his work-issued pants. Lastly, he slid his ring onto the metal chain he had bought recently.

Like you did, he would wear it around his neck when working for safety reasons.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Eddie told his friend just as the bell rang, “You’ll have to tell me how you’re liking the married life.”

“But first, we have a job to do.” Buck supplied all the while jogging to suit up in his turnout gear with Hen and Chimney.

[inhibited-irregularity]

Thoughts on Eurovision 2022 that nobody asked for:

*All highly subjective and possibly rude

- Not a fan of the hosts. They're clumsy af, and while they may be cool individually, they made everything a bit awkward. Also tired of the exaggerated flirting. Also, Mika shouldn't be allowed to sing in a low register.

Onto the performances:

🇦🇱 Liked her energy, the beat was catchy, but it was a bit too racey for family TV ngl. Love the parts where she just yells aggressively. Would follow her to battle (ok, as a Serbian, not THAT battle (lol jk hope that stays in the past)) She may not have qualified, but she became a certified icon.

🇱🇻 Eh. Obviously I'm on board with the ICONIQUE moment that made history, but overall, the song wasn't that good, sorry not sorry.

🇱🇹 Monika my lovely! She's beauty and she's grace (and the good kind of crazy) and the song low-key slaps. Also she just did her thing and obviously lived in the moment, and was overall refreshing. Good for her.

🇨🇭 Nothing against the guy personally, but WHY.

🇸🇮 ROBBED. Adorable kiddos with the good song deserved so much better. Also, such a pleasant vocal and sound overall.

🇺🇦 Sorry, doesn't deserve the hype. I love the chorus and the flute, but the rap part is just (???) There. And be mad at it as much as you'd like, but if they score high, it will mostly be political. I am usually a fan of what Ukraine sends, but ngl they had better songs in the past that didn't even get to go to esc. That being said, I don't think they didn't deserve to be in the final. They're just not top 10 material.

🇧🇬 Well, I want that guy's confidence, but it was not proportional to what they were putting out there. They weren't rocking as hard as they think they did. If they were going for classic, they gave us outdated.

🇳🇱 One of the most overrated songs of the year. Indie-pop bands of 2014. want their melody back. The song is so stuck in that particular period of hipster sound that the singer apparently went through entire puberty in the same jacket.

🇲🇩 For the general public, amazing, refreshing, original. As an Eastern-European, a bit shticky. Užičko kolo but make it punk. Not mad at it tho.

🇵🇹 I don't care, it's LOVELY. And all the "puts me to sleep" people need to check their attention spans. It's soothing af, I WANT to fall asleep to it (slight bias cos l have a crush on the singer)

🇭🇷 It wasn't bad? Nothing spectacular, but such a sweet voice and a pleasant melody. But girl, the outfit was... a choice.

🇩🇰 Do not come for them. While I get why they didn't qualify, they're dear to me because 4 middle-aged women having fun on stage? AMAZING. I feel like they achieved what Bulgaria was going for. The drummer made this years "people I have a crush on" list as well.

🇦🇹 I feel like the staging f-ed them over and maybe they got a bit overexcited (and it affected their energy). Wasn't very good live unfortunately, but the song is a certified bop and there I say next big European summer hit. Points for being adorable. The lyrics were also a good kind of quirky. Sad they didn't qualify, was rooting for them.

🇮🇸 Liked the song, but nothing to write home about.

🇬🇷 People love it so much that I'm surely missing something? I'll give it another shot, but it was capital b Bland. The singing wasn't impressive either.

🇳🇴 One of my favorites this year. The idea might have been shticky, but they committed so much that they overcame it and perfected it while not going into overly-produced, and hit the just-the-right-amount of polished. Also you can't convince me that that's actually not What does the fox say guy in disguise.

🇦🇲 Just WHY. Another song stuck in 2014, but unlike the Netherlands who tried to out-hipster the hipsters, this person apparently only listened to the Lumineers.

🇫🇮 To quote a meme, peaked in high-school energy. Sesame street, but make it emo. Expected more. Juvenile lyrics. They slided to the final solely on their past glory. Didn't deserve to qualify.

I*rael - First of all, if Russia is banned from the competition, they shouldn't have the right to compete as well given the shit they do in Palestine, but apparently, the EU is selectively humanitarian, surprise, surprise. Politics aside, that guy is one of the most obnoxiously people ever to grace the esc stage, and overall rude and disrespectful. The performance itself was a "safe" act on RuPauls drag race. (This being said, you can criticize him without being homophobic, and just as the people of Russia don't deserve to be bullied for the actions of their government, there's no excuse to be Anti-semitic or bully regular Israeli folks)

🇷🇸 She should win. Absolute perfection. Immaculate. The lyrics. The layers. The delivery. Godstrakta, everyone. No national bias btw, I hated most of our entries.

🇦🇿 Song was a snooze, but he was the best male vocal of the evening. The singing was perfection. Not mad at it.

🇬🇪 Love that they're always themselves and unconventional. This just wasn't my cup of tea tho, and the buildup was too long. I can see prog-rock fans enjoying it. Nika Kocharov still remains my favorite Georgian weirdo.

🇲🇹 Prefered the first song, it was a decent pop ballad (yes, there is too much ballads). Her voice was on point and she has a great stage presence, but the song was just one pile of PANDERING. Melody goes to the Bulgaria pile. Wishing her luck in the future, she's likeable.

🇸🇲 Didn't think I'd like it, but now I'm lamenting that he didn't qualify. At first I falsely assumed that he was a Måneskin wannabe, but au contraire, Achille is an established artist. Was it shticky? Yes. Did I absolutely fall for it? Also yes. He delivered and left the competition a legend. And yes, it was sexy af. Will download. Shout-out to the guitarist and the brilliance that was the mechanical bull.

🇦🇺 Again, WHY. For such a generic song, I expected better vocals and more drama. Thinking of revoking Australia's esc privileges. Cool outfit tho.

🇨🇾 A perfectly made dish with no seasoning. Trusted formula would've worked, but the energy was tragically lacking. Waiting for Eleni or a Balkan folk diva to cover it properly.

🇮🇪 The song was a generic pop-bop that I knew will depend on the performance and HOLY SHIT she s l a y e d. The voice was there, the energy was there, the SASS was there, and I have no idea why she didn't qualify.

🇲🇰 Sorry, not a fan. Way to nasal for my taste and while she's very pretty, there was something unsettling about her. I do not want to test her limits, so that's good.

🇪🇪 WHY. While they had some great entries (Stig Rasta and Elina, La Forza opera lady), they're on their merry way of becoming the new Sweden. I swear they've been sending the same conventionally attractive white-bread guy in his mid-30s every year. Also, quit sampling/copying Avicii already, we're over it.

🇷🇴 ROMANIA singing in Spanish? Sure to be a bop? Right?... Right? No. Disappointed. I was glad he was going for the golden age of Eurovision sound, but it was flat. I wish Ireland or San Marino qualified over him, and I hope Spain out-spanishes them.

🇵🇱 Surprisingly, I am a fan. Way less generic than I thought it would be, catchy, his voice is wonderful. He did struggle a bit, but hopefully, he sings it to his full potential in the final.

🇲🇪 Boring staging, but not the worst ballad, and the singing was excellent, although I do feel like the nerves got to her. Not mad she didn't qualify, but I think she deserved it more than the guy from Switzerland.

🇧🇪 BABY. Precious. Baby. Yes, not the most original track, yes it does remind me of Cry me a river by Justin Timberlake, but the song is early 2000s nostalgia done properly. And the boy CAN SING! I think he had a cold or sth tho, but he's serious competition if he recovers for the finale.

🇸🇪 Good song. Sweden finally figured out how to do pop without being generic. Like it. Am in love with Cornelia. Her voice makes me happy.

🇨🇿 Not a fan. Mikolas was the last Chezh entry that I liked. Ever since, they've painfully been trying to be *urban*. Tired of that Calvin Harris sound, and the performance wasn't my favorite. I knew it would qualify tho, people seem to eat it up every time.

🇮🇹 The song itself kinda grew on me, especially Blanco's parts. Expected more from Mahmood, both musically and vocally. That being said. It's a bit iffy and creepy. Mahmood, please don't be inappropriate with that kid. Come on, be better than that.

🇬🇧 The guy should be a national treasure. Please vote for him, he deserves more than 0 points. And I've been feeling sorry for British artists in esc lately, lol. If someone should break the curse, it's him. I like it very much. Not top 5 material tho. I guess it will depend on the performance.

🇫🇷 One of my favorites. And I hope they score highly, just to stick it to the French government. There should be a song like this every year (Go_a, you're not forgotten)

🇪🇸 Didn't like it at first, reminded me of americanized Latin pop (think Camila Cabello), but I might change my mind, according to the snippet from yesterday. If she manages to be high-energy, she's golden. It will come to the performance. Not gonna be surprised if she gets to top 10, but not gonna be surprised by 0 points either.

🇩🇪 It's growing on me. Much like Spain, we'll have to wait and see.

[sweetestlamb]

Put On A Show

Summary: Cha-young goes to her high school reunion and brings a certain mafia guest. 

Author's note: I heard someone wanted a on top and in control CY so here it is! I already had this idea about a HS reunion so I simply combined the two ideas and got this smutty brainchild. This is rated E for extremely dirty so read at your own discretion, I planned on writing more fics of them pining but I really do love a women in control so I took a break from my cockblocking to fill this prompt. Hope you enjoy ;) 

Dear class of 2005,

That time has come once again, our class reunion! This year's reunion will be held in the Phoenix Hall in honor of us all rising from the ashes of this pandemic and being reborn stronger than ever before! Tickets available for purchase below. There are separate tickets for food and drinks and this year's theme will be luxury: a life of decadence. We look forward to seeing you all.

Cha-young skims the email that had initially landed in her spam folder, only the name of her old high school attached in the subject line catches her attention enough to make her open the otherwise nondescript email.

Another high school reunion.

She had been evading these gatherings like the plague itself, ever since the last time she'd made the mistake of going to one. She had just landed her job at Wusang Firm and finally felt confident in herself, in high school she'd always been the loud one and the weird one but now she was a lawyer and a damn good one if she said could say so herself. Nobody could dismiss her now or jokingly remind her of the bowl cut she had sported before, she was always the butt of their jokes and she was tired of feeling small beneath their condescending thumb. She finally had something worth bragging about. 

She'd stepped in with a smirk on her face, tight black dress and heels clicking as she walked waving at people she knew but didn't deign important enough to stop her entrance for a chat. The buffet table was her sole destination but she'd been intercepted by familiar annoying high pitched voices, Chang Ae-ram and Bom Min-he, the popular girls in her school and the banes of her existence both rushed over to her with drinks in their hands.

They never had anything kind to say to her and seemed to seek her out simply to put her down or remind her of how much of a “pathethic loser” she was in high school, as if she hadn’t been the one living her life. 

The verbal sparring began almost immediately, with them all battling for lead in the "my life is going great" contest, coyly listing their accolades and accomplishment and assertively she told them both about her new job at one of Korea's most successful and well known law firm.

"Oh." Ae-ram answered with a tight smile that pulled her surgically enhanced face into a wrinkleless grin. 

Score.

She sipped her drink feeling victorious as they both avoided her brazen eye contact. She had just opened her mouth to make her leave when a vindictive smile stretched over Min-he's face, "A job is so important but what about a family? Surely you don't plan on dying alone, how come you never bring anyone with you? We're all so sad that you don't have anyone still." She gripped the stem of her wine glass at the fake concern, suddenly the group was larger and everyone was congratulating Min-he on her engagement, the other woman waving the huge diamond on her finger in her face.

It was so vapid and stupid and she knew that it didn't make her any less of a woman that she didn't have a man but those words still burned. She had noticed that everyone was paired up and she was one of the only people who came alone, she'd been seeing someone before the reunion but at her mention of the gathering he had told her that "things were getting too serious for him" rolling out of her bed while tugging on his underwear and that had been the last she heard from him.

She'd spent the rest of the night on the outskirts avoiding her college mates and later stumbled out on her heels unsteady from the amount of liquor she'd consumed.

That had been her last reunion. She'd pointedly ignored all the invitations since then, the shame of that night still stinging all those years later. They only served as a reminder that she still had no one and regardless of how successful she was at her career she would be deemed undesirable by others.

It was such a fucking joke but she couldn't shake the insecurity despite knowing how false it was.

The sound of keys jingling near the front door knock her free from her reminiscing and she spins around to the sight of Vincenzo struggling to squeeze through the entrance with several bags in his arms, he never wants to make more than one trip- the overachiever. She nods her head in hello before trudging over to him without closing her laptop, greeting him easily with a peck on the lips freeing a few bags from his hands.

"Did you get my cookies?" She asks again despite the various text messages she had sent reminding him about her sweet treats, he rolls his eyes at her again swinging another bag into her waiting hands.

"Here. When I told you to text me necessities, cookies are not what I had in mind." He flicks her forehead lightly silencing her cry of pain with a follow-up kiss to the spot, she grumbles but stuffs the soft baked chocolate chip cookies into her mouth, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk hoarding food for the winter.

Smooth as a well-oiled machine they put the groceries away, the sound of cabinets opening and closing the soundtrack for their movements. When everything is correctly put away, she makes her way back over to her laptop only then remembering what she'd been doing.

She stares at the screen contemplating her next move before she feels a familiar heavy weight on her shoulder, his breath is hot on her neck when he speaks, "What are you looking at?" He barely waits for her reply covering her hand on the sleek mouse, scrolling down to read the entire email. She waits anxiously in her seat as he reads the words out loud, obviously she had thought about him when she first received the email but her last experience had made her nervous about asking him to attend.

They hadn't been officially dating for long. They'd been too focused on taking down Babel and the aftermath had left them both with unanswered questions about the nature of their relationship. 

Only this time when she asked him the same question she'd been asking since he crash landed into her life unexpectedly, after everything  was over, he'd looked over at her and said in a small voice "Not if you want me to stay."

She'd been a coward and he had taken her silence as rejection and it had taken a dramatic and honestly cliché airport interruption, complete with her pushing past airport staff and screaming his name crying as they told her that the plane to Malta had already taken off.

She'd returned to her house with red rimmed eyes that widened into huge saucers at the sight of him in front of her house, large suitcase beside him.

Gasping she ran into his arms, as terrified as she'd felt that fateful night so long ago in the underpass. 

"I couldn't go."

He tugged her closer, burrowing his face in her thick hair and breathing harshly his voice was raw and rough like he'd been crying too.

"Because of me?" She asked shock laden in her words and that's when he drew away to stare into her eyes and with a defeated nod he said, "Because of you."

The rest had been history. He came inside with her and he hadn't left since.

"Are you going?"

She stills at the inquiry, head dizzy from the memories racing through her mind.

"What?"

He places a finger on the computer screen, "This reunion. Are you going?"

She feels a small sting in her chest at his words, with a sad smile she starts to shake her head in decline but then he chuckles, "We should go. I'll be your arm candy." He teases wagging his eyebrows in her peripheral.

Oh.

"You want to come with me?" She repeats stunned by his casual offer, this seemed huge for some reason and she could feel her heart pounding erratically in her brittle chest.

He finally straightens up walking off to the kitchen grabbing a cup, pulling the fridge open.

"Yeah I mean unless you have another boyfriend you want to bring with you."

She laughs at his joke but internally her blood sings, she didn't want to get her hopes up but now she can barely contain her happiness.

She can always count him to have her back.

Slamming the laptop shut she circumvents the chair running over to him, he looks at her with a raised eyebrow prying the cup of water from his hands she pulls him down into a grateful kiss. He hums low when she slips her tongue into his lax mouth, this kiss vastly different from the peck she'd greeted him with at the door.

She can taste the caffeine on his tongue, the strong flavor of his favorite espresso swirling around her taste buds, pushing him firmer into the counter she laps at his mouth eager for a deeper exploration. He melts under her touch letting her manhandle him and move his head as she sees fit, his complete surrender makes her hot under the collar.

It's with reluctance that she pulls away from his addicting lips.

She smirks as he sways into her body as if intoxicated.

"Sorry. We have to go soon, it's game night."

It's a weekly tradition at the plaza, tonight they're playing Taboo, it had been announced in the group chat that Mr. Nam had forced them to join. It was chaotic with so many different voices there but it made her feel warm, like they were their own little family.

He groans disappointed but nods slowly, adjusting himself discretely but not enough for her vigilant eyes. She stares at the hardon visible through the thin material of his sweatpants.

"Let's go before you get me any more excited." He grumbles, picking up the snacks he'd purchased for tonight. She smiles triumphantly at his back still in disbelief that she has that kind of power over the great Corn Salad, Vincenzo Cassano.

Game night is a success, filled with laughter and playful arguing. They all work together in pairs and their team loses horribly with her accidentally shouting out all the taboo words every time it's her turn. Mi-Ri and Larry Kang- from the dance studio make a great team using dance moves and inside jokes to solve their words in seconds much to everyone’s shock, they both adamantly deny any change in their relationship at the groups subsequent teasing.

Nobody believes them. 

Just like they hadn’t believed her and Vincenzo. 

They get home at midnight and both collapse before they can finish what they started earlier in the kitchen, but cuddling is great too. He’s always the little spoon. 

The reunion isn't a point of conversation again and she almost forgets about it completely until it's Saturday, the day of the event and she wakes up alone. It's not totally abnormal with him being a morning person but she still groans in annoyance at his disappearance. The bed is so cold without his body letting off heat like a human furnace.

The sun is high in the sky when she finally pulls herself out of bed much later, 12:45pm according to her phone and she sits up with a full body stretch, body popping and cracking.

"Vincenzo? Are you here?" She calls out to the empty house, receiving no reply.

With a sigh she goes to shower and brush her teeth, he should be back soon from wherever he went.

When she finally comes out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following her she pauses at the package on the bed. A huge white box catches her eye, the gold silken bow striking across the large rectangle. Taking a closer step she runs a finger across the smooth material in wonder.

There's a note and immediately she recognizes the distinctive penmanship.

Open me.

Not needing to be told twice she tugs the bow watching it unraveling before lifting the top of the box, peering inside with glowing eyes.

She lets out a soft gasp at the sight of the piercing white material that is almost perfectly camouflaged in the matching box. She lifts it with awe, watching material unfurl until she can see it clearly. It's a dress made from expensive fabric based on the its luxurious feel in her hands and her eyes widen at the cape that hangs lower than the dress itself.

"He was listening to me."

She remembers her group chat with the ladies from the plaza, sending them different options for her reunion and letting them help to pick it her outfit. She wanted something that would garner attention but that still felt like her, and that's when she'd seen it. The new Alexander Wang collection, all white blazer dress with a cape and button details, it looked like luxury and she knew it had to be hers.

The ladies had all been in agreement sending her thumbs up emojis and demanding that she purchase the stunning dress. She'd quickly added it to her cart but much to her dismay as she'd been entering her card information, that dreaded message popped up at the top of her screen.

This item is no longer available. Sorry, try again. 

Her heart had sunk and despite Miri's computer savvy and Yeon-Jin 's online shopping prowess they had not been able to locate the dress on any other site. It was sold out, everywhere.

Or so she thought.

Wordlessly she slips into the dress and surprisingly it fits like a glove, as if it was tailored just for her but that can't be.

"I'll zip that up for you."

She jumps at the dark voice behind her and then a chill runs up her spine at his fingertips on her bare back. He slides the thick curtain of her hair to the side to zip it up the rest of the way, their eyes meet in the full length mirror across the room.

"You look beautiful." He compliments easily, eyes caressing her body from her head down to her bare toes.

She feels like a goddess under his eyes.

"Where did you get this? It was sold out everywhere." She stares at him in wonder and he smiles at her gaping mouth, "I called in a favor. I knew a designer who owed me a favor." He shrugs as if it's nothing that he knows designers who are connected to the Alexander Wang, she's still not used to his influence.

Wait.

"Do you know Alexander Wang?" She shouts in surprise spinning to stare at him and his easy smile and open hand gesture is enough of an answer.

"I got your measurements from Mr.Tak. I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

Her nerves have been shot all week, it's true that they haven't discussed the reunion at all but that doesn't mean it hasn't been on a mind even haunting her dreams.

She didn't want to be embarrassed again. She knew that she shouldn't let them get to her, she didn't have to prove herself to anyone but for once she just wanted to make them all eat those condescending words. She wanted to show them that she was the same weird girl from high school but she was even more now, also a successful woman and there was nothing wrong with being both sides of those coins. 

Without her even saying one word he'd been able to detect how important this night was for her.

"Thank you." She breathes tears glistening on her eyes, he wraps both arms around her waist beaming at her in the mirror.

"Don't thank me yet you didn't even see the shoes yet."

Without waiting for her answer he steps away to lift a pair of sparkling shoes from the box, the red soles immediately notifying her of the exorbitant brand.

She gapes at the shoes and then a smirking Vincenzo and then back at the shoes, "Are you crazy? Are those Louboutin's?" She asks the obvious question turning the shoes over to stare at the vibrant scarlet soles. A certain Bronxite’s voice blaring in her head about blood shoes. 

"They did say the theme was luxury. I thought these were just right for you." Squealing like a kid in candy store she sits down on the bed with both shoes in hand, but before she can slip them on he's lowering himself to his knees. The sight is enough to stop her in her tracks, her traitorous imagination running wild at the implications and possibilities. When he takes the shoes from her loose grip she merely watches as he slides the shoes onto her feet, just like the dress they too fit perfectly.

"I feel like Cinderella." She chuckles trying to break the tension and the swell in her chest but his bright smile only makes her chest constrict tighter, she doesn't know if she'll survive tonight.

"Hong Cha-young!" She freezes at the sound of Ae-ram's squealing voice only pausing for a moment before turning with a tense smile.

Here we go.

The woman is flagged by her usual posse and parrots, who are always ready to echo her biting remarks and she gulps down her dirty martini needing some liquid courage.

As if sensing her unease instantly Vincenzo takes the hand that was artistically placed in the pocket of his fitting white dress pants and curls it around her waist, grounding her with the simple touch. She turns to him and he greets her with a calming smile that she can't help but return.

I've got your back. He says with only a slight lift of his lips.

She takes a deep breath.

Ae-ram's smile dims as she gets closer to them, her eyes honed on the hand on her hip and she leans fully into the warm body pressed against her side.

Min-he speaks first, an equally constipated smile on her face, "Who's this? You've never brought anyone before. Is this a work friend?" She almost rolls her eyes at the ridiculous question, as if work friends would be this comfortable with each other. They're already finding excuses, grasping at straws and creating complicated solutions for something that is easy to understand simply because they don’t think she’s worthy of attention. That large hand tightens lightly before a light chuckle reaches her ear, “Vincenzo Cassano, lawyer and the lucky man who gets to call her my mine.” She fidgets in his hold blushing at his bold introduction and watching all eyes widen at them, nobody speaks at first clearly in shock at the revelation. 

“Vinshenzo? What kind of name is that?” Someone harps from the back of the crowd and she feels her hackles rise, yes she might have struggled with the pronunciation of his name at first but it felt petty and intentional right now not an honest mistake like her mispronunciation had been. 

But before she can unleash her anger, another old classmates breaks the tense stalemate.

“Oh you’re the Italian lawyer I heard about on the new, who took down Babel! Great job!” 

She had also helped with that, them being a team but nobody seems to care about that all focusing on Vincenzo, all herding around her Italian like he’s a celebrity and she watches shock as he easily wins them over. 

“Sì, ero io. Il piacere è tutto tuo.” Yes that was me, the pleasure is all yours. 

The group minus Ae-ram and Min-he all oh and ah at his effortless Italian despite having no clue what exactly he just said, she too is clueless at the quickly stated sentence but the mischievous smirk on his handsome face informs her of all that she needs to know, he is mocking them right to their faces. She hides a smile behind her hands, pretending to cough into her fingers. 

Wordlessly, the group separates based on sex-she watches helplessly as Vincenzo is tugged away in a boisterous discussion about the state of Korean football- and she is left alone with those harpies but unlike the other reunions suddenly she is the most interesting woman there, regardless of Ae-ram trying to steal the show with pictures of her new full breed dog. She watches amused as the other woman is pushed aside and she is accosted on both sides, questions firing off like rockets. 

“Where did you meet him?”

“Does he have a brother?”

“When are you getting married? You have to marry him!”

“Does he always smell that good?”

She turns flabbergasted to hear that question coming from Ae-ram’s right hand woman, Min-he and Ae-ram glares at her looking betrayed before she storms off with her professional head shots of her dog. She expects Min-he to trail after the spiteful primadonna but to her shock the other woman moves in closer, joining the firing brigade with their million questions about the handsome Italian. 

They all settle down when the man they are so curious about returns, hand back on her waist like that its resting place. 

Her ears ring from their coos and shrill “awws” but she leans into him nonetheless happy to have him back, already exhausted dealing with these people. 

Then she notes that the tone of the questions suddenly shift as they begin to bombard the Italian Korean all at once. There are....more flirtatious when speaking to him and she feels her blood curl at the unprecedented change. 

“Are all Italians this handsome?” Her eye twitches at the bold inquiry, subconsciously she feels her eyes narrow into slits as she glares at the woman who was brave stupid enough to ask that. The bitch blanches at her sneer but still flutters her eyelashes at Vincenzo waiting for his response, she clears her throat loudly answering for him, “He’s one of a kind and fortunately all mine. “ She can feel the smug bastard preening next to her practically buzzing from her compliment, and she quickly makes their escape, “Please excuse us.” Vincenzo smoothly tips his drinks at the women, “Addio,” he bids farewell in Italian arm still hooked around her waist as she sashays away, Louboutin's clicking on the marble tile floor. 

The scrap of Italian leaves them all in a frenzy, whispering wildly behind them. 

She drags them to the bar, ordering two shots of soju and another dirty martini ignoring his examining stare. 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” She already knows the answer to her question, it’s written all over him and she tries to stifle the jealousy that wants to rear its  ugly head. 

He looks over at her with a lazy grin, trying to appear innocent. She isn’t fooled for one second. 

“Me? I’m not doing anything. I’m only here for you.” 

She scoffs at him, staring at his annoyingly handsome face and his gleaming white suit he discarded the jacket earlier and his arms have been distracting her all night. 

“You love the attention.” 

He rubs his neck before turning to her fully, leaning on the bar counter. 

“What? Are you jealous of the attention I’m getting? isn’t that why you brought me to make you look good?” 

She wants to deny it and laugh at him, but even now she can hear the voices in the distance all intrigued by the Italian and the bartender’s eyes linger just a minute too long as the smooth Lawyer throws his free shot back in one fluid motion. She should be used to it by now, everyone in a ten mile radius getting a hard on for the Korean Italian. She understands why he gets all this attention, he is gorgeous that was one of the many reasons that she had fallen for him too but sometimes it can be intimidating to be with someone that so many others desire and so obviously too. 

She wonders if she even deserves him. 

Was she enough for him? 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He taps her on her forehead dragging her from her self-deprecation. “Do you know why they’re all so mean to you?” He suddenly asks and she stares at him before shaking her head no. 

Probably because she’s a hot fucking mess. 

“They’re jealous of you.” 

A burst of laughter slips free at this speculation and she watches as his face tightens, “You really don’t know do you?” His voice is liquid fire, smoky and dark like the tendrils from a cigarette. 

“What are you talking about?” She manages to get out despite being lost in his voice. 

“How sexy you are.” He leans over to whisper directly in her heated ears, she moans lightly at his breath on her skin. 

That is hardly ever a word that she has heard used to describe her, Hong Cha-young. 

Clumsy. Forgetful. Selfish. Loud. Demanding. Too Much. 

Those words she had heard all her life but never sexy. She was too strange to be sexy. 

“You’re smart and beautiful and you have a successful career. You aren’t afraid to be yourself and now you have me on your arm. You have everything and they wish they were you, they’re jealous.” He repeats firmer this time, rubbing a large thumb across her bottom lip and grinning down at her with barely contained glee. 

She starts to deny his claim but then she looks behind her and sees nothing but a sea of envy, women and men both looking at them and she notes not all eyes are on Vincenzo a few men seemed lost in the low cut dip of her dress and the miles of naked skin on display. 

She gasps at the hard line that pokes at her bottom when he leans into her back, standing flush her back to his front. She shivers when he leans down to breathily say, “Everyone is watching, why don’t we give them a show?” 

This is not like her, at all. 

She has never been a fan of public displays of affection, even screaming at horny strangers in the past to get a room but she feels all that restraint leave her body at his challenge. Driving her body back into his jutting erection she slowly grinds in perfect rhythm to the song playing over the stereo. 

She feels seductive as the music curls around her and she lifts her arms to wrap around his neck, bringing him ever closer and pushing back harder delighted at the groan that escapes his lips. He is coiled tightly behind her but he doesn’t move a muscle letting her have complete control over their interaction and she has never felt more powerful. Continuing to sway she leans back when he tightens his grip around her waist, mewling as his nose rubs at her earlobe and letting out a soft gasp when he blows on the tender flesh. 

When she peels her heavy lids open, there are so many hungry and watchful eyes on them. 

Ae-ram looks scandalized and she can see the woman pointing at them but she can’t hear a word that she’s saying the blood in her ears is too loud, drowning out all other sounds. 

It must be the liquor in her veins because seeing all the voyeurs only makes her bolder, before she can second guess herself she spins around much to Vincenzo’s chagrin but she silences him with a finger on his lip. 

“Follow me.” 

He arches a thin eyebrow but eagerly obeys her command when she tugs him in the direction of the bathroom. 

She hears several gasps behind her as she tugs open the door stepping inside, dragging him right behind her the silence is deafening when he closes the door behind them, turning the lock with a metallic snap. 

Her breath comes out in hurried puffs. 

What the fuck am I doing? She asks herself, wondering if this is what people call an out of body experience. 

“We don’t have to do anything. Their imaginations will do the rest.” 

He’s giving her an out. 

Gripping his hands tighter, she pulls him over to the toilet which is thankfully clean using her feet to slam the seat down before pushing down him to sit. He looks up at her with inquisitive eyes, waiting for her next move but lets himself be manhandled the second time this night. 

“Thank you for everything tonight,” she covers his mouth with her hands as she climbs into his lap, whatever words he had on his tongue evaporate when their groins meet. 

“I know I don’t say this enough, but I love you.”  

She has only ever said it once before and he’d been sleeping, they both knew he wasn’t truly asleep but he let her pretend and she appreciated it but there was no way she couldn’t say it now, tonight. He had been her prince charming when she had expected nothing. 

“Are you serious? You say it to me in her-” She pops open his pants button cutting off his stunned response and he stares at her, making her feel hot. 

“Talk later?” She begs and her request is backed by her hand disappearing through the slit in his pants and wrapping around his dick, the hot muscle twitching fiercely in her hold. 

He chokes out word that sounds like a jumbled “yes” and that’s all the consent she needs to stroke him harder, using his precum to glide her hand down from the tip to the base and then back up again, he lets out a punched out groan at her purposeful handling of his imported goods. 

Shifting back marginally, she gives herself more room tugging his pants down further to get a better look at the pretty pink cock, it’s standing at attention and weeping for her and rubs harder twisting in a corkscrew motion on the mushroom head much to his pleasure, he thrusts up into her hand and immediately she lets go. 

“Please,” he whines so prettily and she tsks at him, “Don’t move, you can only take what I give you. You said you were mine right?” 

She doesn’t know what has come over her but seeing all those women and men lusting over her boyfriend makes her want to remind them and him, just who he belongs to. 

She expects him to put up some sort of fight, instead he nods eagerly at her command stilling his hip and she can see the strain in his white knuckled grip on the toilet edge. 

“Good boy.” She praises and notes with stunned satisfaction the way his dick jumps at the praise too, interesting. 

She starts with a light pace, stroking with the barest amount of pressure before she starts to grip him tighter when he groans at the dryness of her hands she leans over to spit on his head, this makes him hiss and fight to stay still in her grip she rewards him with a kiss to his flushed red head. The wet sounds of her hands stroking his hot meat fills the small space of the bathroom and lifting one hand she grabs his tie using it to yank him into a hard kiss, he opens up for her immediately letting her tongue explore his mouth. 

She has never seen this mafia man so docile, it’s like seeing a lion behave like a house cat. 

With a hard suck at his bottom lip, she breaks their kiss leaving them to pant into each other’s mouth harshly. 

She didn’t know how far she actually planned on going but now nothing seems like enough, she needs more. 

Staring deep into his eyes, she stands up releasing her grip on him and he sighs watching her confused before she slides both hands under her dress and slowly pulls down her panties, they are tiny, white and lace, matching her bra and he looks mesmerized as they are pried down her legs. 

“Are you sure?” He’s still checking on her and she smiles at him, stepping out of the panties and cheekily putting them in his pocket, “Give them safe for me,” she doesn’t give him a chance to reply before sinking back down onto him, his dick is hard and thick but she’s so wet that he glides into her like they are two matching pieces of a puzzle.  An erotic puzzle. 

“Fuck!” He shouts when he bottoms out and his cock is completely encased in her tight walls, his voice echoes off the bathroom walls. 

She grabs his tie, making his eyes pop open and she watches amused as he sputters as she stuffs the expensive material into his mouth. 

“You’re being too loud.” She teases remembering all the times he had been the one admonishing her as she screamed beneath him. 

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” He echoes her words from spitting out the tie and she can’t deny it, so instead she rocks forward taking even more of him simultaneously shoving the wet tie back into his mouth listening to his barely muffled grunts. She rises up on the tips of her toes, her red bottoms giving her that extra bit of height, his hard tip popping free with a wet squelch before she slams back down onto him titling her head back and moaning to the ceiling. 

He’s being so good, not moving at all simply letting her fuck down on him and she can tell his control is slipping every time he grips her waist too tightly, painfully. 

She continues to ride him, chasing her own pleasure and whimpering when his blunt head slides across her engorged bead, rocking vigorously up and down as she feels the end drawing near. She tightens her hold on his shoulder, using him as leverage to ride him faster, his thighs tense under the weight of her body and her rapid pace. 

The wet smacks fill the air filthily and she feels dirty, absolutely nasty but instead of shame an intense wave of pride barrels over her. 

“You’re mine.” She whispers out loud to herself but he misinterprets the words and eagerly nods at the statement thinking she wants him to declare that he’s hers, “Yes I am yours, all yours,” and she loses her mind, pistoning herself rapidly on his lap before pleasure surges through her body, starting in her toes and curling up her thighs and she rocks her nipples into his chest through their layers of clothes, she muffles her cry in his throat roughly pulling at the skin there to silence her deafening screams. 

It’s only then that he breaks the rules, reaching up to grab her shoulders and yanking her down to meet his vicious upward thrust and waves and waves of thick streams fill her up until she feels it leaking at the sides. 

There is no sound besides their louds pants. 

Then two loud knocks make them both jump from their wrecked state, his softening length falling from her grip. 

“This is the only bathroom.” A voice calls out disgusted and with a gasp she stands up straightening her dress and running a hand through her hair before realizing that it’s still sticky, great. 

Vincenzo is a puddle on the toilet, legs spread apart and softened dick not yet tugged away, he looks like sin reincarnated and it takes everything not to initiate another round. 

“Come on lover boy,” she tugs him up pulling him up and zipping up his pants, then she moves him over to the sink washing her hands and making him do the same. Their eyes meet in the mirror and that’s when she sees much how debauched they truly look, when he turns to look at the hickey she sucked into his pale skin while trying to be quiet she finally feels the ability to be embarrassed returning. 

it’s huge and red, almost purple, covering the thick column of his throat and he winces when he rubs at it. 

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.” She apologizes but its for naught because he grins at her proudly, “You were just claiming what’s yours.” 

His words light another fire under her skin and it’s only the pounding on the door that stops her from jumping him again. 

When they finally pull the door open, none other than a blanched face Ae-ram is on the other side. The woman looks shocked to see them both standing in front of her and the gears begin to slowly turn and a bright blush rushes up her unnaturally high cheekbones while color evacuates the rest of her face. 

“Are you serious?!” 

She doesn’t stay to hear the rest of the woman’s snide remark, all eyes are on them as she walks over to the bar to grab her discarded purse and Vincenzo’s jacket, the bartender winks knowingly at them looking equal parts aroused and jealous and she chortles, winking back. 

He hands them two shots, “It’s on the house,” he looks them up and down languidly licking his lips and she slams back the bitter liquid before turning to Vincenzo, his lips are shiny and now wet under the bright lights. 

“Let’s get out of here.” She slams the shot glass on the counter, pulling him out the door. 

He hastily swallows his drink, letting her tug him out the door into the cool night air. 

“You didn’t let me answer you before, but me too.” 

She looks at him from the corner of her eye, the wind causing her to sober up and it takes a minute to understand what he’s talking about. She shifts awkwardly when she ultimately realizes nodding while looking away, their cab is three minutes away. 

“I love you too, Hong Cha- young.” 

As if she didn’t already know. It was too obvious after tonight.