#besides throw money at everything that goes by on my dash

[blackjackkent]

So. Probably not getting any writing done this week because I feel like someone removed my stomach. Feels ridiculous trying to be business as usual today.

I hope those of you who have followed me for writing still want it and that you will wait for me. Deeply insecure thing to say when so many other more important things are happening but whatever.

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

maybe Y/N Stark is a new avenger, Peter see her before in a college party where they had very great sex. When she is introduced to everone. Wanda reading her thoughts finds out what happened between them. and CAOS. I love you xx

Okay see I love this because it plays into my favorite headcannon that (y/n) Stark is just a big party girl. My favorite trope is just like mean x soft, love someone who is just soft for their baby and that is so my favorite way to potray (y/n) Stark, like she’s just kind of brat expect for with Peter. Anyway I’m saying a big fat yes, and here she is. Hope you like it babe! Love you xx

Guys I am still doing requests and promts so please feel free to send some in, or even just hit me up, would love to be your bestie 💖

Awkward

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

Summary: The first post hookup meetup is always a little awkward 

Prompts

Masterlist

//

(y/n)’s pov

New York city has to be the most magical place in the world, the lights are brighter, the buildings are taller, and the parties are way more awesome than the little boarding school dorm parties I’m used to. As a Stark it’s really just my social obligation to throw the best parties in the city though, and that’s a lot of pressure. I knew my New York debut would have to be awesome, so I rented out the 404 NYC and filled it to the brim with the best food and liquor money could buy, the most killer DJ I could find, and sent out an invitation to every socialite in the city. 

Then I invited Peter Parker, a boy I’ve only ever met in passing really, but he was important to my dad. Dad always used to tell me he thought we’d really get along, but we never really got the chance to know each other before dad passed away. Now that I’m in New York I want to try to be friends, he’s also the only avenger my age so if I want to carry on my dad’s legacy I think he’ll be a good teammate to have. From what I remember he was just a dorky, quiet kid, he’d hardly said two words to me the handful of times we had met. So you can only imagine my surprise when he walked in and the dorky little boy next door had become possibly the hottest boy in all of NYC. 

“Hey Peter,” I giggled as I waved to him, “I’m so glad you came.”

“Yeah, of course, I was a little surprised you invited me though…” he rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward smile.

“Oh yeah, I just figured a friend of daddy’s is a friend of mine,” I stopped one of the waiters walking by and passed Peter a drink, “Here, have this, it’s crazy good.”

He takes a little sip and nods, “Good. I’m glad you did, I was wondering if you were still gonna go to college out here after everything that happened.”

“Of course! I love New York,” I wink before taking a big swig of my own drink, “Plus I kind of wanted to give the whole Avengers thing a shot.”

“I heard, Fury said you’ve been talking about helping out.”

I nod, “Yeah, I don’t know if I really want to be a superhero per say, but it’s my dad’s legacy and I want to help out in some way.”

“Cool,” he blushed as he glanced down at his drink, “Sorry, parties aren’t really my thing still, I actually kind of just came to see how you were.”

“Aw,” I coo, “That’s so cute, I thought you would be, you seem more confident, you actually look me in the eyes now, mostly.”

He looked back up at me with a smile, “More confident sure, but I still don’t really go to parties.”

“Well you’re like an honorary Stark aren’t you?”

His whole face flushed red at that, “I don’t know about that.”

“Nah, you totally are, which means you’ve got to party like one,” I push the drink to his lips, “Chug that and we’ll get you another, then I’ll teach you how to dance,” I wink, downing my own drink to demonstrate.

He takes a deep breath and down the whole cup in one drink.

/

The first thing I notice when I wake up is how unusually warm it is, then it’s the arm around my waist. I roll over groggily and rub my eyes, giving myself just a few moments to take everything in. The first thing I spot is Peter, laying in bed besides me, naked. After checking him out for a second, what happened last night comes crashing back to my mind.  I feel my face start to burn, don’t get me wrong, he was great in bed, but I just know I totally corrupted him. Oops. 

It’s a little hard to feel bad when the sex was that good.

Peter’s eyes flutter open, looking over me sleepily before going wide eyed, “H-Hi,” he stutters.

“Hey,” I smile back, “You’re like a little space heater you know?”

“Uh, thanks,” he sits up very suddenly, looking a little frantic as he grabs his phone, “I-I’m sorry I really have to go, I h-have plans.”

I frown, watching him scramble back into his clothes, “No problem, I’m sure I’ll see you around?”

He nods, not meeting my eyes as he pulls his shirt on, “Y-Yeah, see you!” he’s out the door fast enough to give me whiplash.

Did I just get smashed and dashed by Peter Parker?

/

I feel awkward about what happened with Peter, I mean I had a good time but the more I think about it it just seemed like something was off that morning. I want to apologize or something, but I don’t have his number or anything. I was hoping he’d be at the Avengers tower while I’m in today, but no such luck. I feel really bad, I had a lot of fun with him, I really did want to be friends. He just really doesn’t seem like the type to hit it and quit it so I really feel like I did something wrong…

“Oh hey kid,” Bucky breaks my train of thought and draws my attention away from the papers I was looking over, “What are you up to?” “Looking over some of my dad's old suit plans,” I hum, “What about you?”

“After mission snack,” he smiles as he opens the fridge, “Peter and Wanda were right behind me.”

My eyes widen and I look right to the door, waiting for them to enter and debating what I should do. I guess just ask him to talk?

He meets my eyes as soon as he enters the room, his cheeks flush instantly and he clears his throat, “Oh, hey (y/n).”

“Hey,” I smile back.

Screw that fucking Spiderman suit, he should go to jail for looking like that.

“Hi (y/n)” Wanda smiles as she walks in behind him, “How are you?”

“Good, you?”

“Starving,” she rubs her stomach with a smile, “I need a snack,” she heads right for the kitchen while Peter just stands a few feet away from me. “How was your mission?” I ask.

“Good, nothing special really,” he crosses his arms over his chest, “How have you been?”

“Good.”

How do I bring this up? I mean normally if I hook up with someone I don’t care that much about talking to them after, but I really liked hanging out with Peter at the actual party too. He’s awesome in bed, let’s not pretend he isn’t, but he’s funny too, and wicked smart. Plus he’s a lot nicer than most guys, I don’t know, I just really got along with him. I really hope I didn’t ruin things between us.

“Well I’m just gonna grab a snack too,” Peter pushes his hand through his hair, a light pink color dusting his cheeks and nose, “I’m pretty tired…”

“I bet, you should get some rest,” I cross my legs and turn back to the notes, only to spot Wanda staring at us, “What?”

She smirks, “Nothing, nothing.”

I frown, “Okay, not nothing, what is it?” “You two are just having some interesting thoughts,” she snickers.

Both Peter and I flush red while Bucky cocks his head in confusion, “What are they thinking about?”

She gets ready to speak but I’m quick to interject, “Nothing.”

“The kids were just having a little fun,” she smirks, “Come on Bucky, I think they need a little alone time.”

He went wide eyed, “You two better not try anything in here.”

“Jesus Christ we won’t!” I snap, “You two are gross!”

“Oh I’m gross?” Wanda raises a brow, “I know exactly what’s going on in that little head of yours,” she glances towards Peter, “She’s into the suit Peter.”

“Hey!” I glare at her while he blushes, “Don’t kink shame me.”

“I’m gonna go throw up,” Bucky snatches up his food on his way out. “You better leave to,” I threaten Wanda, pointing my pen at her as threateningly as I can.

She starts laughing, “Yeah I’m getting out of here before you two start getting heated,” she winks to me as she saunters out of the room, “Wrap it up this time!”

“Hey!” I snap, my cheeks flushing once more, “I have an IUD,” I try to assure Peter, who seems to be malfunctioning, “Uh, you good?”

His mouth hangs open for a minute before he speaks, “I’m really sorry about them.”

I shrug, “It’s fine. I really did want to talk to you alone though, I’m really sorry about the party.”

He knits his brow, “Why are you sorry? I had fun at the party.”

“It seemed like you regretted it,” I bite the inside of my cheek nervously.

He purses his lips and shakes his head, “I don’t regret it. I shouldn’t have left like I did though, I promise I’m not normally like that.”

“Oh,” I don’t really know what to say, “So you really just had to go?”

He averts his eyes before shaking his head, “I kinda panicked?”

“Panicked?” I chuckle, some of my nerves starting to ease out, “Why?”

“I just haven’t really done that before…” he blushed.

My jaw falls open, “Oh my God Peter I am so sorry, I had no idea. I should have asked if I was your first th-”

“No, no! Not like that, I’ve slept with people before,” he shakes his head, “It’s just always been with long term girlfriends. I just didn’t really know what to do when we got up and I panicked.”

I can’t help the small laugh that escapes from my lips, “That’s really cute Peter, and I mean what you did was fine, I was just a little disappointed I guess. I mean I had a lot of fun just hanging out too so I was kind of hoping we could have kept hanging out, but if you just wanted a one night stand that’s fine too.”

“W-Well I wanted to keep hanging out too, I guess I should have just asked,” he laughs lightly at himself, “Sorry.”

“You can make it up to me by taking me on a date sometime,” I shrug, “You know, just if you still wanted to hang out sometime.”

He goes wide eyed before clearing his throat, “Oh, um, yeah, I should do that. Do you, uh, have plans tonight?”

I shake my head, “Nope.”

“Cool, uh, would you want to go to the movies then?”

I nod eagerly, “I would love to.”

“O-Okay!” he grins ear to ear, “I’m gonna go shower though, and change! I’ll be back in ten?”

“I’ll be right here,” I smile back, “Can’t wait.”

“Me either,” he begins walking away but spins suddenly loudly declaring, “Oh!” before he spins back around. He presses a quick peck to my lips and bites his lips, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I blush, my stomach filling with anxious butterflies, “I’ll be waiting.”

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 21: Kia, I Am Your Father

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[masterlist] [kia’s slambook]

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6 months have passed and having 2 kids both under the age of 4 is not as challenging as you expected to be. The main reason is because both of of your daughters are the easiest to handle. Mina barely cries unlike other babies, and she sleeps well through the night. But because she is still a baby, she needs a lot of watching and attention, way too much for Kia’s liking.

Kia likes being an older sister. She holds Mina’s feeding bottle when it’s time for eating. She knows when it’s time for Mina to nap. She watches over her little sister when you’re showering or cooking. She’s doing an excellent job as a big sister.

You and Kiyoomi thought Kia just loves Mina, the reason why she’s very doting towards her.  But Kia does all that to get approval and praise from you and Kiyoomi. Kia hates that she’s not getting as much attention as before. She hates that it’s always about Mina and just sometimes Kia.

“It’s because of you!” Kia screams all of a sudden while you are cooking at the kitchen and Kiyoomi is showering. You both trust Kia that much. You run to your daughters and see Mina on the foamed floor of the living room instead of her bassinet.

“Kia, what’s wrong?” You try to ask her calmly, picking Mina up from the ground. She doesn’t answer you, but storms off to the nursery. You follow her, Mina still in your arms. “Kia!”

“It’s because of Mina! You and papa don’t love me anymore!” She cries, grabbing a baby bottle from one of Mina’s drawers. Kia throws it to the ground, shocking you.

“Kia, don’t do that!” You scold her. She rummages through the drawers and throws Mina’s clothes and diapers out. You try to stop her but then she throws a teether at you, hitting you on your forehead. Worse, it bounced to Mina. The baby cries.

“Sakusa Kia!” Kiyoomi shouts from the doorway. He witnessed everything.

“I hate you! I hate you!” Kia continues to throw things at you and you turn to protect Mina.

Kiyoomi quickly goes to Kia and grabs her by her arm. He sits her down on her bed, her cries worsening. “Say sorry to your mama!” Kiyoomi demands, but Kia firmly shakes her head. “Do it. Now.”

“No! I hate her! I hate you, too!” Kia responds, throwing a pillow at him. His patience running thin, Kiyoomi slams his hand on the bedside table, a loud smacking sound echoing through the whole room. Kia’s cries are exchanged with shivering.

“Is it good to throw things at other people?” Kiyoomi scolds her, his hand hitting the wooden surface once again. “Answer me!” Kia doesn’t answer him so he smacks the table one more time, her shaking getting more intense.

“Kiyoomi, that’s enough. I think she understands now,” you tell him, a hand on his arm.

“No! She clearly doesn’t understand! She won’t throw things like this if she understands! She’s being an unreasonable brat right now!” Kiyoomi shouts. You knead the muscle on his arm, trying to calm him down.

“Omi, Kia’s trembling,” you whisper to him and he takes a look at Kia carefully. She is trembling. He wants to apologize for scaring her, but he won’t. Not after she threw that tantrum. “I’ll go talk to her. Take Mina and prepare the dinner.”

“Fine,” Kiyoomi complies, taking Mina from your arms. “She doesn’t leave this room until she cleans up the mess she made.” He doesn’t spare another glance at Kia as he leaves the room with Mina. Hearing the door shut close, Kia starts wailing. You wrap your arms around her, taking her into your arms.

“Kia, baby, tell me what’s wrong.” She still doesn’t answer. “Is it because you think mama and papa don’t love you anymore because of the new baby?” She nods, her sobs not quietening down. “I’m sorry if we made you feel that way. Mama and papa love you so much. Next time, if you’re upset, you tell us instead of getting angry and throwing things.”

“I’m sorry, mama,” Kia apologizes, wrapping her arms around your neck and burying her face on your shoulder.

“It’s okay baby. Just promise not to do that again.” You hear Kia mutter a quiet ‘yes’ so you kiss the side of her head. “Let’s go out and apologize to Mina and your papa, okay?”

“No! I hate Mina and Kyo! Kyo hates Kia, too,” Kia refuses.

Despite Kia’s protests, you carry her out to the kitchen. You sit her down at her highchair but she doesn’t look at her father who is in front of her. Kiyoomi glares at her, so you sigh. Kia quickly eats her food then leaves the table to go back to her room. You give a look of disappointment to Kiyoomi but he just shrugs.

“She’s really mad at you,” you start. “She called you Kyo.” His heart breaks into a million pieces from what you said.

“It’ll pass. She’ll be fine tomorrow.” He tries to convince himself. He cleans the table, memories flashing back in his mind. You notice the sudden change mood on your face so you get an idea.

“Omi, what do you think about letting Atsumu take care of Mina for a few hours next Sunday? I mean his wife is pregnant, right? They might need some practice,” you tell him, but he doesn’t seem like he’s listening. You continue to speak, “Then we can take Kia out for a little date just to spend more time with her. She thinks we don’t love her anymore.”

“I’ll talk to her after I wash the dishes. Go take Mina to sleep,” Kiyoomi responds. You stand up from your seat and wrap you arms around him from behind.

“Stop overthinking, baby.” You tip toe to kiss him on the cheek then leave to bring Mina to bed.

After doing the dishes, Kiyoomi goes to Kia’s room. He leans on the doorway frame, watching Kia arrange the bottles and diapers she threw a while ago. He knocks on the door, startling Kia. She turns and sees him going to her so she dashes to her bed.

Kiyoomi sighs before sitting on the edge of her bed. “Kia,” he calls her as she covers her face with her blanket. “Do you wanna sleep beside mama and papa?”

No response.

“Do you wanna watch Transformers with me?”

Again, no response.

“Do you want to go to Mu-chan’s?” Kia lowers her blanket, then examines at Kiyoomi’s face. She shakes her head then goes back under the blanket. “Okay, then. Good night.”

Kiyoomi heads back to your room and you’re already asleep. He checks on Mina’s crib then sees that she’s still awake. She reaches her arms out to him and he chuckles. “You’re like your sister, too, huh?” He picks Mina up from the crib and he goes to the living room with her.

He sits down on the couch, and sits Mina on his lap, his legs bent up to support the baby’s back. “You know, your sister is mad at me,” Kiyoomi tells Mina. “She thinks we don’t love her because you’re around. But it’s not your fault, sweetie. It’s also not your sister’s fault. I mean, I do think I don’t spend much time with her.”

Mina lets out a random cry, and he acts as if he understands her. Kiyoomi sighs, “I did. I talked to Kia, but she doesn’t want to talk to. What should I do?”

“Kya!” Mina giggles, hearing her sister’s name, but Kiyoomi registers it as another babble.

“Mina, I didn’t understand that. I’m sorry.” Kiyoomi admits. Mina babbles but with more force this time. “Are you angry at me also?” She stops squirming and looks at Kiyoomi nonchalantly. “You are?”

They continue to ‘talk’ until Kiyoomi falls asleep on the couch with Mina on his chest. The sun rises, waking Mina up. Instead of crying, she just stays there on his chest. A door opens so she looks at that direction.

“Mina...” Kia says as she sees her little sister awake. She stares at her in a daze, then remembers hitting Mina the day before. “Tell mama and Kyo I went out, okay? I will come back.”

Kia runs to her room then grabs a backpack. She puts her little panda bank in it then goes to the front door. She puts her shoes on and manages to unlock the door with her little hands. She slowly closes the door, afraid that she’ll wake her father up.

Kia walks down the cemented slope, looking around from time to time. She hums a song as she excitedly walks to her destination. She sees a flight of stairs, so she takes a deep breath in before taking one step down.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Four.”

“Six.”

“Five.”

“Ten.”

That cycle repeats until she’s finally done with the steps. She continues to walk for a few more minutes until she finally sees her destined location. The flower field.

Kia squeals then runs around the field first before she goes to the flower stall. “Good morning, grandma!” She greets the owner.

“Hello, Kia. Where’s your father?” The owner asks her, looking around for any signs of her father. “Did you go here on your own?”

“He’s sleeping,” Kia answers, worrying the owner. “Can I buy flowers for my baby sister? I hurt her yesterday so I will buy flowers for her so she’ll forgive me.”

“Ah, yes, of course!” The owner smiles at her. “Do you want to help me make it?”

“Yes!” Kia cheers then runs to her behind the counter of the stall.

The owner picks her phone up and calls a certain someone. “Hey. Your friend’s child is here. I think she went here on her own with her parents knowing. Can you come pick her up? Okay, thank you.”

The two of them continue to make the bouquet, the lady doing it slower than usual to kill some time. She’s afraid that if they finish, Kia will dash out and return home on her own.

“Kia...” A familiar voice calls her, exciting her. She jumps off the chair she’s standing on and runs to the owner of the voice.

“Shin-chan!” The said man picks her up, her giving him a kiss on the cheek in the process.

“Let me get you home,” Kita tells her. She nods at his statement.

“Mina’s flowers and I have to pay!” She takes out the little bank in her bag then gives it to the store owner. “I got that money from helping mama at home!”

“If you give this to me then you will not have money anymore,” the owner says to her and Kia saddens a bit.

“It’s okay! Mina will be happy!” She smiles at the shopkeeper. The lady pretends to take out something from her bank then gives it back to her as ‘change.’ “Thank you, grandma! I’ll see you soon!”

Kia and Kita goes to his parked truck and when he opens the door, a white small dog is sitting on the front seat, wagging its tail excitedly. Kia’s eyes widen in happiness.

“A puppy!” Kia squeals, Kita settling her on the seat. He puts the seatbelt on her before he puts on his. “What’s his name?”

“Rice,” Kita responds. The dog barks, so Kia lets out a small ‘woof.’ The said dog licks her face, making her giggle. “Rice, sit. Stop moving.”

He finally starts the engine of his car and heads to your house with Kia’s directions. “Why did you leave home?”

“I bought gift for my little sister!” She shows off the flower.

“Next time, don’t leave the house without your parents. What if you got lost? You’ll never see your papa again,” Kita scolds her, eyes on the road.

“It’s okay. Kyo hates me,” Kia responds, a hint of sadness in her voice. Kita places a hand on her head, petting her.

“Don’t say that. Your papa loves you so much.”

They arrive in front of your house, so Kita carries Kia to the front door. He knocks on the door, hoping they’re at the right house.

Inside the house, Mina hears the knocks. She hits Kiyoomi on the face, waking him up. “Kya! Kya!”

“Huh?” Kiyoomi is still in a daze. He hears the knocks, so he places Mina back in the bassinet and he dashes out to the front door. Who could be knocking at his door so early in the morning? He checks the monitor and sees Kita and Kia?

Kiyoomi opens the door quickly, confused as hell. “Good morning, Sakusa-san.” Kita bows to him so he bows as well. Kia squirms off Kita and enters the house quickly to look for Mina. “Kia went out to the flower fields on her own today.”

“She did?” Kiyoomi’s sleepiness has vanished upon his words.

“Yes. And I think she might be a little upset with you,” Kita tells him.

“Ah, yes, she is. Can I know what she told you?” Sakusa awkwardly asks.

“She said you don’t love her,” Kita answers nonchalantly.

“Is that so?” Sakusa frowns. “Thank you so much for bringing her home. Thank you.” He bows multiple of times as Kita heads to his car.

Kiyoomi returns inside and sees Kia presenting the flowers to Mina. “I’m sorry for hurting you yesterday, Mina. Neechan promises not to do it again.” She plants a kiss on her forehead and the baby giggles.

“Kia,” Kiyoomi calls out and she nervously faces him. He squats down to be on the same level as her. His heart is still aching from the reason why Kia is acting like this towards him. He can’t get mad at her. “Don’t leave the house without me or your mama, okay?” She nods. “Give me a kiss.” Kia ignores him and heads to her room instead.

You get out of your room, just woken up. You see the flowers on the floor and ask Kiyoomi where it’s from. He explains to you and you get worried. “We should change the door knob.”

Kia comes out of her room with papers and a box of crayon. She sets it on the coffee table of the living room and starts scribling.

You and Kiyoomi are on the couch, just watching her. Mina is wide awake, watching her sister draw. Kia shows her a drawing. “Look, Mina! It’s me, you, and mama!”

“How about me?” Kiyoomi pouts.

“Here.” Kia points at a dot in another piece of paper. You chuckle, Kia’s response is just way too funny.

“But Kia, I am your father. I should be on the same paper,” he whines.

“No, Kyo isn’t my papa.” Kia continues to draw. Kiyoomi huffs then an idea pops in his mind. He stands up from the couch and heads to his room. A minute later, he comes back out with his training duffel bag.

“You are so petty,” you tell him and he just shrugs. Kia is his daughter and he knows how to push her button. If she’s still not crying after him this, then, maybe he isn’t her father after all.

You take out your phone and start recording. “I’m going to practice now,” Kiyoomi says loudly. Kia continues to draw, but the grip on the crayon is much tighter.

“Have fun,” you tell him, going along with him. He goes to you and kisses you all over your face. Kia eyes you, her head hung low. She mentally counts the kisses Kiyoomi is giving you.

‘That’s a lot of tomorrow.’ Kia thinks, her scribbles getting uneasy. She sees Kiyoomi go to Mina who is settled beside her. He kisses Mina a lot of times as well. ‘That’s already more than ten tomorrows!’

Kia waits for Kiyoomi to kiss her, but he just passes by her. You record the pain in Kia’s eyes as she looks up to his figure in disbelief. Kia storms off the room and goes to yours. She comes back with a face mask on hand.

“Have fun,” Kia deadpans at Kiyoomi, handing him the face mask. He looks defeated. You stiffle in your laughter, not wanting to rub salt on deep open wound.

“I will,” Kiyoomi scoffs. He won’t lose to this battle of pride against his daughter. He turns his heels to head to the front door, his footsteps loud and painfully slow in Kia’s ears.

Kiyoomi finally turns the knob of the door and Kia starts wailing. She runs to the entryway and wraps her arms around his knee.

“Don’t leave,” Kia cries. Kiyoomi picks her up, a successful smile plastered on his face. “Papa, please don’t leave!”

“Papa?” Kiyoomi cocks an eyebrow at her. “I thought I’m not your papa.”

“You’re my papa. You’re Kia’s papa,” Kia says in between sobs. She tightly hugs him, her face buried in her shoulder, leaving a wet patch on his shirt.

“Then do you love me?” Kiyoomi asks her.

“Yes. I love papa so much!” Kia claims, then cups his cheeks. She plants a kiss on his forehead, then he smiles at her.

“I love you so much more.” He nuzzles his nose against hers, her cries turning into giggles.

Kiyoomi finally sighs in relief, his worries leaving his body. He doesn’t want history to repeat itself. He wants Kia to feel loved by him because he promised her. He doesn’t want Kia to slip off his fingers even if he’s holding her tightly already. He doesn’t care if his daughters are full of snot and germs, he wants to hold them as much as he can because he knows that one day he won’t be able to do that.

He silently chuckles. He can’t believe he used to hate children. He just can’t see that self of his anymore. He thinks that if you never returned and he didn’t meet Kia, his life would be a void. He can’t think of anything that he’ll be doing now if he doesn’t have you and his daughters.

Sakusa Kiyoomi finally admits it. He loves children, especially his children.

As you watch the two of them, you feel something curl in your stomach. You quickly get off the couch and run to your bathroom. You throw up in the toilet, holding your hair away from your face. The familiar feeling hitting you like a truck.

“No fucking way,” you curse under your breath. You get up from the floor and wash your face, gargling before you get out with a tight feeling on your chest.

You see the three or them cuddling on the couch, as the Transformer movie plays. Kia under Kiyoomi’s arm while Mina is lying on his chest. You smile at the sight, but then you remember your problem.

“Omi,” you call him but he doesn’t respond, since his eyes are glued to the screen as well. “Sakusa Kiyoomi.” His head literally whips to your direction as he hears his full name come out of your mouth.

“Yes, angel?” He tries to act calm, wondering why you’re sounding so serious. You keep quiet.

You remember leaving him because he didn’t want kids. You remember how he hated Kia so much but then got wrapped around her little finger. You don’t feel great joy seeing him and your two daughters cuddling so comfortably on the couch. You’re thankful that they’re getting along and Kiyoomi came along halfway and embraced parenthood.

But you don’t know how he’ll react to your announcement seeing how happy and contented he is now with his two daughters at the moment. You’re not sure if he’ll want to have an addition this early.

“Baby, are you okay?” Kiyoomi snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Ah, yes, sorry.” You settle between his legs, your head on his stomach, just below Mina’s small feet.

“What were you going to tell me?” Kiyoomi reminds you.

“I forgot,” you giggle, hiding your nervousness.

“Are you sure?” Kiyoomi asks and you nod. He doesn’t push the topic. He places a on your head, massaging your scalp. “I suddenly thought of something.”

“What is it?” You sit up, and you see a look of discomfort on his face.

“Atsumu’s wife is pregnant with sons, right? Which means that his children will be on the same age group as our Mina. What if his sons fall in love with our Mina and then she will be stuck in a love triangle with them! Then she will eventually choose one of them and she will become a Miya! Which means I will be haunted by Atsumu forever!”

You giggle at his rambles, wondering where it came from. “I don’t think you should be worrying about Mina. I think it’s our other child who’ll be in a love triangle with Atsumu’s sons.”

“Huh?” Kiyoomi sits up, his full attention on you. “What are you trying to say? Don’t beat around the bush.”

“I think I’m pregnant again.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Facts:

Kiyoomi has finally gotten the son he asked for and he’s with Atsumu’s sons future love interest.

They’re named Sakusa Kin and Sakusa Mira

ha ha ha jokes on you all, this is not the last chapter

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Taglist: @elianetsantana​​ aoi-turtle ptv-hades  aquzairus a-applepi  justoneofthefangirlsarianna-r13 morenabambinii chaelysian @loser-keiji​​ mxngy ne-kuroon1fangirlsblog d-efend missalicebaskervillemarvelousbakugou @agaashesmilktea​ bonkyandloki kimi09 ntimacy @mkazuyuh  ushi-please minty-mangos-world @dearest-kiyoomi​ yeehawslap  onlyshinji obsessedwhxre adrasteiaxandromedaa abuliawrites song-of-storms162 tnu-ree keichainn

[honeytea8]

✨✨La Squadra Boyfriend Headcanons✨✨

[Alexa, play Boyfriend by Big Time Rush]

Guys, I spend an ungodly amount of time thinking about La Squadra, so here are some bf headcanons for the sexiest group of assassins in Naples. No one asked but I am bringing it straight to your dash anyway! (under the cut for length lmao)

I’m going to start with Prosciutto, who has recently fallen on my radar pretty heavy! 

He’s a good and decent boyfriend, if not a busy one. Not that he doesn’t care about the relationship, but most of his energy was going to Passione things before you waltzed in and so he’ll struggle a bit between his work responsibilities and maintaining his relationship with you, but only in the beginning. 

If you are also a part of Passione, it’s a hell of a lot easier to manage. 

I see Prosciutto as the gift-giving type: lingerie, sweets, perfume, designers, etc. His salary isn’t the best, but he manages it as well as he can just to accommodate you! 

I just can’t get the idea out of my head that Pro was raised by a strict mama, that’s why he can be a bit of a stickler sometimes. He’ll catch you still lounging in bed at nine am, and be like “Why are you still in bed? Get dressed, we’re going out.” Dude!

I’m sorry to say, but Prosciutto is absolutely the ‘lecturing’ type. (He lectured someone in nearly every scene in the anime, Formaggio once and Pesci numerously and Bucci too) 

He will lecture you when you make mistakes, especially because as his s/o, he has high expectations for you and believes you’re capable of so much more. It’s never, ever out of hate. He loves you, and that’s why he chides you a bit lol. 

This does not negate the fact that he doesn't mind when you lean on him for support. He likes when you count on him, because he always comes through especially for you!

Depending on whether you’re in the mafia or not, I totally see him sparring with you, or working out with you in an effort to make you tough. Prosciutto wants you to be able to defend yourself, just in case. If you complain, he’ll tell you, “Better safe than sorry, tesoro”.

Prosciutto will respect you, period.

A good listener, goddamn! He’s up there with Risotto when it comes to who listens to their s/o more! If you have an issue, he’ll hear you out and offer advice if you want it. If you give him advice, he’ll take it into serious consideration. He’s honestly a good partner, can’t stress that enough.

Finally, sex with Pro is an entire event. Romantic dinner, candles lit, wine, the whole nine yards before he gives you nine inches of something else :) (I’m kidding!! Lmao, kinda). 

But as I said, Prosciutto is quite deliberate, and a bit of a perfectionist. He knows what to do and how to do it, you can trust him.

Ghiaccio is next only because he’s my favorite. 

The ice gremlin is probably the most interesting (and hilarious) boyfriend out of the bunch (I say this with only a tidbit of bias). He isn’t funny himself, but funny shit just happens to him. 

Because of this, he will use you as a soundboard when everyone else refuses to listen to him. He’s got a lot to say, so be prepared for his TEDtalks. LMAO!

It will take some perception on your part to notice when he actually expects a response from you, and other times he’s just ranting to get his point out. 

He will correct your grammar when you text, but barely notices when he makes a similar mistake (his brain moves in mph). Please use the proper names like Venezia, Italia, Roma and Napoli when talking to this man; save yourself from the headache.

When it comes to dates, please have mercy on him, he’s a textbook over-thinker! You’ll just have to plan something simple at home for you both to enjoy. 

He isn’t incapable of planning dates, but he’ll want everything to be so absolutely perfect for his s/o and will throw a fit when it ultimately isn’t. 

Contrary to popular belief, I think that Ghiaccio is a pretty attentive partner. He’s super intelligent and I think a part of it stems from his innate ability to read people (I’m referencing the part in the anime where he deduced what Giorno and Mista had come to look for, while going off very little information). 

The more time he spends with you, the better he gets at it. 

His form of affection will be shown through the amount of time you both spend together. When it comes to sex or anything related to that, be gentle and slow as Ghiaccio will likely be a flustered mess. 

As he becomes more comfortable and confident, he will be bolder and just ask out right if you’ll suck him off tonight or not. The man appreciates directness, so don’t bother being coy. “You want me to give you head? Cool, lay down a towel or something.” is what he’ll probably say.

Very practical 👌🏾👌🏾

Melone, good lord, he’s kind of perfect. 

A bit of a doting boyfriend here and there—very much concerned about your health. Expect him to ask if you’ve eaten, or taken your multivitamin. How are your bowel movements?  LMAO

It can become a bit much, but he really genuinely cares. He’s not asking to be intrusive or nasty! If he was, you’d know. 🤣

But I seriously consider Melone to be the one (at least among La Squadra) who is way, way invested in his relationships. He will know every little detail about you; will ask you lots of questions and expects you to ask him just as many. 

This may be annoying to some, but this dude will definitely bring up your horoscope in an argument. He’ll be like “I honestly can’t fathom why you’re being this way, though it’s to be expected from a libra.” 

Peg this bitch so he can shut up.  

Melone is also touchy as hell, but not in a clingy way. He loves touching, and just to tag onto the headcanon about his partial blindness, I want to say that he’s so touchy because that’s how he ‘sees’ you best.

Just know that half the time, he isn’t touching you to be lecherous, even if he genuinely does like the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Melone will even encourage you to touch him back. 

Rub his thigh or back and he’ll be simping.

He is obsessed with your legs, and will paint your toes if you let him. 

LOVES PDA! Melone will also tongue-kiss you in public if you let him!

Notice how I keep saying ‘if you let him’. Give him an inch and he’ll press you for a mile, so if there are boundaries you would like to establish, please do, cuz he sure as hell won’t, just saying!

When it comes to sex, Melone is a dick and coochie sensei. Oral is his favorite thing to do, probably enjoys giving more than receiving to be honest. I’d say he’s pretty much mastered sex for what it is. 

That being said, if he’s ever talking out of his neck, just invite him to put his mouth to better use. He’ll even thank you for your gracious request.

Formaggio is next 💀 

According to my JoJo compatriots from discord, he’s like the Optimus Prime of fuckboi’s so let’s ride that wave for a bit! LMAO

I hope it doesn’t come as a surprise that Formaggio is pretty shameless. He will send you a dick pic on Sunday morning before church and have the audacity to say “Just wanted to bless you real quick”. 

@autumn-kouhai mentioned him giving his s/o sickly sweet pet names and I just have to agree. 

Expect to be hit upside the head with: baby-boo, sugar plum, honey bunches, sweetums. I can imagine them becoming really ridiculous too like “the last piece of red velvet cake” or “cheddar bae biscuits from Red Lobster”

His catch phrase is “Got nudes?”

Send them, and he won’t be afraid to reply with something equally sexy. 

Be warned though, he will stockpile whatever you send him and then be careless with his phone. If you don’t mind Illuso’s snoopy ass seeing your nudes then by all means, have at it. Otherwise, send them through snapchat, so they disappear later. 

As far as La Squadra boyfriends go, he’s the most fun! Y’all don’t even go anywhere because man’s is broke. BUT, Formaggio knows how to have a good time without any need to spend money (my kind of dude tbh) you guys just crank up the tunes, dance, and get lit until the neighbors complain. 

Formi is also the CEO of jokes/memes, and will have you in absolute tears almost always! I literally tell my friends that funny guys are so dangerous, don’t sleep on them! They will make you laugh until your panties drop, it’s magic, I swear. Formaggio has that same energy. 

No matter how bad of a day his s/o is having, rest assured, he will draw the biggest laugh out of you.

Besides his fuckboi tendencies, his most redeeming quality is the fact that he’s super cool and fun to hang with. You’ll literally have a good time, always, because his energy is right! Very good vibes around this man, I swear! It’ll be exactly like dating your best friend, because essentially, he will be your bestie.

Formi has many moments of tenderness that aren’t sexually charged too—moments where the jokes stop and he’ll just rub your back or feet, this is usually when you aren’t feeling well and need some quiet. 

However, Formaggio won’t let you mope all day, he’ll pull out the big guns and call you his “sweetie baby” and when you try to resist he’ll say “What, I’m just tryna show you some love.”

He’s a good dude lmao I’d date a guy like him irl 😭

Pesci stans wya??! Let’s get into this baby boy. 

Pesci is boyfriend material, idgaf what anyone says. 

He is pretty much the least problematic to be with among all of La Squadra, even more so than Risotto (don’t argue with me). 

Pesci is hyper aware of your likes and dislikes and will literally go out of his way to make sure that you’re well and okay. 

Arguments are basically nonexistent and if they occur it ain’t coming from his side. 

I also think that Pesci has a lot of empathy, so when you’re going through something, he’s right there in the thick of it with you. If you’ve seen that meme that goes ‘when my gf is on her period it’s UterUS’ lmao that’s Pesci’s energy 100%. 

Sometimes, he’s more of a lover and not a fight, that is perfectly okay!

However, if someone tries up his s/o, say farewell to Mr. Niceguy. He will defend your honor to his dying breath. And with you in his corner, trust me, he’s not going down. 

A romantic at heart, Pesci will plan little date trips like picnics in the park or boat trips to Capri, actually, I’d like to point out that he excels in the art of date planning. If you’re the adventurous type, he’ll plan outings where you both will be more active, like biking through the city or renting a mop-ed and going sight-seeing. 

Because Pesci has a sensitive stomach, he’s very much considerate of what you both put in your bodies. If you have dietary restrictions or allergies, this guy knows all about it and will cater to you perfectly. 

A true gentleman through and through, he will never force himself on you, ever. In fact, he really doesn’t like engaging in anything sexual when you’re drunk or high, sorry if you’re into that! 

Pesci is the kind of guy who keeps up with your favorite shows.

If ya’ll have similar taste in media or literature, he will immerse himself in it so that he can relate to you all the more.

If there’s anyone who will entertain anime-related discourse, no matter how nonsensical, it’s Pesci. And he isn’t just putting up with it, he’s actively engaging in the conversation so you are always heard and validated. 

He’s an A+ boyfriend, that’s all I gotta say! Haters can stay mad :)

Goddamn Illuso... idk man.

I really feel like you have to have thick/tough skin to handle this guy, for various reasons. 

The first being that Illuso can be a bit mean at first. He’ll push your buttons on purpose just to see what’ll make you tick. Will tease the living heck out of you, always, kind of a bully lmao but not to the extreme, it’s just his brand of humor—and the thing is, he won’t be mad when you dish it right back, so it’s cool. 

Secondly, Illuso has big dick energy!! 

I mean rightfully so, because he is indeed packing! But my word, he ain’t humble about it at all! 

He is not above making jokes about ‘splitting you in half’. In fact all of his jokes have hidden, dirty undertones! 

His affection is shown through speech mostly. Illuso will drop subtle innuendos and provocations, half to see you flustered and half because he wants you to know how much he wants you. 

Illuso isn’t incredibly vocal about his feelings outside of ‘I’m tryna hit that thang’ but you won’t doubt that he loves you because Illuso doesn’t waste his own time. 

If he’s spending his time with you, you can rest assured that it’s because he wants to. 

Illuso is a voyeur and you’ll just have to understand/accept that and move on. 

He loves watching you and will even creep over to your place through the mirror world just to hang or watch you do chores. Loves to surprise you and give you jump scares lmao it’ll make you a tad paranoid but it’s also fun. 

Illuso is prone to random bouts of sweetness; it’s very sporadic, very touch-and-go. 

One day, you’ll wake up to chocolates on your dresser or new shoes, lingerie, or makeup if you wear it. I imagine that if you’re low on funds, he will even help you buy your groceries that week. 

It’ll surprise the hell out of you, but that’s just how Illuso is. He enjoys keeping you on your toes! 

He’s prideful and smug as hell, so he will definitely expect a thank you, because even if he does it out of the kindness in his heart, he also wants to hear that you appreciate him

Same goes for the bedroom scene. Illuso loves making you vocal, it’s his favorite thing in the world, so he’ll make a game out of doing the things that get the biggest reaction out of you. Like I said, it's that big dick energy at work here, smh.

Sorbet and Gelato in a polyamorous relationship with you? Let’s get it! 

We don’t get anything substantial about these two except that Sorbet follows the money, so these are all personal headcanons for how I see and write them. 

Here’s the juice: when it comes to you as their s/o, these two are possessive as hell. You are theirs and that’s that on that! 😭 Don’t ask questions, just go with it.

Sorbet is the chill one of the duo. He can be a bit smug at times, but he’s mostly a laid back dude who doesn’t get bothered by much.

When it comes to you, Sorbet likes to spend quality time with you more than anything, and will ask you to cook for him at your place so he ain’t gotta spend money. Oh? Did I not mention that I kinda think of him as a cheapskate? Lmao cuz I do.

Sorbet will come by your place just to steal your coupons from the mail then head out; you’re not using ‘em so why should he let them go to waste?

Gelato is the complete opposite; personality wise, I headcanon him as a mix between Melone and Formaggio lmao

But it’s not as crazy as it sounds, he’s cute and outspoken like Melone, while maintaining a free-spirit like Formaggio. One quality that I like is that he’s quite devoted to you and Sorbet. If anyone crosses either of you, goodluck to them!

I like to think Gelato’s also just really boujee and high maintenance. He loves to pamper and be pampered. You and him tag-team Sorbet’s wallet and go on spa dates together at his expense (not that he ever really stood a chance)

While Sorbet is cool with just being in the same room as you, Gelato loves hugging/cuddling with you and Sorbet—will definitely fight for the middle spot between the two of you on the couch during movie nights.

He baby, so let him have it lol

In the bedroom, I would salute anyone with the guts to take the two of them on. They both lay down that work, period. 

Sorbet gets his kicks from teasing and edging you (his sadistic side comes out a bit), while Gelato loves when you give him extra TLC. To put it short, they know how to take care of you, so there are no issues there. 

Last but not least, Mr. Risotto Nero himself.

Man, idc on the lowest of keys, he seems a little bit like a grandpa to me

The type to sit at home and do crosswords, has a bird feeder in his yard and plays old Italian hits while washing the dishes. It’s very domestic 💀 (I find it cute, whatever!)

As a boyfriend, I can’t imagine him suddenly being spontaneous or outgoing unless you drag him out of his home/comfort zone.

Be patient with Mr. Nero, and he can come to surprise you

After a while, it won’t be just you dragging him out and about; one day he’ll ask you to come over and you’ll be greeted with a nice, traditional, homemade meal

Pay attention and you will notice him watching your face to see if you like his cooking 🥺

After seeing his fight with Doppio, I must admit that Risotto is very, very observant, almost scarily so.

I can totally picture him pointing out random things about his s/o that even they don’t know

One night, Risotto may come up to you and say “I talked to your neighbor about the dog, they’ll keep it inside now.” And you’re just staring like 😳 how did he know the barking was keeping you up at night????

He’s sweet, and will take good care of you as a boyfriend should.

Very good listener, won’t talk as much but will hang on to your every word, I promise. He could even recite it to you verbatim.

He’s a big dude, that ain’t news, so expect to be swallowed up in hugs and sometimes even picked up (as a tall girl myself, I simp!!!)

Gives A1 piggyback rides, lol

ALSO RISOTTO IS HUMBLE ASF!

Big dick energy, but on low volume 👏🏾 after all, he doesn’t need to do much talking, because a night with him is more than enough!

Listen babe, you better stretch, do some squats, and prep in whatever way you can before Mr. Nero gives you that work. 🤐

Lowkey a freak, but it’s well hidden behind his ‘quiet giant’ exterior

So, who are y'all dating? Personally, I’m going for Formaggio and Pesci hehe

[plounce]

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

[kitkat1003]

Tower Tales

6: I’ll be home for Christmas....you can count on me...

AO3 link

@asilcorner

(also recorded myself singing the song in this chapter, listen here!)

Their first Christmas in the tower is on the horizon, and while they try to remain optimistic about it all, it’s hard to be happy when you’re living in a prison.

Yakko, as usual, is shoving down his own sadness with ease.  Wakko watches, with sharp eyes behind the veneer of dull suspicion, as Yakko cheerfully pulls out a Christmas tree from nowhere, has them all put up the ornaments one by one, instead of just throwing stuff on there.  To elongate the process, perhaps, to force them to focus on the action rather than the lack of an escape.

Wakko sees, sometimes, Yakko’s eyes dart to the water tower door.  He hears, at night, Yakko, going to the door and trying to wrench it open.  Some nights Yakko spends hours, sometimes minutes, and sometimes Wakko hears Yakko stop, sit, and cry into his knees.  He’s very quiet, but so is the tower, at night, and they have terribly good hearing for toons.

Yakko’s always smiling in the morning, with breakfast.  Wakko worries.

The first few months after they’d figured out them being locked up wasn’t some prank, they’d thrown anything they could at the door to try and get out.  After they’d ran out of ideas and materials, they’d quit, because it was more depressing to try, hope, be constantly disappointed than just to forget.

Or try to forget.  Wakko guesses that Yakko can’t.

And Dot isn’t exactly thrilled, either.  Wakko thinks she misses the outside more than she lets on.  He vaguely remembers her, on days they felt like wreaking havoc would be boring, taking them on a picnic.  The stock market hadn’t crashed yet, and then it did, so they didn’t have a lot of money.  They did have the ability to steal, but even then they didn’t do it much because it wasn’t fun or right to steal from people who were already going bankrupt.

They’re mischievous, not cruel.  Wakko wonders if the people who locked them in here knew that difference.

“What are we gonna do for Christmas?” he asks one afternoon, during lunch.  “Do you think Santa can get in here with the door locked?”

The question has Dot suck in a sharp breath.  She looks away, upset, and Yakko gives him a look, the one he gives whenever Wakko says something tactless.

Wakko doesn’t have a lot of tact.  He thinks he might’ve eaten it, whatever it is.

“Santa can get in anywhere,” Yakko replies, hands on his hips, confident.  “And we’ve been pretty good, despite the circumstances, so I think we’ll be getting plenty of presents from him.

That’s something that Wakko worries about.  Presents.  What is he even supposed to give his sibs that they can’t just create with toon powers?  Making cards seems lazy, even if he would put all his effort into them.

Yakko, he’s sure, already has an idea.  Because Yakko is smart.  Dot probably has them figured out too.

“I thought you were off Santa’s nice list,” Dot says with a grin.  “You know, for being a hypocrite?”

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me this year,” Yakko shoots back, hand on his chest, before standing up to put his plate in the sink.  Wakko will lick them clean with his tongue, and Dot will put them in the dishwasher, and one of them will put them away when they’re done depending on when it finishes.  They’re efficient, kind of.

“Should we decorate?” he asks, because so far they only have the tree, and the tower looks a little barren.

Dot’s eyes sparkle at the idea, and Wakko knows he is going to regret asking.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the end of the next day, the whole tower is put together, tinsel and twinkling lights that flicker hanging from the walls and ceiling.  Dot puts mistletoe over every doorway they’ve made, and every time they happen to be beneath it, she makes sure they either give her a kiss on the cheek or she gives them one.

Yakko thinks it’s cute, if silly, and Wakko just shrugs it off.

They make a fireplace, with a chimney that they aren’t sure goes all the way through.  Wakko tried climbing it, but halfway up he found himself shot back down, rolling across the floor covered in soot.

He couldn’t even try and argue to not take a bath that day.  Yakko had dunked him in and hadn’t let him out until the black stopped coming off on Yakko’s gloves.

His hopes for Santa visiting are dashed, and he can see Dot deflate too.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko mutter, and Wakko wonders.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot is very, very sure that this Christmas is going to be great.  She knows it is, despite the fact that they don’t even know if Santa can come see them, despite the fact that they won’t be able to go anywhere to see snow, despite how the world around her wants to tell her it won’t be.

She will spite that because she refuses to let anyone take this season from her.  She and Yakko and Wakko start a food fight in the kitchen when making cookies, and cookie batter splatters all over the wall.  Wakko ducks behind the kitchen island, with her, and holds out his hand.

“Truce?” He’s wearing an army hat, comically large on his head, with the straps hanging down past his shoulders.

If she wasn’t astronomically cute herself, Wakko might give her a run for her money.

“Let’s give our brother a wet new coat,” she agrees, and Yakko becomes the color of cookie batter in seconds.

“Betrayal!  By my own siblings no less!  Is nothing sacred?!” Yakko cries, leaning heavily against the stove with the back of his hand placed dramatically against his forehead.  Dot and Wakko giggle, coming around to face him.

“I don’t know, I think this is a good look for you,” Dot gives him a once over and hides a laugh behind her hand.  Wakko reaches out a finger and swipes a bit of the batter off of Yakko, sticking it in his mouth to taste.

“Mmmm,” he grins, and Yakko gets a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You know, you’re right Dot!  I ought to share my new looks with you, don’t you think?” he reaches out and sweeps them into a goopy hug before either of them can escape, and all three of them share the wealth of the batter that was supposed to go in the oven.

Dot takes a bath, then Yakko does, and Wakko licks himself and the kitchen clean.  He’d offered to lick them clean, but they politely declined.

“Slobber just isn’t a good look on me,” she’d told him, and Wakko had shrugged and eaten the demolished mixing bowl.

After that, they actually make cookies, because as tasty as the batter was to Wakko, they might want some warm, chocolatey goodness.

They make milk-free ones, too, even though Yakko says they don’t have to, because they want him to have a good time too.

Besides, the cookies taste fine without milk.  Who needs lactose?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Dot is sitting at her vanity, and she looks in the mirror and is ever aware of the background of cold metal.  The decorations look gorgeous, she put them up, she did everything she could to make the Tower become the season she loves.  

(Well, she technically loves the spring the most, with its gorgeous flowers and sunny days for picnics, but still.  Who doesn’t love winter?  It has Christmas!  And, now, it has Yakko’s birthday!)

But, even with all the decorations and fun, even with the mistletoe and the letters to Santa she can’t send, she feels...

Miserable.

She wants to go outside.  She wants to play in the snow.  She wants to harass street carolers by messing with the lyrics of their songs.  She wants to be out there, with people, in the world, instead of sequestered away.

She sighs, remembering a tune from their previous Christmas.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

Where the love light gleams...

She trails off and sighs again, resting her arms on the vanity, and then her head on her arms.

She doesn’t notice the figure peeking from the third floor, frowning down at her in concern.  Doesn’t notice the lightbulb appear over his head, before he ducks back upstairs.

She just sits there, thinking of the last time she saw a single snowflake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko locks up the third floor, a week and a half before Christmas.

When they ask, he tells them it’s a surprise.  Because it will be.  He finally knows what his gift for them, for Christmas, will be, and he can’t let them ruin it, because he really wants to see the pure surprise on their faces when they witness it.

He spends the days up till Christmas Eve working on it, finishing it Christmas Eve morning after breakfast and before lunch.  He’ll have to double check it before showing it to them, but that’s fine.  It’ll be about ten minutes security and then he can show them the magic he has in store.

Dot has swapped out her typical character modeled dress for a long sleeved one, with white fuzz trim on the hem and where the sleeves end.  Yakko has a pair of deer antlers, and keeps calling himself Rudolph, whoever that is.  Yakko says it’s going to be a hit a few years from now.

Wakko just puts on a Santa hat on top of his baseball cap and calls it a day.  Dot calls him lazy, and he shrugs, cause that’s a fair assessment.

Christmas Eve is as fun as it is weird, because they don’t have anything anywhere to do to celebrate, but they cut out little paper snowflakes and angels to hang up and then watch and see how much eggnog Wakko can chug at once.

The answer is around 6 gallons, give or take, because Yakko capped him off there, worried.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dot snickers, and Wakko tilts his head to the side with a hiccup.

“Isn’t a male chicken a cock?” 

Yakko laughs.

“Goodnight everybody!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They meant to stay up, but they’re kids, so they fall asleep eventually.  Wakko, kicking and squirming in bed, because even asleep he can’t stay still, wakes to the sound of frantic whispers.

“Please, just-just for tonight,” Yakko’s voice is quiet and pleading, and when Wakko blinks away the sleep from his eyes he turns into see Yakko, standing in front of Santa, hand gripping Santa’s coat.

And Wakko doesn’t have the time to process the fact that Santa is here, and real, because Yakko keeps talking.

“Please-just take them out, I’ll stay inside.  We-just for the night, just let them see the sky again, some snow, it’s been months, please,” Wakko can’t see Santa’s face, but he does see the shake of his head.  

Yakko’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Just one ride?  They’ll be good-I-,” Yakko pauses. “Okay, maybe they won’t be, you know them, but I’ll make sure they are, okay?  They-they don’t deserve to be locked in here.  It’s Christmas, so just for tonight-please.”

There’s something so young about Yakko’s voice, then.  Yakko doesn’t sound like a kid, sometimes, and Wakko doesn’t always either, but for him it’s for laughs and for Yakko it’s because he’s tired.

Santa says something, puts a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, and Yakko deflates.  Wakko doesn’t even notice that there are new presents under the tree yet, because he’s too busy trying to be quiet enough to hear.

“Just go,” Yakko’s voice is hard, and quiet, and cold, and sad.  Santa pulls another present from his bag and sets it beneath the tree, and disappears up the chimney.

Wakko watches Yakko tremble in place, for a good two minutes.  He counts the seconds in his head, because it feels like they go so slow.  Yakko finally stops, takes in a deep breath, and sighs.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko repeat, and he pretends to snore as Yakko walks back to bed, and buries his face in the pillow.

It takes a long time for him to get back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko wakes up on Christmas to the smell of peppermint hot cocoa at the crack of dawn-at the very least, it feels like the crack of dawn, because it’s earlier than he’s woken up in a while, but the elation of Christmas!!!! has him up in an instant.

There’s a large stack of presents beneath the tree, their names written in pretty cursive of the same handwriting.  Dot is all cheer, and he watches her skip towards the kitchen.  He shuffles over himself.  Yakko sets two cups of hot cocoa on the table, and swirls the top with a large helping of whipped cream, before sprinkling some peppermint on top.

“Merry Christmas, sibs,” he smiles down at them, and it almost makes Wakko forget about the night before.  “My gift to you is your menu of choice.  The whole day, a la carte menu.  Whatever you guys want, I’ll make.  So, what’s for breakfast?”

Wakko’s eyes are blown wide. Yakko has no idea the can of worms he’s opened with that open ended gift.  Or, maybe he does, because he puts on a chef’s coat and hat, and sets up the stove, and a grill, and the oven.

“Bring it on, little brother.  But, uh, let me make Dot’s first?  Something tells me hers will be a biiiiit quicker to make.” Wakko bites his tongue at that request, and Dot prattles off a normal order, because she’s boring.

By the time Yakko is done with Wakko’s order, he’s out of baloney in his slacks.

“I’ll put some more in there later.” He shrugs it off, and Wakko finishes off plate thirty seven with a grin. 

After that, they open up the presents under the tree.  Yakko gets some notebooks, a set of fancy pens, and a very expensive looking leather belt.  He also gets some books, and a perfect replica of a Shakespearian outfit.

He seems happy, but his smile is strained.  Wakko thinks he knows why.  Yakko is getting better at hiding it, though, because he almost didn’t notice Yakko was sad at all.  There’s still a trace, though.

Wakko wonders if he’ll start forgetting to look for that.

Dot gets the latest model of hair straightener and curler, and a wide breadth of makeup products, as well as a poetry book that she regards with half suspicion and half curiosity.  She gets a notebook and pen, too, one with a feather plume sticking out the end.  She uses it to brush underneath her chin, giggling.

Wakko gets some chew toys, some that he doesn’t see himself devouring just yet, and a necklace with a chew on too.  He puts it on and nibbles on it as he opens up the others.  He gets an engineering book, called “Building Without the Math,” and it sounds right up his alley.  He also gets a tool kit, which he places in his gag bag for safe keeping. 

The other items are mostly random toys they hadn’t known existed because they haven’t been outside.  Wakko uses the propeller of a toy plane as a fan, and then spits in it to see the drool droplets hover.

“Eugh,” Dot growls out, looking away, before she sighs and reaches into her dress pocket.  “This leads to my gift.” She hands both Yakko and Wakko a set of flash cards on a ring.

“Coupons?” Yakko flips through them, and then snickers.

“You two can do things that...,” Dot struggles for the world.  “Make me uncomfortable.  Cause you’re boys.” She rolls her eyes. “But you like to do them ‘cause they make you happy, not because they make me annoyed, so these are your passes for that.  Valid for a year.”

There are ones like “Can lick me” and “Allowed to not bathe for 2 weeks” that Wakko thinks are specifically targeted at him but hey, why not?  Baths are dumb, and he licks to show affection!  He sticks the cards in his cap.

Yakko rips one out, hands it to her.

“Thanks, Dottie,” he stresses her least favorite nickname, and she bares her teeth in a very strained smile, snatching the coupon from his hand.  But Yakko laughs, and soon enough, they all are.

“I’m also going to put away the decorations, no extra charge,” she waves a hand.  

“Sounds good to me,” Wakko hops up, fidgeting with his long sleeves.  “I...have to prepare my gift for you.  Can you guys wait on the second floor?”

Yakko and Dot share a look, and then nod.

Wakko vanishes up to the third floor, heart in his throat.

He hopes this works.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He makes them put blindfolds on, pulling them up the stairs.  Yakko holds Dot’s hand in one and Wakko’s in the other, helping Dot up as Wakko drags him along.

“What’s with the secrecy, Wakko?” He asks, and Wakko bounces in nervous excitement, tail curled around his leg.

“It’s a surprise,” he insists, and sets them up perfectly, on the mark he planned out.  He’d checked, double checked, triple checked.  If this doesn’t work he is going to lose it.

He turns off the lights, and pushes his contraption to the back of the room.

“Wakko, I would like to see sometime today,” Dot calls, and Wakko fidgets.

“Almost done!” The ice is in, okay, now just push the button.

There’s a series of clanks, and then a loud, grinding sound.  Dot and Yakko shiver, and Wakko is glad he used scarves for blindfolds.

There’s a loud FWUMP, and Wakko bounces on his toes.  His feet make indents in the ground.

“Okay, you can look now!”

Dot and Yakko pull down their blindfolds, and Dot gasps.

They’re surrounded by snow.

There’s a model of a crescent moon up by the ceiling, that acts like a lamp, and glow in the dark stars that glimmer pasted up on the ceiling, with constellations they find familiar.  From the machine in the back, snowflakes are shot out, drifting slowly to the ground.

“I, uh, I made snow,” Wakko shrugs, a little self conscious.  “Since we can’t go outside, I thought...,” What is there to say?

Dot takes one step into the snow, like she can’t believe it, and squeals when her feet crunches into it, jumping around.

Yakko is still dumbstruck, until Dot comes around and shoves snow down his pants.  He jumps up comically high with a shriek, ears brushing the ceiling, and when he falls into the snow it makes a perfect imprint of him.

“Oh, that’s it!” he picks up some snow and throws it at her.  Dot throws some back.  Wakko runs into the fray, nailing Dot in the face, and she takes her revenge with deadly precision, before sprinting over to him and tackling him into the ground.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she shouts so loud that Wakko’s ears ring.

“Merry Christmas?” he tries, and she laughs.

“I knew you were my favorite brother!”

“Hey, I’m offended!” Yakko sprints over, but he’s laughing too, and he drops on top of them, wrapping his arms around them and rolling over in the snow, so they’re on top of him.

He nuzzles Wakko’s nose with his own.

“Nice job, little brother.  Think you got us beat with this gift.” Wakko blushes, looking away.

“Wanna make a snowman?” he responds, because you’re welcome seems too formal.  

“Heck yeah!” Dot jumps up and runs over to a large pile of snow.

“Watch your fucking language!” Yakko barks without heat.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Wakko giggles, and Yakko sits up.

“C’mon, let’s not let her have all the fun,” Yakko picks him up and sets him off to the side, and Wakko is off like a shot the moment his feet touch the ground.

He thinks about the night before, of Yakko’s words.

Who needs the guy, anyway?

Beneath the fake moonlight, where the snow still sparkles like Wakko remembers, with Dot giggling up a storm as they make the largest snowman they can, with Yakko looking lighter than he has since they got stuck in here, Wakko can’t help but agree.

Who needs Santa anyway?

He can hear the tune from before, in his head, and hums it as they work, smile widening when Dot and Yakko join in.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams!

[rocketink]

LITTLE WHITE LIES

You don’t need Mingyu as a new roommate. Not when it’s impossible to bite your tongue around him. Not when you are arguing with him and suddenly complimenting him. Or, in a soulmate world, you can’t lie to your soulmate, but you didn’t know that.

pairing: mingyu x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, crack, a dash of angst maybe?? + soulmate! au + roomate! au

wc: 2.8+k

warning: I think that none uwu

notes: find minghao’s soulmate au! here. Also I think this turned out differently than how I wanted but I needed to post it haha.

Living the college life along with your best friend is a teenage dream come true. You've spent half of your life planning on where you would live, how would your apartment be, what would both of you study (and many more things that are actually impossible to plan in advance). Everything was fine at first: living out of town, in a big city where you could find anything you wanted, partying, meeting new people, studying something different and -the most important part- living with your friend. Eventually, it all became too much and you both began to feel the pressure of not living under the same roof with your parents, overall when it came to paying for the apartment.

"We need to do something," Your friend told you one day.

"I know," You sighed "We'll figure something out."

"What about a roommate?"

You thought it through for a second. Your apartment had a spare room you both used as a storage room, it even had a bed on it and it wasn't that small, so there would be no problem with three people living in an apartment that is actually for three people. Still...

"No,"

"What? Y/n, why?" Your friend seemed stressed and you almost felt bad, "it would be much better if somebody lived with us. If we split the rent into three we won't have to be so stressed about the money every month."

"I would rather get a part-time job. Look, I want to live with you and just you. Another person will make things worse and I don't want that."

"Do you realize that we would still be the same, just with another person around, right?"

"As if that was just a little change!"

Your friend groaned and so did you. You knew you were being irrational but living with someone is complicated, and you didn't know if you were willing to live with another stressed-out student. Personalities can clash. The mood could get worse.

"Look, let me find someone nice. I pinky-promise you that if you have a meaningful reason to hate them, we'll kick them out and find each of us part-time jobs and we'll manage. Just let me try," your friend extended her pinky and you entwined it with yours, your thumbs touching.

Find a meaningful reason to hate them? Tsk, that isn't hard at all, you are sure you'll find something in no time. Your friend can't find the perfect roommate because the perfect roommate doesn't exist.

Turns out the best roommate does exist. Kim Mingyu is the name. You accept him because he is friends with Wonwoo and you happen to owe the older boy a favor. Still, Mingyu is just as Wonwoo described him to be: clean, organized, hates disorder, can cook very delicious food and loves to have some company. He forgot to mention how incredibly handsome he is and how you share the same hobbies and preferences. 

You get nervous around him all the time because you hate to admit your new roommate is the closest to your ideal type you’ve ever met, and even if you are in the same room all you answer are monosyllables. One day it all gets even weirder. You wanted to watch something on the television but he already was watching some netflix show.

“Mingyu I really want to see this new series, can I?” You are sure he would gently give you the remote control, but he doesn’t.

“But I’m watching my show.” He looks taken aback at himself and you frown.

“But your show is on Netflix you can watch it anytime. Mine is live, there's no way I can watch it anytime later.”

“This is the first time in the week I’m watching television. I want to have it to myself.” This time he frowns and he checks himself in the mirror beside the sofa. “What am I doing?” You hear him whispering.

“Mingyu you are straight-up being selfish. Can’t you just watch it tomorrow?” You stop thinking for a second, did you just call him selfish? Without you actually wanting to do that?

“Selfish? You talk to me for the first time to call me selfish?”

“Yes, and I’d do it again.” Why can’t you speak nicely?

“Well, you’re so boring. This is the first time we talked, I barely even knew how your face was before today, you don’t want to get to know your new roommate don’t you?” Oh no, he didn’t. He slaps himself and you almost want to laugh. What a stupid, random guy.

“You shouldn’t even be here! Me and my friend were perfectly fine by ourselves, you being here is a mistake. I don’t care how hot you are, I don’t like you.” You seem unable to filter your words around him, so you turn around and leave. You hear him doing the same thing. In the end, nobody watched television that night.

You text your friend and roommate right after throwing yourself to your bed.

To: roommie

I fought with Mingyu

From: roomie

Really? What happened?

To: roomie

He’s just brutally honest.

And just like that began a push-and-pull with Mingyu you are not very proud of. You fight about almost everything: he nags you for not doing the dishes when you don’t have to and you complain that he keeps leaving the television on playing sumb shows. You even got to fight about your hobbies which are the only thing you have in common.

“I’m so done with you two.” Your roommate tells you. “You guys are the softest around me, why can’t you filter your words with each other?” No one ever answers them.

Christmas is coming and for the first time you are not excited. Your friend leaves to see their family and you stay because your parents are spending holidays somewhere else and you’ll celebrate right after. But the reason why it gets so stressing is because Mingyu is not leaving either.

One day, he steps out of his room looking extremely handsome. He wears a black jumper with a white shirt underneath, jeans and a horrible brown hat.

“How do I look? Be honest.”

“You look really fine, but for the love of god change that hat, it looks like my uncle’s” boring was the word you actually wanted to say. Just boring.

“I- I wasn’t expecting you to answer my question.” You try to play it cool, as if it was a joke so you roll your eyes.

“Our dear roommate left an hour ago.”

“Oh, I always ask them for honest advice about my fashion.”

“Mingyu, your fashion sense is amazing. You always look hot” Once again, you surprise yourself being honest rather than teasing him. Fast, make a comment about how ugly his hair is, “you have nice hair, it will look even better if you keep it swept back.”

“Thank you Y/n, this means a lot coming from someone as attractive as you.” You feel yourself blushing and he immediately turns around and slams the door to his room.

Did I just flirt with Kim Mingyu without being conscious of it? Why is my mouth behaving as if it had life on its own.

Mingyu leaves twenty minutes later, still too ashamed to look at you. He just mumbles something that goes like “date” and you get it. When he comes back, he is not wearing his typical smile and you know something is off.

“How did the date go?”

“Awful.” He looks surprised once again at his own words, but he shakes his head. He looks tired. “I don’t think they were the one for me.”

Come on Y/n -you panick- say something, a little white lie ‘that’s probably because you’re boring’ will do.

“That’s probably because they’re boring.” Oh god, you feel like strangling yourself.

“I think I am the boring one.”

“How can Kim Mingyu be boring?” You asks willingly -this time-

“You tell me, you hate me.”

“I may hate you, but I know for sure that you are not boring. We share hobbies you know? Are you calling both of us boring?”

For the first time, he laughs softly at you and you melt.

Oh no. Feelings. No. Protect yourself.

“I like your smile.” Damn it Y/n.

“Really?” His smile widens and you think you’ve never seen a prettier human being. “I like your smile too, even if I barely see it.” And just like all the times he talks to you, he looks honest. You smile too.

“I should go to bed.” You say, breaking the moment. He nods.

“I should, too. Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight Mingyu. Oh, and don’t rush yourself to find a partner, your soulmate will come when you least expect it. Just enjoy yourself.” And this is the first time you willingly say something nice to Mingyu, sharing the piece of advice you always tell you yourself when you’re feeling down for not having a soulmate.

“I will, thank you Y/n.”

“So you’re telling me Mingyu is the most similar person to your ideal type, that you can’t filter your words around him and that’s why you bickered so much, that you called him hot twice and ever since he goes to you for advice?” Your roommate feels lost a week after coming back from holidays and watching all the furtive glances you’ve sent to Mingyu. You feel lost, too.

“Yes. We’ve been nice to each other ever since. He keeps on asking me for fashion and date advice and I can’t lie to him, I really can’t. I’ve tried everything. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to tell him he actually looks like an ugly fish? A lot. Wanna know what I end up telling him? That he looks like an adorable puppy.”

“Well, that’s embarrassing.”

“He calls himself a puppy ever since. I want to cry, that's so adorable I feel my heart melting. I hate feelings.” Your friend looks pretty amused at your antics but you are just distressed. “But the best part is that I have developed feelings in what? Three weeks? Just because I can’t contain my words when I’m around him and because he gives compliments back and flirts back and I’m full-time panicking?”

“Wait. He flirts back?”

“He says I’m a kitten because he is a puppy and we fight all the time. Everytime I call him hot he says it’s a big compliment coming from me. He always tells me I’m the best and that he’s glad we’re friends. One time he asked me to cuddle because he stole my blanket and then he stood up and left and so did I”

“Y/n, are you listening to yourself? He’s as embarrassing as you are, he definitely likes you back. Soulmate culture”

“No, he doesn’t like me back. Quit the soulmate thing, we’re obviously not” You sigh, feeling a little sad, “He just thinks it’s a joke and he jokes back and when it gets out of hand he just behaves like the emotionally constipated person he is and I smash my head against the door because I say embarrassing things for real, god knows why, and he just… Jokes.”

“Oh dear.” Your friend gives you a hug and you hug them back. You needed to vent. “But how do you know he’s not interested? He acts very suspicious around you, he won’t ever call me hot. He even may be having trouble to keep his words to himself, that does sound like a soulmate thing, doesn’t it?”

“He’s been going on little dates. Tonight he has another one, he’s just asked me about his outfit and I’ve just embarrassed myself again, that just leaves it pretty clear. He doesn’t like me back. We’ll never be soulmates.”

“Wait, did you just say tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.” Your friend frowns and they check their phone, “is everything okay?”

“It’s just that Wonwoo told me they were going to watch movies. He’s pissed because Mingyu has been a little sad lately and he cancelled his date to console him.”

“They what?”

“Y/n, I’m going ro be honest with you. Since I came you’ve been looking at each other and looking for excuses to be clingy. It's disgusting. Think about this: if you like him a lot, you behave differently around him, you can’t lie to him and you joke-flirt all the time. Maybe that has a special meaning?”

You look at them scared. Mingyu can’t be your soulmate. If he was something would have happened, something else. As you’ve said before, he should be finding it hard to lie to you too. Maybe you’ll need to ask him about it? Mingyu and you... Soulmates... Would it be such a crazy idea? Just when your friend’s about to leave your room to let you think, they receive a message. 

“Look at this,” It’s a message from Wonwoo, it reads: why is Mingyu coming all dressed up? “talk to him, okay?”

You wait for Mingyu to come. It’s late when he’s back and your roommate has already gone to sleep.

“Hi” he greets.

“Hi,” you greet back

C’mon Y/n, you can do this, just ask a simple question ‘did you have fun on your date?’

“Did you have fun with Wonwoo?” I hate myself.

Mingyu looks surprised but he laughs it off. 

“Did Wonwoo tell you?”

“No, he told our roommate,”

“And why did our roommate tell you about it?”

Okay, you have to lie just one more time. If this one works out, you just forget about Mingyu being your soulmate thing. Just try this: ‘Because they asked me about you”

“Because I asked them about you,” you have no remedy.

Mingyu raises his eyebrows. You are not in the teasing mood.

“Look, I just want to ask you something. If the answer is no you can just forget this has happened and we can move on. Do you find it hard to lie to me? Because I find it hard to lie to you. I just can’t. It was nice when we were fighting over factual things like who left the tv turned on, but it’s not anymore because I keep telling you things I feel deep inside and you just make jokes about it.”

“What type of things, Y/n?” His gaze is intense and you have to look away.

‘That you are the worst person I’ve ever met’ try it, just one more little lie.

“That you are the best person I’ve ever met. That you are incredibly hot and attractive and you can pull any outfit and you are so nice and easy to be with. That I appreciate our friendship because I think it’s sincere and I’m not always that honest with my friends and that makes it special, but sometimes I say things I don’t want to say because you don’t feel the same.”

“That you hate me?”

“That I love you, Mingyu”

Mingyu releases all the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“You know how hard it was for me to figure out why I was being an idiot with you? I love my Netflix shows and I don’t really want to give anyone the remote but I always end up doing it because it’s not that big of a deal, why couldn’t I do it with you? Why was I being so rude and careless?” He looks embarrassed but then he smiles, just the way you want him to smile, “and then everything changed between us and I didn't want to compliment you but it was so easy not lying to you. You looked just fine afterwards so I supposed you took it as a joke and continued. Just to let you know, y/n, I mean them.”

“So they weren’t jokes?”

“I can’t joke about this because with you I always say what’s on my mind. And in my head you’re the most precious person ever.” You feel like crying, finally a mutual feeling. This feeling can only be resumed in one word: soulmate “You weren’t joking either?”

“I wish I was, just how many times have I embarrassed myself in front of you?”

“As many as I did.” Mingyu runs to your side on the sofa and hugs you tightly, “do you know how many times I’ve wanted to do this?”

“As many as I did” you hug him back and rest your head on his chest. His heart is beating as fast as yours. “Does this mean you won’t go on dates anymore?”

“Why would I? I have a soulmate that I love.” You peck his lips and he gives you another kiss right after, “besides, they weren’t dates, they were friendly hangouts with Seungcheol and Joshua, and sometimes Wonwoo.”

“But why did I dress you up then?”

“A little white lie maybe? You just assumed they were dates and I never stopped you, I like going well-dressed everywhere though. Wonwoo still doesn’t get it.” You snort. “I haven’t gone on a date ever since I understood I liked you, at some point in Christmas.”

“We can stop with the little white lies then?”

“They don’t work out,” he smiles and goes for another kiss, “and I can finally tell you I love you anyways.”

[itsinmydunah]

Title: WWE Smackdown

Rated: G

Words: 1290

Fandom: twilight rennaisance fic babayyyyy

———————————-

Summary: Bree may be tiny, but she is mighty.

A warning those who may be effected: mentions of past child abuse.

This one was a request from JaneMalfoy on ao3. So you have them to thank for this one, haha. I’m hoping I’ll be able to churn out more Bree fics with the same gusto. This fic is, as usual, also posted on my ao3.

Please be sure to tell me what you think!

————————————————

The sound of shattering ceramic has Bree cringing. She braces for a blow while stuttering out a hasty apology.

There’s dead (ha) silence throughout the house. No one is even fake-breathing.

“Bree, sweetheart, no one is going to do that here.” Bree peeks from beneath the heavy curtain of her hair. Esme is looking at her with kind and knowing eyes. The woman reaches out a hand slowly and tucks Bree’s hair behind her ear. Her touch is so gentle that Bree doesn’t even startle. “You never have to worry about someone hitting you or harming you. I promise,” Esme vows with an assertive tone.

“I—I didn’t mean to break it, Esme.” Bree believes the matriarch when she says no one will hurt her. From what she’s seen of this family in her short time with them, they don’t cross Esme. And more important than that, they are kind to each other. Even when Emmett ribs or mess around with Jasper and Edward, there is a line. No one hurts each other here. It’s not like the home she was raised in or the foster families she bounced from. Despite being ‘monsters’, they’re gentle. Especially to her.

“Oh, I know, baby. Don’t worry over it. We all broke many things in our early days. No matter what, you can’t be worse than Emmett.” Esme grins widely, nose crinkling as she teases her rowdiest son. Bree cracks a smile that grows even bigger when she hears an exclaimed ”hey!” from the upper floor.

“Yeah, don’t worry Bree. Carlisle makes sure Esme can have everything she wants. That vase wasn’t even an antique. I’m pretty sure it was just from Pottery Barn.” Bree tries not to let the thought of Pottery Barn being just a dispensable brand to anyone. She grew up with plastic chairs in the kitchen and a fold up table and was lucky to have season-appropriate clothes.

The Cullens’ wealth still boggles her mind. She was immediately given a closet-full of clothes by Alice and toiletries from Rosalie and a laptop from Jasper. They didn’t think anything of spending money on her, even in the very beginning. As much as she enjoys those things, she likes being able to regularly shower the most. And the hugs from Esme. And the calm, receptive presence of Carlisle. And the way they’re all so kind.

“If you’re sure,” Bree says doubtfully. She begins to pull herself out of her instinctive cower.

“1000%,” Esme assures. “Anyway, you’re pretty strong now yourself,” the woman winks.

“Sure, she’s strong, but she’s so tiny. Like, tinier than Alice!” Emmett booms. His raucousness has drawn the rest of the family from their rooms.

“Emmett, you know I can kick your ass,” Alice says, eyebrows set in a challenge.

Emmett tuts and waggles his finger. “No, no, no. You can evade me. Probably for days. But you cannot kick my ass. Not even close to the same thing.”

“It’s an important distinction.” Edward shrugs with a crooked grin. “But, actually, Emmett, you're not the strongest in the house right now.”

Bree cocks her head. Emmett certainly looks like the strongest one. Jasper is pretty stocky, too, though. Edward was lithe and fast, but not really one for brute strength. Rosalie was certainly formidable, but Bree didn’t think it could be her, either. Esme and Carlisle were simply too gentle to be the strongest ones.

“Edward means you, Bree.” Jasper offers. Bree blinks. Her? Not a chance! She was barely over five feet! Jasper must sense her confusion because he goes on to explain, “the human blood still in your body from your recent turning makes you stronger than any of us right now. And because you spent your early life drinking human blood you also have that as an advantage.”

Riley hadn’t told her any of this. She was still very unaware of a lot of aspects of being a vampire.

“I mean, I know that’s how its supposed to be, but look at her, Jas!” Emmett gestures towards Bree with exuberant hands. Bree looks down at her slight figure and skinny arms and has to agree with his assessment.

Jasper scoffs and shakes his head. “Newborns half the size of me could take me down before I was trained against them.”

“You’re telling me I could take Emmett down?” Bree inquires disbelievingly. She certainly felt stronger as a vampire than a human, but the very idea of taking down Emmett’s hulking mass is unthinkable. He’s easily 6’5”.

“If you can get a proper grip around him, yeah.” Jasper is grinning now like he knows what’s coming next. Alice is practically vibrating beside him.

“Well I won’t believe it until I see it,” Emmett says stubbornly. “Try me, short stack.” He holds out his arms and gestures for Bree to attack him.

“Emmett Cullen, not in my house you don’t.” Esme isn’t even in the room, but somehow she knows what’s happening. Bree shakes her head in wonder. This family is very in-tune with each other. It makes her undead heart a bit warmer.

“Yes, Esme,” Emmett intones like a begrudging child, “ Outside then, short stack.”

Emmett is already dashing to a cleared area behind the house. Bree looks at the others. They’re all bemused but unsurprised by the turn of events. They don’t seem concerned at all by Emmett’s determination to fight her. She knows that Emmett won’t hurt her, so she shrugs and follows him outside.

He’s already poised to attack when she gets to him. She tenses for a moment before lunging at him. She perches on his back and pushes down with all her might, sending him windmilling forward. A helpless cackle slips from her lips at the sight. She is strong!

“Oh, you’re sneaky!” Emmett booms, turning on his heel to bulldoze towards her.

She isn’t scared of Emmett. His open face is nothing like that of her father before he hit her. Emmett is smiling sunnily and laughing as he dodges her and tries to grab her waist. Bree can’t help the giggle that escapes her when she slips from his grasp. He looks so bewildered as she continues to evade his attacks. There’s the sound of Rosalie’s laughter in the background, but Bree doesn’t let herself be distracted. She hadn’t fought with the other newborns when they attacked the Cullens. It was an odd rush to get to use all the power given to her.

When Emmett finally gets his hands around her hips, she throws herself towards the ground and flips her center of gravity, sending him careening into the rocky bank beneath them.

“OHHHHH!!!!!! Em, she got you!!” Rosalie is full-body laughing now, bent over in mirth. The sight of this tiny girl flinging her huge husband over her body is just hilarious. Alice is grinning widely as Jasper guffaws at Emmett’s grumbling as he climbs up the bank. Edward is smirking. Esme, who came out to witness her son be put in his place by their newest addition, is also laughing.

“I did tell you she’d be able to,” Jasper reminds his brother who is picking leaves off his now-torn shirt.

“Yeah, yeah.” Emmett waves him off, narrowing his eyes at Bree. She grins, putting her hands on her hips and tossing her hair behind her shoulder. The much larger vampire shakes his head and breaks out into a good-natured laugh. “It won’t last forever though, short stack!” He scoops her up in a hug, twirling her. Bree shrieks and giggles, smacking his back but also clinging onto his shoulders.

She never imagined what it would be like to have a brother, but now it seems she will have a few brothers for the rest of eternity.

[scythian-andromache]

is it really a road-trip if you don't stop at a 7-Eleven?

A ‘The Old Guard’ gen fic that is a companion piece to this fic, but can be read solo

Also available on [AO3]

Summary:  In the middle of a road-trip, the Old Guard Immortals make a stop at a 7-Eleven. A lot of bickering ensues, but that's what happens when you take road-trips with your family.

***

It’s been two hours since they got into the shootout, which brings their Days Without An Incident count (previously at four) back to zero.  

That was on them, a stupid mistake that’s put something of a damper on their road-trip (end goal: Grand Canyon, but who knows if they’ll actually make it there before something goes horribly wrong). Since then, they’ve been driving steadily westward. It’s nearly two in the morning, but Andy is (still) driving, and the rest of them are in various states of dozing—or as much as one can doze when Andy’s driving.

“Fuck, we’re getting low on gas.” Andy says this out loud like it’s a surprise, like there isn’t a gauge on the dash with the sole purpose of keeping the driver apprised of the gas levels.  

“This is the last exit for thirty miles,” Joe says absently, eyes closed and feet propped up. They’re also, by all rights, past the acceptable merge point.

In response, Andy swerves across two full traffic lanes and cuts off the only other driver on the road to pull off the exit ramp, not bothering to stop at the stop sign and careening across the road and into the 7-Eleven’s parking lot.

Booker lets out several extremely creative swears in a mix of French and English. “Jesus, Andy, there are traffic laws; please follow at least one of them,” he groans.

“My headlights are on,” says Andy, like that settles it, and Booker swears again.

“If not for us, then for you! You’re not invulnerable anymore!”

Andy rolls her eyes. “My driving has never gotten a single one of us killed.”

Booker makes a face that clearly indicates he’s skeptical of that answer, but whatever he’s working up to is interrupted by a new voice in the conversation.

“Nile could take over for a little bit,” suggests Nicky, blearily clearing sleep from his eyes.

“Nile doesn’t even have a license right now,” Booker shoots back, exasperated.

“Nile doesn’t even have a birth certificate right now,” grumbles Nile from where she’s squished between them. “The only thing I’m legally classified as is a problem.” Quỳnh laughs from where she’s laying—apparently not asleep—in the very back, among their duffle bags. No seatbelt, but far more room than Nicky, Nile, and Booker have, all crammed in together on the bench seat not really meant for three.

Nicky, meanwhile, ignores Nile’s comment, looking directly at Booker as he asks combatively, “And whose fault is that?”

“Oh, come on,” says Booker. “I haven’t had time to forge a new identity for her!”

Nicky says something under his breath in Italian and Booker flings open the car door and stalks toward the bright beacon of the convenience store.

“I’m getting snacks, Joe,” says Nicky, and follows. Joe gets out and opens the hatch to check their supply of baklava—not that the 7-Eleven off I-40 is the spot to replenish it—and Andy exchanges a few words with Quỳnh, while Nile sighs and starts pumping gas. After a few moments, Andy and Joe head inside too.

“You don’t want anything?” asks Nile, peering into the car to check on Quỳnh.

“Joe will buy more snacks than he needs in case Nicky wants them, and then I will steal them from them both,” says Quỳnh, a mischievous smile on her face, and Nile can’t help but laugh. They had a rough start, her and Quỳnh, but they get along pretty well now.

“Fair enough,” Nile says, as she returns the pump to its hook.

“Maybe a pair of earplugs,” Quỳnh muses, as an afterthought. “To drown out their relentless bickering. The only thing I miss about the ocean is the peace and quiet,” she deadpans, and Nile almost chokes on her gallows humor.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Nile says, and pulls the car around before heading inside herself.

They’re all still bickering when she gets inside—of course they are. Immortals, with more years between them than the populations of whole towns, and they’re still children. She heaves a long-suffering sigh—it’s self-care, okay?—and says, “We’re all gassed up and ready. Everyone got their snacks?”

“Not quite,” says Joe, and then tells Booker—in English, this time—to let him drive. Damn, they’re still on that?

Nile lets them be, looking around a little for some earplugs for Quỳnh, until she hears their voices raise, and Booker practically yells, “—and we got stuck behind Soviet borders for a MONTH.”

Shit. She glances over at the cashier, who looks entirely too interested in this particular conversation. For all their talk of laying low, they can be pretty bad at it, sometimes. Sighing again, she sashays over to the counter, throws on her most charming smile and says, in an effort to disrupt whatever train of thought is mentally calculating how they could possibly have been detained behind Soviet borders, “Hi! I was wondering if you had any earplugs?”

They do not have earplugs, and she tries to keep him distracted, but it backfires a little, because she’s forgotten she’s still wearing the same clothes from the shoot up—they all are—and the cashier (Andrew, his name-tag says) has noticed.

“Costume party,” she says, a lame excuse, but the best she’s got, and she’s about to talk about how their theater friend does really extravagant murder-mystery parties when the rest of them decide they’re done bickering, and drop all their shit on the counter.

Andy gives the cashier the iciest look Nile’s seen from her in at least three days, and the poor kid hops to, ringing in enough candy to send their bodies pre-diabetes until they reboot again.

Joe, Nicky, and Andy all head out, leaving her and Booker to finish up the transaction, and then Booker—that absolute dipshit—drops a hundred euro note on the counter instead of USD.

“Idiot,” Nile hisses in French, elbowing him and fishing money out of her out wallet. She pockets the euro note (serves him right) and grabs their bags.

“Keep the change,” she says to the cashier, and uses her free hand to pinch Booker’s arm hard (“Ow!”) and steer him out of the shop. They slide into the back seat of the waiting car (Andy, unfortunately, is still driving), and it skids off before the door is even fully closed.

“Y’all need to work on your subtlety,” says Nile, glancing back at the gas station, where the cashier is standing in the door, staring after them. “Or at least have your arguments in French. That kid was listening to everything.”

Andy waves a hand dismissively—unfortunately, it also happens to be the hand that was holding the wheel and the car swerves—and says, “We’ll send a text to Copley. He can wipe the footage. What’s one more convenience store after a bloodbath?”

“Yeah? You also gonna wipe that kid’s brain?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, and he’s a nobody,” says Booker.

“I was a nobody,” hisses Nile. “You can’t just…discount people like that. That kid could become the next Kozak or the next Copley, or someone just like them could see him as collateral damage when they try to find us.”

“You are right, Nile.” It’s Nicky who says it. “It is easy to let people blur together, to believe them inconsequential, but it’s a poor mentality to have. We will be more careful.”

“That’s all I ask,” says Nile, softly. The car lapses into silence for a few moments until Joe asks for his Twizzlers, and all of a sudden there’s bickering over who bought what snacks.

Quỳnh somehow ends up with a pair of Twinkies and the Flaming Hot Cheetos, and just gives Nile a little wink over the back of the seat when Nicky says, “Booker, did you steal some of my Twinkies?”

Booker makes an indignant noise in the back of his throat, flashes his bar of chocolate, and says, “You couldn’t pay me to eat that garbage!”

Nile laughs into her iced tea, and then looks up and accidentally makes eye contact with Andy in the rear-view mirror. She’s got an amused smile playing around her mouth, everything in her expression telegraphing her fondness, and also her exhaustion.

“Let me drive for a while,” Nile says, over the argument happening between Booker and Nicky (“Don’t call them garbage, a Twinkie is just a petite madelaine with a little cream in it.” / “How dare you even utter Twinkie and petite madelaine in the same breath!”)

“You don’t have a license,” says Andy, although it’s a weaker protest than it had been before they stopped at the gas station.  

“Oh, come on. Like that’s gonna make a difference. Like you’re really gonna show a license to the police if they pull you over for a traffic violation.”

“I—”

“You need sleep, Andy. Pull the fuck over.”

To the astonishment of the whole car, Andy does. Well, except for—

“Ha!” whoops Nicky gleefully, leaning around Nile to get a better look at Booker. “Pay up!”

“Nile stole my euros,” says Booker grumpily.

“No. Uh-uh. Don’t make this about me,” says Nile, as everyone shifts around to accommodate the change in drivers. “I know you have more. And besides, I spent $100 at the store.”

“You were the one that told him to keep the change, and besides, a hundred euros is ten dollars more than a hundred dollars.”

“It was $87 and I was just trying to get us the fuck out of there. And consider it a dumbass tax, for trying to give him euros in the first place,” says Nile, and the car erupts in cackles.

“Everyone good?” She checks the rear-view mirror as she pulls back onto the highway: Andy has climbed into the very back to stretch out (snuggle) with Quỳnh; Joe and Nicky are shifting around in the back seat; and Booker is sitting shotgun next to her.

“I’m not,” complains Nicky. “Booker still hasn’t paid me.”

Booker says something under his breath, but digs his wallet out of his pocket and fishes a fifty euro note out, passing it back to Nicky.

“Grazie,” he says, waving the note to Joe like it’s a trophy.

Booker huffs. “Prego, è stato un piacere, va’ all’inferno!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” says Nicky pleasantly. “I have a papal indulgence.”

That draws raucous laughter from both Joe and Quỳnh, and for all that he puts on the air of being grumpy, Nile sees Booker’s smirk from the corner of her eye.

They all settle down pretty quickly after that; it has been a long day, after all. They’re the only car on the road, and the miles disappear into the inky black night quickly as they fly down I-40. The next time Nile glances into her rear-view mirror, she sees that Andy and Quỳnh have tucked themselves into each other, and Joe is leaning into Nicky, arms half around him as they doze together.  

Only Booker, slouched in the seat next to her, remains awake. “You can go to sleep, Book,” she says, easy.

“Nah,” he says, “someone must stay awake with the driver.”

She doesn’t take his statement at face value, but she doesn’t challenge him on it either. “Well,” she says lightly, “then you’re the DJ. Find us something good.”

Booker leans forward and turns the radio on low. The opening strains of a Depeche Mode song drift from the speakers, and Booker hisses. “English bastards with a French name,” he says, but tellingly doesn’t change the channel. He must secretly like this song.

As the song fades out and the opening chords of another song thrum, Nile looks over to find that Booker, too, has drifted off, but Nile finds she doesn’t mind. She’s surrounded by her ridiculous family, finally taking a break, and she’s got this. She turns her attention back to the highway, focusing on the thrum of the engine and the soft strains of the music and the peacefulness of an empty road, as they move ever closer to their next adventure.

***

fin.

***

~Twizzlers are halal! ~grazie = thanks ~Prego, è stato un piacere, va’ all’inferno! = (roughly; I am not a native speaker) “yeah, you’re welcome, my pleasure, now go to hell” (PS: Italian has all kinds of fun, creative, extremely dirty swears. Soooo even though Booker technically says "go to hell", it's fairly mild. Nicky's still salty at Booker but not salty enough to take it seriously.) ~There really was a papal edict offering indulgences to those partaking in the crusades. Nicky 100% exploits this.

***   

[skypagex]

let me see you get yourself out of this situation

aka three unlikely allies ditch detention and go on an adventure

word count: 2320

trigger warnings: stds (aids mention), drugs, nsfw mention

Okay, so maybe the detention is fully deserved. Sky probably shouldn’t have hotboxed his bedroom and expected to get away with it. In fact, he was pretty lucky to get away with detention, although he suspects that’s related to his mother’s call to the school and probable sizeable donation. (He should never have texted her. He knows that’s a bad idea. Thanks for the soccer team uniforms or whatever, mom.)

But regardless of how much he deserves to be in detention, he can still think of about a billion things he’d rather do than come into an almost empty room to the sight of Jack fucking Kelly (or is it Fielding? To be honest, he remains wilfully oblivious to the Jack updates. Like if he ignores him he’ll cease to exist) sprawled across the back row of seats with a smirk on his lips that so obviously says that this is his domain and Sky is trespassing. As if he owns the whole fucking room.

(Knowing Jack, he probably thinks he does. Not that Sky has had much personal contact with the boy besides an odd rumour that he died. But the boy’s reputation seems to carry through the school like a biblical plague of locusts. And besides, Sky’s friendship with Juliet gives him equal parts way too much information about Jack’s personal habits and currently, post break up, far more information about how disgustingly horrible he is. Either way, he’s well aware that there’s a sizeable ego present. He’s almost jealous, to be honest. Sometimes Sky feels like if he had Jack’s ego he’d probably be a rock star already.)

Still, he’s hoping that maybe he can pass under the radar of the British boy long enough to make it through at least half of the detention, maybe more, considering that the teacher has already apparently left - probably done with the delinquents before having even begun to lecture them on their crimes - so if Jack so much as starts a conversation Sky’s pretty sure there’s nothing present to hold him back from absolutely verbally annihilating Sky, which will therefore mean there’s nothing present to hold Sky back from tears and public humiliation. It’s hard being a crybaby, you know?

Such hopes are almost immediately dashed when Jack turns and gives Sky the most ravenous look he’s ever seen another human come up with, like Jack is starving and Sky is a walking hamburger about to satiate him. Yum.

“Pagey,” well there’s a nickname Sky didn’t know he had, and to be honest it makes him feel slightly nauseous even knowing that Jack has whole separate nicknames for him that he doesn’t even know about. How the fuck does Jack know everyone at the fucking school anyway? “How’d you end up here? Cried so much you flooded your bedroom?”

(Which would be insulting enough even if it wasn’t a plausible suggestion and didn’t need the rude addition of Jack proceeding to laugh at his own joke.)

Fortunately Sky’s saved from the perils of having to answer the question by the slamming of the door, which indicates the arrival of a third addition to the detention squad: a blonde girl, he thinks he’s seen her in a shared class (Helena or something along those lines, definitely the same name as a My Chemical Romance song since he remembers thinking that at registration) and a disgusted look upon her face as she has the same realisation as Sky upon seeing Jack’s face: that they are well and truly fucked.

“God,” Helena (if that’s really her name, Sky hopes it is because he suspects from her demeanour that she’s not the type to take a misnaming incident lightly) “was detention itself not punishment enough? Are they truly going to make me  look at your ratty little face for an entire forty five minutes? I feel ill just thinking about it,” she placed a hand over her chest as if the sight of Jack was causing her physical pain. Relatable, to be honest.

“I know,” and in that moment Sky feels more grateful than ever because it’s clear from Jack’s tone of voice that his admirably short attention span has now passed Sky straight over in favour of a pretty worthy opponent. “You really should complain, love. Like, how is getting to look at me for free a fucking punishment? It’s like getting to go into the Tate Modern for nothing.”

“The Tate Modern is already free,” Sky says helpfully. He is ignored.

“Your confidence,” Helena blasts back, “is truly insane considering how absolutely disgusting your physical appearance is. Have you considered being committed to a mental asylum at any point?”

“I would,” Jack counters, “but how could I? When the population of Luxor would just pine for me. Nothing would be interesting if I left.”

“Contrary to your totally unfounded belief, not everything in this school involves you.”

“Possibly,” the boy reasons, and then the smirk returns. “But you have to admit the majority of things do.”

Seemingly done with the conversation, Helena stomps over to the desk next to Sky and sets her things down. Her meaning is pretty clear to him: you’ll do, in comparison to being sat next to rat man.

The ticking of the clock succeeds in covering for their lack of conversation for all of about five minutes before Jack apparently just cannot keep words in his own head anymore and has to interrupt the perfectly nice silence again: “so how did you end up in detention, princess? Kiss a frog?”

“I don’t recall having any physical relations with you,” Helena says haughtily. “If I did, I can assure you I must have been under some sort of influence unwillingly and therefore I shall be suing imminently. And if you must know, I am being unfairly victimised for skipping my medieval lecture for a perfectly valid reason.”

“To get a nose job?” Jack asks innocently, “or was it Botox?”

That elicits a slight smile from Sky, which reminds the other two that he does in fact exist and it’s almost funny the way they both turn to face him as Jack continues his questioning, “what about you, Pagey?”

“Uh,” his mouth goes dry and he gulps, “weed… stuff,” he finishes lamely, shrugging as if that’s completely self explanatory. It should be. He damn well hopes it is, because frankly Sky does not have the strength to take part in this conversation and he’s really hoping that Helena can carry the anti Jack side of it without him. “You?” He asks hopefully, as if turning the conversation back to Jack will immediately throw him out of it and he can go back to his people watching.

“Oh, I jumped out a window,” Jack says airily, apparently oblivious to the looks of total confusion both Sky and Helena give him. The resulting silence proceeds to allow the clock ticking to become audible again.

“Are you seriously telling me,” Helena asks after about ten minutes have past and Sky can just about see Jack, out of the corner of his eye, beginning to meticulously colour in something which looks suspiciously like a poster, “that I have woken up today and willingly come to this godforsaken room and sat in the company of absolute dimwits and the teacher in charge is not even going to deign to show up?”

“Sometimes they just don’t,” Jack shrugs as if this is a usual occurrence. “Especially if they see me on the list.”

“Can’t blame them for that,” Helena mutters.

“Well, it would be hard not to treat me like the god I am. Can’t be unfair to the other students.” He grins. “Nah, guess they get lazy. I dunno. Most of the time I just leave.”

“Well that’s a wasted day of mine then.” She scowls. “Don’t they know time is money? Although I do have plenty of both.”

“That was the most ungraceful segway into a brag I have ever heard,” Jack observes, “and this is coming from me.”

“What can I say? I’m pretty, it allows for more leeway.”

She actually gets a laugh out of Jack from that, and it kind of fascinates Sky. Partly because he’s always assumed that Jack was more aggressive. He gets into enough fights for that. But he seems more… amused than anything else by the back and forth. Like he’s less of a punching devil and more of the type of person to push buttons out of enjoyment and amusement. He supposes that’s one way to get out of boredom.

“Hey, crybaby,” he’s so caught up in psychoanalysing the other two that he doesn’t realise for a minute that Jack is addressing him, and before he can say anything the other boy is waving a hand in front of his face. (He flinches back, predictably. God, he’s always so fucking predictable.) “You got any weed?” Jack asks, his face inches from Sky’s, close enough that Sky can see a stray eyelash on his cheek (would it be ridiculous to point it out considering that Jack would undoubtedly take that as Sky confessing his undying love for him?) and the freckles littering his cheeks.

“Uh.” Truthfully, Sky’s pretty sure this is going to end in him having to share so he’s really not willing to answer, but he’s never been good at lying so instead Jack gets a slow nod by way of response.

“Well there we fucking go,” Jack takes a step back thankfully, so he’s no longer close enough that Sky can literally smell whatever cologne he puts on (ugh, straight men) and glances back at Helena, gesturing wildly to Sky. “Don’t have to be a fucking waste of your day, princess. Or are you too good to come smoke a joint with me and Page?”

“My name’s Sky,” Sky offers. He is ignored.

“As long as nobody sees us,” Helena sniffs, but she gets up all the same, sliding her things into her bag. “And for the record, I’m a Queen, not a princess. I understand that your male mind finds words difficult though,” she adds with a condescending smile.

“I’m the British one,” Jack argues. “I’d know about fucking Queens.”

“I’m literally half English, you absolute cretin. My surname is literally Spencer. Like Princess fucking Diana? Ring any bells?”

“Nah,” Jack says with absolute conviction, “her surname was Wales.”

“No she was the Princess of Wal- oh my god,” Helena rolls her eyes with such energy that Sky is amazed that her eye muscles don’t straight up propel her out of the door. “Sky, can you please back me up?”

“I’m from Chicago,” Sky says helplessly, and gets two very dirty looks as they leave the classroom.

“I’d suck your dick,” he’s lost count of how many hits he’s in and the rooftop is starting to take on a hazy quality, which Sky attributes to the fact that he’s actually confident enough to laugh out loud at Jack’s comment, leaning back and looking up at the sky, “no you wouldn’t.”

“Sure I would,” Jack insists. “I’d try anything fucking once. And I never sucked a dick. Maybe it’s my fucking talent.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Sky’s words are coming out sing song and he lays back on the roof now, shaking his head still, “you’re such a straight boy it’s not even funny. Straight, straight, straight,” he takes a long drag on the joint and holds it out between two fingers to Helena, who is giving both of them another disgusted glare.

“Two boys talking about their penises. Exactly the company I desired. Not.”

“We could talk about vagina instead,” Jack offers diplomatically, so Sky mimes gagging. “Yeah, okay crybaby. We get it. You patented the fuck a boy at church camp vibe, we understand.”

“I didn’t fuck a boy at church camp,” Sky says indignantly.

“No, he probably fucked you,” Helena hisses.

“I thought you were too good for this conversation,” Jack observes.

“Do you see another conversation happening?”

“You could just shut up.”

“And let your disgusting accent ring in my ears? Horrific.”

“My accent is sexy.”

“I like Kai’s more,” Sky gets a glare from both of them for that. Oops. Supposes that’s what he gets for interrupting the bickering. “Yours is fine too,” he says quickly.

“God, just take a side,” Helena mutters. “It’s fine to admit Rat sounds like a coal miner, you know?”

“Isn’t that a bit….” Sky searches for the word. “Classist?”

“No, it’s a fact. Anyway,’ she points to Jack accusingly, “he didn’t even know Princess Diana’s surname. So his national pride is absolutely a farce.”

“She died in like, nineteen ninety whatever? That’s old news,” Jack argues.

“She,” Helena says hotly, “remains an international style icon.”

“Can we get back to vagina and/or dick yet?” Jack enquires hopefully. Sky resumes the pretend gagging.

“You become more disgusting with every waking moment,” she mutters under her breath. But Jack will probably take that as a compliment either way. “And I need to go.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” Jack looks up to bat his eyelashes at the girl, resulting in her flipping him off.

“I think I would miss the dog shit I stepped in more than you,” Helena informs him, before glancing at Sky. “You, though. We’re going shopping tomorrow.”

He gives her a confused look.

“You have potential,” she decides. “Like style wise. As an aesthetic and thankfully quiet sidekick.” He can take that. “Like a Harry Styles vibe but unattractive.”

Okay, Sky’s starting to regret listening.

“Or Timothée Chalamet minus the bone structure and redeemable features.”

He really regrets listening now.

“Doesn’t Timothée Champagne have chlamydia?” Jack asks with a gleeful smile.

“Didn’t everyone say you have AIDS?” Helena snaps. “Goodbye, male specimens. It is starting to rain and this blouse is vintage.”

[citrineghost]

A Letter to WordPress

Dear WordPress,

Tumblr has been around for a good while now and many of us have been here since the beginning (or close to it). It’s become something of a comfort and a home base for many. You can understand then why it’s so terrifying and tension-setting when a new owner comes around.

This website has been through a lot of changes, very few of them good in recent years. I want to open up a dialogue from the user base about our feelings and desires surrounding this site, because to so many of us, not only its design and function, but its success and future are a big deal.

Obviously not all of the things I list below will be universal opinions, but I’ll try to outline some of the things I’ve seen the majority of users want. I’ll also throw in some things that are more personal, because I can’t claim to know everything the rest of the users want, but I can tell you where I see obvious problems.

First and foremost, here’s an obvious one. You can’t really go anywhere on Tumblr without knowing: we want the bots and the nazis gone. We need some kind of captcha system for every time someone wants to include a hyperlink in a post or response. Until the staff count gets higher, I would honestly suggest closing down the report system for everything but bots, nazis, and death threats/suicide bait.

Make NSFW content welcome again. Outside of porn bots, the pervasiveness of NSFW content is slim to none. As long as minors and those with ‘NSFW’ blacklisted aren’t seeing the NSFW content, there’s nothing wrong with it being here. A large number of the people posting NSFW content on here are artists who use this content to make a living on commissions. The ban has done nothing but make valuable members of the Tumblr community leave and take their art elsewhere. The focus should be cracking down on anyone who isn’t properly tagging NSFW content with ‘NSFW’. If the focus is put on that, the problem with NSFW content will be null.

Please keep Tumblr unintegrated with other social media. Most users will agree, the anonymity is such a huge part of what draws us to Tumblr. Other people only know what we tell them and it’s very appealing for our real life accounts (e.g. Google, Facebook, etc.) to be completely separate. When users want to share links to other accounts, they can do so easily with links on their blogs.

Replace ads with either, better, more sensible ads or members content. A large part of the ads on Tumblr make absolutely zero sense just by looking at them. Not to mention, they’re all completely unfit for the user base. I’ve seen weight-loss ads (harmful to the many people on the site recovering from eating disorders) and ads for products most people wouldn’t need or want until their forties. Most of the user base is 13-35, if I had to guess. I can tell you right now, you would make more money and the user base would be much happier if ads were removed in favor of members content. Adding a paid membership that allows users to gain access to new features (rather than restricting what’s already here) would be a huge boost in morale and company income. Use that income to improve the site. Don’t get comfortable making more than the bare minimum in profit until the website is functioning reasonably well. Hint: it’s not right now.

Keep the base functions of Tumblr. Don’t try and get radical, hoping big changes will excite the community. They won’t. We’re creatures of habit and we just want memes, fandom, and relatable nonsense. Keep reblogging, replies, customizable blogs, tags, and likes functionally the same.

Be receptive to bug reports and post change logs so that the community knows that they’re being addressed and fixed.

These are the obvious pleas of the community. Please keep in mind that the heart of Tumblr is in its users and if you ostracize us, there will be nothing left. We love this website and we want to see it thrive as much as anyone. We just don’t want to sacrifice the spirit of the community in the process.

Read more under the cut if you want to see some more of my own personal suggestions. I’d love for other users to sound off in the replies with whether they agree with any of the pleas or suggestions and also give their own!

Okay, so, here are some personal opinions that are by no means the voice of the community. I think they’re pretty sensible, but what do I know?

Change back the color. I hate this saturated navy color and I’m pretty sure a lot of others do too. I’m part of the disabled community and I know and have seen people saying that these extremely contrasted colors that were added are making their Tumblr experience worse. It gives people headaches due to light sensitivity and, frankly, it’s ugly. If you’d like to cater to those who are visually impaired/colorblind, that’s fantastic! Do so with an account setting that turns on higher contrast mode or adds patterns to things to make them distinguishable.

Add an option to blog suggestions and posts that have shown up on your dash from followed tags that says “Stop Suggesting This.” I’ve been suggested a number of blogs that I’m not interested in following. I don’t want to block the user, but I do want some different suggestions and for those blogs to stop showing up in suggestions. I’m also tired of seeing the same post twenty times from a tag I follow. There is currently an option that says “This particular posts sucks.” While I think that was a great attempt at catering to the community, I don’t want to use it because my intuition says that there’s a negative connotation. Does me saying the post sucks make it show up less for other people? Does it lose popularity? I can’t tell. The only thing I know is that I don’t want to say that a good post sucks just to make it quit showing up on my dash.

Implement some of the features that XKit uses. I would bet at least a quarter, if not more, of Tumblr users use XKit to make using Tumblr less painful. That shouldn’t be the case. Tumblr should have these functionality options available in dashboard settings.

A very hot take here that many might disagree with: Make notes viewable more like mobile has them. As it is, it’s hard to tell which ones I’ve seen on desktop. It can be tricky on mobile too, honestly, but it’s easier than on desktop. I would also heavily suggest making the unseen notifications darker so that they stand out and making a button to indicate that you’ve seen them.

Keep the dash, messages, notes, and profile as separate processes similar to how mobile has it. The trek all the way down the damn dashboard is a long one. I want to be able to see notes and messages in full size without losing my dash progress. When I switch back I want to be right where I was. I understand if this one isn’t possible or practical. It was just something I like about mobile over desktop but I’m aware that they’re two different beasts with different capabilities.

As far as the aforementioned members features, I do have some ideas, but I can’t guarantee they’re the best the user base has to offer. I’m sure others could think of better. Anyway, some things I’ve thought of are groups/clubs, digital currency, and separate dashboards. So, as it stands, You can have multiple blogs on one account. People can follow them separately. That’s fantastic. What would also be nice though, is being allowed to make separate dashboards. This would probably take up another chunk of server space, so I understand if it isn’t feasible right now, but I would jot it down. The ability to separate shitposts, aesthetic imagery, fandom content, and NSFW would be amazing. If you follow a huge number of blogs, like me, you could even make a friends dash so that you don’t miss your friends’ posts. It would just be a matter of allowing people to add and name their new dashboards. Then, when they go to follow people, it prompts them to choose what dash their content goes to. You could even simplify it by making the follow button default to the main dash, but adding a little dropdown arrow beside it. You could then choose which dash to add them to from a list. Below are some bad paint-drawn concept drawings.

Anyway, I hope this has all been helpful in some way. I’m fairly certain that WordPress will never actually read this, but it was cathartic to write and I hope it will be cathartic for someone else to read.

Sincerely, birb-ghost

[hypocrisyofandrewdobson]

Alex Ze Pirate Reboot Book 3

Greetings friends. You may remember me from such submissions as Alex Ze Pirate Reboot Pitch and the looser Sequel Book pitch. I've been meaning to write a third entry while under quarantine, but didn't really have anything I liked until recently, when THOAD reblogged the analysis of Sam. Originally, my plan was to make a story more focused on one of the other crew, but instead I'm going to do something different to my normal work and rewrite an established arc instead of coming up with something new.

---

Chapter One

We begin at a trading post where Alex is haggling for drinks at a bar, the crew except for Peggy are hanging out there and seem to be in good spirits. Peggy comes in with the mail and hands Sam a letter. Immediately his spirits sink and he starts moping, though no one really pays much attention.

At the end of the night, Sam asks Alex if they could head back to Nina's port so he can take care of some personal business, but after last time, Alex has no interest in returning. Sam then offers to leave and go by himself but gets hit for this and then ordered back to the ship. That night he tries to sneak aboard a lifeboat but discovers Atea drilling holes in them under orders from Alex. 

Sam finally explains what's going on. The girl he gave the treasure chest to in the first book, named Jan, is sick, possibly dying, and he wants to go say goodbye. Atea points out that he'd have no idea how to get to the town and probably wouldn't make it on a rowboat. Sam asks Atea to try and convince Alex to give him a ride, which Atea says would never happen. Sam shrugs and walks back into town, looking down, as Atea calls out to him, saying sometimes people don't get what they want.

Chapter Two

A week later, the ship is out to sea. Sam is snappy at first but Alex is having none of it and the rest of the crew aren't all that sympathetic. Soon, another ship comes up beside them. Alex realises they're going to try and board and calls to arms. 

Atea hands out the guns as Sam goes below deck to man the cannons. Unfortunately, he preps and fires on the wrong side, so the other ship is able to board. The crew draw swords and fight the attackers, when they're struck by smoke bombs and Alex realises that none other than Nina the Ninja is on the crew. 

Nina dashes through the smoke and heads down below deck. Alex tries to go after her but is caught up fighting. As the smoke clears, Nina bursts out of the hold with a sack and runs back to her own ship, calling a retreat. The other crew leaves and Alex wonders what was taken. 

Later, after a look through the ship, Atea reports there was no significant damage, Talus reports that the supplies are fine and Peggy reports that none of the treasure was taken. Alex reasons that the sack she saw must have been a trick of the light and that everything's fine. Meanwhile, on the other ship, Nina has Sam. 

Chapter Three

The crew finally figures out Sam is gone and realise Nina probably took him to her home port. At first Alex has no interest in getting Sam back, reasoning that it's not worth risking getting arrested again just for the unworthy slob. Her attitude soon changes when everything goes to hell. 

As they set their destination, the crew starts to argue over who should do the cleaning as it's getting filthy despite their habits not changing. It becomes clear just how much he did for the crew, not just cleaning but by being a lightning rod for their abuse they never turned on each other. 

Realising they need him back to set things in order, they set up a temporary truce and agree to just live in filth since Sam will clean it up when he comes back. 

Meanwhile, on Nina's ship, she enters a cabin to see how Sam's doing. He's looking over the letter he got and hoping he can make it to Jan in time. We also learn that *Dun dun dun!* he was the one who contacted Nina so she'd come get him and take him to the orphanage. 

Chapter Four

It's been weeks since the main crew has washed anything and the ship is absolutely disgusting. But there is hope, they're a day away from the port town and they can see the other ship in the distance. But they're still wanted crooks and possibly outnumbered. So they get in the fixed rowboat and, as quietly as they can, row out to the ship in the early morning. 

The four get on board and try to sneak on, but unfortunately due to the fact that sound carries over water, the other ship knew they were coming and throws them in the brig. Alex demands to see Nina, but Atea points out that Sam isn't in there with them. Alex wonders what's going on, but reasons it won't matter since they'll eventually find him.

The ship reaches port and starts to dock as Peggy reveals he keeps gunpowder in his socks. They blow their way out of the brig, steal some swords and fight their way to the deck, where they see Nina pulling Sam along as they run across the docks. 

Chapter Five

Peggy heads back below decks as Atea and Talus deal with the crew. Alex fights her way through and reaches the docks. She calls out for Sam, but he seems to not hear her. Sam and Nina reach the street and are about to turn into an alley, when the building explodes, knocking them to the ground.

Peggy congratulates himself on nailing the shot as Nina and Sam get to their feet. Nina sees Alex coming and yells at Sam that they need to move. Sam sees her and takes off, pointing out there's another way. 

The cannon fire has brought the guards attention and when they see Alex, they rightly assume she has something to do with it. She manages to evade the guards and continues chasing, not wanting to let Nina win. 

Nina and Sam reach the orphanage, Nina telling Sam to get inside while she holds Alex off. Nina and Alex fight, Nina pointing out how stupid and selfish Alex is being, but Ze Captain will never admit to fault and refuses to listen.

Nina missteps into a pothole and gives Alex an opening to knock her down. Laughing in glee, Alex storms into the orphanage and runs through, shouting for Sam. She finally finds him, kneeling next to a figure covered with a white sheet, with tears in his eyes.

He was too late.

Chapter Six

Alex shuts up, having the decency to look somewhat ashamed. Nina rushes in and sees Sam, realising what happened. Sam mutters than Jan died five minutes previously. This just pisses off Nina, who yells at Alex that if she hadn't delayed them, they would have made it with plenty of time to spare. 

Unable to accept fault, Alex fires back that Sam had a duty to the crew when he signed on and knew they couldn't come back without risking capture. She goes on a tirade, insisting this was all Sam and Nina's fault. Nina has had enough and is about to attack, when Sam pleads with them not to do this in front of Jan's body. Out of respect, Nina walks away. Alex does too, but not before telling Sam he has ten minutes and then she expects him to head back to the docks. 

Outside, the guards arrest Alex and throw her in a cell with the other three. But they're not worried, they know about Sam's account from the second book and know he'll bail them out again. And he does. He heads to the bank, withdraws enough for bail and heads for the jail, when Nina stops him.

Realising no matter what she says, Sam will probably defend Alex or insist that their friends, Nina tries a different tactic. She offers to bail the crew out herself and tells Sam he should use his money for Jan's funeral. Sam admits he'd rather do this and agrees. 

However, she's lying. The crew are sentenced to hard labour, but Alex is in denial throughout the trial, insisting Sam is about to walk through the doors with the money. It never happens, Nina told Sam that the crew would be released in a week.

In the cemetery, a bunch of children who knew Jan lay flowers on her grave as Sam stands there with Nina. Nina walks away to a nearby cliff where she sees the other four being forced onto a prison ship. Alex swears vengeance against Sam and Nina for her predicament and the ship heads off into the sunset. 

---

I'm wondering whether I went too far with this but I'm considering if I kept writing these that Alex and the others would actually make for an interesting team of villains. Of course, when I finished the book two pitch I thought the next one would be a story where Peggy runs into some old friends and we have his origin in flashbacks connected to the current adventure. 

Also, not sure about killing Jan. Maybe I should have said she was pregnant with Sam's kid and that's what causes him to ditch the crew but with Sam, he'd probably try to bring the kid and her along, or try to stay with the crew so he could work to support them. 

Anyway, as always let me know what you guys think and thanks for reading my dumb fan fic that I've probably put way more thought into than Dobson ever did. Seeya next time. 

“Hey, nice to see a Part 3 from you! As for the story itself, it’s definitely different, but it’s an interesting take on the story, so I think it can work well. And there’s setup for additional tension once Sam finds out that Nina lied to him. Sam not making it in time is definitely a tragic moment, one that could also help him decide to not deal with Alex and crew anymore. On the other hand, him getting them in time to have one last conversation(let’s say a minute or so) could work too, if the girl tells him to be happy or something similar. At any rate, well done with this. I definitely enjoyed reading it!” -THOAD

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 5

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, NSFW (my permanent tag for this series), fraying at the edges

WC: 7.3k

---------

The dialing sound Niall’s phone makes is the British one. He tries to feel comforted by it. It reminds him of calling his nan. He could use some comfort, that’s why he’s calling Niall. 

It rings twice more. Shawn’s very sure he’s about to get his voicemail which he doesn’t even think Niall checks and he doesn’t blame him because Shawn mostly texts him anyway, but he really wanted to kind of talk this out and--

“Hey, mate,” Niall greets. It sounds like he’s outside, probably in London. He hears traffic and distant car horns.

“Heyyyy,” Shawn begins casually, pressing his fingers through his hair and striding out to the balcony of his house even though he’s completely alone, “What’s up, man?”

“I’m over in London for a couple meetings and a friend’s wedding. Headin’ out to me local. What’s up?”

Shawn sighs. He squints one eye at the horizon, then the other. “I just did something… really stupid.”

Niall chuckles. His favorite start to any story. “How stupid?”

“Pretty… fucking stupid,” Shawn groans, closing both his eyes, “I just got back from Vegas.”

“I know! Everyone’s buzzin’ about iHeart Summer. Heard you killed it, mate, congratulations! Good craic?”

“Yeah, yeah, it was great,” Shawn mumbles distractedly, “But I brought Penny.”

“Oh,” Niall chirps, clearly expecting him to admit something much worse, “That’s fine, lad, I’ve flown Karina’r out places before. ‘S not a big deal.”

Shawn nods impatiently, “No, no, I know, it’s not that. We just… god, we had the most amazing night. It was… honestly, I really think it was the best sex I’ve ever had. And then I did something completely insane.”

Niall’s brow furrows. He keeps one eye up on the crosswalk signal. “Don’t tell me ya fookin’ married ��er.”

“I… I bought her a necklace. A really, really expensive, insane necklace. Frank Sinatra gave it to Ava Gardner in like the 1950s. I had it delivered to her.”

Niall guffaws. His cornflower blue eyes dance as he cackles, stepping into the street, unbothered by the eyes he draws. “You’re kidding me.”

“I’m not,” Shawn croaks, slumping a shoulder against the sliding door, angling his eyes down, “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I got carried away. We just… that night… and then the festival, I mean, shit, I’ve never played a show like that before. I’ve never had a night like that onstage. I thought I had and then I played that show and it’s like… god, Ni, she got me somewhere. I don’t even know where. 

“So I got back after the show like, buzzing. We were out all night celebrating after. I got back at like 5 AM and I called the guy that helped me pick out those earrings for my mom for Christmas and he said he had this necklace and Sinatra fucking designed it and, dude, she loves Sinatra, like loves him, and I just snapped and bought it. Put the fucking deposit on my Amex and called La Splendeur to arrange the delivery.”

Niall’s still laughing. “Wow.”

“I’m such an asshole,” Shawn mumbles, letting a short chuckle break through, “I mean, what the hell is she going to think? She’s going to think I’m fucking obsessed with her.”

“It kinda sounds like you are,” Niall prods, shoving his free hand in his pocket as he strides down the busy street.

“I know I am, but I don’t need her knowing that!” Shawn gripes.

“Listen, girls like her get fancy gifts all the time. She’s used to it, mate. It probably won’t faze her.”

That definitely doesn’t make Shawn feel better. If he’s going to be an obsessed asshole, he at least wants to be the only one in her life.

“Or worse, she’ll think I’m just throwing money at her because that’s all she’s worth to me.”

Shawn realizes with a swoop of his gut that that’s his true fear. The idea that Penny thinks he just wants to buy her makes him want to lose his lunch over the railing. He winces and rubs a hand over his eyes. 

“Mate, you’re overreacting. When you’re with her, do you treat her like a hooker?”

Shawn blinks. “No, of course not.”

“No. Because you’re a good lad. She’s spent enough time around you to know that. She’s not going to think you’re trying to reduce her to a piece of jewelry. She’s probably flattered. I’m sure she loves it. It’s a thoughtful gift, too, if she loves Sinatra. Hey, I love Sinatra and you’ve never bought me a priceless necklace that he designed.”

Shawn snorts. “When you fuck me like she can, I’ll get you his whole collection of pinky rings.”

Niall beams. “That’s the spirit.”

+

“I haven’t even touched it yet,” Penny hisses into the phone, circling the red box sitting dead center on her bed like a snake charmer eyeing a viper.

“Well, you should. It’s been in a box since the 90s. It deserves a little skin,” Silver replies.

Penny purses her lips. “I… cannot believe he did this.”

“Well, not to sound… anyway, it’s hardly the most expensive gift you’ve ever received.”

Penny’s mind jumps to the Aston Martin in her garage and she bites her lip. “No, I know… but… I mean, it’s so soon.”

Silver bobs her head and runs her finger along the strand of pearls at her throat, they themselves a gift from a client long ago.

“It’s the buzz, baby. Everyone’s saying his name after that performance of his. He probably just wanted to show you some gratitude. Several thousand dollars worth.”

Penny perches beside the open Cartier box, still a safe distance. She reaches out with a fingertip, timidly stroking the largest stone at the center, where it would hang beautifully between her collarbones if she weren’t too chicken to try it on.

She swallows. “He can’t… know how much this means to me. He can’t possibly, I’ve only mentioned it in passing.”

She’s referring to her lifelong love affair with Frank Sinatra. The people who know her well, and there are few, know Old Blue Eyes has been the apple of Penny’s eye since she was a kid. So to own something that was once his, that he helped to design, something he made for someone so important to him… 

“I don’t know if I can keep this,” Penny breathes.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Silver nearly snaps, “This isn’t a sweater you can return. This is practically a historical treasure. And it’s yours, he wanted you to have it. And… Pen, it was Frank’s.”

“That’s the other thing!” Penny squeaks, springing up from the bed to launch into another pacing session, “I’m sure he has no idea of the implications of this necklace. He doesn’t know the story. Ava Gardner was the love of Frank’s life. He loved her madly until the day he died. Everything they went through together, everything they put each other through… it’s the stuff of Hollywood legend. It’s the kind of love you wish on your worst enemy.”

Silver quiets. Penny is flying off the handle. The only way to calm her down is to keep head head low.

“You’re right, I’m sure he doesn’t know. Please don’t panic, Penny m’love, it’s a nice gift. Take it as that. And for the love of god, insure it.”

Penny slumps into the vintage 40s armchair in the corner of her sun-strewn bedroom, eyeing the necklace again.

“Peter’s going to die when I tell him.”

Silver smiles. “I’ve got to dash, petal, give me a call tomorrow when you have time to run through our corporation paperwork.”

Penny signs off and drops her phone into the seat beside her. Slowly, she stands, heading for the full length mirror. She focuses on her neck, her unblemished throat, her stately collarbones. She runs her fingertips against her skin. She reaches down and lifts her tank top, tossing it aside. Her breasts are soft and full, more than a generous handful crowned by perky brown nipples. She cups them, massaging her warm skin, enjoying the weight of them in her hands. Then she goes for her pajama shorts, the little blue ones with the fluffy white clouds on them. She pushes them down until they drop around her ankles.

She stands naked as the day she was born in her bedroom. She turns, admiring the swell of her ass in her reflection, the glorious mapping of stretchmarks around her hips and thighs, brushing a hand over the birthmark on her lower back. She takes a deep breath and steps to the bed, reaching for the red box.

The necklace is so heavy. She knew it would be heavy, studded by 159 diamonds (she counted), but it’s even heavier than she imagined. Maybe it’s heavier to her because of its significance. 

The clasp is fiddly. She very gently eases it open, lifts her gaze to the mirror and guides it around her throat, only releasing her hold when she’s very sure the clasp is secure. Her eyes are closed. She adjusts its position until she can feel with her fingers that the largest diamond is dead center in the little valley between her collarbones. She can’t look until it’s perfect.

And oh god, it’s so perfect.

One of Penny’s hands covers her mouth, the other rests against her stomach as she sucks in a gasping breath. Her eyes well. Her bronzed cheeks flush. Slowly, she pries her fingers away from her mouth and takes a closer look.

It’s magnificent. It’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. And it’s hers.

He got it for her.

Penny wets her lips and closes her eyes, overwhelmed again. He can’t possibly know it, but he just gave her her most prized possession. How does she thank him? More importantly, how do they proceed from here?

The latter question seems too much to answer so soon. So she focuses on the former.

Chewing on her lip, staring at the largest center stone like it will show her the secrets of the universe, Penny thinks. After a few moments, her eyes flit to a shelf holding a bulky black DSLR camera with a folded tripod stashed underneath.

An hour later, she’s loading a set of photos onto a thumb drive and planting a pouty berry red kiss onto a piece of cardstock. Both get folded into a padded envelope addressed to a Mr. Shawn Mendes with no return address.

+

Standing over his suitcase with a hand on one hip, Shawn scrolls down to “Orthodontist” in his contacts and hits “new message,” feeling heat rise in his cheeks.

He hasn’t been home from Vegas for 48 hours yet. He’s unpacking his suitcase only to repack for the next festival, Wet & Wild Summer Fest in Atlanta. He’s calmed down a bit about the necklace fiasco. Niall helped assuage his concerns, as did a little time and space. Not much, but a little. He finds he starts to get twitchy after the 24 hour mark away from her when he doesn’t have another booking lined up.

It should be concerning. It should have him stepping back to reevaluate his priorities. It should mean his dick is fucking exhausted.

But it doesn’t.

Hey Penny, it’s Shawn. Idk if Colette gave you my number. I wanted to see if you’re around before I leave for Atlanta on Wednesday. So… tomorrow I guess lol

He hits send before he can think too hard about it. Thinking too hard is always his downfall. He hopes the message comes off as charming and casual. He shoves his phone in his pocket, on vibrate of course, so he doesn’t stare at it and pick it apart.

After-overthinking. Also one of his downfalls.

Five minutes later, the buzz in his back pocket feels like it gives him a mini heart attack.

Orthodontist: Hi! I wish I could. I’m not available tomorrow. 

Orthodontist: P.S. Received your gift. It took my breath away. I’m sending you a little something to show my gratitude.

Shawn drops the phone on top of the pyramid of sock rolls he’s loading into the suitcase and presses his face into his hands with a groan.

So much to overanalyze.

Admittedly, he had half deluded himself into imagining he was her only client now, that she’d cleared the bench for him. But that was naive. Of course he’s not her only client. Not only is she likely one of if not the most sought after women at La Splendeur, she has an established career with probably plenty of regulars. He’s just been lucky so far that she’s been so available to him.

He shouldn’t be reading into this as a “stay away from me you expensive necklace-buying freak” thing. Right?

Right.

Plus, she’s sending him something. What the fuck could she be sending him? His mind floods with possibilities, from the filthy to the ridiculous. 

But, really, the biggest thing is the pang he feels at the idea of going at least another week without seeing her. He would like to imagine their last encounter, as… un-fucking-believable as it was, would keep him on a high long enough to get him through it, but he’s too hooked on her already. He seems to need a fix more frequently than even last week, and even more desperately.

He really should think about slowing this down. Maybe stopping altogether.

… but god, what is she sending him?

+

She’s got Frank’s Come Fly with Me album spinning on the record player and her favorite Fleur du Mal skin-toned slip on as she brushes some Guerlain highlight on her cheeks, her eyes straying to the stunning necklace against her throat so often that she’s almost running late from the distraction.

Penny is never late.

She huffs at herself and stands back to assess. She catches Pamela’s big brown eyes in the mirror and grins, her shimmery nude-painted lips spreading.

“Stop looking at mommy like that,” she teasingly begs. At the sound of Penny’s voice, Pamela’s tail thumps against the ground. Penny laughs and shakes her head, her flossy curls bobbing around her upper arms as she reaches for her dress, a floaty sand-colored number by Alice + Olivia. In the right light, she looks almost bare. It doesn’t matter. Everyone’s going to be looking at the necklace.

With a final intoxicating spritz of Tom Ford Costa Azzurra, Penny steps outside to greet Gus.

Jamie got asked to a community center dance by a boy. Ty is beside himself, Gus likes to think he’s handling it well. Penny lives for the details.

Christian Becker is already waiting for her under the overhang of the Beverly Hilton. He doesn’t have to -- she wouldn’t have a problem following a young intern in to find him. He’s entirely too famous and important to be standing outside an event like this waiting for her. But he always likes to, so she lets him.

Christian is a thrice-divorced father of four. He’s the editor-in-chief of Vertigo Magazine, a once upstart music blog turned highly respected online publication (Lady Gaga was last month’s cover feature.) He’s also one of Penny’s oldest clients.

Gus rolls down the window as Penny gathers her clutch to step out.

“Evening, Gus,” croons Christian, smooth as ever as he leans into the passenger side with his wire transfer confirmation on his phone. Gus barely checks it. Christian is “good people,” as Gus likes to say.

“Mr. Becker, you’re looking well. How are the kids?”

“Getting bigger every day. How’re Jamie and Ty?” He holds open the door and takes Penny’s hand. Gus doesn’t bother to answer, smiling warmly as he watches Penny emerge from the back of the car. Christian releases a low whistle, looking her up and down as she steps out into the evening.

“Miss Penny, you’ve done it again.”

She tilts her chin coyly, narrowing her eyes. “And what is it I’ve done this time, Mr. Becker?”

“You got more beautiful. We’ve talked about this, Penny. You gotta stop that.”

She laughs, a laugh close to her very own. She shakes her head. “You sound like a grandpa.”

Christian mimes a dagger being driven into his chest, wincing. “I’m only 54.”

Penny nods placatingly, “And your Winnie is almost 16.”

“God, don’t remind me. C’mon, honey, let’s head in. Have a good night, Gus. Don’t worry. I’ll have her home by 10!”

Gus chuckles and pulls away back into the line of exotic cars leaving the event. Christian, head to toe in Dior, holds his flawlessly-tailored arm out for Penny to hold. She takes it and strides forward, matching his springy steps.

They look well together. Christian doesn’t look any older than 45, save for the salt and pepper hair. He’s extremely tall, fit and built, rugged, the kind of man who you can’t quite imagine without his facial hair. 

Christian’s smart. He’d have to be, obviously, to turn a blog screaming amongst the din of millions into a revered and oft-referenced bible of music. But he’s smart about the industry, too. He knows how it looks to walk into an event with a 21-year-old in a mini dress whose only contribution to a conversation is extolling the virtues of Ed Sheeran’s last album.

So instead, Christian brings Penny along as a friend. Truly, that’s all it is, all it has been since after their first night together. He said he liked her too much to continue sleeping with her, muttering something about how “everything my dick touches turns to shit.” Their dates are not sexual, they’re business. Penny can work a room. She can charm anyone into an exclusive interview, into drinks to discuss a potential venture. She’s his most powerful secret weapon and one of his favorite conversationalists. 

Tonight is Vertigo Magazine’s annual “Summer Lovin’” party where guests, exclusively musicians and industry types, gather to mix and mingle. Christian likes to brag that for the last eight years, a hit collab has come out of initial conversations had at “Summer Lovin’.” The bragging works -- it’s one of the hottest tickets in town.

The ballroom is packed. Real palm trees surround them, along with bamboo and waiters serving cocktails in exotic fruit. The theme is Blue Hawaii. Under the Dior, Christian’s in a custom designed Hawaiian shirt printed with Vertigo Magazine’s logo. The DJ is playing Iz.

Penny fixes him with a look. Christian barks a laugh.

“Too much?”

“I just got back from Vegas and I can confidently say, yes. This is too much.”

Christian grins in that boyish, easily forgivable way. “Just like I like it, then.”

He loops an arm around her waist as he surveys the garish decorations proudly, planting his lips on her temple as she swipes a frothy coconut beverage off a passing waiter’s tray.

Christian glances down at her and hums. “Speaking of too much, you’re the one dripping in diamonds.”

Penny only barely tries to hide her bashful smile. She lifts a delicate hand to press against the heavy stones. “Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to. A client gift?” he guesses, narrowing his eyes.

“Nobody you know,” Penny lies smoothly.

Christian laughs again, squeezing her hip. He ducks his head to speak into her ear when he gets distracted, waylaid by a passing VIP that Penny doesn’t recognize but probably should. Christian releases her temporarily to schmooze with a crooked smile and she turns to glance around the room.

She bobs her head to an oddly chosen Hawaiian folk song and twiddles the biodegradable straw in her drink. There are famous faces everywhere -- the Little Mix girls, Luke Bryan, Pitbull, Dave Grohl. Penny chuckles to herself. Only Christian could get away with throwing a party like this and still having the who’s who of the industry at his beck and call.

She sweeps a curl off her shoulder, unwilling to let anything get in the way of her necklace’s glimmer. As she does, she feels a gaze. It’s not exactly unusual for her. But there’s heat in it, enough to make her look back.

Head to toe in deep blue, shirt unbuttoned to mid chest, a perfectly placed curl hanging over his forehead is Shawn bloody Mendes staring straight at her, watching Christian Becker’s fingers absently trace over the ridges of the necklace against her collarbone.

+

Penny swings her head back around so fast her long hair swirls, catching in the scruff of Christian’s beard. She plays it off, giggling and swiping at it as she rests a hand against his upper back and tries not to feel like she’s on fucking fire.

This has happened before, she reminds her rioting body, You have been in this position. 

Of course she has. LA is a small, small town. There are only so many people that can afford her. Of course she’s been at public events and seen former or even current clients. It does not have to be an international incident.

But it fucking feels like one. Her heart is sprinting. Her head feels light enough to pop off her body to float around with the paper lanterns on the ceiling. Her hand on her chest is the only thing steadying her until Christian’s bulky, muscled arm pulls her back in gently by her waist.

Like the professional she is, she snaps in. Her smile is dazzling. Her quippy comment is light but witty, charming. The hand she places on Christian’s upper abdomen when they all laugh is soft but firm. She’s in control.

+

Shawn flies into a possessive, unadulterated rage for about 15 seconds before cold reality hits hard.

Somehow even before she turned around, he knew she’d be wearing it. She’s wearing his fucking necklace while another man’s hands are all fucking over her. His stomach is in knots. His neck burns hot, he bets even his exposed chest is flushed. He wants to scream, maybe even go full caveman and drag her away from Christian Becker, of all fucking people. He even likes Christian Becker. But Penny, he…

So not the path to go down right now.

Thankfully, the red mist doesn’t last long. He’s immediately disgusted with himself for even letting his mind start to go there. But he still can’t stop staring at her.

She didn’t take the Blue Hawaii theme as literally as he did. She’s radiant in a floaty dress that looks like a beach and he looks like a dopey extra on a movie set. He wasn’t even planning on coming to this party -- he’d much rather have spent the night with her in some hotel he doesn’t care about the name of getting his stupid mind blown. But Andrew convinced him, told him Tiffany had a suit ready, even had blue suede boots. 

So Shawn decided to play dress up and be friendly with industry types even if the only thing he cares about right now, other than Penny screwing his brains out, is the album he’s already written that’s being released in the fall. He’s not in the headspace to think about a collab right now. But that’s what he pays Andrew for.

It didn’t even cross his mind that she could be here. It did not even occur to him. But he knew it was her when he saw her even between throngs of people in dim lighting. It’s her bare shoulder blades. He adores them. He’d know them anywhere.

Once she’s turned back around, her poker face back on, letting Becker pet her and show her off, he slugs back a sip of his rum cocktail. He forces himself to turn around because he will certainly blow their cover if he keeps staring at the call girl he’s obsessed with from across the room.

Now that the rage is gone, it’s replaced by a hollow, whiny feeling. Turns out despite Niall’s sage advice and what Shawn thought were enough self reminders that this is something he could simply walk away from, he aches.

He’s being ridiculous. The truth is, he barely knows Penny. He doesn’t even know her last name. And it’s not like he thought he was her only client. He’s not insane. But… he feels a little lame beside Christian Becker. The man is a legend. He’s done blow with at least 75% of Shawn’s heroes. The stories he can probably tell make Shawn want to pout. 

But he can’t pout. He can’t even talk to her. He has to just deal with this and try to find a way to be a man about it. The best way is probably to ignore her as much as he can. It’s hard when she feels like a magnet in the center of a room, sparkling brighter than the disco ball even without the necklace.

God, the necklace. He had finally gotten to a place of feeling kind of ok about that outrageous gesture and now he can worry about it all over again, he can feel like a desperate young fool trying to get the attention of a sophisticated woman in a garish and heavy-handed way. He frustrates himself nearly to tears.

And then he sees her, in front of him this time, tooling with Christian around the bar. Before he can steel himself, he realizes she’s already watching him. He’s… stunned. He almost picks his hand up and, like, waves like an idiot but then she’s leaning into Christian as he says something.

He looks down. His glass is empty. He’ll wait to go to the bar.

+

It’s all she can do to keep from planting her feet, locking her knees and screaming “NO!” like an impassioned toddler when Christian suggests a trip to the bar. Shawn has been stationed there for 45 minutes with a couple members of his team and, inexplicably, Brad Paisley. She hopes there isn’t anything fruitful coming from that conversation. But soon she’ll be close enough to listen for herself.

She doesn’t usually drink so much on the job, for obvious reasons. But how she could be expected to get through this fiasco without booze is beyond her, so she keeps the pina coladas coming. Christian doesn’t seem to mind. Her strong desire to focus on anything other than Shawn and his sad, but somehow searingly hot eyes, his bare chest, his fucking blue suede shoes is compelling enough to have her at the top of her game. She’s wheeling and dealing beside him better than even he’s ever seen.

She talks a little louder, a little faster until she has slowly managed to get Christian far enough from the bar that she can breathe again. She still feels Shawn’s eyes every few moments, like he’s checking to make sure she’s still there, she’s still with her date, she’s still wearing the necklace.

As the night wears on, the eye contact grows… reckless. They’re both drinking. They’re both loosening up. They’re both curious. So they’ve made it a sport. They lock eyes occasionally, but never for very long, just long enough to get their pulses racing. Shawn will glance at her, she’ll tuck hair behind her neck, exposing the spot below her ear that gets her gasping his name. She’ll spare him a glance, and he’ll wet his lips before he takes a sip of his drink through a smirk.

It’s childish and irresponsible and it has Penny a little wet.

Finally, Christian takes the stage to thank his guests. Penny stands in the crowd, a beacon of grace despite the gallon of fucking Malibu rum in her system. She’s literally shoulder to shoulder with people like Questlove and Demi Lovato, but the only thing she can think about is where he might be.

And then, without knowing, she knows. She can feel him. He’s standing right behind her. She can smell his fucking cologne. She can feel the testosterone-fueled heat tumbling off him. She can even feel the smirk on his face -- it’s enough to make her want to turn around and force him to his knees. 

The worst part for Penny is knowing he’d go willingly.

She huffs an aggravated sigh and senses him chuckle, unable to hear it over Christian’s corny speech. She folds her hands over her front, nudging at her Cartier ring with her fingers. She tries not to imagine Shawn slowly looking her up and down but her goddamn skin is crawling with it like it’s ready to drag her back into his arms without her permission.

She grits her teeth and fights fire with fire.

Penny reaches back and drags her curls over one shoulder, exposing the shoulder blades he likes to teethe at, the clasp of the necklace he bought her, and the sensual nape of her neck all at once. She turns her face, lips parted, profile backlit by the stage lights. She doesn’t have to see him to feel him go stiff all over.

Checkmate.

+

The night is winding down. Shawn can already feel his hangover starting in his fucking teeth. He didn’t watch Penny leave with Christian. The game they were playing seemed a lot less fun when he realized it had to end without them in the same hotel room. He stayed behind after his team left to catch up with a couple producer friends he hasn’t seen, and to prolong heading home alone to wonder if Penny touches Christian the way she touches him.

He shakes his big, heavy head and reaches for his phone. He wants to text her. What the fuck he would say is of no consequence -- he’s not actually going to do it. He just wants to think about the option.

He doesn’t have to think about it, though. Because she’s there, standing by the pickup line, slouched against a column, probably waiting for Christian.

He’s a fucking masochist, but she already knows that. He strides up casually and stands on the other side of the column.

“Nice night?” he grunts, just hoping his voice doesn’t break.

Penny doesn’t look terribly surprised to see him. Shawn bristles at his own predictability.

“Lovely.”

“You look… really beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes holding on hers instead of scraping over her heavenly body, “The necklace looks amazing on you.”

Her eyes show a flash of guilt. She purses her lips and ducks her head. “Thank you. It’s…” She trails off, wetting her lips, “This means more than you know, Shawn.”

The same tingle he got when the jeweler sent him the photo sparks up again from his toes, the one that told him the necklace belongs to Penny. He lets it overwhelm him enough to look over at her, his smile tipping into goofy territory.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Penny runs a finger along the side of her neck. Shawn follows it, swallows roughly. He looks back down.

“Where’s… um…” He can’t bring himself to say his name.

“He left. His kids were waiting up for him.”

Shawn’s head lifts so fast his neck cracks a little. “He’s… you’re not…”

Penny’s nose twitches. She keeps her eyes forward on the cars. “Christian hires me to attend events with him. He enjoys my company. I act as a good buffer. We don’t fuck.”

She spares him one glance. His jaw has dropped.

“You’re… going home?” Shawn chokes.

“I’m going home.” Penny’s voice is smooth and warm like her naked skin.

Shawn takes a deep breath. He reaches behind the column and gently wraps his fingers around her wrist.

“Don’t.”

The air in Penny’s lungs leaves in a rush. She takes a moment to gather herself before glancing at him. She swallows and lifts her chin, ready to give him his marching orders.

“Stay here. Do the wire transfer. Gus will be here any minute. Show it to him. I’m getting a room. I’ll text you the number.”

He doesn’t have time to comment or argue (not that he would) before she turns on a heel and walks inside. If Shawn’s not totally delusional, she’s hurrying a little.

+

Gus is comfortable enough around Shawn to openly chuckle at his eagerness now. Another on the long list of indicators that Shawn spends too much time with Penny. Instead of bristling, he grins crookedly.

“Does she drive everyone this crazy?” Shawn asks, tucking his phone back into his pocket after Gus nods at the wire transfer confirmation.

Gus, behind the wheel, bobs his head with a mysterious twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah. But maybe you more than others.”

Shawn licks his lips and nods as Gus pulls away, still laughing. After two seconds of staring at his shoes, Shawn bolts for the elevator.

The party has cleared out, mostly. The only people left to see him bouncing on his toes waiting for the lift are the ones busy breaking down the event. When the elevator doors slide open, Shawn lurches inside. 

As it rises, Shawn grips either end of the mirrored doors, unwilling to look his reflection in the eye. He hears his own breathing, feels the way his heart riots in his aching chest. He closes his eyes. He has to calm down. He’s too riled up for her already, has been all night. The way she couldn’t stop looking at him, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her -- about how she feels and tastes and sounds when she’s so close to coming that he doesn’t need the verbal warning she sometimes gives, he knows it like he knows his own name.

The elevator dings and he’s burrowed far enough into the thought of her that it actually takes him a second to scramble upright and get himself out before the doors shut. 

He knocks quietly, like he’s aware that the walls of this hotel held a lot of influential people only hours earlier. Tonight, he has to trust those walls with his secrets the way he trusts Penny. He fights not to scrape a hand through his hair -- Anna did it just so, so that the curl dropping over his forehead lands just right.

She opens the door barefoot, dressed but looking and feeling naked. In better light he can see the way the color of the dress nearly matches her skin tone beneath it. He grunts gently, letting his head fall back.

“Jesus, sometimes I just…” His voice wanders. He shakes his head and lifts it back upright to look at her.

“You fucking overwhelm me,” he mutters. His eyes land on the necklace again.

Still standing in the doorway, he wets his lips and shifts on his feet.

“Touch me,” she rasps, her chest filling as she inhales, tilting her chin up slightly as she invites him to her neck.

Shawn pulls himself into the room, letting the door shut behind them. He cups the side of her neck with one hand and explores with the calloused fingertips of the other, enjoying the way it sits on her, the way the largest stone in the center fits perfectly between the notches of her collarbone in the spot he likes to bite when she lets him.

“It’s perfect,” he whispers, his hand falling away. His smile is wistful.

You’re perfect.

His jaw clamps shut. He looks at her, waiting. Her eyes are hot with anticipation, but she’s not anticipating him -- it’s like she herself doesn’t know what she’s going to do to him, with him when she lets herself move. He revels in her electric indecision, willing and ready.

She throws herself into his body with a weak whine, one kind of like the sounds he’s prone to making around her. He catches her easily, holding her up so her toes skim the ground as she plunders his mouth. She’s still not quiet once she pins herself to him. She moans and whimpers and sighs like she’s never had him before. He’s too stunned to react beyond letting her do whatever the fuck she wants while he holds her.

Soon, she grows restless, unsatisfied by the limitations of standing in the center of the room, wrapping around him like a python. She needs more. Whatever it is, he’ll make sure she has it.

Penny nudges him backwards and wriggles until the tips of her toes meet the ground. She steers him to the bed, shoving him when they get close enough. He collapses into it with a yelping groan, but she swallows it so fast he’s gasping for breath in her mouth like he needs the oxygen in her lungs.

Does he know? Can he possibly know her so deeply already? The panic has been static in her mind for a couple of days since the necklace arrived.

Logically, she understands it -- she’s mentioned Sinatra, has played him a few times in Shawn’s presence. He probably just saw Frank’s name attached to the piece and thought she’d like it. He’s thoughtful. That’s all.

It doesn’t have to be deeper, but it feels so much fucking deeper. Everything did tonight. She’s never been so distracted on a date, even in similar circumstances where she was dodging one client while on the arm of another.

She’s deluded, she’s drunk on the night and his suit and his lips and his eyes and her fucking necklace but it felt… so big. Frank and Ava big. 

It’s just a necklace, it’s just a necklace, she chants in her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she shamelessly ruts against his pelvis, her dress riding up to her waist, the silk of her panties soaked through already. It’s no wonder why -- as she’s been tangling with her own mind, she’s been riding him hard.

She breaks off from his swollen mouth away to his jaw and he gasps an inhale so loud she thinks she was suffocating him. But he doesn’t let her go. He only locks his heavy arms around her tighter, one anchored to her ass, the other stretched between her shoulder blades that he loves so much.

“Fuck, Penny, I’m--”

She knows what he’s going to say. He’s beyond hard. He might even be as close as she is. He walked in the door under five minutes ago and she’s already heading for an orgasm like a train off its tracks.

She doesn’t fucking care. She’s not stopping now.

“No,” she hisses, “Just like this. Keep fucking me just like this.”

His breath stops in his throat. His eyes, glazed and dark, snap up to hers.

It’s just a necklace, it’sjustanecklace--

God, she’s going to fucking come. His cock is so hard against her clit even through their clothes. Her whole body pulses with it. She comes so much better, harder with something inside to clench down on but her body doesn’t care now.

“Penny.”

It’s not a whisper or a murmur, it’s just a breath and he says it like it’s his last one.

It’s not just a necklace. It wasn’t just a necklace to Ava. It wasn’t just a necklace to Frank.

Penny comes jerking, hips spasming, thighs clenched around him. It’s short and sizzling hot and she chants his name right through it until she sinks her teeth into his shoulder and he comes too, silent like she’s never seen him, his face going bright red as his voice fails him and his wet mouth drops open in a scream without sound.

It takes him longer to come down than her. As he trembles beneath her, she noses at his earring, the little hoop in his left lobe, peppering it with kisses, tasting and licking the salt from his sweat dripping down from his sideburns.

He’s quiet beneath her like he’s not sure what to say. She has no issue with this -- she doesn’t have much to say either. His hand, the one on her back, traces the distance between her shoulder blades with his fingers like he’s trying to measure without looking.

Slowly, like it’s difficult to physically separate from him, she lifts her head. Despite the circumstances, his hair is still pretty intact. It makes her smile and tug at the forehead curl with a smirk.

“You like it?” Shawn whispers, his voice fucked and broken.

Was he loud while she was on him? She doesn’t know. She couldn’t hear anything over her own frantic thoughts, until he said her name. She’s not even sure he said it. Maybe she just watched his lips form around it and her vivid imagination did the rest.

“Yeah,” she coos, “It’s got me all shook up.”

Shawn snorts appreciatively and lets his hand wander up her back, under her hair to play with the clasp of her necklace.

Penny closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to keep thinking about it right now. About what it means, about what it could mean, about what it meant for the lovers for whom it was made 70 years ago. 

She lets him cradle her in his arms and tip her off him, rolling her onto her back. He ducks his face into her neck, fluttering kisses, a varying pattern of barely-there brushes and firm, wet smacks along her necklace, like he plans to kiss her once for each one of the 159 diamonds in the settings.

Penny relaxes into the bed, closing her eyes and massaging his scalp with both hands like she knows he likes. She’s got him purring like a kitten for her in under 20 seconds.

Through her welcome haze, she feels his hand trail up her arm, reaching for the strap of her dress, then the other. She wriggles free of the sticky, clingy material as he drags it off her, the clinking of the zipper teeth loud in a room only soundtracked by their breathing, which is picking up pace again. He kisses each of her puckered nipples through her satin slip, then pushes that away too, followed by her drenched panties.

He sits back on his knees to stare down at her. She can see his cock starting to twitch under the fabric again. She lifts her arms over her head and sighs loud.

Shawn shivers. He shakes his head and wets his lips to speak.

“Fuck Ava Gardner. Sinatra designed that necklace for you.”

Before he can see the shocked tears in her eyes, Shawn spreads her legs, ducks his head and buries his face between them.

+

Shawn is awoken in the afternoon the next day by his doorbell. He rolls out of bed and checks the app on his phone to peek at the doorbell camera. He quietly prays to whatever’s listening that it’s not a teenage girl. He doesn’t have the energy.

It appears to be a delivery. He pulls a shirt over his head and stumbles to the door, signing and accepting the padded envelope.

On a piece of off-white cardstock is a red lip print that makes his pulse pound in his ears. He dumps the envelope onto the coffee table. Only a thumbdrive falls out.

He races to his laptop, throwing himself onto the bed as it boots up. He tries to jam the thumbdrive in upside down, winces and flips it over.

The drive has encryption software installed and asks him to create a password. After a few flutters of his tired eyes and a heaved sigh, he types: Sinatra.

The folder opens to tiny thumbnails, about 30 of them, and Shawn’s chest shudders hard before he can even get a close look.

She’s bare except for the necklace. She’s perched at the end of her bed, lying on top of it, on her side, sitting up, standing by the window, facing him, turned away. He gets so overwhelmed by all the images he stops himself and focuses on the first one, lets himself digest it.

She’s sitting on the end of the bed (and his heart skips a beat just looking at it, knowing it’s where she puts herself to sleep at night) with her legs crossed delicately at the ankle like the first time he met her. Her posture is perfect and elegant but not at all forced -- it’s just how she sits. She has a hand lifted to her chest, acknowledging the necklace, and her face is turned, her eyes down. He stares at the photo for minutes on end and can’t remember why he ever regretted buying the necklace, not for a second.

----------

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[marvel-redemption-omega]

Of Outlaws and Family

Chapter Two: New Friends, New Family, Old Habits

A/N: Heeeeeey, so I think I’m gonna spam this story today since I have nothin else to do and I am too lazy to leave my barracks. I should be studyin buuuuuut whatever...

Warnings: Cursing, typical gang violence, death, dangers of horse riding

Please enjoy! Hearts and repubs are appreciated!

My work is not to be posted elsewhere; I will post it to my AO3 and dA if I so choose.

Word Count: 7962

Read from the beginning: https://marvel-redemption-omega.tumblr.com/post/620167374619951104/of-outlaws-and-family-chapter-one-new-beginnings

The sun is warm on their skin, filtering through the trees as they make headway to the camp. Arthur’s driving the wagon, answering the questions James has about being a cowboy, while Scarlet rides Shasta to their left; Fancy, Shamrock, and his horse -Smoke- following behind her. James climbs into the seat from the back and takes the reins when Arthur hands them over.

Scarlet clicks her tongue and squeezes her thighs, urging Shasta to speed up so she can scout ahead. She turns to her other horses and tells them, sternly, to “stay with James” before she and Shasta run ahead to make sure there’s no O’Driscoll ambushes. When she’s satisfied, and Shasta’s prancing anxiously to move again, she turns him back to meet up with Arthur and her son, the heat of the afternoon sun now hot on her back.

“Hyah!” She kicks Shasta and he throws his head, breaking into a dead run back the way they came. He skirts and prances up to Fancy on the left of the wagon as they slow up. “All clear for about a mile up the way. I can drive the wagon if you wanna ride,” she offers as she reins Shasta up beside the front of her cart.

“That’s fine, we’re almost there anyway,” Arthur shrugs and takes the reins back from James. She looks at her son and relaxes at his smile. It’s not something he usually does around strangers, let alone men. James whistles and Fancy slows from beside Scarlet and rounds the back of the wagon until she’s beside the front side. The mare nickers as she keeps pace with the wagon to stay near him. Shamrock and Smoke follow at the back of the wagon in calming comfort, ears forward at the sound of James’ whistle.

“If you say so,” she hums and pats Shasta’s neck, cooing to him about how he’s been doing so well today. He nods his head a few times and side steps several times.

“He a’ight?”

“Yeah, he just likes to run. Like I said before, I usually fight him to put him up. He’s a racer, that’s for sure. If you don’t mind watching James, I’ll take Shasta for a run to wear him out, that way he’ll be easier to deal with. Especially with a bunch of new horses and people,” she clicks her tongue and loosens her hold on the reins when Arthur nods. The buckskin jumps to the side and bucks for a moment before dashing down the not-as-worn-down path that runs parallel to the road the wagon’s on.

Scarlet gives her horse the reins as she adjusts herself in the saddle from his bucking. He snorts and tosses his head as he kicks up his speed, the dirt and sand flying from under his hooves with every impact.

They make it across the railroad tracks and near Valentine’s train station before she pulls up on his reins, giving the command for him to slow up. He resists at first but slowly comes down from his run to a gallop then to a trot and finally to a fast paced walk. She turns him in a few circles before leading him to the general store. She hitches him to the post, rubbing his neck and giving him a carrot from her bag before she goes inside. She takes the advantage to stock up on canned fruit and vegetables as well as get provisions for her horses.

As she saddles back up, a few men huddled just outside the saloon take interest in her. She ignores them until one shoots their pistol into the air. Shasta immediately throws his weight forward, bringing his rear legs up and kicking the guy behind them who fired the weapon. The others holler and yell as she tries to settle Shasta by spinning him in circles. The other four mount up and she lets her horse take charge, facing him towards the stables where his ears perk and he bolts into the plains.

She hears the shouts of the males behind her and she doesn’t need any more confirmation that they’re O’Driscolls. She’s seen enough of them to know who they run with by their clothes and what breed of horse they have. They all ride Morgans or Kentucky Saddlers, neither great for long distance endurance like her Thoroughbred, Standardbred, and Mustang. She knows she can easily outrun them, but she has a better idea.

Once they’re outside the town, she leads Shasta to the river on their right and dismounts, leading him to the trees where she leaves him to graze. Grabbing her pistols, bow, and one of her rifles, she heads for the rocks by the river for cover. She can hear the bickering and cursing of the group as they approach, the one having been kicked griping about his body aching. It’s not the first person Shasta’s kicked and Scarlet knows he won’t be the last. She’s grateful her horse is so fine tuned to instinct and took it upon himself to initiate the chase.

She isn’t left waiting for more than a minute or two before the gang members are jumping from their horses to search for her. She pulls one of her throwing knives from her belt and aims for the one left in the saddle, the one Shasta kicked. She smirks as the blade buries itself in his skull without a sound and he slumps forward then falls to the ground. The horse spooks at the sudden thud of his body on the earth and it causes the rest of their horses to run as well, leaving the men running back to see why their horses startled. Upon seeing their man down, they shout and curse her.

“Come on out! You’ve done it now!”

“Wait until Colm gets ahold of you!”

“Why don’t you just make this easy on us? Come on out.”

“Stop hiding! The longer you hide, the worse things are gonna end!”

Scarlet scoffs to herself and pulls her bow from her back and notches an arrow. She pulls back and aims at the closest one, his back to her. She lets it go, grinning as he drops with the arrow through his chest. She quickly and quietly moves from her spot and up the hill to get a better vantage point on the last three. They’re yelling and checking their fallen comrade to try and figure out where she shot from, eventually one venturing to where she had been behind the rocks.

“Two down, three to go. Let’s see if I can take out two of you in one,” she murmurs aloud to herself as she swaps her bow for her rifle. She opens the chamber and nods when she sees a round chambered. She shuts it and holds the gun up, looking through the scope, focusing on two of the O’Driscolls.

She waits until they move, and oh how sweet it is when all three of them line up almost perfectly! She aims for the middle of the first guy's chest and squeezes the trigger. A loud bang rings out as she does so, echoing in the distance. All three men glance down and then to where she stands from the treeline before their bodies fall to their knees then drop to the ground. She releases the shell casing and reloads the gun, slinging it onto her back and going over to them. She searches them and takes everything they have from gum to money, going to the other two to confirm they are dead before doing the same to them.

“Aha, look at that boy, their horses are just over there. What say you about takin them to the stables an sellin’em?” She asks as she stows her rifle and bow and climbs back into the saddle. He snorts and paws at the ground in response and she laughs, patting his neck. “Me too, Boy, me too. Let’s catch’em. Come on.”

She clicks her tongue and Shasta sets a slow pace toward the four horses grazing just a few yards away. She whistles and they all raise their heads, nickering softly before going back to the grass. Shasta neighs in what Scarlet assumes is a greeting and she slips from his back, speaking in hushed murmurs to the closest horse. He shuffles for a moment, looking from Shasta to Scarlet, before closing the gap and nudging the woman. She pets him for a minute, talking to him calmly, reassuring him that he’s alright, and pulls his reins over his head and ties them to her saddle horn. He pulls a bit but stays beside her horse as she moves to collect the other three.

Within five minutes she has them all tied by the reins and starts undoing their saddles, occasionally having to stop to soothe and calm them. She checks the saddlebags once all four saddles are off and climbs on Shasta’s back, leading them to the stables. Scarlet pulls back on the reins as they come up, urging her horse to the hitching post near the front. He stops by it and she praises him.

“Howdy, Sir. I have a couple horses I’m lookin to sell,” she greets the stable man. He tips his hat as she clambers down and unties the reins.

“Is one of them that Standardbred? He’s quite handsome. Looks fast too,” he muses, walking over to help her with the horses.

“Unfortunately, my Shasta isn’t for sale. He’s not one for the faint of heart. He’s too high spirited and rowdy for most. He needs a firm hand and someone to race him, so he’ll stay with me for a while yet,” she chuckles at the man, handing him two sets of reins. “Two Kentucky Saddlers, one black and one red roan. Two Morgans, one chestnut, one flaxen chestnut.”

“How friendly are these four? You didn’t steal them did you? I can’t have stolen horses bein sold here, it’s bad for business,” he asks as he leads the two horses inside. She follows close behind with the other two.

“If by stole you mean took from the group of bandits that tried kidnappin me? Yes. Fuckin’ O’Driscolls,” she grumbles, arms crossed as she watches the stable owner do a quick health check on them.

“Then that’s not really stolen is it? I think that counts as self defense,” the stable owner admits as he finishes up with the last horse. “Well, they’re all pretty healthy, though that chestnut has a swollen right front leg. She should be good as new in a few days. Aside from that, the most I could give for them is about two dollars each,” he explains. Scarlet mulls the price over for a moment before nodding.

“Alright, two each. Make sure someone who’ll take care of them gets those horses yeah? They deserve better than what they had, ride easy too and didn’t nip or buck when I went up to them,” she states as she turns towards the large barn doors, whistling for her own horse. The stable owner pulls the owed bills from his pocket and hands them to Scarlet. She pockets it with a nod and small smile. Shasta lowers his head to sniff at the few strands of hay by the doors and nickers before yanking his head and half rearing at her. “Ahh, he’s getting antsy again. Best be gettin ‘im home. Sir, thank you an you have a good evenin,” she thanks the man again and heads for the buckskin, clicking her tongue to calm him enough for her to get in the saddle again.

She makes it to the other side of Valentine before she has to stop Shasta. There’s a train at the station so she circles him to keep him calm while they wait, patting his neck and speaking to him. He snorts as the train pulls away and tries to pull on the reins to run, but Scarlet holds him back to a trot. He yanks on the reins again and she pulls back, forcing his head up and back to listen, making him stop.

“Hey, I said no. You need to calm down boy,” she warns him and loosens her hold on the reins so his head isn’t held back anymore. He snorts and paws the ground before moving at a trot as they cross the tracks He tries several more times to break into a run and on his fourth attempt being blocked, he starts bucking on the road.

Scarlet groans and tries to steer him out of the way as she sees two people riding up in the distance. She shifts her weight with Shasta, knowing he’s growing angry at not getting his way. He throws all his weight forward, slamming her into the horn and his neck before he rears, making her fall from his back. Once he feels her off his back, he bolts away from the incoming duo, who have sped up, and to the left. “Shasta!”

Her cry falls on deaf, pinned back ears as he disappears over the hills. She groans and picks herself up, stomping the ground and wiping the grass and dirt from herself. She’s swearing his name, curses strung together as they leave her lips almost like a prayer.

“What happened? Thought you knew how to ride?”

“Oh har har, you gonna laugh at me or help me get my horse back, Mr. Morgan?”

“I don’t know. That seemed pretty entertainin. What do you think, Charles? Should we help her?”

“Arthur.” The man named Charles sighs at the other man. Scarlet smiles at them and pulls an apple from her shoulder bag.

“Who’s a good boy, Smoke? You are. Huh? Yeah you are!” She coos as he happily accepts the apple. “Nice to meet you, Charles. Names Scarlet. Since James isn’t here I’m assuming you got to camp alright?” Charles smiles and nods his head.

“You too, Miss.”

“Yeah. He hitched your other horses, though we were worried ‘bout Shamrock for a minute there when he started rearin. Your son took mighty fine care of him though. He listened as soon as that boy spoke,” Arthur mused, eyes bright with mirth. Scarlet grinned.

“Ahh yeah. He’s still shy an skittish sometimes. I gotta break him of that. Charles, you mind if I give your horse an apple or carrot?”

“Not at all. Her name’s Taima.”

“Hey feller, you’re a good horse too huh? Yeah you are,” she pats his horse and offers the apple. Taima takes it and nickers happily, lightly nibbling her hand for traces of more until she pulls her hand away. “No more! That’s all silly girl.”

“Alright, enough bonding. We have a horse to catch. Come on, up ya get,” Arthur offers his hand and helps pull her up behind him. Smoke shifts at the unusual added weight before settling. Arthur turns with Charles, looking at the tracks.

“Looks like he went back this way over the tracks and that hill. With any luck he stopped there. Does he do this often?” Charles’ question is directed at Scarlet, but she’s busy readjusting from sitting side saddle to straddling the back of the saddle. They bring their horses to a gallop as they follow the fresh horse tracks pressed into the soft dirt.

“Kinda? He’s only fifteen but he acts like a three year old. If he don’t get his way he throws a tantrum, like the one y’all caught the end-a. Normally I ain't thrown. He threw me forward into the horn an his neck though an when it knocked the breath outta me he took the opportunity to rear an toss me,” she explains as she wraps her arms around Arthur’s waist. “Normally we just end up on a long run until he’s tired himself out. Then I make him at least trot home.”

“Did he have a previous owner?”

Scarlet sighs and recounts the story of her ownership of all three horses again to Charles as they make their way up the hill. She scans the ground, trying to see the tracks the men are looking at, but something shiny catches her eye.

“Hey, wait. What’s that?” She points to the left, by a cluster of small bushes. The silver metal reflects off the evening sun as the trio ride over to it. Scarlet slips from Smoke and picks up the item, cursing as she recognizes it. “He’s lost a shoe.” She stuffs the metal shoe into her pouch and clambers onto Smoke again, with Arthur’s help. They continue following the tracks, halfway to Emerald Ranch when Charles stops them, pulling out his binoculars.

“I think I’ve found him. Take a look,” Charles passes his binoculars to Scarlet as Arthur pulls his own out to look where his friend points. “Down in the dried river bed, rolling.”

Sure enough, Shasta is attempting to get his saddle off by rolling on it. There’s a small herd of about four horses that are watching him. They nicker and neigh, a couple rearing and kicking their front legs as they watch.

“What a wretch. Stupid boy,” Scarlet muttered as she hands the binoculars back. “Thank you, both of you.”

“Come on. Let’s go get your horse. Before he hurts himself,” Arthur chuckles and puts his binoculars away. They slowly make their way down the other side of the hill, towards the river bed where Shasta is struggling. The herd spooks as they draw near and piques Shasta’s interest. He scrambles to his feet, immediately propping his front right one like it hurts.

“Easy boy,” Charles calls out. Shasta’s ears are forward, listening to them. Scarlet slowly slips off Smoke and holds her hands up in front of her. When Shasta sees her, he pins his ears and snorts, letting out a mad nicker. She shushes him and reaches into her bag, pulling out something.

“Loose something, Boy? Lemme take a look at that foot’a yers,” she lets him see the metal shoe and he hangs his head in defeat, limping towards her. Arthur hops off Smoke as well, letting him graze while he helps Scarlet with her runaway. It takes a lot of coaxing but they eventually get Shasta to raise his hoof. Scarlet sighs at the sight. There’s dirt and mud and what looks like dried blood caked on the bottom.

“Come on. Let’s get him to the stables. They can put his shoe back on and probably get that foot taken care of,” Charles suggests. He tosses his lasso over Shasta’s neck as does Arthur, causing him to whinny and try to rear. Scarlet quickly grabs his halter and holds his face down, looking him in the eye as she soothes him.

“Come on, Big Dummy. We’re getting you someone to help,” she explains as she unties his reins, giving one to Charles and one to Arthur for them to tie to their horns so he can walk between them. Just added security for her if h somehow manages to break free of the lariats.

“Lucky you we came along when we did,” Arthur teases, lifting her onto the back of his horse. She smiles at him and thanks them again.

“Why’d y’all come lookin for me anyway?”

“Well, James said usually when Shasta acts up you can go for a run an be back within an hour or two. But when we got to camp an we got the horses hitched, fed, an watered, well James said you shoulda been on your way back. I knew you wouldn’t know where we were so I told Dutch I was comin to look for you. Asked Charles here to ride with me since he’s better at trackin than I am,” he explains, a hint of sheepishness in his voice as he compliments Charles. She grins and wraps her arms around him again as they turn back towards Valentine.

“Yeah. Usually, Dumbass here thinks he owns the world sometimes. I bet he’s feeling pretty low right now, ain’tcha Shas?” He huffs in reply and follows behind the trio. “I ran into some more O’Driscolls. I was comin outta the store an one of them tried callin me butI ignored them. Then he fired his gun in the air; Shasta spooked an kicked the shit out of him, which of course led to a chase,” she sighes and recalls her encounter with gang members. Charles shakes his head and Arthur tightens his hold on the reins. She reaches forward and rests her hand on his, chin resting on his arm as she looks up at him. “Hey, it’s okay. I should’ve had more control over him an not let him kick. But what’s done is done. I’m fine an the only injury is this Dummy. An it’s not too serious.”

“She’s right, Arthur. No need to dwell on the past,” Charles reasons. Arthur nods and relaxes a bit, which Scarlet is thankful for. She straightens as they cross the tracks and into Valentine. Shasta snorts as they near the stable.

“Here, I’ll walk him from here. It shouldn’t be too hard on him,” she suggests as they pull up by the individual corrals for horses. Arthur helps her down and he and Charles untie the reins and remove their lassos from Shasta as she reties his reins together. She leads him into the stable and greets the stable man again.

“Back so soon?”

“Yeah. This boy hurt himself. Lost a shoe and I think probably cut the underside of his hoof,” she pulls out the missing shoe and hands it over.

“Which one?”

“Front right. Shasta, here boy, lemme see your hoof,” she commands and grabs at the back of his knee, making him lift his leg slightly. She grabs it before he can drop it and he grunts in slight irritation at her touching his foot, but he allows it. “See?”

“Ahh yes. I can keep him stabled here and get all his hooves cleaned and re-shoe him in the morning. How’s four dollars sound?”

“Like you’re trying to rob me, Old Man,” she jokes and pulls out the money after letting Shasta put his foot down and rubbing his leg of any stiffness. “Good boy, Shas. Be a good boy for this nice man too, okay? I’ll get you in the morning,” she scratches his neck and places a kiss to his forehead. He whinnies, much like a whine, as she walks away from his stall. She turns and waves to him, thanking the owner again as she leaves.

“He all set?”

“Yeah. I can come get him in the mornin. I’m worried he’ll kick when he’s gettin shod, so I’ll probably be here for that. I can bring Shamrock,” she thinks aloud and puts a hand on Smoke’s rear. “Let’s get going. I’d like to see my boy again please.” She hauls herself behind Arthur and Charles chuckles at them as they ride out of Valentine and to their camp in the woods.

Scarlet memorizes the path as best she can as they make their way at a gallop. She’s got a tightened grip on Arthur as she tries to look around and get her bearings. Charles slows a little, causing Smoke too as well, and drops back to speak with her.

“How long have you and your boy been on your own? Where’s his father?” He asks, one arm hanging loose at his side, the other holding the reins comfortably on the horn. She visibly tenses and turns a bit to face him, taking a deep breath.

“Technically? Since he was born. His father’s around, but we’re not together. It uh, well, it wasn’t expected and his family don’t like my kind. His father’s from way out west, they say from the islands. Some of his family are more tan, but he looks bout as pale as I do. Though I also look like I’m from Ireland and I’m not, grandparents on my Ma’s side were. Least my grandpa was,” she shrugs. “James knows of his father and I allow them time together, but it’s away from his family. If they knew he had a son with someone not native of the islands they hail from, well, let’s just say it’s about as bad as it is for anyone else in interracial relationships,” she sighs. Charles reaches over the small distance between horses and pats her shoulder.

“I understand better than you think. My father was a colored man, mother an Indian. The hate I got from that, well, I understand well enough,” he admits. Scarlet’s shoulders relax at his admission and she thanks him for sharing, resting a hand over his before he pulls away to avoid another rider.

“I’m sorry. People can be cruel and outright vicious for no reason. I hope James learns a thing or two from you,” she hopes and gives him a smile.

“Are you two done yet? We’re almost there. I’m sure Dutch will want to talk to you once you’re settled. We have rules here, you know the majority of them, but the most important is you don’t talk,” Arthur interjects. Scarlet hums behind him, nodding as she listens. “By that, I mean if you get caught you don’t know where camp is. You don’t know where Dutch is, you don’t know where nobody is. Loyalty is-”

“Loyalty is hard to come by and it’s one of few things that will keep me alive,” Scarlet cuts him off. It’s not exactly what Arthur was going to say, but it’s close enough. “Don’t worry. If it means havin my son protected, I’ll endure pain to high hell an back.”

“Right, well, good then. When you ride into camp, one of our guys will ask who it is to make sure it’s one of us, not someone like a bounty hunter. Just call out your name and they should let you in no trouble, if not, well, just holler for me and I’ll come escort you in,” Arthur offers.

“Same for me. Bill and Micah sometimes have a hard time trusting new people,” Charles states as they cut off the path and under two fallen trees making an X.

“Who goes there?”

“It’s just me and Charles, Lenny!”

“Oh, hey, Arthur! Who’s that?” Lenny asks as they approach the smaller boy. Scarlet smiles and nods to him.

“Scarlet O’Hara. Arthur here brought my boy and my wagon earlier?” She supplies as they slow to a walk to talk with him.

“Oh yeah! James is gettin along just fine. He was playin dominoes with Tilly just a bit ago. I don’t think he’s met Jack yet,” Lenny tells them as he waves to Charles and steps to the side so he’s not as noticeable in the path. “Y’all take care.”

“I like him. He’s a sweet boy,” she muses as Arthur leads his horse to the hitching post and climbs down. He offers his hand to her and helps her down as well.

“Yep. Lenny’s young, but he knows how to fight, he leads her to her horses, both lifting their heads and whinnying loudly as she approaches.

“Hey there my loves, y’all doin a’right?” She greets and rubs each of their noses and foreheads. They nuzzle her and Fancy nips at her bag while Shamrock nips at her hair. “Alright, okay, enough,” she pushes on their noses and they back off, heads bouncing a little. “Good boy, good girl. Y’all behave yourselves now ya hear?” She leaves them and follows Arthur to his wagon before he turns and points to the right of his.

“I set you up right here next to me. This way if you need anything you can come to me. Dutch is here on my left. We have a ledger and money box, pretty much somethin for us to give back to the group, yanno? So if you have any nice pelts or money or whatever you can contribute, just put it in the money box. It helps us upgrade not only our supplies but our wagons an livin too,” he shows her his wagon and hers before taking her to Dutch’s tent. “Dutch?”

“Ah, Arthur my boy, you brought her. Good good. Look, I have something for you two to do. I need two capable people to go after this lead. Now, normally I wouldn’t let someone new go, but Ms. O’Hara isn’t like the others we’ve had to teach, from what we’ve seen, so take her with you. There’s word of some good horses being found but unable to be broken, up past Valentine near the mountains. Some town folk mentioned they trapped them in a high fenced corral so they can’t jump out. Now, the rancher who found them and got the help to herd them into the corral is offering a decent price to break them, or at least one of them. I told the man that I’d have one of my men meet him tomorrow at the saloon. Just go early and tell him Uncle Tacitus sent you. I promise you won’t miss him. Scarlet, it’s good to have you with us. James was running around earlier after he got your horses settled. He’s taken a real liking to all the horses, and they him. Does he ride?”

“Dutch Van der Linde, you are not teaching my boy to be a gunslinger,” her tone is playfully scolding. “ Yes, he knows how to ride, but I only allow him to ride Fancy because she won’t spook or go too fast with him. He can hunt too, so I’m fine with him going hunting. So long as it’s with myself, Arthur, or Charles,” she reasons, chin out and tilted up a little in defying challenge. Dutch holds up his hands and laughs at her, nodding.

“Yes, Ma’am. Hunting only,” he accepts as he sits down in the chair near the opening. “I was asking if he rode because I’d like someone to be able to help Jack learn, if his mother doesn’t mind,” he clarifies as he looks up at them, elbows resting on his knees. Scarlet nods and crosses her arms.

“I can ask. Who’s Jack’s parents?”

“Abigail and John. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone. Dutch, we’ll meet that guy tomorrow, if you’re sure,” Arthur begrudgingly agrees. Dutch nods and grabs a cigar from the small table beside him. Arthur gestures for Scarlet to follow him as he heads toward the small group gathering around the fire.

“Uncle Arthur! Uncle Arthur! I made a new friend! His name is James!” A little boy runs up to Arthur, bouncing on his toes as he glances over his shoulder at James. Arthur smiles and kneels.

“Is that right?”

Scarlet smiles at her son and crouches down to be eye level with Jack too. “Hello, hun. James is my son, he’s being nice right?”

“Oh yes ma’am! He let me pet the new horses that came in! He said they were friendly and he let me give them half a carrot each!” The little boy exclaims as he looks at her. “James is my new friend.” He repeats. She giggles at him and nods, glancing up at James who walks over.

“Did he now? Did he show you the right way to offer treats so they don’t accidentally bite you?” She coos to the young boy, hand out for James, who takes it and gives her a hug.

“Yes he did. He said my palm needed to be flat so they didn’t think any of my fingers were part of the carrot. He told me their names and said to pet their necks,” the boy rambles animatedly, gesturing with his hands.

“Yep, that’s with all horses. You don’t want to lose any fingers cause they didn’t know it wasn’t part of their treat,” she explains and gets back to her feet, ruffling James’ hair and kissing his head. “You’re Jack, right?”

“That’s right! My Ma and Pa are over here,” he turns and points to the campfire where everyone is sitting or lounging, eating bowls of stew.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you Jack. I’m Miss Scarlet,” she states as the boy takes James’ hand and starts to pull him along. James shoots both adults a pleading look for help that they laugh at. Jack waves bye as he smiles brightly once the two children reach the group.

“Well, he’s sure cheerful for an only kid,” she laughs lightly as Arthur gets back on his feet. He agrees and they continue their small trek until Arthur grabs a bowl and fills it for her.

“Here. It’s not much, but Mr. Pearson’s an okay cook,” he offers her the bowl and sits by Charles with his own.

“Thanks, there’s so many interesting characters here. I’ve never known a group to be so...diverse,” she stumbles to find the right words for a moment.

“They’re family. It’d be weird to think of them as anything but,” Arthur acknowledges and tips his hat to Lenny, who he beckons over. “You’ve already met Lenny boy here. He’s one of the younger ones but he’s right good with a gun and I trust him wholly. Charles here hasn’t been running with us but a few months. Miss Grimshaw has been with Dutch almost for quite some time.  I’ve been here since I was a boy. We just recently picked up Mrs. Adler this spring.

“We lost a lot of people coming from Blackwater. Some to the cold, harsh winter. Others from some from wounds received for runnin with us. Davey and little Jenny we just lost this winter,” he explains and points out those he names.

“Javier has been with us for a while too, Hosea and Dutch are like the leaders here. They’re a great team, both like fathers to me. This gang started as us three, then we grew. John’s been with us since he was a boy too, we found him like Dutch and Hosea had me. Poor bastard can’t swim. Then along came Abigail an well, shortly thereafter those two gettin together we had Jack. He’s about four or five now if I remember right. Mr. Pearson’s been here since I can remember.

“Strauss is here occasionally. When he’s not out loaning money to folks. Then I go play big bad cowboy to get the money owed. Uncle’s been here for quite some time too. He’s a lazy piece of shit but he will put in work, at least for Dutch. Bill, well, Bill’s somethin else. He’s ready to jump when Dutch says and I’m afraid that might get him killed one day. Then there’s Micah,” the way his voice changes makes Scarlet quirk a brow. There’s a story there and she’s not sure she wants to hear it. She makes a mental note to ask about his disdain of Micah later. She knows why she doesn’t like him, but she wants to hear his reasons for the obvious dislike of the group number.

“I met him. Bill too I think. They were the goons who barged into my house that I hogtied, weren’t they?” She asks, turning slightly in her seat to face him. Arthur pauses mid bite, spoon halfway to his mouth. He lets the spoonful back into the bowl and lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah. You’re right. Dutch did send those two idiots to ‘help’ you. You handled them really well too. I wish you coulda seen it, Charles. She had them both hogtied on her floor. Did James help you?”

“No. I had him tossin some logs in the pit we had so we could burn the O’Driscoll corpses. Usually the horses run off and those that don’t I take to the nearest stable or fence to sell them. You learn a lot by being on your own.” She smiles and goes back to her soup, listening to the rest of the story about the remaining group.

“Sean, poor boy, was caught in Blackwater. I’m not sure if he survived or not. I hope so. He’s a good lad, Irish feller. Cocky bastard an stronger accent,” Arthur chuckles. “Reverend Swanson, he’s, well you’ll see. Then there’s Miss O’Shea. Molly. She’s, uhh, well she’s Dutch’s girl I guess? I don’t rightly know their situation. Just that he’s sweet on her, or used to be. Karen and Mary-Beth were some good girls we helped out, kinda like you. All our women are rowdy spitfires, honestly. Most won't take no for an answer. Tilly there, we helped her out too. Some fools were tryin to say they owned her because she owed them somethin or other. So we fought an brought Tilly with us. She’s a smart girl, loves dominoes too. She’s good at it.

“I believe that’s just about everyone but you and James. And the horses of course, but if you really want to know about them you’re better off asking the owner of each. I can tell you about Taima, Smoke, Old Boy, Silver Dollar, and The Count, Dutch’s horse, but that’s about it. The ones without saddles are the ones we have pullin our wagons.”

“Now that you know a bit about us, why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?” Charles asks, bowl off to the side. Scarlet nods and takes another bite as she thinks over what she can tell them; what she feels comfortable with letting them know.

“Well, I have an eight year old son, James. I have three horses: Fancy, her son Shamrock, and the hard headed Shasta who’s gotta get his shoe fixed at the stable in Valentine. I am in touch with James’ father via letters but we are not together. Not really. I know it’s not normal but it’s somethin that I don’t wanna press on. We can’t be together and I’m content with him just bein a father to James, honestly. I’ve been on my own with him since he was a newborn; I don’t need anyone to help with him. He listens right for the most part.

“His father’s from the islands, by Cuba I think he said. Least that’s his heritage. I come from a nice southern home where my parents taught me to read and write, figuring I’d be the least problematic of the four. I grew tired of the constant raiders preachin bout needin to rise again an takin out yankees. The whole war never really sat well with me; makes me ashamed to say I called the south home for so long.

I haven’t seen my brothers in years, since before James was born, and haven’t heard a lick of’em either. My little sister is doing well I hear though, she’s got a nice ranch back home. I guess my parents are stayin with her now an she’s got a good man with her. As for me, I moved around a lot. I don’t much like a lot of people knowing my business. So when people start comin snoopin, I pack up an leave. Like we did today. Set the house on fire and leave when it’s dark.

“James came along after I met up with his father, a good friend of mine for years, to catch up. We hung out for the week he was in town, him staying at my place. We uh, well let’s just say neither of us expected him. We were drunk and we talked about our options once we found out. He said he was thrilled at the idea of being a father, despite his family’s anger if they ever were to find out. They didn’t ever like me hangin round him much, but that’s because I’m not an islander like them. He’s a decent father, sends money to help with clothes, asks when an where we can meet him so he can spend some time with James. Sometimes it’s annoyin we still gotta sneak around his parents, but I understand. They’d disown him an he’d be cast out. It’s a cruel, backwards way-a  thinkin but it is what it is.

“There’s not much else too me. I never wanted to run with a gang but things change. The O’Driscolls raided my neighbors one night and they tried to raid my house the next night. I had a dog at the time, so they didn’t get far. James weren’t but maybe a year old at the time. Bless that baby, he was asleep when they came. Colm fucking O’Driscoll just pushed his way passed his men, a few dead on my floor, said I could an would join him, warm his bed for awhile, an be part of his gang or face the consequences of tellin him no. I told him to eat shit an my dog came from the bedroom, snarlin and barkin at them. Colm shot him, right between the eyes, but not before Teague bit his thigh. His men had to help him onto his horse after that. He’d cursed my name an threatened they’d be back. So I made a makeshift carrier for James, saddled up Fancy an Shasta with anythin that would fit in the side bags, then loaded my bed, food, clothes, an necessities into the wagon Shamrock was hooked up to an left.

“They came back to a burned down house. I only know because a friend of mine said he was riding by the next mornin to check on me since he read about my neighbors in the newspaper an saw them searchin through the smolderin remains. He had taken me in when I had no where else to go. My parents place was too far an I couldn’t go see James’ father. Not with a baby. They’d talk. So I stayed low for a while, my horses locked in the barn with the wagon containin all my belongings at my friend’s. Then, when we were sure they weren’t actively lookin for me, we left an my friend helped set me up in a new place. A nice little ranch where I worked as a milkmaid. It wasn’t too bad. The rancher’s wife was more than happy to have another baby around as all her children were grown.

“She arranged for me to work five days with two off so I could spend that time with my son. When they found out I could ride an shoot, they asked if I could help do night security instead of full milk maid. Of course I took that offer. I’d rather be in a saddle than milking cows all day. I’d watch for wolves, coyotes, foxes an the like. Any raiders were shot too. My friend, bless him, brought Fancy to me because he knew she was the best around guns an new things. Shamrock and Shasta were, and are still, learnin.

“As soon as they saw how great of a pair we were, well, they asked if I’d been a gunslinger before. I answered honestly with no. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t taught how to act like one. My father was one, which I guess is one reason why my mom an him split. But then she found a nice man who took my older brother an myself in; helped my Ma raise us two. Then along came my little siblings an that’s it. Not too much interestin bout me,” she takes a breath before going back to her stew. By now, several of the others have gathered around them to hear about the new woman. Karen, Mary-Beth, Sadie, Abigail, Molly, an Susan circle on one side of the table to listen. James and Jack sat between her and Arthur, James closer to Scarlet and Jack closer to Arthur. Lenny makes a noise between a scoff and a chuckle.

“Sorry. I’m not laughin at’cha. I just find it funny that Colm got burnt by you is all. He’s not known to back down like that. From all I’ve heard he’s take what he wants, shoots, then maybe asks questions,” he explains as Scarlet nods along. She pushes her empty bowl away and taps James’, a silent request for him to finish his. He sighs but murmurs a “Yes, Ma” before he continues to work on his meal.

“Wouldn’t’ve thought you were. I’m not what most people expect. I’ve always had a wild streak, my Ma said on a number of occasions that it probably wasn't wise to have taught me to read and write because of it. Said if I didn’t learn to watch my mouth and self that I’d end up on the wrong side of a gang. Guess she was right,” she shrugs and wraps an arm around her son’s shoulders. “He’s my life though. And gang or not I’d kill every other damn gang alive if it meant keepin him safe.”

“Come on, everyone has their own tasks in the morning!” Dutch claps his hands, having been standing at the end of the table closest to Scarlet along with Micah and John. She startles slightly at his outburst, not expecting him beside her. “You can all talk to Miss O’Hara more later. She’ll be joining the group,” he addresses them. They disperse at his look, ‘goodnight’s  and ‘see you in the morning’s being passed about them.

“Come now, Jack. Time to wash up and get ready for bed,” Abigail urges her son. He pouts but says goodnight to James who gives him a wave and turns in his seat, stew gone. He gives Scarlet a questioning look to which she gestures to their wagon. He excuses himself and disappears in the back of the wagon.

“Sorry about them. Sometimes they get carried away with questions and other’s personal lives,” Dutch apologizes on behalf of his family and friends. Scarlet smiles and gives him a shrug as she pushes up from the table.

“They’re not bad, weren’t hurtin no one. I won’t give James’ father the location here. Usually we go to him, meet him in a town or his place. Less worry for you an less work for me. It’s easier that way.”

“I’m not worried about you. I’m sure you have grasped a good understandin of what is expected and required of you here.”

“Of course. I do hope you don’t expect me to stay though. I can’t just not work. I can take on bounties and other jobs to help out,” she tells him as she steps away. “But, Mr. Morgan and I have a job to do bright and early. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Dutch nods as she slips by him to help James pull their sleeping bags and pillows from the back of the wagon.

“She’s something else,” Arthur shakes his head as he collects the bowls and takes them to Pearson’s wagon to be washed later. He heads to his wagon to get some sleep too.

“That’s for sure. You sure bout her, Dutch? I don’t like her joinin us.”

“What’s wrong, Micah? Still grumpy she hogtied you and Bill?” John teases as the trio walk to Dutch’s tent. Dutch smiles at their banter.

“You hush your mouth, cowpoke, before I mess up the other side of your face,” Micah threatens and reaches for his knife.

“Enough, Micah. John, you too. Knock it off. She’d have had you hogtied too,” Dutch warns, stopping their quarrel. “I think having her is a good thing. I think she’ll help us bring in the money we need to go somewhere we aren’t wanted. Don’t doubt me, Micah. She’s good for us,” he reassures his men. “Now go get some rest. We all have important things to do tomorrow. Micah, don’t forget you’re taking Lenny out scouting past Valentine.”

[benmyjet]

Rewind (Lucy Boynton x Reader Fic)

Pairing: Lucy Boynton x Reader (modern university time frame)

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Despite your pre-existing judgement, you find yourself being pulled towards your new neighbor.

AN: Hi!! This is my first fic ever and I plan for it to be a multi-chapter one! This first part is just more of an expose of reader and lucy’s relationship, you’ll see more of their dynamic (and angst 😈) in the next chapter 🥂I’m baby and a beginner so please let me know your thoughts and ways to improve!

~~~~*~~~~

Coming back home from the first year of uni was like entering the real world after 12 years of solitary confinement. Fresh food from a stove rather than a water heated metal dish. A plush queen bed with natural daylight from your room to prick your eyelids rather than the squeaky twin size mattress that you find yourself waking on top of after the boys down the hall set off the smoke alarms for vaping. Again… 

Perhaps the only con to coming back home was all the old retired foggies that surround you. It was refreshing but lonesome after living among the hoards of young adults that don’t know what to do with their lives. Not to mind though, it was sound sleeping for you without any loud music.

“Y/N!” Your mother calls from downstairs.

“Y/N!”

With the exception of your mother.

You roll off your bed. Glancing in the glass reflection of a picture frame, you don’t look too hot. Your skin greasy from sleep and the acne creams that you applied the night before. 

“What mum?” You drawled as you plopped down the stairs, sitting on the last step

“Look! The new family who bought the house is moving in. They hauled three bookcases out the truck already.” 

Out of the passenger side of the truck popped out a girl with mid length brownish hair. Her frame quickly ducking out of view so she could enter the house.

Your mother continues“She seems like your age, you think she’s from your university?” 

You peer again trying to get a glimpse. Her hair now tied sloppily in a bun as she picks up one of the boxes. You peer down to see an all girls college shirt covering her whole frame. Mary Scott University.

It may have been just your own prejudice or your jealousy of someone so effortlessly beautiful but you didn’t see any hope in the new girl on the street. 

“Jesus Christ” you glance at your mom

“What?”

“She goes to that all girls school—“

“It’s not a bad school Y/N, your dad’s cousin went there-“

“And look where she ended up! She dropped out of dentistry school and is making jewelry for a living!”

“Y/N, don’t judge people so quickly, how do you even make friends in school?”

Annoyed, you bulged your eyes out. In a normal school not an all girls school where they wait til marriage for someone to sexually awaken them.. you thought.

You take one last look at the new movers and retreat to your bedroom. Under the covers you can only find yourself thinking about the new girl.

~~~~*~~~~

The next day your mom calls you down again with more gusto and a sweeter tone.

Interesting… Only until you can hear an unfamiliar voice downstairs you assume there could be some visitors. 

“Yeah, hold on!” You yell out as you try to fix your appearance. You tie your hair up and pull down your night shorts from under your large shirt.

You walk across the catwalk to see below your mom talking to the new girl on the front porch.

She was dressed in a racer back tank top and athletic shorts with a tennis racket bag strapped to one shoulder.

Shit shit shit shit shit!

Your first impression isn’t gonna be strong or even on the same level of confidence that she exudes. Her sweet smile shows off her pristine white teeth. Damn, when was the last time you did a whitening strip?

Her gaze finds yours and you start to feel your hands clam up a little.

Her bright eyes beam and cheeks lift up . “Hi! I’m Lucy!” she says with a small wave 

Your lingering gaze on the way her top hugs her waist is cut short from your mother.

“Y/N, could you walk Lucy to the tennis courts?“

The tennis courts were the first thing that anyone could see when they entered the neighborhood. Right next to the clubhouse and playground adjoined to it. Not too hard to find. But with your mother’s hard smile and urging eyes, you can tell she wanted to make a good impression.

“Uh yeah! Sure let me just-”

“Please don’t go out wearing that.”

“I know ma- I’m gonna go change-”

“Wear something nice—”

“I got it!”

As you see Lucy smile a little bit, you give a flash a teeth before you dash up the stairs in a frenzy to find anything cute. A whole tennis outfit at noon, God she really is Mary Scott material... You suffice for a college T and jean shorts as everything else was either sweaty and stained. You pick off the toothpaste stain on your shirt the best you can before you run downstairs , hearing your mom drawl how you’re not as active as you were before.

“Okay mom you can stop talking about how I’m a glob of fat now.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow at the toothpaste stain and as she raises her hands to examine it you swat it away

You glance at Lucy and give her a big grin “Okay, let’s go!”

~~~~*~~~~

As you both walk out of your front yard to the trail to the recreation area you turn to Lucy.

“So it’s Lucy? Right?”

She grins, “Yeah, and is it Y/N? Am I saying that right?”

“Yeah! You’re good.”

She cocks her head to your shirt. You suddenly feel more aware of the toothpaste stain. 

“So.. you go to Baker’s?

“Yeah! Are you in uni yet?”

“Yeah, I go to Mary Scotts.”

“Kind far from here isn’t it?”

“We used to live a bit further, like 5 hours away so I’m happy for some closer storage for all my college shit.”

Thank fucking god! You curse! I don’t have to watch my tongue.

You and Lucy continue to cycle about and discuss normal college student ice breakers. Despite what you thought, all girls college doesn’t seem that bad, There’s a mix of students in Mary Scott’s area with the other universities nearby. 

“So what’s fun around here?” Lucy asks “Besides the elusive tennis courts you’re taking me to.”

You begin to say something but close your mouth and furrow your brows in deep thought. Lucy chuckles as you draw your mouth in a thin line.

“Honestly… I can’t really say. Most of the neighborhood is just older people, but even when I had friends around we just drove around spending money on food. Was it the same where you used to live?”

“ Not really. We lived more out of the suburbs and I had a few friends around. We mostly just sat around my attic and gossiped”

“Gossiping is the universal binding for all teenagers with nothing to do”

Lucy gave a small chuckle to that and you both fell into silence. You start to overthink what you just said. 

Does she think I’m some vapid image obsessed person? Does she think I’m boring? Ffffuckkk Y/N why do you have to be so weird- Your thinking is interrupted as you reach the courts and Lucy turns to you

“Do you.. uhm do you wanna play with me? I was just planning to practice against the wall but I brought my other racket. Not that this was my plan all along ! But that I sometimes bring two just to kinda feel it out until I’m in a groove or whatever…”

Ahh so she’s nervous too. 

“Nah I understand and yeah! But just to warn you I have ZERO hand-eye coordination.”

Lucy smiles and pulls off a corded hair tie from her wrist and hands it to you, “Do you wanna tie up your hair?” 

You smile and nod and flip your head upside down to gather your strands together between the cords. 

After 10 minutes of playing tennis, only one round ending in a very successful back and forth, you both sat down on the court together rolling the ball back and forth with your rackets. 

 Lucy laughed at your jokes and you laughed at hers. With each time you mention the becomings of an inside joke you see her eyes crinkle and a full toothed smile emerge from her face. 

“Have you moved in completely?”, you ask.

“No, not really, like I still have my clothes to fold and books to organiz-”

“ ...and you came out here to play tennis?”

She rolled her eyes and grinned “ I have all summer to move in” 

“ and then move back in for university” you pause for a moment “Do you need any help? I’m very experienced with placing books upright and folding fabric into 4 sided shapes”

Lucy turns and lifts her brows, “ I don’t know in my house we can only fold our linens into 7 sided heptagons… but I suppose we can use your lifting for the piles of books we have”

She glances at your arms.

“Put those arms to work”

You scrunch your face together and glance between her and your arms. 

“Okay! I get it! So you have all summer to move in and I have all summer to build up my guns.”

Lucy face turns to worry “Oh no! I didn’t mean it like that, you have nice arms Y/N that’s what I am trying to say”

“Aw, well these babies only come out when I’m picking up like Cheerios from my floor. And after failing to hit your throws for like 2 hours.”

“Yeah you really weren’t lying about coordination”

“Hey! I can do other things”

“Elaborate?” 

You begin to speak with confidence but it falters as you can’t seem to find anything worth bragging about. Until...

“You know what, I’ll show you, whenever you want at your house”

“Okay,” Lucy pauses “are you doing anything tomorrow”

“Might be busy with another girl from Mary Scott university beating my ass in tennis but I’ll push her aside just for you” 

Lucy scoffs “ Okay, so maybe 12?”

“That’s when I wake up”

“1?”

“You know let me just give you my number and you give me a wake up call.”

“God, you are true Baker’s material.”

 Seeing as the sky was turning pink, you and Lucy returned to your street, earning a few bug bites on the way back.

“Welp, it was nice to meet you Lucy, I’ll see you later”

You reach your arm out for a hand shake.

But Lucy’s arm invited you into a small hug, a distance between both your chests. You were a little stunned, but wrapped your arms around her anyways. Lucy parted first, with a “Bye Y/N” and a small smile. You couldn’t quite place the small jump in your stomach when she said your name. Turning around you walked back into your house, hoping she’ll remember to call you tomorrow.

~~~~*~~~~

AN: ty for reading and let me know your thoughts! I’ll be posting the next part in two days!

[jj-lynn21]

The Charity- various fandoms & x-reader ch 8

Warnings: mystery, angst, dash of smut, The end

ch 1

ch 2

ch 3

ch 4

ch 5

ch 6

ch 7

 kit-ala-kat  super-pink-a-palouza 

Catching your breath, you look to Scarlett. She looks to you and smiles. You point to the watchers at the door.

Scarlett say, “I know baby girl. Your man looks like he is upset. We should get them over here to comfort them”

You both sit up sheet snug around your breasts under you arms. As you extend your hand you do notice Bills eyes are red like he has been crying.

You say, “Come here baby boy. Join me for some comfort and tell me why those beautiful green eyes look so sad.”

All Scarlett needs do is extend a hand and Colin is stripping off his cloths to join her. Its pretty funny how quickly he is trying to get things off to go to her tripping over his own shoe he threw in front of him and lands on his knees practically crawling to her on his hand and knees.

Bill is slower as he places his shoes by the wall and tosses his cloths on a near by chair. He goes to you taking your hand as he slides between the sheets. His eyes are watery with tears as he looks at you.

You say, “What’s wrong sweet boy? You still couldn’t find the others?”

Bill says, “More than that Princess. Gustaf and I only found Colin, my Dad and Valter. They are sticking together downstairs. I, we were coming to get the two of you to join who is left of our friends and family. Princess, Alex is gone. My Dad is drinking himself into oblivion over it. My brothers are practically in mourning. You don’t think, I mean we will find them, won’t we?”

Running your hand over his cheek through his hair you say, “Sure let’s go find them all right now.”

You and Bill get up. Seeing as Scarlett and Collin seem to be starting something you don’t want to stop you say nothing as you go see if your dress is wearable. Bill grabs his cloths following you into the bathroom like a puppy. You get your bra and panties on. Then you hold up your dress crinkling your face in disgust.

Handing you the t-shirt he had on under his dress shirt he says, “It got a little sweaty but its cleaner than your dress. Plus, I think it will be long enough on you to be a short dress.”

When you put it on it comes right below your ass cheeks. A bit shorter than most dresses you have worn, but it will do even though your panties and matching bra show under the white material.

Bill says, “Yeah, that looks perfect on you.”

Trying to pull it down a little more you say, “It’s a little short. But I guess it will do.”

He gets dressed and you both head out. You plan on saying something to Scarlett and Collin before leave to go downstairs, but the room is empty. The sheet is gone off the bed, so you and Bill walk out to the balcony to see if they went out there for some air. There is no sign of them. You and Bill look at each other freaked out.

Together you say, “What the fuck?”

Panicky Bill says, “Fuck, the rest of my family.”

He starts to run downstairs. You run after him barely keeping up. As you get to the bar Bill stands there devastated not to see Stellan, Gustaf or Valter.

Screaming Bill says, “This is fucking ridiculous. What the fuck is this place? I’m going to kill the fucker that took my family. You know I’m going to fucking kill them when I find them.”

He starts tearing through the house overturning furniture and turning over tables as he searches. A door opens when he tries to pull all the books off a shelf. You are in shock as you try to follow him on his rampage. You see him go through the door, but it shuts right behind him. You franticly search for a way to open it again.

You pound on the wall screaming for everyone, “BILL, TOM, SCARLETT, ALEX, TOM, ELLEN, CODY, STELLAN, GUSTAF, VALTER, CHRIS, CHRIS, COLIN, ROBERT WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU! THIS ISN’T FUNNY! THIS IS THE WORST FUCKING HOLLYWOOD PARTY I HAVE EVER BEEN TO!”

You grab the few books left on the shelve Bill had just tried to empty and you pull. They move forward but not off the shelf as the door you saw Bill go through opens. Crying, make up smeared you venture into the opening hoping to find everyone there. You think its unlikely you do since it seems this place is full of hidden passages. You wipe the tears from your eyes as you walk through the dimly lit hall.

You scream out for everyone again hoping at least one of them will appear, “BILL, TOM, SCARLETT, ALEX, TOM, ELLEN, CODY, STELLAN, GUSTAF, VALTER, CHRIS, CHRIS, COLIN, ROBERT!”

The hallway ends at another door. It opens when you push on it with all your weight. It leads outside. You walk out taking a breath of fresh air as the sun rises. You feel broken down, exhausted as you hear an alarm go off in the house. You see all the lights turn on, so you run toward the front door to go back inside. As you get to the center of the room balloons fall from the ceiling.

Stepping into the balloon filled room Vernon says, “You made it darling. You were the last one here at dawn.” He hugs you as through he has none you forever. You push him away.”

You say, “What the fuck. Who are you Vernon?”

Vernon smiles, “I’m just a small part of this game. You and all the others that were here with you are the real stars.”

You say, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Laughing he says, “That language and everything everyone did here tonight will entertain thousands or maybe even millions if we get the numbers to watch my boss thinks we will. People will pay for this kind of entertainment.”

Screaming you say, “This isn’t entertainment. We are all people here. Where are my friends?”

Vernon says, “Everyone can come in here now.”

Bill comes out first run over to throw his arms around you to try to comfort you. Tom comes out next and hugs you from the other side. Then everyone else joins in the love fest.”

Vernon says, “What a precious moment. Everyone’s charity will be getting the money promised if you all keep quiet about this night until after the show airs in a month. In that time, we will be secluding you from the public eye on a tropical island with everything you could ever need. No one can be seen in public until it is revealed you are all alright. Your extended families will be told you are working on a secret project. We want the audience to think this was real like all of you did. Your reactions were perfect. We didn’t expect all the hook ups, but that was a great bonus fans will love.”

Stellan says, “Our lives are not some reality show. I don’t tolerate people upsetting my family. You will have a huge lawsuit on your hands.”

Vernon says, “I don’t think so Stellan. When you all agreed to come here you were under contract. Its all legal. Now if you choose to leave you can and we can work around you somehow with some editing magic, but your charity gets nothing so all this emotion and maybe fear for some of you will be because of nothing. Do you really want this experience to be about nothing?”

Bill says, “Who ever came up with this is a sick fuck. But I don’t want to have wasted my time. I’m in.”

The rest of the Skarsgard’s agree wasting time is the worst thing in the world with this night being a close second.

Robert says, “I didn’t do anything embarrassing so I’m in. How about the rest of you?”

Everyone grumbles but, in the end, decide their charity is more important than a little embarrassment. Besides, how much of this could they really show. Everyone looks to you to see what you will decide.

Veron says, “What about you Princess. This could be really good for your acting career if you choose to pursue it more seriously after this. I bet your charity could really use the money.”

Do you decide your charity needs money and go stay with these people on an Island for a month to try to forget about the trauma or do you walk away from everything and possible everyone here? 

If you want to go to THE ISLAND CLICK