#but the only clients that bugged her this past week were not her own even bc she prepped them all for it

[vulpixelates]

my wife's staycation is officially over 😔😔 she just went into her little office 😔 i am in mourning

[niles-rainbow-room]

I Have Been Drawing Nothing but Star Wars for Weeks!

I am slowly drowning in all the Star Wars OCs I’ve been making. I’ve also been binging a lot of the content for SW, so that’s also another reason as to why I haven’t been posting.

Anyways!

This is Cipher (left) and Entonn Vrook! (right)

Cipher is a Coruscant Police droid turned bounty hunter. He was going to be scrapped once the droid model was phased out, but he escaped and started bounty hunting.

Entonn was one of his bounties, but he manages to convince him to tell his client that they’re dead and take them with him.

They end up in a sort of Mando and Grogu situation, both metaphorically and literally because whoops Entonn discovers that he’s force sensitive and goes to Luke’s new school for a while, leaving Cipher on his own.

This is Okss Gryhk (left) and Aghyon! (right)

So, if you know the details of Star Wars, you know that Trandoshans and Wookiees do NOT get along in the slightest. Well, these two are forced to. They were after a Night Sister bounty and she put a curse on the both of them as she was dying that if they were more than a star system apart, they’d both die.

However. This sister was bluffing, she doesn’t have the strength to actually do that, Talzin is probably the only one who could physically do that. So they’re forced to stay together even though they’re really not.

This is The Men of Limbo! A group of smugglers! I’m not going to go into too much detail but, here’s the lineup left to right.

Starsi Tycho: Technician, ex-Pyke Syndicate member, Criminal Underworld Informant.

Ravu Mothh: Co-Pilot, Strategist, used to work for Cile Kin personally.

Cal “Breaker” Blunne: Captain, Pilot

Prug Trula: Gunner

Tilu Vurle: Refugee, Translator, Negotiator

Scraps (not pictured here): The crew’s pet mouse droid.

(This is what they looked like in the past, minus Ravu Mothh)

These are the heads of a smuggler’s guild called The Brass Exar! Once again, just naming them left to right.

Obbee: Financial Manager, Cile Kin’s right hand man

Cile Kin: Ex-Clone Scientist who was left for dead after she learned about the inhibitor chip’s true purpose and spoke up about it, guild leader

Gin Lazul: Informant, Ship Caretaker

This is Darth Malice (Randun Hessbri) and Caroline Mallou!

These two are supposed to be a sort of enemies to lovers sort of thing.

So, Caroline was a dancer who got smitten on this self appointed Sith Lord, and she dropped everything to follow around. She bugs him so much after she stars following him that Malice doesn’t notice the shady people surrounding them.

He’s struggling to fight back, but it’s at that moment when Caroline reveals that underneath the bubbly personality she has, she’s absolutely unhinged and destroys them all. Turns out she has this weird connection to the dark side of the force that doesn’t make her a horrible person. Malice is interested and decides to take her on as his apprentice.

Now, this causes several bad things to happen. If you recall the Rule of Two, that states that only two Sith Lords can be active at one time, a Master and an Apprentice. This is still during the empire era, so Palpatine and Vader fill those roles already.

Before, when it was just Malice self appointing himself, Palpatine never considered him a threat, but as soon as he took an apprentice, he immediately sends Vader and several sections of the Empire after them. Also, Caroline is wanted for murder from that fight earlier.

It ends up being this whole thing of them being on the run, Caroline slowly tearing down Malice’s walls, and also adventures. What ends up happening is the Empire’s forces are slowly being drawn away, and less people are after them, and soon even Vader is drawn away because some certain Death Star plans have been stolen… 👀 we all know what happens during that time frame.

This is Da1Z-E (left) and Eros Leboe! (right)

Nothing special about these two right now, but Eros is force sensitive and she is going to grow up to be the first of what I like to call a

Reaper of the Heart!

Let me explain their whole deal.

Reapers of the Heart are force sensitive individuals who could technically be labeled as Jedi, but are inherently violating their code, as they have attachments and powerful emotions, but they use this in a very different way than Sith.

They love to their fullest, they experience joy and sorrow with all their might. They fight for the ones they love and are physically compassionate, rather than just watching from afar and not getting involved. They are peace keepers, but also warriors when justice needs to be delivered.

And somehow, some way, through their own training, they are able to wield a very bright side of the force. They can have lightsabers, but most of them are scythe shaped, or curved like something similar.

Basically they’re Jedi, but they have therapy.

Anyways, here’s what she looks like when she’s grown, and you may recognize the Togruta next to her! That’s the fully grown Tukraa Meziir, the adopted kid of the storm trooper I mentioned about 2 posts ago! They end up getting married to Eros Leboe.

But yeah! That’s all for now! Thank you for coming to my TED Talk!

[thefanficmonster]

Phone Call Anxiety

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: When wanting to make quality merch, one needs a quality team there to produce and work on quality ideas. Great minds think alike. Great eyes see alike and great hands make alike - the three keys to the formula of creating a clothing line that will be fashionable and up to his brand. Luckily, Corpse knows just who to call.

Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, I absolutely loved the idea! Sorry you’ve had to wait for it to be turned into a fic for so long, but I still hope you come across it and give it a read in which case I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

He’s not a fan of phone calls. Anyone who knows him even remotely is very well informed on Corpse’s distaste for phone calls and upholding a conversation over the phone. He’d even go as far as to say talking to a person face to face is less stressful for him than that previous option.

But still, seeing as how the person he’s trying to reach lives in a different state and is rather busy all the time, arranging an IRL meeting is basically impossible at the moment, and sending her a text results in running the risk of having the text overlooked or completely lost in the sea of notifications she probably gets on the daily.

Therefore, a phone call was his only proper way of reaching her. And it’s what’s got him pacing the room with his nervousness peaking.  He doesn’t know anything about this girl, nothing concrete at least. He was referred to her by Jack who brought her up in their passing conversation when Corpse mentioned how paranoid he was regarding his upcoming merch project. He specifically stated he doesn’t want anything basic and he wants the clothes to be fashionable, suitable for anyone no matter the age or gender and to be endurable. With all the love he has for his fans, he doesn’t want to give them anything less than what they deserve - the best.

“My friend’s the person you’re looking for.“ Jack said enthusiastically and confidently, “She helped me design the latest merch line I put out and I’ve never been more satisfied with my own merch. I’m planning on offering her a position in Cloak for her birthday. Make sure not to let that one slip out if you give her a call though.“ He warned half-jokingly. 

Bottom line, with that kind of intro, Corpse couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued. And so, he asked for this girl - Y/N’s contact info from Jack before he went to surf through her social media where she thankfully posted plenty of pictures of her creations, never failing to mention specifications in the caption of each picture so the viewers would get the perfect and most detailed idea of how high the standard for her work is.

And so he’s finally managed to talk himself into dialing her number that’s been sitting in his phone for weeks now. As he paces his living room, his nerves chewing him out like a dog would with a toy, listening to the ear piercing ring of the dial waiting to get picked up by the girl he’s trying to reach. 

Just then, Corpse’s head turns so that his eyes meet the glowing red numbers on his digital clock on his desk and he damn near hangs up the call right away - it’s half an hour past midnight. Fast as lightning, he removes the phone from his ear, his thumb flying over to press the red ‘end call’ button. Just then, a faint ‘hello’ reaches his ears, coming from the phone’s speaker. She’s answered the call.

He hurries to put the phone back up to his ear.

“Hey, sorry for taking so long to pick up, I ought to clean my desk eventually cause my phone was literally BURIED under a pile of papers.“ A cheerful sing-song voice rattles his stale and sleep deprived consciousness, as if awakening him from a half-dream state. “You’re either a wrong number caller or a last minute client, aren’t you? Need something done urgently?“

Corpse is taken the hell aback by her strong and downright awing first impression. Not to mention her energy at an hour unsuitable for calls. Lord knows he wouldn’t have picked up if her were in her spot. With the intention of not wasting any more of her time than necessary, he hurries to explain his situation. “Y/N, right? Um no, I’m neither actually. I was told about you by a friend, he said you were a real miracle-doer with fashion design.” He trails off for a second, not completely sure of how to hold this conversation, “Uh, sorry for the odd timed call, I lost track of time. I’ve been meaning to call you for hours now but I...I was nervous.” He cringes the second the word leaves his lips, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he wants to leave her with a great, better than realistic impression of himself but he does and as of now he deems his attempts as ultimate failures.

He hears her giggle from her end, rifling through what sounds to be papers, “Yeah, I’m her. And boy is it refreshing to get someone who’s calling with an actual purpose.” She sighs as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, “And don’t worry about the phone call anxiety. Makes two of us, to be honest.”

This catches him off-guard. The last thing he’d expect is for this girl to have phone call anxiety. In fact, she appears to be a natural, God-given talent at carrying conversations and upholding chit-chat with people. Maybe he’s a little too quick to judge - probably, considering he’s ‘known’ her for less than five minutes and knows nothing but her occupation, her name and the state she lives in - but that bubbly persona she greeted him with gave off the impression that it’s immune to any and all kinds of social anxiety - or anxiety in general. To hear such an honest and counter-to-assumptions confession on her part rattles him a tiny bit. In a good way though.

“How does that work for you? Isn’t your whole job depending on your phone conversational skills?“ He doesn’t mind that he didn’t phrase that too perfectly or that he straight up blurted it out. He knows he’ll be understood. She’s obviously a person who understands. Not just something specific, but everything. She simply understands. How he drew this conclusion and how accurate it is, he may not know until further notice.

“Well...“ she sighs as if genuinely looking to give him a proper answer, “You see, after doing it for so long and having been caught off guard quite a few times with some absolutely absurd orders, I’ve grown prepared of literally ANYTHING and I have a line prepared for anything the caller has to say. I just no longer let them catch me off guard and it’s fine. Helps avoid any possible awkward silences.“

Corpse’s eyebrows shoot up, her explanation only raising more questions rather than providing answers. But he’s not gonna be the annoying dumbass asking those questions at close to 1AM and bugging her. After all, if she agrees to this partnership, they’ll be hearing and potentially seeing a lot more of each other soon. “Impressive, honestly. You’re gonna need to teach me sometime.“ He’s unaware he’s smiling until he catches his reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t bother hiding it. This conversation is actually making him feel good, serving as a reminder that he’s not the only one who periodically goes through turmoil over small things. 

She giggles again, this time the sound manages to draw a blush out of him, coating his cheeks, “I’d typically stray for revealing my secrets to professional success, but I’m willing to make an exception for you...” she pauses for a second as though she’s just now remembered something, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know your name.”

He wheezes out a nervous laugh, realizing he never introduced him, “Oh yeah, sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Corpse, nice to meet ya.”

“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.“ Y/N replies, sounding pleased but teasing simultaneously, “Now tell me, you didn’t call me about my phone call secrets, did you? What may be the real purpose of your call?“

Oh shoot, he himself almost forgot what he was calling for. Luckily, the reference designs displayed on his computer screen remind him. “Right, well, I’ve been thinking of launching a new merch line either this month or the next, depending on how long the procedure will take, and I needed someone great on my team to make some merch actually worth the money people are paying for it. And, as I said, I was told you were in that ‘someone great’ category.”

“Told by who, if you don’t mind me asking?“ She briefly cuts him off, her voice now giving away the fact that she’s half-absent-minded in this conversation, added evidence be the ruffling of more papers on her end.

“Jack. I mean, Sean. You know, Jacksepticeye.“ Corpse explains, contemplating whether he should’ve ratted Jack out like that. Hearing the sound of delight Y/N lets out eases his worries ASAP though.

“Oh Gosh, I haven’t seen that cutie in so long! He’s like a brother to me so a friend of Jack’s is a friend of min-“ this time she cuts herself off so abruptly Corpse thought the line was cut or she hung up on him. She doesn’t let him wonder for long though, “Wait, wait, wait....Merch? And you’re friends with Jack?“ She pauses for a second once again, once again not a long enough second for Corpse to speak up. “You’re a famous YouTuber, aren’t you?“

He was completely unaware of the fact Y/N hadn’t realized he was someone famous yet. In fact, he didn’t think of it because he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to her considering she’s friends with Jack-fucking-septiceye! In his mind, his ranking is far lower than Jack’s - despite that mindset being absurd - so the last thing he expected was for her to have some sort of impressed reaction to have been talking to him on the phone this whole time. Hell, she doesn’t even know his full YouTube name or what kind of content he produces.

“WAIT!“ She shouts urgently, startling him a tiny bit, “You’re Corpse Husband, aren’t you? Oh my God, yes you are, how didn’t I put it together sooner? Ah crap, I really need more coffee for this.“

“No! No, you need more sleep.“ Corpse hurries to correct her but is very clearly ignored or overlapped with the many sounds that are coming from her end, “What are you doing?“

“You’re getting the first rough sketch of a design by tomorrow morning.“ She says, taking a sip of whatever beverage she’s acquired for the purpose of keeping her awake, “You go ahead and get some sleep, I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about it.“

“I’m not worried about the design.“ He hurries to say before she, God forbid, hangs up on him, “It’s 1AM, woman, you need sleep! I don’t need those designs done by tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even need them this week!“

“You don’t, but I do.“ Y/N says, sounding almost breathless because of what seems to be overwhelming excitement, “You don’t get it - I’m designing merch for Corpse fucking Husband! You have any idea how crazy that is?“

“I personally would say it’s underwhelming. I mean, I’m no Pewdiepie, after all.“ He says, now sat at his desk with his free hand rubbing his temple as he stares at the designs he’s pulled up on his screen, ones he probably won’t need given that he’s now working with a professional.

“Oh, shut it.“ She chuckles, “Shut it and get some sleep, ok? I’ll talk to you in the morning.“

“Noooo...“ He leisurely stretches the word, “Tell me, Y/N, do you have Discord?” She clicks her tongue instantly, giving him a signal that the question he’s asked is bordering into the territory of ridiculous. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Alright then, lemme find you. If we’re partnering up on this, we’re both staying up.”

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t fully trust me with this? Like, I won’t be offended, I get it.“ She murmurs in-thought, the sound of clicking evident on her end. 

“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t want me bothering you and want me to leave you alone?“ He mimics her statement, smirking to himself as he pulls up Discord, knowing he’s already won.

She huffs and tells him her Discord info, quickly adding a small comment, “...but only because great minds think alike. I know we’ll be getting along on this design pretty nicely.”

“Yeah, yeah, right, sure, whatever you say.“ He laughs, “Accept my friend request and let’s drop this phone call.“

“Hey! - um, before we do that, I just wanna say a quick thank you.“ Y/N murmurs quietly, as if half-hoping he doesn’t hear her.

“For what?“ Corpse asks, his brows furrowing, unsure if they’re on the same page about this gratitude.

“For never once triggering my phone call anxiety.“ She admits, “I mean, I know I said I have lines prepared for every conversation scenario possible, but you totally caught me off-guard.“ She giggles a tiny bit, now sounding dangerously close to nervous, “But, not in a bad way, if that makes sense. Sorry if it doesn’t, I need more coffee.“

“No, no, it does!“ He hurries to reassure her, “It really does. And thank you too. Thank you for, you know, tolerating my BS at this hour. God knows I would’ve ignored your call if our roles were reversed.“

He hears her scoff and can’t help but laugh, “Huh ok, I see.“ She says, sounding greatly triggered and mock-pissed at his confession, “I’ll make sure to think of that next time you call me after midnight. Or at all, ever.“

Laughing his butt off, the only thing Corpse can think of in this moment is:

Damn, this girl and I are gonna get along

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[flame-shadow]

How Cyra and Jerome Met and Slowly Became Friends

Cyra at this point was doing odd jobs for whatever sane bugs she came across who wanted some help. Usually that meant going into unsafe areas to retrieve tools or try to find healing plants or even search for the body of a loved one and bring back a token. They were dangerous tasks, but she didn't care too much if she was killed. The only bug who would care would be whoever was waiting for her to come back, and how much of a loss would she be, really, when that client hardly knew her to begin with?

When some odd sciency type offered to trade some useful chemicals for samples of the white roots they'd heard grew past the edge of the Kingdom, Cyra accepted and flew off. It didn't matter to her why this bug wanted the samples. Everyone had their own ways of dealing with things, and it made sense that most would stick with hobbies that kept them where they felt safer.

The Kingdom's Edge can be rather breathtaking to a first time visitor. It wasn't hers, but she still took a moment to stand and take in the canyon before her. Far from lifeless and yet it carried a sad sense of desolation about it. If she ever got tired of dealing with other bugs, she could see herself finding a cave here and making it her own.

For now, though, she had a job.

It wasn't difficult to locate white roots, though evading or slaying the persistent aspids was a pain, and she didn't get away unscathed. Those spitters weren't the only thing to find an interest in the wasp. A boofly drifted close as she cut off a tip and stuck it into her bag. She glared at the large bug and flashed her knife, but apart from drifting back a little, it didn't seem bothered by her hostility. Cyra found the boofly's interest odd, especially considering how little the others seemed to pay her any mind as she flew by. Well, whatever. It couldn't hope to keep up with her, so once she collected another couple samples from these exposed roots, she gave it another sharp look and zipped away.

The boofly hummed curiously and drifted closer to the cut roots, wondering why the angry, buzzy bug cut parts of it off. Shame he’ll probably never know. Didn’t even get the chance to try to ask before she flew off. Ah well…

A week later, however, he spied the wasp again. How odd! More roots? But when he flew closer, he saw that she was just… sitting. Maybe she was hurt? The boofly landed on the same ledge but many body lengths away. That spear in her hands looked dangerous, though the sharp look she leveled at him had a longer range. Hoping it would communicate his lack of danger, he dipped his head and looked away. Unfortunately, in that moment of not looking, the wasp flew off. The boofly sighed and watched the ash swirl in her wake.

The next encounter went much the same way, and the boofly wasn’t sure if he should push it again. Clearly this wasp didn’t care for company, but she seemed so lonely and yet so defensive… It didn’t seem likely that she tried very hard to make friends, and most people wouldn’t try this hard to make friends with her. He determined to try one more time if he saw her again, but if she didn’t engage, he’d leave her be.

It was the same ledge. She picked the same ledge again. He wondered why. He wondered if that was a sign. He hoped it was, though his tail drooped when he heard her sigh as he touched down. But as he was debating flying away and leaving her to her solitude, he heard her say, “You’re persistent.” And despite his experience with tones in Common Speech being minimal, he was pretty sure she wasn’t upset.

Their first conversation didn’t last long. It was hard to converse when one half of the party could do little more than indicate yes or no, and the other half seemed reluctant to ask questions. But gradually over the intermittent meetups, Cyra started to warm up to the boofly, to engage with him, and to understand what some of his hums and wing flicks and leg gestures meant. Eventually, she asked for his name. He shrugged. He didn’t have one. Not really. He gestured for Cyra to pick something, but she shook her head. “That’s personal. Figure out what sounds you like. I will help you from there.”

He figured some inspiration might be helpful, and he gestured at her. What was her name? “Wasp,” she almost said. That was what she let people call her these days. It was easier, more impersonal, less attachment. Her friends knew her name, but they were dead. Perhaps her name was a curse. Hah, she doesn’t actually believe that. But she was still reluctant to share her name.

“... Cyra,” she eventually said.

And next time they met, she helped the boofly make his own name. Jerome.

[justformyself2]

what is up with us and boats?

Happy Easter yall!!! This one goes out to the beautiful soul that gave the idea @alievans007​ thank you do much, i really hope you enjoy ♥

I don’t know if you guys ever watched “My Best friend’s Wedding.” but there is this scene were they are on the boat ride in Chicago, and i love that scene, this is sort of based on that. 

VIDEO FOR WHO WANTS TO SEE.  (CLICK)

KrasinskixReader/Fluff.

(don’t remember where i got this gif from.)

"We need to talk." The worst type of message anyone could ever receive. 

Holding up a smirk, you start typing.

"Yes, we do."

"Could you focus? You know, for the love of God and everything. We still have to drive to Olivia's after this." Mariah interrupts whatever dance with the danger you were having with John over text.  

"Why is everybody so weird all of the sudden? First John and now you too, I mean, we are settling details here. The trip to Positano is all sorted."

She gets radio silent, making you look away from your phone. 

"Mariah." You call.

"What?" She answers, badly covering the stress in her voice.

"Everything is fine, right?"

She breaths out through the nose, clicking on the mouse rapidly. 

"Mariah." You call again as if an answer different than you were expecting would come out. 

The Positano trip was a huge deal, a huge, cryptic deal that Mariah arranged by herself through an old friend you never heard or saw. The client, by the name of Vince, was paying double to hire your company, and an undeniable request came, almost sweeping away all of your doubts. You would get to shoot a perfume commercial during the holidays at the place you always dreamed of visiting. It was embarrassing how fast the yes came out, almost in a scream towards Mariah's face, even though there was something off. 

It was true that in the past you worked for the big names, but since the decision to open your own company with Mariah happened, it was all new, too new to be receiving this type of offer. You decided to brush it off by 

trusting your business partner, Mariah had been in the game longer than you have, and if she claimed, more than once, that it was a safe offer and that she had under control then you should believe since her reputation was on the game too, but now get to watch her sitting in front of you, looking worried.

"Well, I'm going to make some phone calls, but don't worry, it is a quick fix situation. I will be right back."

She gets up from the desk, grabbing her phone, and leaving the space before you could say something back. 

Your mind wonders over the fact that your intuition should be listened to more often. It was a "too good to be true" offer, so if that would end up being right, and Mariah came back with the bad news, would it mean that you were probably right about John too.

You look at your phone, facing down on the desk, and decide to check the messages again. There must be something missing between the lines.

Inserting the pin you open up the new messages you received from your boyfriend.

"What do you mean with ‘yes we do’?"

"Tell me when I can call you."

"Damn. I think I'm not getting the week off. They are talking about reshooting some parts." 

"I will call you in 10 minutes."

And just as you read the last one, your phone vibrates. It was his call. Taking a deep breath, you accept it.

"Hey, babe, did you get my texts?"

You hear the many voices in the background mixing with his.

"Yes, I did... Are you on set right now?"

"Yes. I'm on a little break...I'm sorry, baby. I'm not going to make it to Positano."

The frustration makes your heart skip a beat even though you saw the message, hearing it in his voice had a different effect. You stopped counting the weeks without him because of the impact they had on your day, instead, in a very unhealthy way, that habit was replaced with you picturing him waiting for you at home, laying in the bed you shared or in the kitchen, trying to replicate whatever recipe out of Youtube just to prove that he could cook, just to try to impress you. He still wanted to impress you after all this time, he just didn't figure out how to be in two places at once. 

"Well, don't be. If I'm right I don't think this trip is happening." 

As time passes by without Mariah coming back, your guess was becoming a reality. It wasn't a quick fix thing.

"What are you talking about?"

His voice went urgent, and he quickly added: "I mean, it was a great offer."

"Yes, but it is a holiday season. It gets difficult with hotel reservations and flights, but Mariah ran away before I could get a word out of her. It happens."

"Wow, you sound so indifferent. I thought you loved Positano." 

You had to agree with him. You felt the apathy in your bones.

"I do love Positano, but the offer was out of touch like something was off like everything is off."

You hear him chuckle and frown to yourself, walking towards Mariah's laptop on her desk.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. You were so weird when I dropped you at the airport as if you wanted to say something to me or pass out."

You reminisce his pale face and the way his hands were clammy on yours before the goodbye on the car. 

"Those are two very different things." You wanted to picture the face he could be doing right now.

"Well, I still feel like there is something you are not tell-."

"Baby, I need to go right now, sorry, I will call you later okay."

The interruption of a female voice in speakers was the last thing you heard before he hanged up.

"What the hell was going on?" You say to yourself. 

Forgetting about the phone you decided to check on Mariah's laptop for confirmations, but before anything was done she busted through the door.

"Did you fixed it?"

You ask, seeing her avid eyes shift between you and the laptop.

"What are you doing?" She asks and snaps out of the suspicion stare.

"What do you mean what am I doing? I want to help. Do you care to tell me what is happening, Mariah?"

Her phone calls her attention, and she rushes towards the laptop, answering quickly, leaving you only to watch again.

"Did you get my text? Yes, apparently a bug happened on the site, and our plane tickets got canceled." She discoursed to the person on the other site.

"I don't know if we are getting new ones on the same date, there is a lot of demand... Well, then we have to cancel for no-... Are you sure? Okay, no. I can do that, is way off plan, way less dreamy, really, way less, but I guess we can do it if you do this right now."

She pauses, focused on what was being passed down. "Okay, then it's the new plan. Okay, okay, bye."

Hanging up, she now seemed to be willing to share.

"Change of plans. I informed Vince's team about what happened, and a girl named J-Jannete said that we should meet to settle some details. They want to go for a studio since the deadline would get messed up because of the plane ticket debacle."

"Shit, why didn't you put on speakerphone? I know someone that could help us wit-."

"NO!..." She screams, making you back away involuntary.  "I mean, I already checked that, and we can't keep tapping on something that isn't working. They are already upset and we could lose even more time. Jenna set up a meeting with Vince himself...Jannete, at four, so you get to meet him, as you wanted."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . . 

"Why are we on a boat ride again?"

You ask Mariah, who fanned herself with a flier they were distributing about the ride.

"Because we got bailed on and it has been a long time since I don't go on one of those."

She adjusts the sunglasses in an annoyed way. 

The day-star was starting to set, still, the weather was hot and humid as if it was peaking. You try to catch delicate hints of purple and pink on the mostly light orange painted sky.

"I haven't been on one of these since John asked me to be his girlfriend. It was our third date. He insisted on the boat ride and I didn't like it, but then the sun was setting so beautifully, in not time the only thing i could care about was the way he looked at me."

There is no interruption other than the sting in your chest, making you stop on the tracks of something you loved to remember.

"I think John is lying to me. I don't think he was on set." Voicing the thoughts made them too real, and suddenly you wanted to forget about them.

"Yeah."

Mariah twists her torso once or twice, looking back to the people who were still taking seats. You doubted she was listening to anything you said all the way here. She started inspecting the place, restless since the taxi dropped you two.

"Okay, are you waiting for someone?"

By impulse, you look back to pursue whatever her eyes were trying to find even without knowing, and that is when you spotted him, a vision that walked towards you, seeming to be out of breath. His mouth partially open turns into the smile you wanted to kiss.

"Son of a bitch."

The words flew from your lips and you hear Mariah's laugh.

Your eyes follow his movements with thirst, so much thirst that everything else is a mere blur in the background.

John comes closer, saying something to Mariah when she gets up and hugs him. She never hugged him. 

You swallow dry, seeing for a second Mariah give you a thumbs up before walking away.

"Hey." He almost whispers towards your face, taking the seat, and when his lips come closer to yours, you back away. He frowns.

"You were in LA."

"Yes, I was."

"Please, don't short answer me."

He gets up from the chair and grabs extends his hand towards you.

"Come with me, and I will explain."

Not thinking twice you accept his hand, being guided to the stern of the boat, walking in the middle of strangers and loud conversations. John drops your hand and reaches for your waist with smoothness as if he could be taking you to dance. Intuitively your arms laces around his neck.

His eyes trace a path away from you and straight to your mouth before he started moving.

"You are so difficult to lie to." He starts, smirking. 

A gust of wind blows the locks of your hair away, and his fingers are quick to adjust them behind your ear, sending goosebumps on your back. You missed his touch on your skin.

"But you did lie to me." You can't help to say, trying to focus.

"It was only because I wanted to this right, but I know I would blow it at some point. It almost happened when you dropped me at the airport."

"Do what right?"

His breath came out uneasy through his nose, and he licks his lips.

"Ask you to...marry...me."

Instantly you feel your eyes starting to water. There was no control or rational thought that could calm down the wave of feeling like the soles of your shoes weren't touching the wooden floor of that boat, and his arms were the only thing keeping you down.

"There is no Vince. It was a bait to make a surprise for you and get you to Positano without getting too suspicious, and I lied about not going as part of the surprise. I would do the whole thing right, bring our families, have a huge dinner, enjoy a couple of days there. Then your tickets got canceled, the Vince thing got way too suspicious, and I haven't seen you in almost four weeks. Next thing I know, I was at the airport, counting the hours to do this."

He captures your lips with his before you could comprehend. There are intensity and the passion you craved, and that only he could provide, he could devour you, and you would let him.

"Do it right now."

You ask, out of breath, after parting the kiss with his moan of reproval.

"Don't you want the real thing? You know, I can figure out the tickets, maybe call Clooney and ask if we can borrow his private jet. He will probabl-."

"I don't care where you are going to propose to me. I just want you to do it, that is the real thing. It could have been on the car, at breakfast, at the airport, or even in a replica of the day you asked me to be your girlfriend."

He laughs, kissing you again. He holds your face in his hands, parting the kiss to gaze at your eyes.

"Oh, I'm glad you remembered it. That is why I wanted to make something different this time. What is up with us and boats?."

"I don't know but let's get back into the program here. You were about to ask me something." 

He frowns, looking away theatrically.

"And what was the question, again?" John asks, setting his face close to yours. His lips touching your cheeks, coming closer to your ear.

"Was it something like. Do you want to marry me?" 

You could feel your neck hair getting up with the vibration of his low and deep tone affecting you easily.

"Yes."

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (2/10)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 3 4 5

Notes: I was torn between publishing the next chapter of lovebug or outlier tonight so I opted to just go for lovebug. I'll post the next chapter of outlier mid next week. As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

“We’re gonna delay the release of our next fix…” Levi repeated, just a little slower that time. He didn’t trust himself then to speak in anything faster or with a tone any louder.

It was too early in the morning for a meeting, just a little past eight in the morning. He was called into Erwin’s office right after arriving into company grounds and Erwin, a natural early bird, was talking louder than what could have been considered bearable for Levi.

At eight in the morning though, not a lot of things were bearable, especially if they involved a huge change of plans and a glaring reminder that he had a long work day ahead of him.

More importantly, Erwin’s voice was grating in a way that most bosses’ voices were grating when laced with a little more urgency than necessary. “Yes Levi, we’re delaying our fixes indefinitely, not just for Love Alarm but all of our other apps as well.”

Levi raised his eyebrows. “Really? You know we’ve been announcing this big fix for months.”

“I’ve contacted the marketing team. We are pushing the fixes back a week. You think that will be enough for you to finish everything you need?”

Levi shook his head. “There’s no need to push back the release. I can work on this bug now and I can have the other developers and the support team work on getting the regression testing done and getting the release out.”

Erwin shook his head. “I do not want to give Mr. Jaeger the impression that we aren’t prioritizing his complaints. Levi, you have to understand. He’s an important client.”

“I understand that. And I will be on top of things. I’m testing this issue myself.” Most days, Levi left the testing option to the support team. Given the nature of the bug though and the severe urgency of getting it fixed, it had been an easy decision for Levi to take it upon himself.

Erwin hummed in approval. “Yes and I’m happy to hear that you're going to be investigating this bug. I would rather that we didn’t release anything while investigating this.”

“May I ask why? This bug doesn’t involve any of our other functionalities. I can test this myself.”

Erwin hummed. “Zeke Jaeger is an unpredictable man. I don’t think he would appreciate us improving our product while such a glaring bug still exists. He is a very vocal and he might give us some bad press.”

“Oh?” Levi heard the derision in his own tone then, a smooth yet venomous sound. Zeke Jaeger had been outwardly friendly yet for some reason Levi couldn’t explain just yet. He wasn’t at all drawn by the charisma that accompanied it. In fact, the blonde had just been annoying and the conversation only cemented Levi’s first impression of Zeke Jaeger as bad, maybe even terrible.

What the hell does Hange see in him? He added to himself then. How that had entered his own contemplations then, he didn’t know. He quickly brushed it away and mustered the most seemingly uninvested face he could make then.

Erwin had that special talent of seeming uninvested either. As he settled on the sofa in front of Levi, he mixed the coffee just a little too loudly. He had an aura about him that very much meant business. “Have you done some prior investigation?”

“I did,” Levi said. As he soon found out, that aura was contagious.

“Anything new?”

“I’m entertaining the idea that what if…. The application is working fine?”

“Can you explain why his partner had two hearts while he had none?”

Levi cleared his throat. “Assuming the application is working perfectly, we can draw two conclusions. One, someone in love with Hange Zoe had their application on and Two, Hange Zoe isn’t in love with Zeke Jaeger.” That last conclusion couldn’t have easily been true, but still such words left such a sweet aftertaste in Levi’s mouth that he had to make some considerable effort not to smile.

Erwin raised his eyebrows inquisitively. “Any leads on whose application could have been on?”

It had taken some strength, some self confidence and some self discipline on Levi’s side to pull his phone out then. “My love alarm was on yesterday, I forgot to turn it off after the demo…” He navigated to the ‘history’ tab and opened his history to the exact time to late afternoon yesterday.

One person nearby is in love with you. Levi read silently to himself. In that split second, he was contemplating display issues and front end bugs that maybe just maybe accidentally chalked Hange’s heart as ‘love.’ It was highly unlikely though so even before that idea had ripened into something worth an explanation and a support ticket, Levi brushed it aside.

“So your application was on the whole time.” Erwin murmured, looking intently at the phone in front of him.

Levi nodded. “But it’s a good step in the right direction. That means there’s a bug to investigate after all. I just have to isolate it to either Hange Zoe’s application build or mine,” he explained.

“That seems promising and do you need any help organizing a meeting with her.”

“She’s coming today for a little testing.”

“Just like my best engineer to think a few steps ahead.” Erwin asked, a smile curling up his lips. “And you think you can get it done within a week?”

“If all goes well… Even less than a week.”

***

It had turned out that that small meeting had worked well to organize Levi’s thoughts. He had a quick action plan from there and with an action plan, a new burst of motivation, or at least enough of it to carry him from Erwin’s room to his own small office space in a little less than five minutes.

A week to investigate. Levi thought to himself as he leaned back on his office chair. He looked back up at the ceiling for a good few seconds before writing his deadline down on the white board next to him.

He didn’t need that whiteboard, their workflow trackers and excel sheets worked well to always keep Levi in the right state of mind. Yet there was something organic about white boards, something natural about being able to write the numbers with his own hand, freely changing his fonts with just the slight of the hand, impulsively changing formats at just a quick motion.

So he kept it there next to him, a large annoying waste of space to most people. But Levi had taken great pains to make it look organized in his room, measuring each frame to the millimeter. It was a large clean slate right next to his desk in his very small office. And more importantly, it was something that was very much his to play around with like he wanted to.

Under the deadline, he put the new release date of their fix.

We’re delaying the release of the next fix by a week.

Such wise words from someone who didn’t know how the investigation process actually worked. But with an employee and boss relationship, emphasis on Levi being the employee, he had to make it work. That’s how it had always been in the office. Erwin wasn’t a developer. He was a manager. And Levi was being paid by him.

Levi though never liked the idea of delaying fix releases. Once the date was announced, he liked to make sure all of the quality assurance testing and the regression testing was done two weeks ahead. And with that habit becoming custom for the Love Alarm project, he was sure they would have managed to make the release next week. Staring at the workflow interface, he noted the bar was more than half full already, most bugs were tagged as fix. All test builds were submitted and passed and they could have easily moved on to the final regression testing before release.

And regression testing never actually failed. The Love Alarm app after all was a very functionally simple application.

With the weight of a wasted timely release and the powerlessness of corporate politics bare on his back, Levi let out a long sigh.

He opened up his slack channel and typed out a few words.

We’re delaying the next fix release.

But it wouldn’t just be the Love Alarm which would be affected, all the other applications would be affected as well. His notifications exploded within five seconds, all feedback from each time. Levi started to wonder, maybe he should have put everything in one message.

So he edited his old message.

We’re pushing it back a week.

Under that, he put a new date and time as a reminder to all other employees. There were many why’s, many protests and his application continued to shake with notifications.

He checked the time on his phone. Hange had agreed to meet at nine and she should be texting soon. With little to no brains pace to create a summary of his meeting with Erwin in less than ten minutes, Levi typed out two words.

Erwin’s orders. Without waiting for anymore protests, he closed his laptop, packed up his things and ready to move to the small conference room he had reserved for him and Hange.

It was a few floors below. A small room among others but Levi was familiar enough with the layout of their offices to know it was very much soundproof.

Any unwelcome alarms, unwelcome notifications and unwelcome conversations would stay in that room. Even before Levi had dropped off his things in the conference room, Hange had already texted.

Her car was by the gate already.

Meet in the lobby. Levi texted back as he quickened his pace, quickly turning back towards the elevator, laptop bag still in hand.

He could have been too slow. Or Hange could have just been too fast but by the time he had arrived in the lobby, she was already on one of the seats next to the reception, playing around with her phone.

She was wearing a light sweater, her brown hair was pulled up messily into a half ponytail. Levi though had to note that it still looked very much like it fell into place. For a second, he had given her a good onceover, admiring everything at once.

Only a split second later, he was cruelly reminded that he had made her wait, long enough for her to have to sit down in one of the lobby sofas. “How long were you waiting?” It wouldn’t have been the first greeting Levi would have liked to give then. His heart was racing though and soon he realized, maybe he had taken up the unnecessary challenge of jogging down those five flights of stairs while keeping his laptop safely in tow.

Hange looked up from her phone seeming surprised. “Are you busy? Was this a bad time to visit?” Hange asked. “We could reschedule... “

More and more, the first greeting then was seeming less and less ideal. “No, no. This is great. I don’t know what just came over me. Thank you for taking the time to test this bug with me.”

Hange shook her head. “No, no, I asked my partner to invest in this application for a reason. I see great potential and I’d be happy to tweak some of those bugs with you.” Her lips widened into a smile. “So what’s the game plan?”

Levi gestured towards the elevators. “We do some simple testing. I just need to isolate the cause of this bug.”

“Oh? How does application testing work?”

“We use the application,” Levi answered matter-of-factly. Was there any other way to test it? It didn’t seem like something he should be asking the very important partner of a very important person though so Levi kept that last question to himself, instead keeping his face then as something both subtle and questioning.

“That’s cool,” Hange said. “So how’s your job?”

“It’s fine,” Levi answered. “The investigation will keep me busy.” He stared at the numbers on the elevator, getting lower and lower and Levi could have sworn it couldn’t go any slower. He could have found some consolation if anybody else had joined them in the elevator then, to at least abate that awkward need to carry some conversation between them.

Any other employees though had chosen for themselves to wait in front of other elevators. Levi was almost considering doing the same thing.

After all, Hange was talkative. She was asking questions. When they entered the elevator together, the very slow elevator, there would be more than enough time to send two to three questions back and forth. And Levi was quick to realize, he was an incredibly boring person.

“So do you have any hobbies?”

“Programming.” What about you? Levi had readied himself to ask in that long split second of silence that followed.

Hange though was quick to respond even before he could take control of the conversation. “Well aside from your actual job.”

“I like to clean,” Levi answered. He started to wonder how dorky that hobby sounded like. He needed to rephrase. “I meant--- organize things…” He added a second later. “Like Marie Kondo.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard about her,” Hange said. She had at least allowed for a split second silence then, long enough for Levi to take the reins of the conversation.

Hange though was a high profile person, her partner was one of the richest men in the country and Levi’s mind was racing with hypotheticals. Was it okay to ask her about her hobbies? Her interests? Or was that supposed to be an exclusively professional meeting?

Soon, with all the questions nagging at him at once, he unearthed a question at the back of his mind that he had been meaning to ask since he had met Hange down at the lobby.

So how’s your husband?

Where’s your husband? Do you hang out with him often? Do you usually do stuff alone? A question that couldn’t so easily be answered by a single google search on an incognito window, only that night, he had tried searching keywords just to be sure.

Hange Zoe Zeke Jaeger Relationship

And soon after searching that just once. He had made sure to clear his browser history just in case he didn’t do it in some incognito window. After all, night mode and incognito mode had almost the same interface.

He soon found out though after jumbling around keywords over a search engine that Google wasn’t omnipotent as it turned out. The only one who could have satisfied his curiosity at that moment was the brunette next to him then.

He couldn’t bring himself to ask it just then though. So he went for another question, a very vanilla one but it seemed like a safe bet. “What about you?”

“What about me? What do you mean about me?”

Levi was starting to doubt the flow of the conversation of a while ago. Did he remember it correctly?

The elevator dinged like it was announcing some coming of a messiah. That had been more than enough to break the awkwardness of that exchange and Levi quickly slammed the open elevator door, just a little more loudly than usual. He gestured for Hange to go ahead.

“Hobbies,” Levi said as he met her outside the elevator.

“I like research,” Hange answered.

“Is that your full time job?” Levi asked. He didn’t need to ask. He had read more than enough articles of Zeke Jaeger’s partner to have seen ‘neuropsychologist’ used as an epithet enough to be convinced that that was her full time job. The last thing he wanted to do though was actually accidentally imply in a conversation that he had googled a few keywords for answers before clearing his browser history.

Hange nodded. “Yes it is.”

“Well… Hobbies aside from your actual job?” Levi asked. He kept his own word usage and his own phrasing similar to what Hange had used with him. If Hange asked it that way, that should have been a socially acceptable way to ask.

“I like plants,” Hange said firmly. She wasn’t looking at him. Although Levi had wanted to see the face she was making then, he started to realize that craning his neck to get a good view of her face might just look a little too weird.

So he settled for her side profile. From his view he could see eyes were everywhere at once from the hallways to the doorways just a little further away from the area that opened up as soon as they exited the elevator. “Where are we going?”

“Over here,” Levi said, he was quick to pull her towards the other side though, before she found out that he had taken a good few steps already in the wrong direction. “The conference room is over here…”

“We have a meeting?” Hange asked, her voice suddenly very tense.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just thought it would be better that I reserved a room, so we could do some testing where we wouldn’t bother anyone.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I thought I was supposed to be preparing something.”

In those few minutes, he had made her wait, made her navigate some awkward conversation and made her panic. Then and there as he led her to the room, he was guessing what kind of dashing review she’d be giving Zeke about their first meet up.

More importantly, was he giving a great second impression? It was nine in the morning, too early for him to be confident that he was a fully functioning human being. Or so, that was what he repeated to himself then. He could make up for it after lunch.

Hange settled on one of the chairs nearest to the door. “Do we sit together?” She asked. The meeting room was designed for a maximum of ten people and for a good few seconds, he wondered if he should have gotten something much smaller.

Even before he had figured it out for himself, he was looking between sitting right next to her or towards the other side of the room. They weren’t married. Could he sit beside someone who was married?

But if he sat too far, he might not be able to hear her. He went for a very safe in between. He dropped his laptop bag on the seat next to her with some flourish, as if to say, he was married to his job and he was happy with that arrangement before sitting on the seat right next to his bag.

There was a bag between them, they were a safe distance away and Levi pulled his laptop out and booted it up. “I’m suspecting that the issue with your application might be the build. Can you redownload it for me?” He asked. The laptop had been a reminder at least that they were there for business. And business meant that they had a topic of conversation and he had practiced that script enough times to know, he probably didn’t sound like an idiot.

“Are we testing now?” Hange pulled her phone from her bag.

“Yes we are. Just download the app from the app store. I need to confirm that this isn't just your build in particular being faulty,” Levi brought out his own phone, deleted the application from the folder before redownloading it into his phone.

The ‘downloading’ message next to the love alarm application served some form of inspiration for conversation topics at least. “So, how does your husband like the app?” Levi asked. That line was straight from the basic customer service manual and he was very much sure that was acceptable territory for a professional conversation topic.

“Ahh Zeke? He loves the application. He told me himself, he sees potential in it too.”

Did he tell you over dinner? Over car rides? Somehow, Levi was picturing them over a happy dinner in their European style dining room in their very expensive penthouse apartment down town. He knew how it looked. He had seen it in one of the lifestyle articles he had googled just the night before. “That’s good,” Levi said, he felt that comment catch at his throat. He cleared his throat. “The bug... How does he feel about it?”

Hange’s face fell at that. Subtly at least, but with Levi had been staring at her for the past few seconds, it was very much noticeable as a split second movement. “Yeah, about that…”

“Did he say anything about it?”

“We did research on the application last night… And we were theorizing… so the heart could have been from him… and from someone else right? Someone else had their application open then. And he was saying it was you.” Hange’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “But I remember you said, it could be a bug right? And I’m sure you turned off your phone before we tested it…”

“And we’re testing again,” Levi said as he opened the newly downloaded application on his phone. “Log into your account.” He ordered, looking pointedly at Hange’s phone.

The biometrics were already in his account, all he needed was to log his fingerprints again. Levi took a glance at Hange’s phone laid out on the table.

She had gone through the log in process quickly. He turned the love alarm on and rested his chin on his hands and waited. Hange only needed a few seconds. Soon she had turned it on.

And within a second, her phone buzzed then his phone buzzed. It did wonders to shake the whole table then, enough for Levi to have to grit his teeth as the table shook sending a bolt of shivers up to his chin.

He could have sworn he felt blood rush to his face then. He quickly turned off the alarm. “It might be a problem with our phones. I”ll bring down some test devices and we can try this again. He avoided Hange’s gaze only brushing his hands on her shoulders long enough to make his point known. “Just wait here.”

Hange mumbled something with a seemingly obedient tone. Levi didn’t bother to guess. He quickly made his way out of the room, up the stairs--- he was in no mood to run into anyone in the elevator.

It had taken him roughly ten minutes to go back up to the office and come back down with a bag full of gadgets. He dropped the bag on the meeting table, maybe a little too loud and a little too roughly. “These are the most common gadgets used for testing the love alarm. They’ve all been factory reset so just set any one of them up and we try the application again.”

Hange seemed frozen with surprise, at the least she had managed a nod.

Setting up the device was a simple process and Hange didn’t ask too much about it. She had at least kept quiet through the whole ordeal and although it was second nature for Levi to set up a device, he made sure to keep his head down, his eyes intent, feigning deep concentration.

Or maybe he needed to concentrate. His hands were shaking just a little bit, his heart was racing.

He was sure he only needed to try it one different device, one commonly used model for both of their phones to rule out any problems with build or model. It was a decisive move.

And the climax of such a process came once again when Hange had motioned to click the love alarm again before looking up at him. Before they even met eyes, Levi clicked the on button on his end.

It was at the moment when the alarms rang in unison again did Hange avert her gaze. Levi bit his lip as he stared back at his phone.

One person nearby is in love with you.

He glanced up, at Hange’s phone. Although he couldn’t make out the words on it, the characteristic heart near the center was enough. She was getting the same heart.

He grabbed the phone from her. “It might be related to the model,” Levi said, Years of experience working with applications and phones were telling him, it wasn’t related. One working phone was more than enough proof. Looking at the watch at the end of the meeting room, he saw it was far from lunch time, he had at least ten devices in the bag. “Let’s try it on other phones… Just to be sure.”

***

“Levi, what if…”

“What if…” Levi nodding his head at Hange slowly, a subtle gesture for her to continue speaking.

For lunch, they had settled for one of the diner just along the wide shopping streets only a few minutes walk from the building.

An eventful few minutes walk. Levi had turned on his love alarm, put an earbud to one ear and listened to the alarm ring on repeat as he followed Hange through the streets. There were a few other notifications that popped up and left as he listened. But the ringing coming from that one heart which he had already surmised long ago, was from Hange’s heart had settled into even the cadence of his steps. It became an ubiquitous part of the short walk to the shopping street.

When they had settled in the diner though, Hange was quick to drop her phone in front of him and show him the history of her application. On her phone, there was one heart that remained steadfast through the whole ten minute walk as well.

At that moment, Hange pointed at it, then glanced quickly at Levi’s own phone. “What if… You are attracted to me. And I’m attracted to you? Because this love alarm, it doesn’t just check love right? It checks attractiveness. So if a passer by thinks you’re attractive, your alarm rings,” Hange said.

Levi leaned back on the diner behind him, picking at his fries with a fork. He couldn’t bring himself to eat one, just the results of their testing that morning had him losing his appetite. Consequently, he had ordered the burger meal at the front of the menu, something he was in no mood to eat.

“So maybe…” Hange said.

“Hange, we just met. During all the tests. I have never made anyone’s love alarm ring. Besides, I don’t think I’d be the type of guy to get attracted to someone at first glance. I don’t believe in love at first sight.” And someone who’s married at that. If Levi had something in his mouth then as that thought ran through his mind, he was sure he would have choked. He was more grateful than ever that he hadn’t started eating.

“But, we saw it already… The application was giving the same reading and when we were walking too… It never stopped ringing…” Hange explained. Still she looked like she was still finding the right words.

Levi understood her clearly though. “Hange, are you in love with me?”

Hange turned a bright red. “What? No, I'm married. Also, we just met and I don’t believe in love at first sight either”

“So do you believe there’s a bug?”

Hange nodded. “Maybe? Or maybe the data you put into the application was flawed. Maybe there are things that need to be improved.”

“That is a good point. So what do you suggest then Hange?”

“I’ll help you research. I pitched this application to Zeke because I wanted to try rolling something out similar to hospitals, psychiatric units. And if he invests maybe we could improve the application, work to make it more accurate?”

“That’s the plan. But he said so himself, he’s not going to invest in the application until the bug is fixed.”

“But what if it is working as expected… What if it’s just a matter of fixing the data?” Hange looked out the window, seeming deep in thought. Levi wondered if that last question had been for him or for herself.

“I can do further testing on this. Just to make sure,” Levi said. “The problem is… How are you gonna convince Zeke to invest in this?”

Hange sighed. “I guess it's going to be a question of timing. I'll catch him when he's in a good mood and--”

“Hange, are you willing to admit to your husband that you might just be attracted to some stranger?”

That shouldn't have been such a difficult thing. He had heard before of married couples who window shopped so Levi amended that question in his mind.

Are you willing to admit to your seemingly unhinged husband that you might just be attracted to some stranger?

***

Sometimes, the only way to find the bug is to break the application.

Levi and Hange got caught in the lunch time rush. But Hange wasn’t a typical worker, Levi wasn’t a typical eight to five employee either.

So Levi saw opportunity for a little test. “Open your love alarm,” he whispered. He put one earbud to his ear, motioning for Hange to do the same. He turned on the application once again, letting the shill ring grace his ears one again.

It was annoying at first, but over time, he had started to see it as an old friend. He was far from the denial stage already and he was already threading the lines of acceptance.

He was a developer. He had fucked up the coding and a bug had appeared. And that issue, it was a bug for sure, a bug he needed to investigate.

And any opportunity for data and evidence, was an opportunity he couldn’t waste.

“We walk through the lunch crowd,” Levi said. “Usually when I walk through, I get two to three rings. Sometimes more. There have been issues before that getting too many at once, sometimes the application would conceal all the hearts and the only way to get it to work again is to reset the application.”

“So what do we do?” Hange asked.

“Turn on your application and we walk through the crowds,” Levi repeated matter-of-factly.

The crowds around him though were disconcerting and he could understand how Hange would have needed some guidance then.

What did she know about testing? When Levi asked himself that question, he started to pick out another question too. What did he know about testing?

He was an engineer and he had been working with applications for years. He had experienced a lot about testing. But he had never experienced testing with a customer married to one of the biggest opportunities of a company and being accused of being in love with her by his own brain child.

He was treading unfamiliar grounds.

The ringing of the alarm was always unsettling at first. By the fifth ring, it always found a rhythm. Or maybe it was his own brain that found rhythm in it.

And he walked to that rhythm, he pushed past the crowds to that rhythm and every two to three rings, he would take a glance to see Hange beside him, her face had settled to some rhythm too. Sometimes, she would look back at him, other times she would look behind her, as if she suspected someone had set her alarm off.

But he had become part of her rhythm too. From his peripherals, he could see she snuck glances at him. Very quick glances that Levi had been perceptible, invested enough to notice.

They could have been walking for five minutes, or maybe even ten. Soon, Levi realized, the love alarm had embedded itself into the background noise, an annoying ring amid faint voices, conversations, public announcements.

It had only seemed loud once again when the street had opened up to an open space at the center.

In front of them was an empty park, and it usually was empty when the lunch crowds had made their way back to their offices. Levi had worked there long enough to know.

The chaos of the alarm had subsided into one noise. He turned to Hange to see that she was looking up at the sky then, one hand over her forehead, shading the view from the bright afternoon sun.

The light from the sun had done wonders to make her cheeks look a bright pink and for a second or so, Levi just stared, long enough for Hange to have noticed. Or maybe it was her plan to look to him eventually.

“Did it stop?” Levi asked as soon as he became aware of those hazel eyes on him. He averted his gaze and looked around the empty park. Nobody should be ringing his alarm. Nobody should be ringing her alarm. But them.

It should have been a win-win situation. If that had worked to break the application, Levi could have clocked that as the bug and investigated that instead. If it worked as expected, if the two applications continued to ring, then maybe it was working.

His alarm was still ringing. He did a thorough 360 of the park. No one was near enough to even meet the ten meter radius. Just to be sure though he turned to Hange. “Anyone around our ten meter radius?”

The park was empty save for one old man on a bench a good distance away, definitely more than ten meters. He hoped it had sounded like a redundant question.

Hange shook her head. “Nobody. But the application is still ringing.”

“Did it stop at all? During the walk?”

Once again, Hange shook her head.

Levi took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders back. “Erwin gave me a week to figure this out. I’ll do some of my own personal investigation after this.”

“Hey, I’ll do what I can too. I really want you to get those funds.” Hange took her hands in his and Levi had half the mind to pull away. If her hands weren’t so soft and maybe a little too warm even for a cool spring day.

Levi had been almost disappointed when Hange dropped his hand and turned back to her phone. Just ‘almost’ though. They just met, he couldn’t be too invested in hands.

So he thought back once again to backend work to the numbers that made up the love alarm. And he thought of Hange’s little suggestion. “You said something about flawed data right?”

***

“My plan is I’m gonna see if I can convince Zeke to take up that love alarm,” Hange said.

“No need to hurry. I have a week to get it working,” Levi muttered. He wasn’t looking at Hange then. His laptop was propped on his lap and he was looking through open support tickets.

They had a support team and being a developer, answering customer queries wasn’t his job. At that rate though, he was looking for anything to keep him busy. Zeke would be coming to pick up Hange and the last thing he wanted to be was free enough to stare at them.

“I have some books on love, I could send them over,” Hange suggested

Levi looked up from his laptop. The support ticket on ‘how to download the app’ was not very interesting after all and he found reason once again to stare at Hange’s bright hazel eyes. “Why would I need books about love?”

“You seem… inexperienced with love?” Hange started. She seemed unsure with that answer.

“Inexperienced with love?” Levi narrowed his eyes at her.

“Allergic to love,” Hange repeated. “so I thought it might help if you read on them.”

“Why would you care if I read them?”

“If we’re gonna work together to improve the accuracy of your alarm, I think you should learn. I’ll do my part too. I’ll learn a bit of coding.”

Levi shrugged. “Send them over then. I’ll look through them if I have time. First things first, I need to get a little more testing done.”

“They might be useful for testing. Or maybe they’ll be able to help you pick out which sensations in particular point to love.”

“I loaded the data. I would know,” Levi said.

Hange raised one eyebrow at him in playful suspicion. It had done some magic in helping Levi recall that all he remembered were the numbers and some hints about sweating, palpitations and some quickening paces. But machines had a tendency of learning more about the users over time.

“Maybe I’ll read one or two before bed," he added a second later.

“Great. Then I’ll do my homework too. I’ll see what I can get from Zeke. Hopefully I can convince him to invest, even with the bug.”

“You have my number---” Just update me. Before Levi could let those words out, he had fallen back into that support ticket about that one person not knowing how to download the application.

It was still a boring and stupid support ticket. But when Zeke had padded into the lobby like he owned the place with a butler in tow, Levi decided that the idiot of a ticket was still a better view than Zeke at that moment.

“Thank you for picking me up,” Hange said in an almost melodic tone, a tone that made Levi’s ears bleed.

“My meeting ended early and I don’t think we had a good dinner since last week. What did you have for lunch?”

“Burgers and fries.”

“Burgers and fries? Hange, I gave you more than enough money for a good meal." Zeke sounded mortified.

Levi froze. He had suggested the diner for its strategic location. He found himself running his right hand slowly over his wallet in his front pocket. He was sure he had the money for anything more expensive.

“It was good.”

“Well, I’ll make sure we get something better tonight. There’s a new restaurant, just outside town, they sell the pink fatty tuna and Kobe beef imported straight from Japan, same day shipping apparently so it’s definitely the freshest we can get here. What do you think?”

“That sounds great,” Hange said.

She had said it in such a tone, a tone she had never used with Levi before. Like she was tasting the food as she spoke of it. Of course she wouldn’t use it on you. You just met her. Levi thought to himself. As he willed himself to get back to his senses, he realized the ticket was still untouched. Although he had been staring at it since a while ago, he hadn’t made any progress at all.

He looked up at Hange then at Zeke. “Apologies for only taking her to a diner. Next time, I’ll make sure to take her somewhere a little…” Rich, expensive, snazzy, exclusive, snobby?  Too many adjectives were running through his head then but Levi settled for something seemingly more professional, or as professional as he could go. “More your tastes.”

“That would be very much appreciated,” Zeke said. He took one of Levi’s hands in his, too suddenly and too forcefully that Levi had to smack his laptop to keep it balanced on his lap. “Thank you again for taking very good care of my Hange here.” He had slipped a hundred dollar bill in between Levi’s hands and maybe he had expected Levi to smile and say ‘thank you.’

And most days, Levi was polite enough to have mustered one but his ears were still ringing, not from hearing the love alarm non stop that day but from those last words Zeke had said.

My Hange.

Hange waved, motioning with her hands to ‘text soon,’ then she turned her back on him.

Levi couldn't’ even get a good view of Hange as she walked away. Soon enough, Zeke had wrapped one arm around her shoulders. From Levi's angle, he couldn’t tell whether Hange had pushed closer to him or Zeke was the one who pulled her closer.

For a second longer, he pondered it. Of course Zeke would pull her closer, that’s his Hange. Of course Hange would move closer to him, she’s his.

Levi looked back at the support ticket, he had opened again.

How to download application. Please help.

He closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa. He closed all his open tabs before laying his eyes again on the empty draft.

Within seconds, he had closed that tab as well. There were larger issues then than a customer not being able to download an application.

***

Hange had sent books about love in a drive folder and she had emailed it to him. When Levi opened it, he was quick to figure out, they were all self help books

Scott Peck? He could have sworn he had heard that name somewhere and when he opened it, he found the book was hundreds of pages long. He didn’t have the attention span for that.

Maybe I’ll read one or two before bed. He had promised Hange that evening. But he didn’t actually have to read it right?

So instead, Levi googled the summary.

Genuine love is volitional rather than emotional. The person who truly loves does so because of a decision to love. This person has made a commitment to be loving whether or not the loving feeling is present. ...Conversely, it is not only possible but necessary for a loving person to avoid acting on feelings of love.

Levi was quick to close it after that. If that concept of love was real, that would defeat the whole purpose of the love alarm. The last thing he had wanted to do so late at night was invalidate his own brain child.

“Book one for the night. Done,” Levi whispered to himself as he opened the next book on file.

Before you love others, you must learn to love yourself.

“Cliche,” Levi said. But soon after reading it, he turned back to the application on his phone. He turned it on to see an empty blue screen void of hearts. There wouldn’t be hearts, he was alone in his apartment.

He thought back to Hange’s mention of flawed data. He thought back to the alarm that wouldn’t stop ringing. They had been testing it that whole day, there was nothing wrong with the application and the developer in Levi knew there weren't any glaring bugs.

But the testing would continue. He hadn’t completely tested all the scenarios after all. The alarm ringed with Hange but would it have alarmed with anybody else? His five years worth of experience testing the application told him 'no.'

Or maybe he just hadn’t been actively looking for the right people.

Even at night, the gears in his mind managed to turn and soon, he had a plan albeit a vague one. But the first few steps were clear at least. Levi navigated to his play store and typed a few words on the screen. A few minutes later, he was downloading an application with a familiar flame icon on the screen.

He took a deep breath. "This is part of the testing process," he muttered to himself. He was gonna be spending the whole night swiping.

[nineteenninety-six]

A Tragic Birthday

REQUEST: Could you do an imagine where the reader is a Shelby sister and Tommy’s favourite sibling and one day a deal goes wrong or something and she dies but kinda how grace died, in Tommy’s arms and it’s all hectic. Thanks:)

I was going to take a little break (only to the weekend) because tumblr was stressing me out and annoying me but when I started this, I couldn’t stop and I don’t like sitting on fics.

TW: Death

WORD COUNT: 2681

[PART TWO]

It was (Y/N)’s eighteenth birthday coming up in a week and it was safe to say that she was excited. (Y/N) had been looking forward to that day since her older brother Tommy had promised her a large party to celebrate the year before, and now that it was literally only days away she couldn’t stop buzzing about it, no doubt irritating her older siblings.

(Y/N) was the youngest of the Shelby siblings, a few years younger than Finn and was primarily raised by her Aunt Polly and her eldest brothers Arthur and Tommy. (Y/N) and Tommy were the closest between the siblings and had a special bond, that none of the others could replicate with their youngest sibling but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t close to her other siblings, because she was. In fact, it could be said that she had a special thing with each of her siblings; with Ada, they were close because they were the only girls in the family, Finn was the closest in age to her and they grew up as each other’s best friend, Arthur was the closest thing to a father she had and (Y/N) knew if she needed comforting then he would be the person she went to and John was someone she could rant to without judgment and he was always willing to help her out whenever she got in a sticky situation.

But the bond (Y/N) had with Tommy was different and there was no doubt that they were each other’s, favourite siblings. When their mother had died, Tommy had taken on the role as her primary caretaker, he changed her nappies, bottle-fed her and pretty much did anything a father would do. Polly had told her about how when she was a baby, Tommy would get a large piece of fabric and wrap her in it and secure her to his chest so that her cheeks rested on his chest because she would cry whenever she wasn’t being held by him and that it allowed him to keep her calm and content while he got some work done.

Just as much as (Y/N) hated being away from Tommy, Tommy hated being away from (Y/N) just as bad. He was overly protective when she was born, only allowing his Aunt Polly to get involved and help him out because despite thinking he knew everything, Tommy most definitely did not know how to handle a baby, especially not a newborn but he learnt and adapted and became a dad to her.

(Y/N) were three when Arthur, Tommy and John had to leave and go to war and Tommy to this day still has nightmares of how she screamed and cried to the point where she was almost sick at the train platform where he and the hundreds of other men from Small Heath were leaving from. (Y/N) didn’t understand what war was or why were her brothers were leaving but she did understand that her Tommy was leaving and she hated it.

Tommy had made a thousand promises to (Y/N) as he held her in his arms that day on the platform, repeatedly promising to come back alive and well and that he would never abandon her again and Tommy wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to keep them but he made it his goal to come back to her and the rest of his family.

But he didn’t break those promises and four years later, he was sobbing into the dress of a seven-year-old (Y/N), who was crying just as hard into his neck. The only time (Y/N) ever left Tommy’s arms the rest of that day was to hug her other brothers but other than that, (Y/N) was stuck to Tommy’s side. She was silent at first, slightly awkward around her brother who she hadn’t seen in years but it didn’t take long for her to become comfortable and start to quietly mutter into Tommy’s ear about everything he had missed whilst he was away and Tommy sat there in shock as she did so, marvelling at how much his little girl has grown. When he had left, she had just started to string sentences together but now she could speak in full sentences and was chatty, something he guessed she picked up from Ada.

That night as (Y/N) was curled up into a ball asleep beside him, Tommy cried once again. He was glad he was back home and alive but he knew nothing was going to be the same anymore but he was determined to keep things as normal as possible for her whilst she grew up and he was going to create a good life and world for her to live in.

And now eleven years after he’s returned home from the war, he’s pushed all his work to the side to prepare for the birthday of his little munchkin. Tommy had been dealing with an issue for the past week which involved one of his clients thinking he was overpaying for the Peaky Blinders services and was now demanding a refund. One that obviously Tommy refused to give.

Tommy called in the person who had knocked on the door, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork he was looking through.

“Hello to you too, Tommy.” The person said as they stepped into the office, moving to sit in one of the chairs that sat in front of Tommy’s desk.

Tommy grinned when they spoke up, instantly recognising the voice,

“Good morning (Y/N), what have I done to be blessed with your presence this early in the morning?”

“I have the finalised cost list for the party.” Tommy pushed his other work to the side and took the piece of paper from (Y/N)’s fingers and skimmed his eyes over it, letting out a low whistle at the final amount,

“You plan on bleeding me dry eh?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and smiled, “Don’t even try it. I know my party costs less than what the Garrison re-opening did.”

“How do you know how much the Garrison cost?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“I just do.” (Y/N) raised her eyebrows, a smug look on her face.

“Stop tricking Arthur into letting you see the company files” Tommy pointed a non-threating finger at his youngest sister who only rolled her eyes.

(Y/N) bit her lip in nervousness before she spoke up, “It’s not too expensive, is it? I can remove some stuff if you want!”

Tommy got up from his seat and walked around his desk and leant on it, patting (Y/N) on the head, “It’s not expensive, don’t worry, I was only teasing I’m sorry. You don’t turn eighteen everyday eh?”

“You’re the best Tommy!” (Y/N) leapt up and tightly hugged her brother.

“I know.”

Tommy laughed at (Y/N)’s scoff.

“Any plans for today?” Tommy asked as he went back around his desk and sat back down.

“Ada’s taking me down to London to pick up my dress.”

“Hmm, spending the whole day?”

“I think so. I mean we might as well. Karl and Finn are coming along too so we should be able to find something to do.” (Y/N) made her way to the door.

“Have fun.”

“Will do!” She called over her shoulder as she left his office

It was the day before (Y/N)’s birthday and the clients of Tommy’s that thought they were being scammed have only become an irritant to Shelby brothers, making threats and destroying property has become their form of revenge and attention-grabbing at the moment but none of them could do anything at that moment, all three of them making a promise to their youngest sister not to do anything gang related on the day off or the day before her birthday. (Y/N) desperately not wanting her birthday to be ruined and her brother understood and promised her that they wouldn’t. It was bugging Tommy that he had to wait on retaliating on them but he told himself years ago that his family came above everything else, especially his (Y/N).

On the morning of her birthday, (Y/N) slipped out of her bed and crawled into Tommy’s, his arm automatically wrapping her shoulder as she curled into his side. This was a semi-common occurrence between the two of them, originating from when Tommy started to try and put (Y/N) in her own bed in her own room for the night when she was a year old but it only took a few hours before (Y/N) was climbing out of her bed or Tommy himself took her back to his room. Though it had become less of a thing as (Y/N) grew up as her room was pretty much the only place that she could get peace and quiet and privacy from her wild family. (Y/N)’s room became her sanctuary.

“Good morning, Tommy!” (Y/N) chirped

“G’morning princess.” Tommy lit himself a cigarette, “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

“Here.” Tommy had pulled out a jewellery box from the draw in his bedside table and held it out to her.

“What’s this?” (Y/N) didn’t open the box straight away.

“My gift to you.”

“I thought the party was your gift to me”

“Take the gift (Y/N) or I’ll throw it in the bin.”

“Alright alright, christ almighty.”

(Y/N) slowly opened the box and gasped at what laid inside. It was a diamond necklace, simple yet elegant. Exactly (Y/N)’s style.

“Oh, Tommy. It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

“Glad you like it. Now get washed and dressed, I’m still taking you out for brunch.”

(Y/N) quickly kissed his cheek and left his room, not wanting to delay.

After their brunch, (Y/N) spent the rest of the day getting ready for the party and running around fretting about the smallest things, only settling down after a threat from Ada. After several impatient shouts from John and Finn, (Y/N) was finally making her way downstairs to the rest of her family who made of a series of appreciative noises when they saw her, causing her to smile.

“You look wonderful darling.” Polly walked over to her and gave her a hug before leading her outside and towards the Garrison where the party was being held, the rest of the family following behind them.

“How’s your day been so far?” Polly asked her.

“Good! Brunch with Tommy was great as per usual.” (Y/N) grinned.

(Y/N) usually had brunch with Tommy and then dinner with the rest of her family on her birthday but because this year was slightly different, they were doing dinner the next day.

“I’m glad.” Polly patted her hands and they continued their journey with small nonsense chatter, Ada and Esme quickly joining in.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived, drinks were being passed around and the music was pounding and as soon as she stepped foot into the pub, (Y/N) was dragged away by her friends, the bunch of them squealing and giggling. Tommy and his brothers were sat on a table tucked away but placed somewhere where they can see pretty much the whole room but despite that, they couldn’t see who had slipped into the pub.

Tommy too deep into conversation with Jeremiah Jesus and one too many drinks deep meant that he didn’t notice that something was up until the music suddenly stopped and screams erupted, and as he looked up to see what was happening, his blood ran cold at what he saw.

His little sister trapped in the arms of the client that was pissed off at him, with his gun held to her temple. The man wasn’t by himself, he had brought along two other men. (Y/N) was frozen in shock, afraid that one small mistake would result in her getting hurt.

Tommy slowly stood up and noticed his brothers and other Peaky Blinders do the same thing, each of them pulling out their guns. They easily outnumbered the three men but that didn’t matter as Tommy’s top priority was (Y/N)’s safety

“Thomas Shelby! We’re tired of being taken advantage of by people like you. We’ll have it no more!” One of the men shouted.

“Okay, alright. I hear you. Let’s talk, okay? But before that, I’m going to need you to let all these people go okay, they’re innocent.” Tommy gestured to people plastered to the walls of the Garrison, (Y/N)’s friends crying.

The man nodded and everyone quickly ran out, the only people left in the pub being Tommy, Arthur, John, Finn, Polly, Ada and Michael.

“Now, let the woman in your arms go. She’s just a teenager.”

The leader was the man holding (Y/N) and hesitated before he stood his ground, “No! If I let her go then you’ll just kill me. I want my money back Shelby!”

Arthur grumbled unhappily and shifted, causing Tommy to hold out his arm in warning.

“If you let her go we won’t.” Tommy placed his gun on the table as a sign of truce, “Just let her go.”

The man slowly nodded and loosened his grip allowing (Y/N) to slip through a take a slow step forward, sobs spilling through her lips. “You’re alright, you’re fine. C’mon.” Tommy held out his arms for (Y/N) and took a step towards her.

“No! Stop letting him win, it’s not fair!” One of the man’s sidemen shouted in rage before a loud bang sounded.

The room was silent as everyone tried to understand what had happened and it was until stuttered gasps left (Y/N) did Tommy understand what had happened.

“No!” Tommy raced over to (Y/N) and caught her in his arms just as her legs buckled.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.” Tommy slowly lowered himself to ground with her in his arms. (Y/N)’s blood spilling through her dress and on to him.

“(Y/N), n-no p-please. O-oh god no”

(Y/N) let out a soft noise of distress as Tommy harshly pressed on the bullet wound.

“I know precious, I know it hurts but I have to do it.” Tommy didn’t even realise he was crying until (Y/N) gently flinched when a tear fell on her face.

“Polly! Polly help!” Tommy heard the clicking of his aunt’s heels before he felt her pushing his hands away. “Polly-- no I’ve got to help her”

“Tommy, let me check on her okay?” His aunt convinced him to move away so check on (Y/N)

Tommy had been so engrossed with (Y/N) that he had no idea what going elsewhere until a hand on his shoulder brought him out of his trance. It was Arthur and John was right behind him, both had blood splattered on them. Finn was crouched down by (Y/N)’s head softly brushing her hair back as he whispered into her ear, Tommy could see the tears slowly sliding down his face.

“Tommy” His aunt had a defeated look on her face and slowly shook her head.

“No! You’re wrong!” Tommy pushed past his aunt and shoved Finn aside so that he could fully bring (Y/N) into his arms, slowly rocking for side to side, loudly sobbing.

(Y/N) was in too much pain to speak and used the remnants of her energy to squeeze Tommy’s hand as tight as she could before she finally passed.

Tommy felt (Y/N) slightly slump in his arms and knew what had happened, letting a loud cry of pain. Tommy heard the cries and shouts and tears of his family around him but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, he was too wrapped up in the pain of his youngest sister that was more like a daughter to him an how her death was his fault.

His darling girl was dead.

[hibisha]

Hello, a friend of yours said you might be able to recommend some radiodust fanfics, and it can be anything im not picky

RadioDust fanfics you say? Alright *cracks knuckles* here we go.

1.) The Charismatic Cannibal’s Guide to Self Care

Rating: E

Summary: Alastor chuckled around a hand. Angel would never get over how shark-like he could look. Fangs were the norm here, but Alastor’s had a certain animal quality that fit strangely in a humanoid face. Too big and too many. And right now they were tinged with a hint of red from his choice of drink.

“So what,” he said, “would liven up the place for you, sport?”

You might assume that Angel Dust is the bad influence in every situation. You would be wrong.

The Radio Demon has plans for Hell, and plans for Angel. And they aren't pretty.

Will contain gore/cannibalism/murder and plenty of fun, bad people. Please read the tags and content warning. Plot now, smut to follow.

Personal thoughts: It only one chapter so far but I really like the premise.

2.) Their Arrangement

Rating: E

Summary: Alastor and Angel Dust have come to an agreement after Angel pushes the Radio Demon's buttons a little too far and inadvertently awakens the long forgotten urges buried under decades of bloodlust.

Personal thoughts: One of my literal favorites. Alastor and Angel’s evolving relationship from sex friends to ‘oh shit I have feelings’ *chef’s kiss*.

3.) Absolute Territory

Rating: E

Summary: Angel Dust is an absolute terror for Absolute Territory.

Alastor never knew he had a thing for stockings until Angel decides to flaunt a pair, matched with a pleated skirt and an oversized sweatshirt.

Personal thoughts: Have some good ol’ smut.

4.) Heart Between His Teeth

Rating: E

Summary: So maybe there are better things to life than being drugged and fucked so hard you can't even think for yourself.

Personal thoughts: OMFG. I CAN NOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS FIC.

5.) Angel Dust’s Not So Illustrious Life

Rating: T

Summary: Alastor isn’t sure why he’s become Angel’s primary target, but the more he attempts to dissuade Angel’s advances, the more fervent they seem to become.

And maybe Alastor likes that...maybe...Yet it seems there’s more to Angel than innuendos and a quick romp.

Personal thoughts: I kinda love this fic a lot where Angel and Alastor respect each other’s boundaries.

6.) Caught In His Own Web

Rated:E

Summary: "So when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never. Because the dance with the devil might last you forever."

Redemption is hard when you don't want to do it. Redemption is even harder when a certain Radio Demon keeps enabling your sinful behavior.

Personal thoughts: My favourite trope, bad people being worse together.

7.) I Thought I Knew You 

Rated: M

Summary: Angel Dust can't ruin the hotel's reputation if he can't go outside. Or, at least, that's what Alastor says. Of course, it's all a ploy to torture Alastor's least favorite spider demon, but maybe he doesn't know Angel Dust as well as he thinks he does.

Personal thoughts: I really like this one especially since it feeds into my “Alastor is a dick in all AUs.”

8.) Sex, drugs and radio host

Rating: E

Summary: For some ungodly reason, Alastor decides to keep Angel safe and sound - meaning no sex, prostitution and certainly no drugs. Of course, this wild idea is met with more than a little resistance. But... no one ever cared if Angel was safe. And sometimes, all he would like is a hug. Sex sure is nice, but he is more than willing to explore the possibilities.

The trouble is, it doesn't seem like Alastor is offering anything specific. Keeping things strange and vague is not helping, especially when a new guest catches Alastor's attention.

Personal thoughts: Its cute and theres feelings involved is all I’m saying.

9.) Gentleman's Wager 

Rating: None

Summary: Sick of listening to Angel Dust's crass and vulgar language, Alastor makes a bet with him. If Angel Dust can remain absolutely silent for one whole week, he'll give in and kiss him.

Personal thoughts: *inhales* JVKJGCHJCHJCVJHVJHGCJHCJHCGFD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH PLEASE READ IT.

10.) Triggered 

Rating: None

Summary: Angel Dust had never really thought too much about the static hum surrounding Alastor wherever he went... until now anyway.

Personal thoughts: It's a very good fic about ANgel dealing with PTSD. Def check it out.

11.) Dinner and Drinks 

Rating: None

Summary: Alastor and Angel Dust can barely tolerate each other and Charlie seeks to fix that.

Personal thoughts: Again, a slow development of Angel and Alastor’s relationship.

12.) You Do Something to Me 

Rating: T

Summary: Alastor's radio signals go both ways, and for the past few decades he's tuned into the most beautiful voice. What a surprise to find the source in the Happy Hotel right under his nose.

A relationship that grows through music.

Personal thoughts: AGAIN, PLEASE READ THIS IT IS CUTE HECK AND WILL CLEAR YOUR SKIN. Also, its part 2: No One Knows Anything But Us 

13.) 1932

Rating: M

Summary: The 1930s are the for perfect time to nurture any up-and-coming radio host or serial killer alike. Alastor is no exception.

Set in New Orleans in 1932, Alastor is living his best life. Broadcaster by day and home chef by night, he's learned that Jumbalaya is best served with a side of human liver and a still beating heart. That is until he brings the wrong meal to his table, a member of the Italian mafia, and ends up biting off more than he can chew.

With his latest meal escaping the table and his identity running the risk of being found out, Alastor faces his biggest hunt yet. The streets of New Orleans are his forest and this time, it's his head on the platter.

AKA Alastor screws up and now has to fix his mess in Dixieland while balancing his day job, cannibalistic hunger, and learn how to be a decent human being for once along the way. Should be fun.

Personal thoughts: I absolutely adore this fic. Please give it a shot.

14.) Contracts and Deals Series

Rating: E

Summary: Angel Dust, Hell's number one porn actor.

Alastor, Hell's most renowned overlord.

The two cross paths.

Angel makes a deal with Alastor to get out of his contract with Valentino. One thing leads to another.

Personal thoughts: It’s a good series that eventually gets really fluffy.

15.) Good Management

Rating: M

Summary: Alastor thought he had Angel Dust filed away into his niche box in the Hotel. He was wrong. But he's a good enough manager to fix his responsibilities.

Personal thoughts: Its AngeliaDark. You know it’s good.

16.) Anything for you

Rating: M

Summary: Valentino faces the consequences of hurting someone that Alastor deeply favors

i.e. Val fucking dies

Personal thoughts: Any fic where Val dies is a good fic.

17.) Predator and Prey

Rating: M

Summary: Every couple of years, Angel Dust goes through a change that makes him a lot less tolerable to be around, for many more reasons than one. The staff of the Hotel are about to learn that the hard way, none more so than Alastor.

Personal thoughts: Okay so, slight dubcon, would recommend checking the tags before going into it. Though I love how it tackles on the story of Alastor being a deer which is technically a prey animal and Angel being the predator for once. Absolutely love it.

18.) Good Tidings 

Rating: T

Summary: A Christmas party in Hell isn't the big selling point for the Happy Hotel (For Hazbins), but Charlie feels that the holiday season is just what her friends need to open up to and help one another.

So what better way to do it than with a Secret Santa?

When Angel Dust draws none other than his crush, the Radio Demon, he knows he has one shot to not eff it up.

Personal thoughts: Really fluffy, a good read. Highly recommend it.

19.) Vanilla Bean

Rating: T

Summary: Alastor decides to try his hand at pet names and inadvertently offends Angel Dust. Rated T for swearing and there's suggestive content if you close one eye, tilt your head, and squint.

Personal thoughts: Okay so i loved this one because of how badly these two handle communication.

20.) For Auld Lang Syne, My Dear

Rating: M

Summary: Alastor's solitude is interrupted by Angel Dust who has just escaped a rough client and the two spend the last moments of 2019 together.

Personal thoughts: Love love love this. I just love Angel and Alastor dancing together okay.

21.) I Like It Better When I'm With You 

 Rating: M

Summary: Angel deals with feelings. Alastor deals with feelings. Just a whole lot of pining.

Personal thoughts: Summary says it all.

22.) Technical Difficulties

Rating: M

Summary: The hotel is running relatively well. Relationships between Alastor and the rest of the staff are budding surprisingly smoothly. And then the rainfall starts up, threatening all of it.

Alastor's out of tune.

Personal thoughts: I love how this is written. Slowburn but worth it.

23.) Lurking in the Shadows 

Rated M

Summary: 5 instances where a curious and head-over-heels shadow follows Angel Dust around and 1 time where Angel decides to follow it instead.

Personal thoughts: It’s very cute how Alastor’s shadow pines after Angel.

24.) Crossroads

Rating: M

Summary: A mafioso’s and a murderous radio star’s paths collide in New Orleans in the winter of 1933.

Personal thoughts: OKAY SO I REALLY LOVE THIS BECAUSE HUMAN AUS ARE MY JAM AND THEN ALASTOR AND ANGEL BEING TERRIBLE HUMANS TOGETHER IS EVEN BETTER.

25.) Needle Through a Bug

Rating: E

Summary: Angel wakes up in a hospital after a party. His doctor is very strange, worryingly so. Still, he can't help but be intrigued.

Personal thoughts: Doctor AU. Alastor is insane. I love it because Alastor manages to be as creepy as possible while saving lives.

26.) My Roommate's a Demonic Deer 

 Rating: M

Summary: Don't you hate it when you "accidentally" summon a demon to fix a problem within your home, only to find out that they don't do that, so now you're stuck with a cannibalistic demon that constantly tracks blood onto the floor, brings other unholy beings into your apartment, and makes amazing jambalaya? It's amazing insanity!

Personal thoughts: Lmao I love demon summoning gone wrong so this was really an amazing read. Angel being a true himbo is always the best.

27.) Human Hazbin Roommates AU series

Rating: E, M

Summary: A series of porny RadioDust one-shots depicting modern human AU roommate life.

Notes:

Glimpses into the human lives of insufferable roommates.

(AKA This was supposed to be a practice at writing present tense smut and it devolved into sex and feelings)

Personal thoughts: Dive in for the smut, come out with the feels.

28: Darker Side of Hell series

Rating: E

Summary: Follow Charlie and later Alastor as part of my Story for the Hazbin hotel... It ain't pretty, so enjoy!

Personal thoughts: Not everyone’s cup of tea so i suggest reading the tags but I really love this series a lot. Angel being awkward and in love is the best shit ever. Its an amazing series.

29.) Scorched, Uninhabited, Rejected

Rating: M

Summary: When Hell suddenly loses all working functions, and angels start dropping from their overhead perches to attack the underworlds population, Charlie has no idea what to do before she's suddenly face to face with a Archangel. Though something, clearly, isn't right about the air the angel assures her to keep those who are dear tucked tightly by her side as the disaster struggles to fix itself.

But nothing is as it seems, Overlords' powers are dwindling and even her own is becoming strained as she struggles to protect her beloved hotel and friends from the Exterminators outside.

Personal thoughts: *vibrates* Can’t say much without spoilers so I’m just gonna beg ya all to read this.

30.) The Thin Line

Rating: None

Summary: Studies say it takes fifty hours of interaction before you consider someone a casual friend and two hundred to be a close friend. Alastor and Angel Dust manage to skip right past close friends to something more without either even noticing they've crossed the line.

31.) La Vie En Rose

Rating: G

Summary: Alastor learns that Angel is afraid of thunderstorms, and Angel in turn learns about the Radio Demon.

32.) falling 

Rating: M

Summary: "You're hot as fuck, be my boyfriend."

That was perhaps the worst thing he could've possibly said from that standpoint.

A college setting where Angel gets suddenly awful at flirting when it comes to the face of his crush, a cute library assistant that goes by Alastor.

Personal thoughts: COLLEGE AU COLLEGE AU. 

33.) Old Habits Die Hard

Rating: G

Summary: Angel decides to bring back a little habit of his after having a rough time.

Personal thoughts: Hella soft, please read.

34.) Handwritten 

Rating: None

Summary: Alastor imagines Angel must be lonely in heaven, he writes to keep him company.

 A series of letters addressed to Angel.

Personal thoughts: Hi, do you like crying into your pillow at 2 AM? You do? The look no further, this is the fic for you! Now, with extra heart wrenching feels!

35.) Relapse and Recovery

Rating: T

Summary: Going clean was never going to be easy, but easy was something Angel Dust never expected going into this anyway. At least he has a good support system to help him along the way.

Personal thoughts: I just really like AngeliaDark’s fics okay.

36.) Catalyst

Rating: T

Summary: All couples have their downfalls, and an event that should have been celebrated only drives Alastor and Angel Dust apart.

Personal thoughts: Love love love this. It’s very well written, reads easy and you’ll feel fluffy for days.

37.) Dinner Date: A RadioDust Tale

Rating: E

Summary: Angel Dust finally finds a way to get Alastor to agree to a 'date'. After all, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Sometimes literally.

Personal thoughts: One of my favourite stories about RadioDust.

38.) This One's Dedicated to [static interruption]

Rating: M

Summary: A couple of years since the hotel's opening, the residents have settled down into a fairly tolerable routine. Recently, some of them have begun experiencing peculiar symptoms which become more noticeable as time passes. To his dismay, the Radio Demon finds that he is not immune.

A chance encounter with Angel Dust propels the two demons together as they attempt to answer what's behind the unusual phenomena, while rediscovering all the things they thought dead and buried along the way.

Personal thoughts: Slowburn but definitely worth it. I love the story and how it’s progressing with a certain mystery surrounding the whole plot.

Also slight self plug I guess:

39.) 14 ways to say “I Love You”

Rating: T

Summary: Just a collection of small drabbles I’m writing on based on single word prompts.

Please check it out if you’re a fan of odd AUs.

Wowee, that’s a lot. I’m gonna call it a night and say that’s all for today. I hope you enjoy these! 

[lasting-inkpressions]

Burning Up [2/4]

Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.

Word Count: 4.1k

Prefer reading it on AO3?

It was raining heavily, the kind of rain that would drench you if you stepped out for just a second. Denali sighed as she stared out the office window, cursing herself for forgetting her umbrella at home. The weather app had warned her of the impending rain, but she’d forgotten as soon as she got a message from Rosé requesting that their morning meeting be pushed up, and so she had to rush out the house earlier than usual.

She supposed she could call an Uber, but was hesitant about spending the money. Sure Denali could afford it now with how much she made, but it was still nice knowing that she didn’t spend the extra money on that and instead saved it towards those new skates that she had been eyeing.

Collapsing into her chair, she swivelled around in it, noticing for the first time how deserted the office floor was. Checking her watch, her eyes bugged out at how late it was.

It was already well past 9pm.

Groaning, she slumped over her desk, knocking her head against it, finally feeling how exhausted she really was.

It had been a long week, and there had been a few big cases recently, meaning that there was a lot more paper work than usual. The paralegals had been running around helping out the various partners in the firm, and the managing partners themselves seemed a little bit more pressured than usual.

She remembered seeing Jan running back and forth between Lagoona and Rosé’s offices, followed by a trail of interns carrying various stacks and boxes of files. Lagoona had been the opposite, calm and collected through it all, reassuring and being a mentor to anyone who needed it on top of handling her own case load.

Rosé on the other hand had been a little on edge, as if she was the middle ground between the other managing partners, being neither frantic nor calm. She had been more restrained and quiet this week, retreating into her mind as she absorbed all the information she needed so she could plan out her courtroom strategies. Every time Denali had her morning meetings with her, or whenever she entered her office, it had been nothing but business, with almost no teasing from Rosé. At first, Denali had felt a little weirded out, then relieved at finally getting the peace and quiet she had always wanted. By the end of the week though, the blonde couldn’t help but miss their little interactions. She had actually gotten used to the banter that the two of them shared.

Burrowing her face into her arms, she pouted, thinking about how long she would have to wait for the rain to subside when she felt someone gently stroking the back of her head. Startled by the sudden touch, she looked up to find Rosé standing over her, a light frown on her face.

“Denali, what are you still doing here?”

Denali blinked, surprised that Rosé was still in the office. “Miss McCorkell! Aren’t you supposed to be at dinner with a client?” Rosé chuckled, settling herself at the edge of Denali’s desk. “Ever the diligent little secretary, aren’t you? It ended early, and I forgot something in the office. Also, you never answered my question, angel.”

And she was back with the nicknames again.

“I completed the weekly summary report not too long ago, so now I’m just waiting out the rain.”

“At this hour?”

Denali shrugged. “Catching an Uber now isn’t very economical.” Though she probably would have to give up at some point if the rain didn’t let up soon.

Rosé raised a brow. “And no plans on a Friday night? No hot date?” The younger girl couldn’t help letting out a snort before shaking her head in response. Who had time for dates when your job took up so much of your time? Rosé hummed, face carefully blank, then looked out the window at the rain. There were several beats of silence, causing Denali to squirm a little in her seat. She couldn’t tell what the other woman was thinking, and she couldn’t help but notice how close their hands were to each other, their pinkies almost touching. She quietly shifted her hands into her lap when her stomach let out a grumble, causing her to freeze and flush in embarrassment.

She probably should have eaten more than that panini for lunch.

“I’m guessing you didn’t have time for dinner again?” Denali’s brows shot up in surprise. She hadn’t expected Rosé to have noticed seeing as the older woman had been so busy herself. Rosé laughed at the expression on her face, lightly tugging at Denali’s ponytail in amusement.

“Don’t look so surprised! Of course I would have noticed that my secretary hasn’t been eating regularly for the past week.” Rosé slid off the desk and bent down to pick up both her bag and Denali’s. Smiling down at the blonde, she cocked her head towards the elevator.

“Come on baby, let’s get you some food, and then I’ll drive you home.”

Before she could even protest, Rosé had already started walking towards the lift lobby. Denali stared after the redhead, stunned for a moment before scrambling to follow her, trying to ignore how her heart was thumping just a tiny bit faster.

———

Rosé had practically herded the other girl into her car and, despite Denali’s initial protests, driven them both to a diner that was not too far from the office. There weren’t a lot of places that were still open at that hour, but The Goode Place was always open 24/7.

Careful to ensure that the both of them stayed dry, the older woman had parked her car as close to the entrance of the diner as possible and made Denali stay put while she walked over to her side with a large umbrella to shield them from the rain. Opening the door, Rosé had tugged Denali to her side, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, and had hip checked the door shut with a click, making sure that it was locked. All the while, Denali had been trying to control the blood rushing to her cheeks and her racing heart, telling herself that Rosé was just trying to make sure that the both of them stayed dry, or at least as dry as possible.

When they’d entered the diner, Rosé had let go of Denali, and the blonde quickly took a step away while the older woman shook out the umbrella and set it with the other wet ones at the entrance. Denali looked around at the interior of the diner, a little in awe at how the place looked. She had always noticed it in passing, but had never thought to set foot in it before, and now she wish she had done so sooner.

The place looked bright and colourful with a mix of retro and modern touches. There were vintage looking posters on the walls featuring old school pin up girl illustrations, bright neon lights spelling out cliched words, signed framed vinyls, eccentric decorations like flowers and vines, and the odd set of crystals with bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling. A juke box stood in the corner playing music from the 90’s, and the floors and walls were tiled in red, white, pink and blue colours.

Denali had been so enraptured by her surroundings that she hadn’t noticed how Rosé was staring at her with a small smile on her face. The older woman gently placed her hand on the small of Denali’s back and guided her to a nearby booth, and it was only then did Denali remember that she wasn’t alone, that she was there with her boss. After sitting in the booth, Rosé waved over a pretty girl with electric blue curls that was at the counter, whose face lit up in recognition and immediately bounced over with a pair of menus in hand.

“Hey there Rosé! I see you’ve brought some company this evening.” Rosé smiled back at the girl, leaning towards her and winking. “That I did, baby. Do I get a discount for bringing a new patron to this fine establishment?” The girl giggled, swatting Rosé in the arm with the menus. “Nice try, Miss Rich Bitch. Try again next time when you finally have a ring on your finger, and I’ll think about it.” Turning to Denali, the girl flashed a brilliant smile. “Nice to meet you girl, the name’s Crystal.” Denali smiled back, already taking a liking to her. “Nice to meet you! I’m Denali.”

Crystal’s brows shot up. “Denali? As in the pretty blonde secretary that Rosé is- OW!”

“Yes, she’s my secretary. And unless you want to lose the generous tip I usually give, I suggest you move on to what tonight’s specials are.”

Crystal pouted, rubbing the shin that Rosé had kicked into. “Alright, rude much.” She rattled off the specials for the night, took down their drink orders and left the two to decide what food to order. Denali opened up the menu, perusing it silently, trying not to think too much into how Crystal knew that she was Rosé’s secretary. Rosé tapped her finger on the table, already knowing what she wanted as Denali tried to decide what to eat. When Crystal came back with their drinks, they placed their food orders and then sat at the table in silence.

It felt a little awkward to Denali, being out in a public setting with her boss outside of their work hours, and having supper together at that. She wasn’t really sure how to act with the woman who signed her pay check every month combined with the fact that only up until recently, she had been harbouring nothing but frustration and a dislike towards. It was odd.

As if sensing the other girl’s inner thoughts, Rosé knocked their knees together. “What’s going on in that pretty blonde head of yours?”

Denali shrugged, playing with the straw of her drink. “It’s nothing.”

“Really? Nothing? Now why do I not believe you when you say that.”

Denali laughed under her breath, and chose to take a sip of her milkshake instead of replying her. Her eyes widened once the cold drink hit her tastebuds and she pulled away. “Oh my god, this is so good!” Rosé beamed. “Isn’t it? I discovered this place when I was still a paralegal a few years back. I haven’t been able find another place that makes as good a milkshake as this.”

Nodding in agreement, Denali happily drank more of her milkshake, oblivious to the fond smile Rosé gave her when the blonde finally relaxed.

It wasn’t too long until their food arrived, and they both ate in a more comfortable silence. In between bites, Rosé would ask Denali little questions, easy and non-intrusive ones, mindful of the fact that Denali still wasn’t entirely comfortable in her presence. It didn’t last too long though as Denali loosened up a little more, and was soon also contributing more to the conversation with her own questions. When both plates were empty and glasses drained, Rosé moved to pay for the bill, despite Denali trying to pay for her own food. Crystal had rolled her eyes at the two of them and had immediately taken Rosé’s card, ignoring Denali’s.

“Doll, if a rich woman offers to pay, just let her.” Denali pouted at Crystal and pocketed her card, ignoring the chuckles coming from Rosé. “She’s right, baby. Just listen to her.”

The blonde rolled her eyes at that, and the two of them departed, with Crystal blowing them a kiss goodbye. Thankfully, it had stopped raining and by the time they had reached Denali’s apartment, and it was a few minutes shy of midnight.

“Would you look at that? Looks like your chariot won’t turn into a pumpkin after all, Cinderella.”

Denali snorted at Rosé’s comment, biting her tongue when she instinctively wanted to make a remark, and instead smiled.

“Thank you for supper and bringing me home, I really appreciate it.”

Rosé brushed it off with a shrug. “It’s no big deal. You were working late because of me anyway, so it’s the least I could do.”

“Well, not a lot of bosses would think that way, so thank you again, Miss McCorkell.

Rosé pouted, leaning against the wheel of her car as she looked at Denali. “Oh come on Nali, after all these months together and me introducing you to New York’s finest milkshake, and you still won’t call me by my name?” Being tired from the long day and no longer as mindful of her own behaviour as she usually was, Denali couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh while unbuckling her seatbelt. She opened the door and paused for a moment, as if carefully contemplating something, before turning to look at Rosé, a playful glint in her eye.

“Good night, Rosé.”

Rosé’s mouth fell open when Denali said her name, but before the older woman could react, the blonde had shut the door and retreated to her apartment.

That night, Denali dreamed of milkshakes, jukeboxes and pink roses.

———

It was Monday morning when Denali knocked on the managing partner’s office door and let herself in, her trusty leather folio and Rosé’s usual cup of coffee in hand. She set the coffee down in its usual spot as Rosé carried on typing away at her keyboard.

“Good morning, Miss McCorkell.”

Rosé stopped typing and looked up from her laptop, a pout on her lips.

“What happened to Rosé?”

Ignoring her question with an almost affectionate roll of her eyes, Denali extracted an envelope from her folio and slid it over the desk towards Rosé. “This invitation for you was just delivered this morning.” The managing partner took one look at it and recognised the emblem. “Ah, it’s the invite for that benefit Lagoona mentioned earlier.” Deftly opening it with her fingers, she pulled out the invitation card and scanned its contents while Denali sat down in the chair opposite her, opening her folio and clicking her pen.

“I’m assuming that you will need a plus one for the benefit. Would you like me to contact Miss Sin again?”

“No need. Did you manage to get a hot date for next Friday?”

Denali raised a brow, unsure of why Rosé was asking her that. “..no?”

“Good, then you can be mine at the benefit.”

Denali had to pause for a moment, unsure about whether she heard Rosé correctly. She couldn’t have just asked Denali to be her plus one, right?

“I’m sorry, Miss McCorkell, did you just ask me to be your plus one for the benefit?” Rosé chuckled as she closed the lid of her laptop and folded her hands, a mischievous look in her eye.

“Well, I wasn’t really asking, more like I was ordering you to be my plus one.”

Denali laughed under her breath. “Of course you were.”

“What was that?”

“I said that I can’t.”

Rosé frowned, not liking her answer. “And why not? You already said that you didn’t have a hot date, and I’m assuming no other plans either.”

Well if Denali had known that Rosé was going to ask her to be her plus one, she probably would have made one up on the spot. Knowing that she was waiting for an answer, Denali wracked her brain for a quick excuse.

“..I don’t have anything to wear.”

She was an idiot.

“That’s it?”

“Also, I don’t think that it’s very appropriate for me to be your plus one when I’m your secretary.”

Rosé waved off her concern. “It’ll be fine and besides, who cares?” Denali pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling an incoming headache. “Miss McCorkell, with all due respect, I do. And again, even if I didn’t, I don’t have anything appropriate to wear for the benefit.” The redhead frowned. Denali saw that Rosé was about to argue back and quickly cut her off.

“Now, on your schedule for today…”

Rosé frowned at being stopped, but kept quiet, hands clasped as she listened to Denali, though not as intently as she normally would.

Just because she was quiet , it didn’t mean that she had accepted Denali’s rejection.

———

Heels clicking on the asphalt, Denali walked along the sidewalk and towards the boutique she had been asked to go to pick up Rosé’s new custom suit for the benefit on Friday.

It had been funny and entertaining how the days leading up to the benefit, the older woman had been constantly and relentlessly pestering Denali about being her plus one. Every single morning Rosé would ask, and every single morning Denali would say no. Sometimes the blonde would go off for an errand or two, and come back to a post it stuck on her desk asking her, and each time she would sneak the post it back onto Rosé’s desk with no as the reply. There were even attempts to bribe her with boxes of donuts, cupcakes and macarons delivered to her table, and still she said no.

Kandy had been amused at the whole situation and had asked Denali if this was their weird version of foreplay, which had earned her a well placed eraser to the forehead.

Honestly, Denali wasn’t really sure why Rosé was so determined to bring her to the benefit as her plus one. If she had needed her secretary at her side at a professional capacity, Denali would have gone for sure, but from the sounds of it and the way Rosé was asking her, it didn’t feel like it. A small, insecure part of Denali felt a little scared that the redhead was just teasing her and leading her on, which was one of the main reasons why she kept rejecting her. Denali didn’t want to just end up being another conquest for Rosé.

Not that she was looking for anything more than a professional relationship anyways.

Pushing the glass door open and sighing in relief when she felt the cool air on her skin, Denali stopped in her tracks when she saw Rosé sitting on the settee in the middle of the boutique, eyes glued to her phone.

“Miss McCorkell? What are you doing here? I thought you had a personal appointment this afternoon.”

Rosé looked up from her phone and stood up, pocketing it. “I do.” Confused, Denali furrowed her brows. “Then why are you here? Did I make a mistake about picking up your suit for you?”

“Oh no, that’s correct. You’re here to pick up my suit for me, and I’m here too pick a dress for you.”

Denali stared at Rosé’s smug face, her mind slowly processing what other woman had just said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Rosé chuckled at Denali’s expression just as a beautiful blonde woman emerged from another part of the boutique. “Rosé, the dresses that you selected are ready.” Clapping her hands, Rosé grinned at the French woman. “Excellent, thank you Nicky. Just like your name, you are an absolute doll.”

Pulling Denali over by the hand, she introduced her to the other blonde. “Nicky, this lady here is Denali, my plus one for the benefit.”

Shaken out of her stupor, Denali protested. “Wait a minute, I never agreed to be your plus one.” Rosé scoffed and looked down at Denali. “Well, the only reason you gave me for saying no was because you have nothing to wear. Now that we’re here, Nicky is going to help remedy that little problem, isn’t that right doll?” Rosé winked at Nicky. The French woman laughed, amused. “Indeed, come this way mes amours.”

Nicky led them to one of the adjoining rooms in the boutiques where there was a rack of dresses set up next to a curtained off fitting area. Rosé walked over to the rack and thumbed through the fabrics, pulling out a red dress.

“Let’s start with this one.”

What felt like hours later, Denali was tired out from trying on countless dresses, despite how hard she had tried to argue her way out of it. Both Nicky and Rosé had pointedly ignored her objections and kept pushing her back into the fitting room with a new dress to try on. With each dress she tried, Denali had noticed the price going higher and higher, with the number of digits and zeros increasing. She could probably sell one of the dresses off and have her rent taken care of for at least a year or two with the exorbitant price of each piece. She didn’t even want to think about how she’d be able to afford any of them, let alone for just one stupid night of dancing with rich snobs.

Finally, when it felt like she was about to reach her limit, Nicky had passed her a dress, assuring her that this was the one. Denali had sighed and taken it from her, drawing the curtains closed. Unzipping the blue one she had on and taking it off, she took the dress that Nicky had passed to her and finally looked at it. On the hanger, it looked like it would be a stunning floor length white strapless number, but would it be the case when it was on her?

Carefully unzipping it and taking it off the hanger, Denali stepped into it and slipped it on, frowning for a split second when she realised that she would have trouble zipping the dress up on her own. She tried to do it a number of times, but soon huffed in annoyance.

“Is anything the matter, mon cheri?”

“I’m just having some trouble zipping up. Do you think I could get some help?”

There were some quiet murmurs from outside, then the sound of the curtains opening and closing. Feeling fingers on her back, Denali brushed her hair to the side and held the dress to her chest as the the hands on her back pulled the zipper up, fingertips grazing the bare skin of her back as they did, causing her to shiver. Feeling the tug of the zip reaching the end, Denali stilled when she thought she felt lips ghost the back of her neck. Blinking in a daze, she turned around to find heated hazel eyes watching her.

Rosé was looking her over, eyes going down her body as she took in Denali’s form and how the dress looked on her before going back to her face, taking in how the blonde had a soft blush on her cheeks. Gently turning her to face the mirror, Rosé slowly tugged Denali’s hair loose from her high ponytail, letting her long blonde hair fall about her. Carefully arranging her hair to one side and tucking away an errant strand, Rosé smiled softly as they both looked at Denali’s reflection.

The dress was breathtaking on Denali, the white fabric contrasting beautifully against her tan skin. The sweetheart neckline showed off her collarbones, and the way the bodice of the dress hugged her body flattered her figure. There was a slit that stopped mid thigh that would flash her toned legs every time she took a step, further emphasised by the subtle pearl sheen. It was as if the dress was tailored just for Denali.

“Beautiful.”

Denali tore her gaze away from the reflection of the dress to Rosé’s face and felt her legs almost give way at the hungry look that was in her eyes. It looked as if the older woman wanted to swallow her whole with how close she stood to Denali, her fingers loosely curled around Denali’s wrists. She hadn’t even realised that Rosé had been touching her.

The blonde looked away after a while, not being able to stand being trapped in the heat of Rosé’s gaze any longer.

“Yes, the dress is indeed beautiful, Miss McCorkell.”

The fingers around her wrists tightened, and Denali felt a chin rest on her bare shoulder, causing her to gasp.

“I meant you, Denali. You’re beautiful.”

The air between them felt electric, and Denali was afraid to make a move, unsure about whether she wanted to break this bubble, this moment between them. As if reading her mind, Rosé’s eyes met hers in the mirror before she stepped away. Taking her by the hand, she led Denali out of the fitting room and back to the larger one. Nicky was nowhere to be seen and in her place was a small table with an assortment of jewellery laid out. Humming, Rosé examined the precious stones laid out before them, all the while rubbing slow circles onto the back of Denali’s hand, and selected a thin gold necklace with an intricate floral pendant of twisting vines and small inlaid gems. Turning the younger woman around, she fastened the necklace around Denali’s neck, all the while Rosé’s fingers were purposely grazing her skin.

Turning Denali back around to face her, Rosé smiled, a finger gently tracing the curve of Denali’s cheek.

“Perfect.”

———

I've lightly sprinkled in hints of sugar mommy Rosé in there. Very minor though because let's be honest, do you think Denali would be able to just sit still and look pretty? Yeah, no.

I might have ideas of setting up a verse of sorts to have little side stories which might even feature Crystal and Gigi because I think it'd be so cute and fluffy to have little Crygi moments of them running the diner together, but who knows.

[swordandquill]

Title: Winter Break

Fandom: Leverage

Summary: The team find themselves snowed in in a little town in the middle of nowhere.

Ch 3: Hope it’s Hallmark - The team reaches the cabin, and Hardison tries to figure out what genre of movie they're currently participating in.

Author’s Note: I might have to steal Hardison's line about the worse kind of horror move to use as a title for a Leverage ghost story someday.

You can go here to read this on AO3 instead.

Hardison knew why the light took on a red tint at night when it snowed, knew how light refraction worked, even knew the right equations to calculate the wavelengths. He still thought it was the stuff of horror movies.

“Maybe we should have slept in the airport,” he grumbled, squinting through the snowfall at the dark cabin.

Eliot stirred on his shoulder, shifting around enough that it must have jarred something, because Hardison felt him suppress a flinch before lifting his head muzzily and rubbing a hand over his face.

Hardison had lost the argument with Nate over who was driving, leaving him to switch places with the mastermind as the designated Eliot pillow. As much as he had argued, once they got going he was glad not to be the one at the wheel. The roads had been terrible, and it had taken them three times as long as it should have to get to the cabin. They had almost gotten stuck on the long drive leading up to it.

Somehow, Eliot had managed to sleep through the majority of the trip. Hardison would have loved to have said that gave him the warm fuzzies, because Eliot was not a man who gave his trust easily, but mostly it just made him worry that the hitter’s injuries were significantly worse than he had let on.

“We here?” Eliot asked groggily.

“Yeah,” Nate turned in the driver’s seat to look back at them, “Sophie and I will help Parker do a security check. You stay in the car with Hardison.”

Eliot tensed up against Hardison’s shoulder, like he was going to protest, then huffed out an irritated breath and dropped his head back down.

Hardison gave Nate a pointed look, gesturing towards Eliot with the arm that wasn’t slung around the hitters shoulders.

“He’s fine,” Nate reassured him, “the meds just took enough of the edge off for him to sleep.”

Hardison opened his mouth to argue, but Parker chose that moment to climb over all the bags and groceries piled up in the back and haul open the side door of the van. The open door let in a burst of cold wind and snow, and Hardison curled away from it, ducking his face against Eliot’s beanie.

“I’m going to pick the lock,” Parker announced cheerfully and hopped out of the van, closing the door behind her.

“Parker, I have the key code,” Sophie pulled her hat hastily down over her ears and followed her out into the snow.

“I think supervision might be in order,” Nate pulled his own hat on, “sit tight. We’ll be back to unload after we check everything.”

Nate let in another burst of cold when he opened the door, and it didn’t escape Hardison’s notice that he locked the car behind him. Eliot’s paranoia was rubbing off on everyone, it seemed.

Hardison wanted to grumble and complain, or at the very least, narrate what was obviously the start of the worst kind of horror movie, namely the kind that they had to participate in, but Eliot’s breathing had evened back out into sleep, and he didn’t want to risk waking him.

The only light besides the eerie red snow reflection was the headlights of the van pointed at the front porch. The porch was high enough that the beams hit Parker and Sophie at the knees. It looked like there was some kind of problem with both the lock and the lock box, and they seemed to be struggling with getting either of them open.

Nate was standing to the side of them on the porch, just outside the narrow beam of light. He was hunched against the cold, shooting the occasional furtive glance at the dark trees ringing the cabin. This was the part of the movie where the monster sprang out of the forest and ate the idiots stupid enough to venture out into the open.

Although, they were still pretty early into the film. They had only just gotten to the cabin, and they had yet to run into any cooky locals who regaled them with stories of the monster or ancient tomes that conveniently fell into their laps warning them of the beast. This early in the film, they would get the door open just in the nick of time, slamming it in the monster’s face as they scrambled to safety.

Leaving he and Eliot in the car to be eaten.

Monsters lurking in the dark seemed a lot more possible with their resident monster slayer not at his best. Hardison didn’t care what Nate said, it wasn’t like Eliot to just fall asleep when they were somewhere weird and unsecured. Excessive sleepiness was a sign of head injury.

Or blood loss, or severe inflammation, or internal bleeding, or some other weird medical condition. Or, the rational part of his brain pointed out, barely sleeping at all the last week because the job had not got smoothly. Short of someone dying, everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong. And yet, the bad guy had been beaten and the client was sufficiently safe and cared for. So they would count it as a win. Unless Eliot had a brain bleed or something. Then that definitely canceled out the win.

Parker got the door open finally, and Hardison watched through the front windshield, holding his breath as Parker stepped into the dark cabin, followed by Nate, then Sophie. It felt like it took hours, but suddenly the porch lights flipped on, and a warm glow lit up the front windows, reflecting golden sparks off the falling snow.

Hardison let out his breath, glad to find they had made the transition from b-level horror movie to hallmark Christmas special. Too bad Christmas had been like a month ago. Still, if they didn’t run into a Christmas tree farmer with an emo past who turned out to secretly be Santa’s long lost son, Hardison was going to be disappointed.

Eliot stirred again, turning his face into Hardison’s shoulder to escape the cold that was leaching into the van now that the engine was off. Hardison drew him in closer and rested his cheek on top of Eliot’s head.

“No brain bleeds,” he murmured into Eliot’s beanie, “we have rules about things like that.”

“Who’s bleeding?” Eliot mumbled into Hardison’s jacket.

“No one,” Hardison reassured him, “as long as you’re not.”

Eliot seemed to consider that for a moment before shaking his head and settling again, “not right now.”

“You know, El,” Hardison grumbled, “answers like that are why we worry about you all the time.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Eliot’s head and went back to watching the porch through the front windshield. The longer the others took inside, the more things felt like they were sliding back into b-movie territory.

Hardison knew what they were doing. They ran perimeter and security checks on every place they stayed. Usually Eliot did them, but if he was already busy doing something else for the job, Parker would take care of it. She had the dubious distinction of being the second most paranoid member of the team. She also had a vast and impressive understanding of how building security worked, or how it didn’t work, since figuring out how to get in and out of places was both her job and her favorite pastime.

She had already been applying that to her own safety when the team had come together, and it had only taken a few conversations with Eliot for her to see how to apply it to assessing the security of wherever the team was staying. If she said the cabin was good, Eliot would be satisfied with it.

Hardison would sweep for bugs and any other tech weirdness once they got their gear inside. Hopefully, if everything came back clear from both he and Parker, Eliot would feel safe enough to get some rest and actually take care of his “not bleeding right now” self.

Right around the time Hardison started thinking they were going to freeze to death instead of get eaten by a monster, the rest of the team finally came out of the cabin. Parker hopped down the steps, landing two footed in snow that came up to her mid-calf, then turned to head to the corner of the building, taking exaggeratedly large steps through the snow drifts. Nate followed her, walking like a normal person and hunched against the snow and wind.

Sophie left them to it, coming back to the van. She pulled open the side door, letting in a gust of snow and wind. Eliot sat up with a start, blinking blurrily at Sophie and the open van door.

“Everything looks good inside,” Sophie smiled, “Nate and Parker are just going to do a quick walk around the outside, but we can start unloading.”

“Took you long enough,” Hardison grumbled, sliding out of the van. He pulled his scarf up over his mouth and nose and stepped aside to let Eliot out.

“The lock and lockbox were both frozen,” Sophie shrugged, “it took some fiddling from Parker to get it open, then she had to open every door in the place and climb the banister railing, for some reason”

“She’s Parker,” Eliot shrugged and started reaching for the nearest bag, “she hasn’t really seen something until she’s climbed it.”

“People who don’t tell us they’re hurt don’t get to carry in bags,” Sophie’s tone indicated that this was a punishment, somehow, “go inside and get warmed up. We've got this.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Eliot grumbled at her, but he left the bags and headed towards the cabin anyway.

Hardison watched Eliot go up the porch steps, then turned to Sophie, who was pulling bags out of the back row.

“He didn’t even argue,” Hardison hissed.

“Let him get some food and sleep,” Sophie shoved an armful of grocery bags at him, “then worry.”

“That is not how worry works,” Hardison complained as he trudged through the snow to the cabin.

******

Sophie grabbed Eliot’s bags from the back seat first, almost over balancing with the weight of the duffel before she managed to get it over her shoulder. What did that man pack and why couldn’t he put it in two or three bags that didn’t weigh as much as an elephant instead of cramming it all in one?

She passed Hardison as he was trudging back to the van. He started to reach for the bags she was carrying, but she waved him on. It was in Hardison’s nature to worry constantly, and there was something endearing about that, but worrying wasn’t going to get Eliot settled and resting. Maybe even sleeping if the ride here was any indication.

She dumped Eliot’s bags on the bed in the back bedroom, the one farthest from both doors. The blankets on the bed were a bit light for how cold it was, but they had cranked up the heat as soon as they had gotten inside, and everything was starting to warm up. She would get Parker to help her hunt down the extra blankets the owner had told her were here later.

First though, Sophie had a hitter to cajole into bed.

She dug through Eliot’s bag until she found his stash of ice packs, then headed to the kitchen. She was not at all surprised to find Eliot there, poking half-heartedly through cupboards and peering into the grocery bags piled precariously on the counter. He was holding his left arm stiff and close to his body and moving slow, but at least he was carrying around a water bottle, and looked to have drunk about half of it already.

“At least the stove is gas,” Eliot grumbled, even as he gave the knife block a disgusted look, “if we lose power we’ll still be able to have hot meals.”

“I hadn’t even thought of losing power,” Sophie admitted, “we might have to give the fireplace a once over to make sure it’s safe to use.”

Eliot glanced over the breakfast bar into the living room where a large stone fireplace had pride of place across from a comfortable, if dusty, looking couch,

“I’ll…”

“You’ll go take a shower,” Sophie nudged him away from the counter so she could start putting groceries away.

“Later,” Eliot shook his head stubbornly, “everyone’s got to be hungry, and I should get something started.”

He started to pull open grocery bags, and Sophie shooed him away again, “we’ll take care of dinner.”

Eliot gave her a dubious look.

“Nate will take care of dinner,” Sophie corrected, “he’ll enjoy it. It will remind him of his prison days.”

“What am I doing?” Nate asked, dumping a pile of luggage in the middle of the living room.

“Making dinner,” Sophie supplied.

“Yeah, sure,” Nate paused to give the kitchen a once over before trudging back out the front door for more bags.

“So go take a shower,” Sophie pushed him in the direction of the bedrooms and bathroom with a hand on the small of his back, “you’ll feel better, and I won’t feel guilty about using all the hot water when I take mine.”

“You never feel guilty about that,” Eliot groused, but he headed in the direction of the bedrooms.

“Your bags are in the second bedroom,” Sophie called after him.

She watched long enough to see him duck into the room, then turned back to the kitchen, trying to decide if actually getting Eliot to take a shower instead of haul luggage entitled her to not spend the next quarter hour trudging through the snow to unload the van.

Probably not. The sooner they could get everything inside and everyone out of the awful weather, the better.

Sophie pulled her scarf up around her nose and ears and headed back into the snow.

******

“I’m hungry,” Parker announced, “Sophie said you’d make us dinner.”

She was sitting cross-legged on the breakfast bar because Eliot was still in the shower and couldn’t tell her not to.

“Once we get the groceries put away, I’ll put something together,” Nate tossed her a box of cereal without bothering to look at what it was.

Parker pulled it open and was delighted to find it was the kind with the grainy rainbow marshmallows. She had no idea where the spoons were, so she started eating it by the handful.

“We should do something about the doors,” Parker said with her mouth full, which wasn’t as fun when Eliot wasn’t there to shoot her disgusted looks.

“What about the doors?” Nate asked absently as he started pulling everything out of the fridge that Sophie and Hardison had stuffed into it.

Sophie was giving him that funny look that she had said meant he was being a micromanaging jerk. Parker thought that was a useful thing to be able to do most times, but she didn’t like it when he tried to micromanage her, so Sophie maybe had a point when she complained about it.

It seemed mostly useful right now though and meant they would be able to fit more stuff in the fridge.

“They were too easy to open,” she told Nate.

“I’ll get everything alarmed once I finish setting my stuff up,” Hardison said from where he was unpacking his electronics and starting to set them up on the coffee table in front of the fireplace.

Sophie had told him he couldn’t use the big table near the kitchen because they needed somewhere to sit and eat, and he was still sulking about it. Parker hadn’t told him yet that there was a big desk up in the sleeping loft, because she hadn’t decided yet if she wanted to share the loft.

“I think the blizzard is going to be pretty good security for us,” Nate didn’t look up from his efforts to use the fridge space as efficiently as possible.

“We got here through it,” Parker shrugged.

“Well, we are rather exceptional,” Sophie offered, “and we barely made it here, but what do you have in mind?”

Parker considered the options. The front door and the back door both pushed inward, so the easiest way to secure them would be to put something heavy in front of them to block them from opening, but they would have to do it in a way that didn’t mess up Hardison’s alarm system. It would be good to do something about the downstairs windows too. They were easy to access and would be easy for someone to break into, but they were also easy exits for the team if they needed to leave in a hurry.

She would usually ask Eliot what he thought, but he was hurt and tired and would come up with better ideas after he got some sleep.

“I think after Hardison gets his system set up we should reinforce the doors,” Parker decided, “then maybe try to do something to secure the downstairs windows.”

“Why don’t we just stick a chair under the door knobs for tonight,” Nate finally turned away from the fridge, having managed to fit everything that needed to be refrigerated in it, “we can do a more thorough job of securing the place tomorrow. It looks like we’re going to be here a couple days, at least.”

Parker nodded her agreement and shoved another handful of cereal in her mouth.

“How do we feel about spaghetti for dinner?” Nate asked, “I think I saw green beans and cherry tomatoes around here somewhere that we can have as a side.”

“I got some of that garlic bread you just toss in the oven too,” Hardison had moved on from connecting cables to actually sitting and working on his laptop, an assortment of small sensors and cameras spread out on the table in front of him.

“Great,” Nate said briskly, then looked back to Parker, “what kind of sauce do you want?”

He gestured to the four jars of pasta sauce lined up on the counter with the other pantry goods that hadn’t been put away yet. There was extra cheesy alfredo, basil marinara, vodka, and four cheese marinara. Sophie and Hardison hadn’t been able to decide, so Parker had dumped them all in the cart. None of them were going to be as good as Eliot’s.

“That one,” Parker pointed to the alfredo; it was white like marshmallows even if it tasted nothing like them.

“Done,” Nate said, then guided Sophie out of the kitchen area with a hand on her back, “we can finish putting the rest of this away after we eat. Go somewhere else so I can cook.”

Sophie huffed, but went to sit on the couch next to Hardison. He handed her the remote to the flat screen tv hung over the fireplace, and she flipped on the weather channel, which seemed a little silly to Parker. It was snowing; they knew it was snowing.

Parker watched Nate in the kitchen for a while while she munched on her cereal. Watching Nate cook wasn’t at all like watching Eliot cook. When Eliot cooked he was focused on the food and he noticed everything about it. He was always tasting things and adjusting things as he went. Parker liked to watch him cook because he always seemed like he was happy, or at least that cooking made him feel better when he wasn’t.

It wasn’t like that with Nate. Nate just made food. He didn’t seem to dislike doing it, but it wasn’t anything special to him. His food wasn’t terrible, but it didn’t taste like Eliot’s. It didn’t taste like it mattered a lot to him, and he wanted it to matter a lot to them.  

Parker heard the water shut off in the bathroom and closed up her cereal, then hopped down from the breakfast bar. She left her cereal on the counter; she could always come back and hide all the boxes of cereal where she wanted them later.

**********

Eliot did feel better after taking a shower, and after giving the diclofenac time to kick in, and after dozing most of the way to the cabin, and he was kind of disgruntled about it. Had his flight not been rerouted twice and the safety of the team abruptly called into question, he would have done all those things much sooner and in the safety of one of his boltholes without anyone else to worry about.

As it was, he was still tired and achy, but at least he felt like he was tracking better. He was content to let the team struggle through figuring out dinner without him, but he did want a better look at the layout of the cabin before he tried to get a little more sleep. There were always things that needed to be taken care of when they first got into a space, especially with Eliot still feeling uneasy about how they had ended up there.

Parker was sitting at the foot of the bed his bags had been on, scribbling away in one of her notebooks. Eliot’s bags had been tossed haphazardly in a corner, but a clean hoodie and a pair of mis-matched wool socks were laying on the bed.

Eliot almost went to find the matching socks, but he was tired still and digging through his bag after Parker had rearranged it probably wasn’t the best use of his limited energy right now.

“Do you want to hear about the cabin?”  Parker asked, turning her notebook so he could see her detailed sketch of the cabin’s layout.

“Sure,” Eliot sat heavily on the edge of the bed and pulled his socks on; at least they were the same type of sock even if the colors were different.

The heat had gone a long way towards loosening up his shoulder, but he should probably get some ice on it soon. He would have to dig his ice packs out of his bag at some point so he could get them in the freezer.

“There are two doors, the front one we came through and one half way down the side of the house the fireplace is on. It goes out to the back porch. I don’t think the locks on them are very good, but Nate said we could stick a chair under the handles for tonight and fix them tomorrow. There are seven windows downstairs, double pane, latch locks that are really flimsy, but we don’t have anything to change them out with. Hardison is putting up cameras and sensors tonight though…”

Eliot shrugged into his hoodie and gave into the urge to lay back against the pillows while Parker talked. She was always thorough with building layouts and security weaknesses, and there was only so much they could do tonight anyway. Hardison’s security systems were always good, and he knew how to maximize the coverage of any space, although the snow and ice were probably going to cause problems for any cameras or sensors he wanted to set up outside.

“...from the outside it looks like there’s a crawl space under the cabin, but I couldn’t find any way into it from the inside, and Nate wouldn’t let me go into it from the outside. He said I’d get too wet or dirty or something, which is kind of stupid because I have clothes and a shower in here,” Parker kept going.

“It’s not good to get wet in this kind of weather, even if you think it will only be for a little bit,” Eliot murmured, “we can take a better look at it tomorrow when it’s light out.”

He really was tired, and there was something soothing about listening to Parker go through every detail of the building; it wouldn’t hurt if he closed his eyes for just a minute or two while he listened.

**********

Parker grinned when she saw Eliot’s eyes close, but she finished telling him about the sleeping loft before she stopped talking. His breathing was deep and even, and it looked like he really was asleep.

When he didn’t push her away while she was covering him with a blanket, she knew he really was asleep. She kissed him on the cheek the way Sophie did sometimes and turned out the light on her way out of the room.

[currentfandomkick]

Marinette did Not sign up for this part 5

so, this happened. i would feel bad, but the characters hijacked this story after chapter 1 and i’m just along for the ride and checking that words makes sense.

First part here Previous Here ao3 Here

--

“Hey Alya, you haven’t been getting more hits on your blog from Gotham lately, have you?” Marinette asked.

Alya rolled her eyes as honestly, could her bestie be any less obvious? She could see the “new” necklace. The one that only shows up when Multimouse is on call. Honestly—why is it everyone keeps thinking she doesn’t know who’s who? She’s the Fox—Illusions and Truth are her bread and butter.

“Now that you mention it,” Alya pulled up her latest stats. “Yes. The whole site—jeez these guys must have just found out and want the scoop from the best source in Paris,” Alya preened.

Marinette acted… different after she got that answer. Moved in on herself. Alya could feel the attempt at a cover-up before she even asked.

“Hey, is something up?”

“Nothing! Nothing is up, why would something be up! Ha, that’s a good one Alya!”

Ah, the miraculous-related tic was in full swing then. Marinette isn’t exactly the most in-the-know miraculous user, and the Mouse is always taken back after its been used. She could be forgiven for assuming Alya, the expert in all things Miraculous second only to the Original duo and their boss, would not know that something was going on in a certain spotted heroine’s life, and it was all hands on deck.

“Okay,” Alya switched to her theory notes, “Any new names to add to the ‘would not be surprised if they were Hawkmoth’ list?” Marinette is a goldmine on this topic, and while miraculous adjacent, definitely able to ease the whole ‘not in control’ and helpless feelings this situation was probably stirring in her girl. She knew it was for herself atleast.

Marinette perked up with a familiar ‘I know what you will say, but lets do this anyway’ type of sly smile. “Okay, so we do agree that it has to be someone that knows Gabriel’s schedule and doesn’t want to interfere with it for the most part, right?”

“Well,” Alya wasn’t letting this hunch go anytime soon, no matter what LB and Chat said about evidence against. She knew she was onto something with it, and for all she knew, some miraculous magic could be interfering. “I still say it could be him and Natalie taking turns, but that doesn’t rule them both out.”

Marinette shot Alya a look, of the ‘I strongly disagree, but feel it is futile to remind you why’ variety.

“I’m kidding, your boss isn’t Hawkmoth, I know… He’d totally have better designs for akumas if he was.”

Marinette leaned forward conspiratorially. “You should have seen him tear into the Bubbler one when I brought it up as an example of horrible design. His face was perfect!”

Alya would love to imagine the many, many ways to torment Gabriel after what she and Nino have come to understand about the man from their friends. Ranging from negligent and uninvolved control freak at best to manipulative, victim-blaming, and abusive POS. If Adrien and Marinette were a little less attached (re: not pedestalling the man so much), then she could get them to see the truth and they could go over the pair’s options to get them both away from his BS and make the man pay for the all the crap he put Adrien through, and was starting to put Marinette through. Why else would the girl be running herself ragged—especially the past week—if the man wasn’t a demanding asshole boss?

“That’s great, next time, get a pic or vid and share the love.”

“I will, so I met another one of his suppliers and…” Alya began to take vicious notes, glad for Marinette’s attention to detail on these things. It made looking for possible Hawkmoths much easier on her and Max—yes she knows who Pegasus and Cowboy are, Markov in a hat is still Markov in a hat. It was a wonder that no one else noticed.

Alya grinned when she saw Trixx peek out of her hiding place, a wide smile that reminded her exactly why Alya could catch everyone’s identity while her friends still hadn’t put together she’s Rena; a Fox casts illusions. To do that well, you have to learn to seek and see the truth, and get your evidence. And Alya? Is a damn good fox.

----------

Tim hates his stupid insane list of designers. He managed to knock of half by using his own damn filters, thank you very much for dominant genes from the Wayne side that could be seen visually. It knocked out a good chunk (about two thousand out of five thousand) on hair alone. He decided he would let it keep running for those that linked their socials to their psueds and aliases.

The problem was the handful (about ten) that didn’t. He’d have to meet them in person, used his glasses to get pictures, and run those against social media posts in Paris to find out who these more private designers were—all to find out if they really are in the right age range, and if their natural features do put them in the ‘likely a Wayne’ category for Wayne dominant traits (and those possible given Bruce’s own DNA makeup, which he doesn’t know Tim has. Hey, he’s the Robin that Gets Shit Done, never said he was the polite one. That’s Dick’s job, not his.)

---------

Adrien hates not having Plagg with him. Not that Tikki isn’t great and all! Really! Just… he misses him and his stinky cheese, okay?

“Adrien,” Natalie knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Natalie entered the doorway, but no further. “When is Marinette free for consultations next? we have a high end client who would like to commission her as soon as possible.”

“Give me a minute…” Adrien checked his ‘overseeing Marinette’ schedule on his phone. “Uh, she has walk-ins around four until five tomorrow.”

“Excellent. Will she be at her home or the studio Gabriel has provided for consultations?” By her tone, he could tell which Natalie and Father would prefer.

“Let me check with her.”

“See that you do.”

Adrien sent a lipstick, X arm lady, and house emoji to Marinette.

In a minute she sent back a thumbs up and apartment building emoji.

“Studio it is.”

Natalie nodded. “Excellent choice. I will let them know to be there at four ten, given Marinette’s… difficulty arriving on time.”

Adrien grimaced a bit on that as yeah… no longer having a Danger sense meant her punctuality was… not very good.  “Are they speaking to Marinette or MDC?”

He’d need to know if he should just pick her up or not. MDC didn’t have to get picked up—designers to celebrities are allowed to be late and can blame it on getting caught up in a few details on a commission design for a walk-in consultation. Marinette was tied to the Gabriel Brand and needed to reflect that, therefore, be there on time and ready.

“Marinette for now, though they expressed an interest in MDC as a budding designer, and they are well within the MDC price range,” Natalie hinted.

Adrien kept the hiss growing in the back of throat quiet. Marinette chooses who MDC works with, not his Father.

--------

Stephanie is both delighted and upset when she sees Cass. As its Cass—she probably figured it out already damn it!—but its Cass and she missed her since she left a few months back for a mission and got caught up in the Chinese crime scene again.

“Hey Cass!”

Cass grinned when she saw Steph and made her way over.

“Found her!”

Stephanie was gutted. She really wanted to win, just this once, at a detective thing. You know, be the normal one that managed to out-do the prodigies and geniuses. Not to be again. “Oh, that’s great. Where is the baby bat?”

Cass shook her head. “Not her, Soup Girl.”

Stephanie opened and shut her mouth. Then lit up as she still has a chance! “Oh, right—right! You said you wanted to meet her a while back.”

Cass nodded. “Her family is nice.”

“Did you talk to her or…”

Cass shook her head. “Busy.”

“Ah.” That made sense. “Well, uh, still competing?”

Cass raised an eyebrow. That was a yes.

“Maybe we should work on helping her on the hero side of things together, you know, so we don’t freak her out when we all swarm her place. Make the whole thing a bit less…”

“Dramatic.”

Stephanie nodded. It would help ease the girl into the family, and keep Cass on that case instead of finding Baby Bat for a bit. Win-Win for Stephanie and Baby Bat.

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

Chatte Noire really, really hates dealing with akumas. She's built for strategy, to see tricky parts and work out how to make them safer for the team and minimize risk. She is not made to be Chatte Noire. Yet here she is, in an akuma attack, trying to play the role of a Black Cat—identify and destroy threats to the team. Problem is, she lacks Chat Noir's heightened ability to sense danger. In fact, she lacks it completely--and she knows the team isn't happy.

The attack is taking longer than it would if she was Ladybug. This would be over if she had just managed to keep her big mouth shut and not talked to Aquaman. Then the Justice League wouldn’t be involved. Then the whole promise to Murder Robin would not be broken and Paris would already be saved for the day instead of dealing with another Sandboy attack going on well into the night, with a cure that won’t be able to handle fatigue, energy renewal or relax the body for sleep post ‘I’m scared out of my mind’ fear.

She made sure to avoid this Sandboy’s attacks and she would save whoever got caught. Her Cataclysms may not be as strong as Chat’s (his do make the whole thing go away) but she is just as quick on her feet and just as good at getting civilians out of danger.

“Chatte!”

“On it Buggaboy! And not yet!”

It was too off for the Lucky Charm. They’d need Viperion, and he was stuck underwater with Aquaman trying to get him out at the moment. Until then, she just had to minimize damage, keep civilians away from their nightmares hunting them down, and keep moving and planning and work everything out while playing bodyguard for the team at Cha—At Mr. Bug’s call.

She hopes things turn out okay.

Then she sees a bat symbol and the world vanishes.

----------

Red Hood blinked when he saw some girl running around on rooftops in… Isn’t Chat Noir supposed to be the cat one? Where the hell is Ladybug—and why is some guy in her place? Shit, did the baby bat lose her miraculous or was it stolen? Damnit, now he has to steal it back for her!

“Okay, how did LB get hit when she isn’t even here?” The fox girl groaned as she dodged another attack. “Aren’t these guys supposed to go after who’s scared of them?”

The bee girl rolled her eyes. “More than just Ladybug can be terrified of the bats. They’re the Ghosts, remember?”

“Hey, can we argue about fears and who has rights to them some other time?” fake ladybug asked, flinching and moving closer to the Turtle guy. “Uh, Chatte, that way!”

Cat girl—Chatte— said something he didn’t catch and grabbed a kid stuck in a mob and bounce out.

“I—” the boy threw his hands up. “We’re screwed. She really, really isn’t getting the whole Cat thing.”

Red Hood pulled out his guns, checking that the darts were loaded and aiming for Spots.

“Chatte---guy with a gun!”

This time cat girl managed to look over and froze. She started… hyperventilating? Shit—kid’s having an attack.  

Red Hood lowered his gun and made sure to get closer to her---seeing as the other heroes—Dragon girl, Monkey boy and Snake Guy were busy with the bee and fox girls trying to circle some kid on a pillow. No clue where the other kid in black was, but the cat girl losing it? that was his current focus.

“Kid, come on, breathe.”

“Oh my—” the kid looked at him like he was the threat. “Fuck, no—I shouldn’t have talked back to---shit. Shit, now I’m gonna—”

“VOYAGE!”

Just like that, Red Hood was dropped into Gotham harbor. Jason didn’t even get to look around to see what happened. He did manage to tread water and work out which was to go to get to shore.

“Oracle!”

“Jesus Hood—sending Robin to your location. What happened?”

“Some kids stole baby bats’ jewels, some akuma attack, the actual cat thief was hyperventilating and then I end up here.”

“Oh, B is not going to like this.”

“I already don’t like it.” Batman growled out over comms. “Did someone say voyage?”

Red Hood wracked his somewhat waterlogged brain. “In French, yes.”

“One of the local heroes.” Jason could feel Bruce’s annoyance. “Why were you in Paris.”

“Well,” Red Hood kept swimming to shore. “When you find out a long lost bat is in life threatening danger, one must locate and meet this possible winner of the ‘avoided having crappy parents raise me’ lottery to give a well-earned ‘congrats, you’re a well-adjusted person in a family of crimefighter! Mazel tav.”

“Hood.” Robin began on a private channel. “We need to talk.”

“Gotta go B, life to live, baby bat to find.”

“Red Hood!”

“Bye!” Red Hood climbed out of the harbor, finding his baby brother on his motorcycle that was definitely not Bruce-Approved.

“What’s up buttercup, didja miss me?”

Robin scowled at him. “Of course not, the world is more peaceful without the drivel that falls out of your mouth.”

Red Hood snorted. “Yeah, and that’s why you hide in my room all the time.”

Robin refused to make eye contact, shoving Red Hood onto his bike. “Is it true, did my sister lose her miraculous?”

“Unless she’s B and Catwoman’s lovechild and she decided to embrace it.”

Robin was quiet on the way to the cave. “…how long would it take to get the pilot to return and take me to Paris?”

“…you’d make it there around their in time for dessert.”

Robin frowned. “that’s not soon enough.”

“Closest you’ll get. And don’t’ think you’re going alone.”

Robin frowned. “I am not exposing my sister to you.”

“She’s our sister first of all,” Red Hood corrected. “and second of all, I have a bet to win, and I’m behind thanks to this portal guy. So I’m coming.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “Only if you get past Father and Alfred.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Robin smirked as they pulled into the Batcave.

“Father, I believe Red Hood needs your full attention given he was in the harbor for so long, and we all know how cold they are this time of year.”

Jason decided Damian was by and far his least favorite sibling in that moment. “Wait, B, no, look—no signs of hypothermia, no shaking, just need to change and—”

“I will check and ensure you don’t develop it with Alfred on standby.”

Jason glared at Damian, already stripping from his Robin gear with that self-satisfied smirk. “Traitor!”

“I simply want what is best for my siblings, how is that wrong?”

----------

I hope this gave you all a good idea of what’s going to happen next… I do love the Batfam and all, but some of their approaches here… no good and need to have that hit over their head.

And if I’m screwing up ladybats characterization, feel free to let me know so I can fix it---going off what I could find from DC fans and lore but I also do not know these characters inside and out, and want to do them justice.

OH and for anytime i refrence princess Justice, got a refrence for you now! picture the one made by @tinymelonbug right here with the only (maybe?) change being that below the cut it is cut off as a romper: Here 

TAGS:

@heldtogetherbysafetypins @laurcad123 @raisuke06 @chaosace @jeminiikrystal @toodaloo-kangaroo @kris-pines04

[purplekiwis]

“From the Dining Table” - Chapter I

Hello everyone, I’ve been enjoying reading your fics a lot, especially now with the whole quarentine thing, they never fail to bring me joy. I thought it would be fun to start writing some myself and that’s why I created this blog. I haven’t written a fic in over 10 years ( I promise I’m not that old, I was just a very imaginative child.) Anyway, I wrote this one based of a dream I had and then I realized it reminded me a lot of Harry’s song, so I just kept on going with the theme. This is a pretty long one, it’s going to be 3 Chapters. Today I’m gonna post the first one, I hope you (whoever you are that’s reading this) enjoy it and I would be super happy to get any feedback from you.❤️

You can read Chapter II here You can read Chapter III here Word Count: 8k Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Sexual References

Summary: Friends to Lovers; Y/N is a graphic designer working at a small studio in London. She lives a pretty ordinary life, considering she also happens to be friends with an internationally known musician. Which is fine... Until she finds herself having to face the feelings she developed for her friend, who's the last person she expected to fall in love with.

Chapter I - The House Party

Today was just another typical Saturday for you. You had just got out of the shower and dressed in your “sleeping clothes” - an old t-Shirt and a pair of incredibly worn out leggings, and cooked something quick for dinner, since all the plans you had for the evening, and for the rest of the weekend were to lay around the house watching movies from your watch-list and trying to keep up with the episodes of your favorite series you had missed out during the week.              

However, as you were browsing through your computer, trying to figure out what Riverdale episode you hadn’t watched yet, your phone vibrated on the bedside table. You let your head fall in your hands with a weary expression, fearing that it might be one of your clients asking for changes in the work you had just delivered 2 hours ago.     You tried your hardest to ignore it, for you had already decided that you were going to save the rest of the afternoon for taking care of yourself... which was a great accomplishment since you gradually and accidentally had become a bit of a workaholic.  

It wasn’t something you were proud of... but you were a proper adult now and that’s just how adultwood is. Suddenly all your friends were busy with their families (can’t relate), their partners (no, can’t relate either) and their jobs (yes, you had one of those now) and you didn’t have much else to keep you entertained, so at least you tried to do something productive with your time.            

Okay, maybe it was possible that you were focusing on work to try not to think about how lonely you actually felt... Especially when you found yourself rubbing your own aching back after spending the whole afternoon sitting at your desk immersed in your work. Secretly wishing somebody else was there with you besides the faces painted in the unfinished artworks laying around your flat... that were yet to be amazing pieces of art one day, according to you.

The only problem was that you couldn’t manage to get yourself to actually finish them, or even to work on them for a couple of hours. Why? You didn’t really know.  

All you knew was that there was no motivaton within you to focus on the things you had once really enjoyed doing. Maybe you were too tired to have a hobby, maybe you were already over those artworks, perhaps you didn’t even like painting anymore...          

The only thing that you knew for sure of was that you had became exactly who you said you would never: A young adult working for a small company with barely any social life, let alone a stable relationship, sharing a tiny apartment with her cat and the ghosts of her past dreams and aspirations.      So I guess by now it’s safe to say that you were definitely focusing on your work to forget about how boring your life had become in the last few months...      Even thought you really didn’t want to look at your phone, your curiosity got a hold of you and you checked it… Only to find a text from your friend Harry. Seeing his name on your phone made your heart skip a beat, as you rolled around in bed so that you could take a better look at it. It had been a while since you spoke to Harry... mostly because he had been busy, and you had been trying to avoid bothering him. Knowing damn well he would probably much rather spend his free time doing something better with his free time, since he was always busy as a bee, jumping between countries and cities whilst working on several projects simultaneously.      

You considered Harry a close friend of yours... even if you didn’t talk all the time and even ghosted each other for months on occasion, until one of you broke the silence with a text or a phone call. This time, it was Harry that texted you first...      

HS: What are you up to?            

You: I was just about to watch Riverdale...          

H.S:  What is that?   

You couldn’t help but to let out a little smile. Sometimes he could still surprise you with how alienated he could be from mundane stuff. You didn’t hold it against him, you knew he had a preference for oldies when it came to the movies and music he actually payed attention to.          

You decided not to bug him about it, since you were far more interested in figuring out why he was randomly texting you at 9PM on a Saturday.          

You : It’s just a gross teen show. What about you?          

H.S: Aren’t you a bit too old for teen shows? I’m home. Been here for a couple of days, actually.

You felt a little hurt knowing that he had been home for a while and was only letting you know now, since you were usually one of the first people he wanted to see after spending long periods of time away, even if it was just to come watch the telly and catch up over bags of take-away food. You shook off the uneasy feeling. After all it wasn’t like he owed you his free time... For all you knew, he could’ve been catching up with his other friends or even have someone far more entertaining over his house.  

You : Aren’t you a bit too young to be such a grandpa?

H.S : Good news is that grandpa might actually have better plans for your night.            

You felt your cheeks warm as a fuzzy feeling started in your stomach. You noticed you had been smiling at your phone whilst thinking of what his plans could be, and when you finally got back to reality your cat was blankely staring at you, making you feel aware of how stupid you must have been looking. “What? You know it’s not like that!” You exclaimed to your cat, getting a little embarassed by your own mushy thoughts.            

Before you could answer his text he sent you another one.        

H.S: Would you like to accompany me to this thing i have?        You sat straight in your bed, but almost immidiately got up to check yourself in the mirror. Yikes, you thought. There’s no way i’m going anywhere with a face like this... In the deepest, darkest part of your brain, you added: Especially not with him.             You: What thing?

H.S: It’s just a boring house party. Please come!!! I need someone to talk to.   

You: If you want to convince me, maybe you should consider rethinking your use of adjectives. I’m sure you do... just like all the other parties, right? 🙄         

H.S: Sorry, I meant AMAZING party!!! 😊  Also, it’s not my fault everyone likes to talk to me.     You : It is. You’re too nice to them.                     

H.S: That’s why i need you to scare them away with your moody face! Are you coming? I already asked Claire to save you seat in the car.          

You looked at yourself in the mirror, kinda wishing you had known earlier because you really looked and felt too tired (and ugly, might you add) to get out of the house. Especially to go to a party where you probably knew like, 3 people in real life besides Harry. Besides, you already knew that you would feel a bit out of place there...   Because no matter how hard Harry and his friends tried to make you feel included, there was always this feeling you felt... Like everyone else was judging every single thing you did. The clothes you were wearing, the way you acted with your friends, how much booze you drinked, how many crab cakes you ate, and even how much you talked, or didn’t talk... Going to these parties had undoubtedly showed you how cold and indifferent people could be about other people’s complete existence as soon as they realized they didn’t come from the entertainment industry...           Harry had tried to explain to you that they didn’t flat out dislike you... It was just that they liked to test the waters before jumping into a friendship with someone from outside the industry, since most of them had already been through bad experiences when it came to that topic.

Y/N had never really ate that one up, but she decided it wasn’t worth the fuss of sharing her opinion out loud. She still remebered the first event she attended to with Harry, and how he and his friends had tried to give her advise on what she should and shouldn’t do... Something she hadn’t taken very well at the time, because it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to behave herself at a party just for being considered an “outsider”. She had been to lots of parties. Smaller ones, yes. With cheaper beverage options and far unhealthier selections of finger foods she could nibble guiltlessly on, but they were still parties nonetheless...          

Luckily for you, people were starting to get used to your occasional presence at their informal house events, and you managed to get along with the majority of Harry’s mates as well, what made you feel a little more confortable... However you still always got a bit nervous before going, especially when you hadn’t seen everyone in a while, which was the case that time around...

You : I feel like i could fall asleep at any given moment, so i think i’ll have to pass this one out 😔 but maybe tomorrow we could do something?      

He took a while to reply, making you wonder if he got upset at you for not wanting to go, or if he was already asking another one of his friends if they would like to go in your place... You didn’t know what option you liked the best.    Eventually, you got tired of holding your phone so you put it down, a little too harshly, what made your cat tremble with the noise. “Sorry Tilly.” You whispered, as your pet got up and curled up in your lap, while you petted her gently behind her ears. “Maybe it’s better this way… right?” You asked, mostly to yourself.         

Suddently you heard your phone ringing. Harry was calling you. You got up in a jump and grabbed the phone, what led to an unpleasant scratch from Tilly in your thigh. Before picking up, you stared at the screen for a few seconds, just so he didn’t think you were impatiently waiting for his reply. Yes, you were petty like that sometimes.              

“Hey!”               

“Hello loser!” The raspyness of his voice caught you by surprise, making you shiver. You’d almost forgot how good it sounded.      

“No one uses that word anymore.”      

“Who cares?” “Good point. Hm, listen… I hope you’re not mad at me for not going...”       “What? You really thought I was gonna give up on you that easily?”     “Oh, stop it! I’m not going! Besides, even if I wanted to go, what would I wear? I literally have like ze-” You stopped your rambling, realizing he was singing something to you over the phone, you didn’t recognize it at first, but then you realized where it was from.     

“You're a mean one Mr. Grinch.               You really are a heeeel…               You're as cuddly as a cactus!       You're as charming as an eel! Mr. Griiiinch… You're a bad banana with a… Greasy black peeeeel!”      

It was a song from the last movie you had seen together when he had came home for the holidays. How The Grinch Stole Christmas. He was singing it to mock you by your choice of words, that reminded him of a particular scene of the movie. The way he was messing up the song with his gibberish made you laugh. Eventually both your laughs and his singing faded, leaving you with a huge smile on your face. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” You asked.           

“Well, thank you. Now... As a way of thanking me for my… astonishing performace, you must come party with us.”        

“You’ve got some nerve coming at me with that crap after you’ve abandoned me for... how long was it again? two months?”

“Hey... I’m trying to redeem myself here!”             “Good! As you should.”            

“Is that a yes? Please...? You’re not going to say no to me, are you?”   

“It’s a maybe... a highy dependant on me finding something to wear type of maybe. First of all, is it like…fancy?”      

“Hmm, not really… I think!? You never really know with these parties.”              

“Trust me, I’m aware.” There was a brief silent pause on Harry’s side of the phone, as you as you rummaged through your clothes. “What are you going to wear anyway?”  

“Don’t know yet. Probably like, some pants… boots… and a shirt?”         Harry’s vague description didn't help whatsoever, but you were far too busy trying to disenchant a decent outfit to make light of his words. “Okay!” There was a lot of shuffling from your side, making his eyebrows furrow on the other side the line, despite your lack of knowledge. “I think I may have just found my nice pants, but I don’t know if I have a nice blouse that goes with them... or one that is fitted for the occasion. Why am I so boring with my clothes? I need to invest in a better wardrobe asap…” “You can always come by mine and borrow a shirt… Ya know, If you don’t want to stand out too much.”

“Not standing out by wearing your clothes? Now that’s funny!”               “I’m sure you’ll find something wearable...”      

“Are you serious? You would let me borrow your clothes?”        

“Sure. If you want to.”  

“I don’t know… I’m scared I’ll rip them or something.”                       

“I mean, I like my clothes... but it’s not like I would kill you or myself if something bad happened to them.” “You’re so humble and reasonable Mr. Styles… How did you stay like that?” You could hear him briefelly laugh at your provocation. “I’m serious! besides, I secretly always want to know how my clothes fit on different people.”

“I’m not trying to spoil it for you but probably not that good... Mostly because I’m female shaped so they won’t fit me properly… Also, I’m not sure if you’re aware but you have this gift-”     “Oh, shut up! You can pull anything off.” He cut you off before you could either compliment him or put yourself down. “As long as you love it.” “We’ll see about that.” You challenged, noticeably way less hopeful than he was. “I’ll see you in… an hour and half? Is that a good time?”             

“Do you want me to ask someone to pick you up?”               “I’m good, thank you...” You answered, wasting little time mulling over your friend’s proposal. “But I would happily accept a parking spot in your garage…” You added suggestively, knowing he wouldn’t say no. “Sure! Anything for you.”           “Thank you!”   “You’re very welcome.”               “Okay, well... I better go and get ready now or I’m going to show up late.”   “Alright, I need to go get ready as well. See you soon. Drive safe!”           “Always do.” It took you a bit more than na hour to get ready, what meant you were already running a little late, since Harry’s house was more than half an hour drive away.  

You were wearing one of your favorite “going out” pants, they were black, high-waisted, carrot fitted and overwhelmingly confortable. You went for other one of your favorite pieces - a yellow silk blouse, just in case you ended up not fitting properly in any of Harry’s shirts.

You paired your outfit with oval style ankle boots you’d just recently acquired. I already know I’m going to regret this decision, you thought whilst putting them on.            

You had also decided to change into a matching set of lingerie just because you never know what can happen, right? and also partially because you knew you’d be changing at Harry’s, and god forbid he actually saw anything but if he did, at least it wouldn’t be your granny underwear. You put on a neutral makeup look, throwing a couple of lipsticks into your purse, just so you could decide which one to wear depending on the color of the shirt.             Finally, you put on a bit of perfume and grabbed your jacket, taking a final look in the mirror, staring at yourself from different angles. “I guess that’s about as good as it’s gonna get.” You mumbled to your reflection.           

Before leaving the house, you kissed and petted your cat goodbye, however she didn’t respond to your affection since she was already asleep on top of the clothes you had just carelessly thrown on top of the bed.      

You got in your car and drove off, thirty four minutes later you were turning into Harry’s street and stopping the car in front of the condominium’s gate.You took your phone out of your purse and rang him, he picked up almost immediately.

“You’re here?” “Yeah, I’m already at the gate.”               “Okay, let me open it for you and I’ll be down in a second.”         “Okay, thank you.” The call dropped and the large metal gate started to move, you slowly drove your way into the condo, trying to remember where the entrance to his garage was.          

You didn’t have to think too hard, because a few seconds later one of the garage doors started to open and you could see a pair of impecable black leather boots that merged with the bottom of burgundy flares. Yup, no need for more searching, You thought.          

You stopped the car, waiting for the gate to fully open for what seemed like an eternity, but it gave you time to fully appreciate the man that was slowly revealing himself in front of you.

You could start to see his top half now, he was wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, uncovering his tattooed arms. The top buttons were undone, exposing the cross necklace he always wore, he was also wearing another necklace you hadn’t seen before, his hands were hidden in his pockets, but you already knew that they would be adorned with multiple rings of all shapes and sizes. What a show off, was the tought that came to mind once his whole outfit was revealed, but you had to admit that you wouldn’t have him any other way...   

Finally his head showed up, and he was wearing a big smile on his face.

“Hey you! Better hurry up before this thing closes on you.” You were so lost in his smile that you accidentally let your car die, but you were quick to start it again and as he walked aside you pulled into the garage.           

When you finished parking, you got out of the car, being immediately greeted by Harry’s arms that wrapped you in a tight hug. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes to fully enjoy the moment. He smelled like his characteristic cologne, but since your head was pressed against his shoulder, you could also smell the fabric softner on his shirt and his deodorant.  

“You smell nice.” You mumbled under your breath.   “So do you.” He replied swiftly, resting his chin on the top of your head.          He walked you to the elevator and you went up to his apartment. After many minutes of catching up in the living room he led you to his bedroom, where his closet was. “It’s a bit messy in here, I’ve been meaning to organize it, but I haven’t really had the time.” The boy said before opening its door.

You tried not to look mesmerized by the amount of clothing in front of you, because you knew that one of the things Harry hated the most was when people perceived him as shallow or vain. Luckily, most people could tell straight away that his love for fashion had a greater meaning for him than to just look nice... And even when they didn’t, it only took them about seconds of conversation with him to realize how much of a ducky and kind person he truly was. Also, fairly recently he had been getting a lot of praise for his bold fashion choices, what led to a bit of over enthusiasm from his main stylists’s part and himself when it came to investing in it.  

“I promise I actually wear most of these...” He justified himself, noticing the enthralled expression you genuinely believed you were managing to disguise.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” You giggled. “I’m just slightly overwhelmed by the number of choices before me.”         “Well, take all the time you need.” Harry smiled, sitting over the edge of his bed and unlocking his phone to check the time. It was already past midnight.  As you finally gained courage to start going through his clothes, he let his back fall on the bedspread with a sigh and stared at the ceiling, and that’s when you decided you couldn’t possibly not try to mess with him a little bit. “Stupid… Ugly… Out of date…” (Reference (01:20-01:24)              

“Hey! Stop it, will you?!” He sat up again, supporting his upper body with his elbows that rested firmly on his lap. “Have you found my dress yet?” 

You peeked through the open closet to with a curious expression on your face. “No… Where is it?” you asked, disappearing behind the door and enthusiastically searching his closet for the item, suddently grabbing something that kinda looked like a dress, yet kinda looked like a curtain.           “Is this it?” You asked, stepping out of the closet, holding the hanger in front of you.               

“It’s not a dress, it’s a kilt... Sicko!”  (Reference (01:13-01:18)          

“Really? You had that one coming for a long time didn’t you?” You disdainfully smiled, shaking your head in disapproval. You could tell from his little smirk that he was proud of successfully tricking you into his joke. “Yeah, I was hoping you would find it and ask about it, but you didn’t so I had to find a way to deliver the line anyway.”            

“Okay, but for real why do you have a wedding dress in your closet?” You turned the hanger to see the strange garment from the front.            

“Cause I’m cool like that.”        

“You know what? It’s actually not as ugly as it seemed at first sight...”    

“Well, I would hope so ‘cause it was bloody expensive.” At the sound of his words you were quick to carefully hang it back in it’s place, gently rubbing the fabric to avoid any crinkles.

You kept looking through his clothes and ended up finding a almost sheer shirt that you liked. It was rusty orange with a psychadelic flower pattern that looked quite unique. Taking advantage of the fact that Harry was laying down and distracted on his phone and freed yourself of your blouse in a swift motion, trying on his shirt on as fast as you could. It fitted you quite nicely to your surprise.               “So, have you found anything you like yet?” Your friend asked, with his eyes still stuck on his phone.

“Actually yes, but I could use your help… How would you style this?”  He sat up again and focused his attention on you. “How come you end up finding the one shirt I don’t actually remember owning?” 

He admired you from the bed, letting is head fall to the side a bit, you could feel his eyes stuck on your figure, what made you feel a bit unconfortable and insecure about your body. His expression changed as he got up and walked towards you, making a little circle around you and finally stopping right in front of you. “May I?” He asked, reaching for the shirt.        

“Yeah, go ahead.” You lifted your arms slightly so they wouldn’t get on his way. Carefully, he started adjusting the shirt, slipping it inside your pants and gently pulling it out, until it fell down in a natural way.      

You could feel the warmth of his hands on your skin through the fabric, what caused your breathing to get a little heavy and out of your throat came a peculiar husky sound. Luckily, he was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even acknowledged it.    

Feeling a bit flustered due to his proximity, you decided to break the silence.     “You look so different now that you cut your hair��”      

“Well, isn’t that kind of the point of changing your hair? Why are you complaining? Do you not find me cute anymore?”  “Who lied to you and told you I ever thought you were cute?” Harry looked up at you with disdainful expression once his green eyes met yours. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer by the second. “Well you’re wrong because I am, in fact, very attractive.” He looked down again and undid one of the buttons of the shirt, what left a bit of the black lace of your bra showing. “What are you doing?” You asked in a startled tone. “Just trust me.”               “Umm… Fine, I guess.” You shrugged as he stepped back to admire his work. His focused expression broke into a proud smile as he moved to the side, uncovering the mirror just so you could see yourself. You looked hot, there’s no other way to put it. The color of the shirt complimented your skin tone beautifully, as well as the golden necklace that fell over your chest in a sensual way, capturing attention to your stripped neckline. “You look cuter than me, I can't have that... Come on, we’re switching. Take it off, now.”  Your handsome friend complained in a frisky tone, grabbing at the hem of his shirt as if he was about to pull it off. “I could never…” You challenged, feeling quite shy after his compliment. “Well, apparently you can.” “You look amazing though...” You complimented back. “Love the pants.” “Really? I think they make my ass look weird sometimes.” The boy confessed, turning around so you could check his bottoms. “I think your ass’s great.” You kind of regretted the conviction you uttered that sentence with. “I mean… in those pants.”

Harry sighed playfully. “I was enjoying the compliment, why did you have to ruin it?” 

“Fine, you can take the compliment then.” You granted easily. “Shouldn’t we get going? I’m sure it’s pretty late already…” “Ready?”           “Yes, let me just…” You ran to your purse, picking one of the lipsticks you had brought with you, applying it in front of the mirror while the charming man shoved his essential belongings into the pockets of his matching blazer and put it on, completing the look.       You noticed he was observing you with curiosity as you tinted your lips in a dark shade of brick orange. “Let’s go missy.” The boy rushed as you locked eyes with him through the mirror.   **

Even though you offered to drive to Claire’s house, he insisted on taking his car because he hadn’t driven in a while and wanted to before he got “rusty”.  As he was driving, you inquired him about who was hosting the party you were going to, since all he’d told you was that you were meeting your friends at Clare’s house and from there you would share a car, so that the whole group would get there together.          

To your surprise, when faced with your question he got quiet and you noticed his expression changing, he briefely took his eyes off the road to look at you and you could practically see the guilt in this face. “What is it?” You asked, wondering what he could be acting so weird about.  

“Hum yeah, about that…” He began to stammer, keeping his eyes stuck to the road.          

“Just tell me it’s not what I think it is.”    “Before you say anything, I know you’ll probably want to kill me right now…”   “Harry!”         “I knew you wouldn’t have come if I told you... It’s going to be fun, I promise! She’s not as bad as you think she is.”         “No Harry!” You fretted. “You know what? Just stop the car, I want to go home.”         

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”  

“I’m not kidding Harry.”               “I’m not dropping you off in the middle of the fucking freeway.”              

“Yes you are!” “No, I’m not.”   He kept driving and you let your body slip through the seat, crossing your arms in silence, resenting him for almost five minutes while he tried to convince you of how Alexa was way nicer than you thought and that she wasn’t really a bitch, it was just that her sense of humor could be a little off-putting sometimes. The way he was defending her made you feel even angrier, even though you weren’t really listening.               

In your head all you could think about was all the times you had the unpleasant surprise of bumping into Alexa. She was such a bitch! Always finding a way to put you down and make you feel embarassed. She even came up with a stupid nickname for you at Harry’s birthday party that she always made sure to use, even though she must’ve known you hated it.       “Just so you know, when we get to Claire’s I’m getting a cab and going home.” 

“Fine.” He jerked his shoulders dismissively. “If you want to miss out on a great time with our friends, it’s up to you.”             “When she’s there it’s never really a good time for me so I guess I’m good.”       “Come on…” Harry huffed, shifting his gaze off to road for a moment to check on his muddled friend. “Everyone was so excited to see you...”             You were mad that he lied to you, but you were madder that you had gotten all dressed up and now you weren’t going. You also missed your mutual friends and hanging out with them. You kept weighting the pros and the cons throughout the rest of the drive, and when you got to Claire’s house, after a little convincing from the group, you decided you were not going to let the fact that it was Alexa’s party ruin the night for you.        

You were still mad at Harry though. And having to go on another car trip with him, feeling his body pressing up against yours whenever there was a turnabout, wasn’t making it easy for you to keep your cool.              

As you finally got to Alexa’s house you could tell the house was packed by the number of cars parked outside, making you feel relieved you had a driver, because if you had to find a place to park it would’ve been a nightmare.        

There was a group of people lining up, and as you got closer you noticed two men by the door checking for the guests names on a list. You started to get worried that your friends might have omitted to Alexa that you were going, since you were almost certain that your presence wouldn’t please her any better than it did to you. You eyed their faces, looking for any sign of concern, however they seemed calm.

As you walked the line, you started to get more and more nervous, ending up momentarily swallowing your pride and pulling at Harry’s sleeve, in hopes of getting his attention without the rest of the group noticing. “Does Alexa know I’m coming to her party?” You asked as quietly as you could.    

“Of course she does! I told her myself.”

“What did she say?”    

He didn’t get to answer your question because he was approached by the doorkeeper, that asked him for his name. Harry politely greeted him before answering his question and being such a gentleman, he provided the names of the other members of the group.

The doorkeeper checked the names on the list and to your surprise your name was actually there. He allowed the group to get inside. All of you murmuring a brief “thank you” as you walked past the big guy.              

The door led to a giant lounge style living room, that seemed to be where the focus of the party was. To your right, there were three big windows, each with it’s own balcony, where small groups of people gathered to enjoy a smoke and the beautiful view of the city. In the middle of the room there was an open dance space, demarked by an enormous persian carpet, that was still pretty empty despite the fact the DJ was already playing.        

Behind the dance area there were two long tables, practically stuffed with different types of alcoholic beverages. It had to be one of the most diverse open bars you had ever seen at a house party.          From the ceiling fell party ribbons and lights, and the walls were adorned with baloons and paper decorations. You tried to decipher the color of the objects around you, but it was almost impossible due to the color changing lights that provided an hallucinogenic athmosphere to the space.

You looked around, trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. As your eyes scanned the place, they found couple of familiar faces, but they froze at a well-known face in the kitchen.        

There was Alexa… She was sitting over the counter, scrolling on her phone. Her glossy lips rested on the edge of the paper cup she was holding. The light from the screen illuminated her face, making her glittery eyeshadow pop behind the thick lashes that she was wearing. She was dressed in a two-toned metallic mini dress and knee-high platform boots. You could tell from her expression that she was distressed about something. Her stillness gave you the opportunity to study her face. Her features were quite angelical, something you had never noticed before.

The sound of something scattering on the kitchen floor woke her up from her daydream as she turned around to curse at whoever opened the kitchen cabinet. Yup, there’s the bitch, You mused to yourself.            

She jumped off the counter and walked out of the kitchen, making her way around the groups of people that were chattering by the door. She walked around the living room, trying to greet the people she hadn’t seen yet.

Your eyes briefly met hers before she approached your friends. They went for a group hug, in which you didn’t participate. Instead, you awkwardly stared at them while they hugged and chatted. Harry looked back at you, encouraging you to join them with an eye motion, you let out a sigh and moved closer to the group, what caught Alexa’s attention. “Hi Nutmeg! I haven’t seen you in a hot minute…” She greeted you by kissing the air next to your cheek, before looking you up and down. “I see you’ve upgraded your closet... It was about time.” The beautiful girl remarked, focusing her attention on the shirt you were wearing.        

You found yourself side-eyeing Harry, trying your hardest to ignore her taunting words. “I swear I’ve seen that somewhere... what brand is it?” Her question startled you. Prompting your head to tilt towards Harry, realizing he had mirrored the gesture to stare at you. You stood there staring at each other, both of you wishing you could read his mind. “Is there something I’m missing?” Alexa questioned, suspicious of your odd behaviour.          

“No, not at all!” Harry was quick to intervene. “I’m gonna go for a drink, anyone wants to join me?” He suggested, clearly attempting to brush off the topic.        

“I’ll go get the drinks.” You volunteered, taking the chance to escape and ditch Alexa’s question.

“Will you get me some jack and coke?” The girl requested, handing you her freshly empty cup. “Thanks.” She added when you grabbed it from her hand. It was probably the only time you actually felt pleased to fix Alexa a drink. “Harry, what do you want?” You called his attention back to you, upon realizing he was already engaged into conversation with someone you didn’t know.            

“Double Tequila, please.” You raised your brows at his choice of beverage. Already knowing that when he started the night with Tequila he would, most likely, end up drunk out of his mind. But you didn’t bother to try to coarce him into switching to something else. “Do you need an extra hand?” He offered out of politeness.        

“It’s fine, I’m sure I can handle it.” You spat as you left, not wanting to interrupt his conversation again.   

As the night went on, people started to gather mainly around the dance space, that was proving itself to be a little too small for the large amount of people using it. You were having a good time, but you were definitely not enjoying the feeling of getting rubbed all over by everyone around you. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered whatsoever. And as you predicted, he was already pretty out of it, prancing around the place and carelessly engaging into conversation with everyone who approached him, including people you knew he shit talked behind their back... The fake little bitch...       

You tried not to care, but you couldn’t keep yourself from constantly checking on him to see what he was up to. You weren’t the only one who couldn’t keep your eyes away from him.. What wasn’t unnusual, since he was such a natural attention-grabber. Howbeit, there were several girls and boys that were practically drooling at the sight of him. That wasn’t new either, but it didn’t make it any less annoying...        

When the boy finally made his way back to the group, he tried to convince you to dance with him by grabbing your hand and making you spin for him. You graciously brushed him off. Mostly out of shyness, persuading him into asking your friend John instead. He agreed on the spot... And once he finally managed to get his friend to bend at his will, they got everyone laughing and cheering, encouraging them to keep up with the tango dance moves. But it wasn’t long until the two boys had enough of the attention, laughing it off and joining the group again.          

Then a figure rose above the crowd. It was Alexa, who has just stood up on a table holding a microphone in her hand that she was slowly tapping on, attempting to grab everyone’s attention. “Hello, hello, hello my magnificent friends. How is everyone feeling tonight?” She asked, earning a loud cheer from the crowd, that she encouraged by clapping silently before speaking again. “Alright, alright... can y’all can shut the fuck up now? …I just wanted to say that I hope everyone is getting drunk and having a great time. You know me, I gotta be real with you… There are some people here I’d much rather had stayed home, but you know what? You don’t really bother me.” The girl shrugged haughtily. “With that said, I’d like to propose a toast to every single one of you motherfuckers that came to my party. Cheers, bitches!” She yelled the last two words, emptying her cup in a single swig while the crowd cheered and downed their own cups along with the host.

The fact that Alexa let you in had given you the impression that maybe Harry was right about her, but her speech left a bad taste in your mouth and made you wonder if you were one of the people she was talking about, you were almost certain you were. “What did you say earlier about her being a nice person?” You ironically asked Harry, that was standing right beside you.        

Your eyes were still stuck on her as you wondered if she would manage to get down from the table without falling. You secretly hoped she wouldn’t.            

He failed to answer your question, so you turned to him. Only to realize that he wasn’t there anymore. Your eyes quickly danced around the room, searching for your missing friend, and unfortunatly it wasn’t long until they found him...  

Your whole body went cold, feeling your heart sink in your chest. Your vision felt blurry, and there was a complicated knot forming at the tip of your stomach. There he was. Barely six feet away from you. With his back flush against a wall and his lips pressed harshly on somebody else’s. His hands gently caressed up the other boy’s back, that had his hands firmly clutched onto your friend’s hair and the back of his neck.            

You felt like your whole world was crashing down in front of you.            

Whilst everyone around you was enjoying themselves, all you wanted to do was collapse to your knees and scream your confusing pain away, but you couldn’t. There was nothing you could do and it just fucking hurt.            

You’d always known it would eventually happen... But nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling of watching the person you love fondling somebody else.    

In the middle of your agony, you noticed a pair of hazel eyes staring right at you from distance, breaking your attention from the heartbreaking scene. “Yo... What the fuck?!” You couldn’t hear her words, but you could read them clearly through the motion of her lips. She looked completely baffled by the state of you.

You stepped back, attempting your best to muffle into the crowd, but it was too late... You were certain she’d saw the devastated look on your face, and the glistening tear that rolled down your cheek afterwards.

You turned your back on the scene and pushed through the crowd, hidding your face as you stumbled upon almost everyone on your way to the bathroom. You locked yourself inside and leaned against the door, finally letting it all out as you sobbed uncontrollably and allowed for your body to slide down the surface, until your knees met the cold marble floor.    

A unexpected loud banging on the door startled you. “It’s occupied.” Y/N shouted, in the most composed voice she could fabricate.  

“It’s Alexa... open the door.” The girl shouted back impatiently.    

“Fuck off Alexa!” You could feel your blood boil and your hands trembling at the mere sound of her voice. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

There was silence for a moment, before she banged on the door harder. You tried to ignore it because considering your state, at the slighest provocation you’d probably lose it and punch her in the face. “Don’t be a fucking bitch, I’m here to help.” Alexa shouted again, but it was pointless. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll have to ask someone to kick the door down...”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”          

“It’s my house. What are you going to do about it?” She challenged, knowing you couldn’t fight her on that. “You have three seconds… one...two…” You flang the door open before she could finish her countdown, causing her to tremble ever so slightly. “Quite the charm, aren’t you?” She sighed satirically, making her way inside the bathroom while fixing her dress. You noticed she was holding a bottle of Bacardi rum, that she promptly opened and handed to you. You stood there perplexedly looking at her, trying to figure out what her intentions were. “Are you going to take it or not?” At that, you abruptly grabbed the bottle from her hand and took it to your lips, taking a big chug and giving it back with a disgusted expression caused by the intense alcohol sting. Alexa took the bottle to her lips as well, but unlike you, her face didn’t even flinch. “What did you come here for?” The sharpness of your tone led her into giving you a dirty look “What do you think? That I came in here to make fun of you?”            

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”     “Just thought you could use a friend...” She explained, jumping on her bum to sit on the countertop. “And luckily for you, so do I.”  

“Judging by the number of people outside, I’m sure you have plenty of friends.”  

She let out a silent wheeze at your guess. “Everything isn’t always what it seems, Nutmeg… I have people that keep me company, but when it comes down to the real shit, I have no one I can count with really…”        

“I’m finding that quite hard to believe if I’m honest…”               “I know you are. So is everyone else. They all assume my life is just perfect. After all, I have everything, don’t I? I don’t blame them... I know I can be cruel and bitter sometimes, but I’m not the cold-hearted, super confident bitch everyone thinks that I am.”   “Why are you telling me all that?”          

“I don’t know… Maybe ‘cause I’m drunk and lonely and you’re one of the few people here that I actually like…” You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re messing with me, right?”  She, on the other hand, seemed rather confused by your apprehensiveness. “I appreciate people like you... Who manage to stay true to themselves despite hanging out with these people. It’s so easy to lose yourself in this environment... But I don’t think you did, and I can appreciate that.”  

“I’m just lucky to have good friends... If they were different, I don’t know if I’d stayed so nice and humble.”      

As the silence settled, you took the chance to sit down on the edge of her expensive looking bathtub. “So… changing the subject. You and Harry, what’s the deal?”  

“What do you mean?” You pretended you didn’t know what she was implying, hoping she would let go of the topic.

“I’m not stupid. I saw the way you looked when he was all over that guy… I confess I had no idea that you were into him. I thought you liked girls, I could almost swear he had told me that.” Her words made your stomach twist, and Alexa didn’t miss your distressed expression. “Sorry... I’m not very good with words. I didn’t mean to make it worse.” The girl added, trying to make up for her cold stance. “Here...” She handed you back the bottle, and you agreeably to a swig from it. “Does he know?”

“I don’t think so...”   “I don’t mean to be unpleasant but I think he thinks you’re a lesbian.”   “Yeah, I know…  he’s not completely wrong, I guess.”     “So, you’re bi?”               “I don’t really know what I am.”               “Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to be anything, you can just be… yourself!” You locked eyes with her, briefely smiling at her motivational words “How long have you fancied him for?”

“I don’t know...” You stared down at your own feet. “Thinking back, I guess I always kind of have... but it’s complicated. So I just hoped it would go away with time... Besides, you’ve seen the people he gets with. They’re all gorgeous, and I... I mean, I don’t really meet the standards, do I?”         “And how’s that working out for you?” You went quiet, since you didn’t really have a good answer to give. “Okay, here’s what I think you should do. First of all, you gotta stop with the self loathing. It’s depressing and outdated. You’re just as valid as everyone else.”

“It’s not self loathing. You don’t understand… What if he pushes me away? I really care for our friendship and I don’t want to throw it all away because of a stupid crush.”     “A stupid crush? Didn’t you just say you’ve always liked him? How long have you known eachother for? Three years?”   “Well… Two and half, but it’s not like I’ve been waiting for him… I’ve had my fair share of relationships and so did he, I never did anything to change that. Why would I start now?”       “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re at a party, locked inside a bathroom, crying over him, while he’s out there screwing somebody else.”           “God, you’re certainly are awful with words aren’t you?”             “I take pride in my honesty.” She stated. “Look, all I can say is that I think this whole “crush” situation is, obviously, far more than a crush... And you know I’m right so don’t even bother to deny it. Therefore, I think it’s long overdue that you do something about how you feel, otherwise you’re just gonna be stuck wondering on the what ifs forever, watching him live his life while you’re unable to move on with your yours, and you deserve better than that. Anyone deserves better than that.”       “It’s just… scary.”   “Isn’t everything worth trying always somewhat scary at first?”   You ended up spending the rest of the night with Alexa. Sitting inside her large empty bathtub, sharing your shittiest life experiences and drowning your sorrows with the bottle of rum. She told you about her crazy ex-boyfriend, and how he had been making her life a living hell since their break up. Showing up uninvited at her work, her parties, and practically everywhere she went, despite her telling him time and time again to stop and leave her alone. You advised her the best you could, but as you expected, she was pretty stubborn and acted as if she had everything under control, even though she clearly did not. The night had taken a unexpected turn for you, however, at least there was something positive you could also take from it, that being the friendship that was beggining to fluorish between you and Alexa. 

You were so deep in conversation that you completely lost track of time, so much that you finally felt tired and decided to check you phone for the time, it was already 6AM.

You had seven missed calls and fifteen text messages from your friends asking where you were, if you were okay and if you were still leaving with them. You realized they had probably already left, so you just apologized for leaving early and informed them that you were fine. When you and Alexa got out of the bathroom, there were still a couple of people hanging around, but as expected, the vast majority had already left.         

The light coming from the windows hurt your tired eyes and your bottom half was hurting from spending so many hours sitting inside a bathtub. By that time, all you wanted to do was go home, take a shower and take a nap to make up for the all nighter you pulled, but then you remembered…      

“Shit!”

“What?”

“I left my car at Harry’s house.”              

I hope you’re enjoying it so far! Chapter II is hereeee!

[frobster]

Offer of a Lifetime: Chapter 2

Both chapters now up on ao3!

☆☆☆

Peter stayed where he was for a moment, shocked by what had just happened, before his phone buzzed again and brought him back to himself. He looked down at the number of missed messages and quickly read through them, MJ becoming increasingly frantic when Peter didn’t immediately answer.

> Peter: So, James was just in my apartment

> Peter: Also, he told me to call him Bucky

The buzzing started again before Peter could even lock his phone. He ignored it as he went around getting dressed, pulling on underwear and sweatpants before checking again.

> MJ: PETER WHAT THE FUCK

> Ned: BRO ARE YOU OKAY???

> Peter: I’m fine. He left. Gave me a week to think about his offer. Also said he would leave me alone completely if I turned him down

> MJ: And u believed him???????????

> Peter: He didn’t give me a reason not to. There weren't any threats, and he did wait wait a whole day before contacting me

> Ned: Sugar daddy already getting to you smh

> Peter: Come on, you know it would be amazing to have a sugar daddy

> MJ: Ya but this one could put u in a lot of danger

Peter bit his lip as he thought. MJ was right. While it was his dream to be a kept boy and never have to worry about anything, he wasn’t sure if it was worth the dangers associated with Bucky. He would definitely need the whole week to think.

> MJ: We’re gonna talk more tonight. I’ll see u at 7:45

> Peter: Sounds good 

Bucky was at the forefront of Peter’s mind for the rest of the day. He didn’t really have anything to do until the evening, so he lounged around much like the previous day and tried to find more on the internet about Bucky. 

“Where did that name even come from?” Peter muttered to himself as he clicked on yet another tabloid article. The gossip papers had a lot to speculate about him since they loved to lie about crime and drama. He mostly skimmed the articles since they all seemed to be sensationalized and mostly rumors. 

One thing that stood out to Peter was the consistent inclusion of a broad blonde man almost always on Bucky’s right. The few pictures that weren’t blurry or grainy made the man seem relatively attractive, and Peter had to wonder if he was a past fling or just a confidante. Bucky obviously liked men, given his interest in Peter, but that still didn’t confirm anything.

The day oozed by in a cloud of laziness - naps, articles, snacks. Peter didn’t leave the couch except to get a snack or use the bathroom. By the time 6pm rolled around, Peter finally got up to start getting ready. He never took too long, but he didn’t want to rush either. The weather was still decent, so he decided on a pair of shorts that would help show off his legs and a mesh tank top that wouldn’t really cover anything. Beneath the shorts, he had red panties. Even if it led to him getting misgendered more often, the panties did help him get more money out of clients. 

Peter ran his hands through his hair to make it fluffy and messy, swiped some gloss over his lips before tucking the tube into his bag, then looked at his measly pile of shoes. There weren’t many to choose from and most of them were bought purely for style rather than function. He ended up going back to his room to grab a pair of knee-high socks before sliding on a pair of black high-top sneakers. People still liked scene twinks, right? The socks would help keep his legs warm too once the sun went down and the air got cooler.

Picking his outfit didn’t take very long, so Peter was left with almost an hour until he had to leave. Then he remembered that Ned and MJ went grocery shopping for him, so he took a tour of his own kitchen to see what they got for him. Most of it was canned goods so it wouldn’t go to waste if he didn’t eat it quickly, but there were some fresher foods too like prepackaged salads and frozen chicken. 

Settling on the chicken and a salad, Peter hauled out the bag of chicken tenders to check the required oven temperature. He got the oven set and preheating before wandering back to his couch and flopping over the back of it. Upon checking his phone, he finally saw the few messages from Bucky that he missed while showering.

> I’m coming to visit soon. Try to look presentable.

Sent almost as soon as Peter stepped into the shower. He grimaced at the bad timing and scrolled down to read the rest, sent after Bucky had left.

> Obviously you did not see my message beforehand, as I assume a towel around your waist and a bare chest is not what you would typically consider “presentable”.

> You have until next Wednesday to make your decision. If you do not give me an answer before then, I will assume you’re uninterested and leave you alone, like I promised.

Peter sighed and reread the messages a few times. Then he saved Bucky’s contact number before taking another screenshot to send to his friends.

> Peter: See? I told you he would leave me alone if I turned him down

> MJ: I guess he may not be such a terrible person…

> Ned: He literally runs the New York mafia

> MJ: Yeah, but he knows how to treat a boy right

> Peter: I’m feeling heart emojis. Should I change his name in my phone to Daddy?

> Ned: NO!!!!!!!

> MJ: skjghalfaldfk YES

> Ned: Do NOT encourage him!!

Peter laughed to himself and quickly changed Bucky’s contact name to ‘Daddy’ followed by pink and purple heart emojis. Then he took another screenshot of the saved contact and sent it to the chat. 

> MJ: I expect updates every time he texts you. We have to decide if he’s good enough for our baby

> Ned: I will not approve of Peter being the kept boy of the HEAD OF THE NEW YORK MAFIA

> Peter: Aw dad, you’re no fun

> Ned: Don’t make me ground you

> MJ: Not allowed, Peter and I have work tonight

> MJ: Maybe daddy will bring us some coffee

> Peter: Hey! Only I am allowed to call him daddy

> MJ: Aw, possessive already? ;)

> Peter: ...maybe

> Ned: I’m doomed. We’re all doomed

Their casual, friendly conversation continued for a while until Ned had to put his phone away for class. Peter and MJ switched to single texting as they talked about their plans for that night. She had got them a new corner a few blocks away from where Bucky had picked Peter up, but they both knew that Bucky could find them again if he really wanted to. 

The oven soon beeped so Peter got up to put a couple chicken tenders on a pan and into the oven. He set a timer on his phone then looked around his apartment as he tried to figure out what to do to pass the time.

But rather than finding something to do, Peter just realized how shitty his apartment really was. The walls were thin and dirty, there was a crack spiderwebbing up the wall in a corner, the floors were stained and worn out from countless tenants. He sighed and slumped against the kitchen counter, a cheap laminated wood that creaked even under his slight weight. There were multiple different bug problems through the building - cockroaches, ants, spiders, wasps. He had a roach problem in his own apartment, leading to all food in the cabinets needing to be canned so they couldn't chew into it. 

It was exhausting to live in poverty. Peter hated his apartment but it was all he could really afford. The life insurance policy from his aunt was used to pay off his surgery bills and the rest was funneled to any other medical costs that came up, including his hormone prescription. While he did have some money in savings, it would not be enough to allow him to live somewhere better. He was losing money faster than he made it back.

Bucky’s offer was slowly becoming more and more attractive.

When the timer went off on his phone, Peter swiped it away before carefully taking out the tray of chicken. He set it on the stove to let it cool while he took out the prepared salad bag and set to mixing everything together. Then, since he didn’t feel like using multiple dishes, he cut up the chicken on the baking pan and scraped the pieces into the salad bowl.

“Yeah, I can provide for myself,” Peter said to himself before taking a bite. 

The salad was filling and Peter actually felt like he had a decent amount of energy. He took the time to wash all the dishes he used rather than trying to jam them into the dishwasher, brushed his teeth, reapplied his lip gloss, then checked the time. 

MJ had sent a few more messages with details of their shift that night, and Ned announced the end of his class and the offer of searching Bucky more. Peter bit his lip as he considered it. If he was going to really give Bucky’s offer some serious consideration, he felt he needed to know the man better. Or he could just text Bucky.

Before he could chicken out, Peter sent a quick text to Bucky and pocketed his phone so he could finalize his outfit and wait for MJ.

> Peter: If you want me to live with you, I’m gonna need to know more about you.

There wasn’t any reply before MJ arrived. Peter sighed as he looked at his lack of notifications before he tucked his phone away, grabbed his bag, and headed out to meet MJ.

There was some tension in the car as a lackey drove Peter and MJ to their new corner. The random guy was humming along to music on the radio while the other two held hands in the back of the car. He didn’t say anything as he stopped at a new corner and unlocked the door, a clear signal for them to get out.

Peter stepped out with his mini backpack shouldered and fixed his shorts once he was standing. MJ followed him out and fixed her skirt too, her own bag slung across her chest and accenting her cleavage. Another reason why MJ was slightly better off than Peter was her assets. People just tended to want her more often than him. He wasn’t upset about that, he knew his friend was gorgeous and she deserved the attention and money. He just couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of her slightly better financial state.

“Did Bucky say anything else?” MJ asked as the car drove off. 

“Nope. I don’t really know what he would say,” Peter replied, hyper-aware of his phone in his pocket. He couldn’t remember if it had buzzed while they were in the car since his mind was wandering. Already, just one day after meeting the man, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky.

8pm wasn’t very late, the bars were just starting to fill up. Peter and MJ had time to talk before people would start showing interest in them. The sunset was nice to watch and offered a serene backdrop to the chaos of their lives, purples and reds blending together like the mundane and unusual of the past few days.

“I would think that he would try to sweeten the deal somehow, y’know? You’ve clearly been hesitant about accepting his offer, so wouldn’t he want to tempt you?” MJ looked at her nails and flicked a speck of invisible dust off the shiny finish, then winked at someone who was looking at her as they stepped into the nearby bar.

“I dunno how much sweeter the deal could get. He offered to pay for everything for the rest of my life, or leave me alone without any trouble. It’s a win-win situation.” Even to his own ears, Peter knew it sounded lame. He was so tempted to accept Bucky’s offer, and MJ could clearly hear that in his voice.

“You deserve to know more about him at least. Even Ned had a hard time finding anything on this guy. And now that we know he’s got some dangerous connections, it would be in your best interest to find out everything you can before making a decision, especially since you’re tempted to agree.” Peter MJ would’ve been an excellent counselor. Maybe she still could be. If they ever found themselves in a position to start saving up money, she could put it towards college classes.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just not-” Peter cut off when he felt his phone vibrate against his ass. He reached into his back pocket to pull it out and blinked as he read the message.

> Bucky: We could discuss that over dinner, if you’d like. I know you’re working, but I could talk to your boss and have him pardon you for the night.

Before Peter could reply to the text or finish what he was saying, MJ snatched his phone away to read the message.

“Hey! Give that back!” Peter squawked as he tried to grab his phone back.

But MJ was taller than him even without the heels she was wearing, so she just held the phone up and angled it down so she could read the screen. She laughed aloud when she read the message and finally lowered her hand again so Peter could have his phone back. He huffed as he stuffed it into his pocket again without bothering to answer.

“It’s cute that he’s already offering to cover your shifts for you. Maybe he’ll even give you some cash to make up for missing a whole night,” MJ teased with a grin. Peter felt too flustered to really register that she seemed to be encouraging him to leave with Bucky.

“There is nothing cute about this situation,” Peter huffed, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. He wasn’t really sure what he was embarrassed about. Maybe he didn’t realize how tempted he was to accept Bucky’s offer until MJ gave him that little nudge.

“Well, you’re pretty cute. It’s cute how often you blush when we talk about him.” MJ’s tone was more genuine that time, and Peter felt a little surprised.

“Did Ned tell you something else about this guy? Why do you seem so supportive of him now?” There was another buzz in Peter’s pocket but he ignored it, wanting to hear MJ’s answer first.

“You deserve a good life, Peter.” She looked at him, entirely serious, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been through so much and you’re only nineteen. I want you to be happy, to have opportunities that we could never find in this line of work.”

“MJ…” 

Before Peter could say more, his phone started buzzing like he had a call. He sighed and reached into his pocket, making a brief note that it was Bucky calling before he answered.

“Hello?”

“You didn’t answer my text, Peter. So I called your boss anyway. I’m coming to pick you up. Would MJ like to join us for dinner?”

Peter just squeaked, his jaw dropped open as he tried to think of what to say. MJ rolled her eyes and snatched the phone away again so she could talk for him.

“Hi, Bucky. Peter would love to go to dinner with you, but he seems to have forgotten how to speak.” She snickered at whatever Bucky said, Peter watching with wide eyes as she spoke with him so casually. “Aw, thank you! I would love to join you for dinner. If you intend to steal my boy away, I have to see if you’re worth his time.”

“MJ!” Peter finally came back to his senses and made a grab for his phone, but she held him back just like before.

“Yeah, that was him. He’s just so excited to see you again. We’ll be waiting for you!” MJ hung up the phone before handing it back to Peter with a grin. “He will be here in about fifteen minutes so zip up your hoodie and try to not look like such a whore.”

Peter swatted at MJ’s arm, making her cackle loudly as she pulled a balled-up shawl out of her bag to wrap around her shoulders and cover up her chest. She tended to wear shirts that showed off her cleavage but now that she wasn’t actively trying to attract customers, she wanted to look more modest. Peter had a sleeveless hoodie that he zipped over his mesh tank top, though he started to feel overheated after just a few minutes.

The hoodie got unzipped again as Peter rocked restlessly in place, anxious and eager to see Bucky again. MJ was updating Ned since Peter was too scared to look at his phone, snickering to herself every now and then.

Soon enough, a sleek black car pulled up. The windows were so heavily tinted that they looked black, but neither of them had to guess at who was inside. MJ tucked her phone away and Peter stepped closer to her, seeking out her familiar comfort as his nerves spiked.

The back window rolled down and a familiar face was revealed. Bucky looked at them both before nodding and pushing the door open.

“Come on, we got reservations in twenty minutes,” he said as he shifted to a seat on the other side of the car.

MJ stepped in first then tugged Peter in with her. She sat across from Bucky and not-so-subtly nudged Peter over to sit next to him. The seats were smooth and cool, and Peter was thankful for the air conditioning that let him zip up his hoodie again to hide his chest. Bucky had already seen him shirtless, but he felt awkward about it now.

The car pulled away from the curb as soon as the door was closed. Peter didn’t have a chance to buckle in so he swayed and ended up leaning into Bucky for a moment. He blushed and scooted away so he could clip his seat belt, then sat quietly and picked at the hem of his socks. 

“So,” MJ started casually. “You’re who Peter has a crush on.”

“I do not!” Peter insisted, head snapping up so he could glare at MJ. She just grinned at him as Bucky made an amused sound.

“A crush, huh? That’s cute.” Bucky tucked his phone away and looked over to Peter with a smirk. “Have you given my offer any more thought?”

“It’s been like, six hours,” Peter pointed out, feeling a little more confident with MJ there to back him up.

“Plenty of time to think.” Bucky was watching Peter, eyes glued to him as he waited for a proper answer.

“I mean…” Peter sighed and slumped back against his seat. He did want to say yes, to agree and let Bucky carry him off into the sunset like some perfect romantic dream. It just didn’t feel real.

“We need some proof that you’re the real deal,” MJ finally said.

Bucky’s gaze flicked over to her as he raised an eyebrow. He clearly wasn’t someone who was used to being challenged like that, and for a moment, Peter feared for MJ. But then Bucky laughed and Peter’s heart skipped a beat at the sound. 

“Conveniently enough, that is why I invited you along tonight. It’s good to know Peter has a friend looking out for him.”

“Two friends,” MJ corrected. “Ned has been diligently mining through the internet for information about you. He is the only reason why I agreed to dinner.”

Peter huffed as a faint blush dusted his cheeks. MJ was acting like her and Ned were his parents, and he was feeling a little embarrassed about that. Sure, he was the youngest out of the three of them, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t handle himself. 

“Two friends,” Bucky amended. Then his gaze turned back to Peter and he reached over to gently rub the boy’s back. “You can relax, Peter. I promise my intentions with you are honorable.”

“And what exactly are your intentions?” Peter looked up again, finally meeting Bucky’s eyes.

There was a moment of hesitation and even MJ could feel the electricity hanging between Bucky and Peter.

“I want to take care of you the way you deserve. To spoil you, pamper you, give you anything you could ever want or need.” Bucky sounded honest and there was no nervous tic that would clue Peter in to a lie. But he still couldn’t believe it. 

“Why?”

Another pause. Bucky looked torn between brushing it off and turning to a new subject, coming up with some flowery words that didn’t really answer the question, or actually telling the truth. He took a deep breath to steel his nerves, and decided on the last.

“You are beautiful. Handsome, gorgeous. Whatever term you’re most comfortable with. You are like a work of art, and I don’t want to see you waste away in the streets. You deserve so much more and what am I gonna do with all this money anyway? Hell, you could turn me down here and now and I would still send you money every week. I just want you to be happy.”

Peter blinked. He hadn’t expected such an emotional answer, but he felt touched by it. A quick glance over to MJ showed that she felt affected by it too, her eyes wide in surprise. For all the research the three of them had done, they never would’ve thought Bucky was the sentimental sort of guy.

“Oh.” Peter’s voice was faint as he tried to process all that Bucky said.

Bucky swore under his breath and leaned back in his seat. He had moved closer to Peter as he spoke, but now he felt he should give the younger man some space. But to everyone’s surprise, Peter reached out and set a hand on Bucky’s knee before managing a smile.

“I appreciate that, Bucky. I really do. Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence before Bucky cleared his throat and nodded. He gave Peter a tight smile, seeming a little less confident than when they first got in the car. Then the car stopped before anyone could say anything else and Bucky looked away to the window beside him.

“Ah, looks like we’re here. Don’t worry, it isn’t anywhere too fancy. I figured you two wouldn’t really be dressed for that.”

Bucky’s confidence seemed to slowly come back as he smirked and got out of the car. Then he held out a hand for MJ, and reached out again for Peter once she was standing. But unlike with MJ, Bucky didn’t let go of Peter’s hand. And Peter didn’t really mind. 

☆☆☆

[twistedsinews]

Cyberpunk 2077: V

V [Background: Nomad] [Skillset: Infiltration, Sharpshooting, Explosives] [Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077]

V grew up in the badlands, and managed a pretty happy childhood under the stars.  Her mother was cityfolk, left the nomad life when V was still quite a young kid to return to it, and V never heard from her again.  She was subsequently raised by her father and grandmother, among the rest of the family.

She landed in Night City almost completely by chance.  It was survival.  It could have been any city; it happened to be this one.

She and Jackie hit it off almost immediately.  Almost, because she had her doubts after he came clean about how he planned to fuck her over on the smuggling deal, but he also came through by saving her ass when she wandered off to have an eventful up close and personal in her first couple of days of city life.

After that, they were fairly inseparable, socially and professionally, as they climbed their way up through the merc world.  Along the way, V gained a reputation for honesty, integrity, and speaking her mind.  Most people think she can't lie, but really that just makes it easier on her when she does.  She also tends to ask a lot of questions, which sometimes puts clients off, but she's not known for gossip - she just wants to know what she's getting into.  She can read people pretty well.

She doesn’t have a whole lot of chrome.  Never had the money for it, and most of what she’s managed in the early days was second rate.  But she makes good use of what she has.

She has a habit of scavenging.  Sometimes directly off marks, sometimes just what she finds in the field or after a firefight.  She has quite the collection of junk she's acquired, and she doesn't see thieving as dishonorable.  I’m pretty sure there have been times when she and Jackie were shaking someone down for a job and she was just leaving it to him while flitting around taking whatever struck her fancy.

Even after years, she still finds life in the city beyond strange at times, and she's always happy to connect with other nomads.  She misses the stars the most.  But she was mostly content with what she built.  She has a love of stimulation - adventures, vistas, music, dancing, experiences - and there's always something new to try in Night City.  She also has her city family: She, Jackie, and Misty eventually landed themselves in a sorta stable relationship between the three of them - even if V tends to wander at times - and she gets on well with Jackie's mother, Vik, and T-Bug - the latter being hard won, but they developed their own rapport and they connected well enough V still considers her a friend.

Jackie and T-Bug's deaths changed everything, including her attitude.  She lost the happiness spark.  She drifted apart from Vik and even further from Misty and Jackie's mom.  In a lot of ways, she shut down.

And that's not even taking into account having her mind partially overwritten by a virtual ghost half-insane she only half understands, half the time.  Though eventually she did bond with Silverhand.  It was surreal - in that he isn't and yet he is very real - but she managed.  He lost everything, and so did she.

Although she did make new friends after, she also held herself apart from everyone else emotionally.  Difficult, as she has a particular weakness towards being alone.  She feels like she gets Takemura, would even like him... except he's still the enemy.  She's a little unnerved by Panam, not because they don't get along but because they share so much in common yet Panam still has her everything.  Judy... comes across as oddly young to her, although they're unlikely that far apart in age, and V is a little protective of her as a result.  She's not sure if she's friends with Kerry or if that's just Johnny's influence, but she does like him even if he's a bit strange and it's kinda neat hanging out with a rockstar.  She finds River sweet despite the badge and kinda likes him back, but she feels like that way lies misery and doesn't want to put him through that; plus she's not sure she could offer the kind of stability he seems to be looking for even if her life wasn't in a weeks past dead boyfriend/estranged girlfriend snarl.

All things told, I'm pretty sure she's made a pass at: Jackie, Misty, Vik, T-Bug, Johnny Silverhand, Takemura, Rogue, River, Panam, Saul, Claire, Placide, Kerry, and... others... I'm sure I'm forgetting.  Though I imagine she was mostly only teasing with Johnny.

I don't know which ending is canon for her.  They all make sense in different ways.

Sadly I have yet to take screengrabs, but blurry CC photo shall do well enough:

I half suspect her name is in fact simply Vee.

[storiesforallfandoms]

feeling used ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2105

request?: yes!

@kellysimagines : “I was wondering if you could write a imagine where the reader is a hairdresser and she is best friends with Rook and he introduces her to mgk and they become really close and after a couple of dates they started dating and she goes with him too premieres and shows and stuff and he gives her presents and stuff and people in the media think she is using him for the fame and money and he is on tour and he somehow believes it and we break up and one day he finds out his ex spread the rumor and he comes to my salon and he apoligizes and he proposes there?”

description: when rumors start about the relationship between a super successful rapper and a normal hairdresser, they start to get to colson’s head, and he makes the worst decision

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

the ex in question i’ll be using is chantel, but i just want everyone to know that i don’t have anything against chantel irl. i don’t even really know her all that well XD

Dating someone famous was as both amazing and tiring at the same time, and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

You were just a normal hair dresser, nothing to extravagant, just a hair dresser in a local salon in downtown LA. Sometimes famous people came in, but the place wasn’t anything that anyone famous was raving about. But you liked it that way, you preferred the smallness of the salon, and of your life. The only big, show business thing in your life was that your best friend was a drummer for some famous rapper that you hadn’t really heard of until your friend started touring with him. And that’s when your life truly got crazy.

Rook introduced you to Colson and it was like love at first sight. You both clicked right away, and after a few dates you decided to make it official. You started joining Colson on red carpets for his movies and to parties for his album releases. He bought you anything and everything you could ever want, and had you spoiled within months of being together. Not that any of that mattered. You were just happy to be with him.

Of course, with a relationship with a famous celebrity came hate. The hate started just a month after your relationship, and at first it was the usual “you don’t deserve to be with him”, “you’re a skank”, “lmao he deserves better” type comments, which were easy to ignore. But within the past month or so, things escalated. People were claiming that you had been using Colson to get publicity. Someone had told the press that ever since you and Colson had started dating, you started getting lots of clients, especially famous ones, and that once you were big enough you were going to dump him.

That couldn't be more wrong. Your clientele stayed the same after you started dating Colson. You never once mentioned that you were a hairdresser or for where in any interviews, not that you really got involved in many of Colson’s interviews anyways. The hate didn’t bug you, however. You were so in love with Colson that you could care less what anyone else thought about you.

You were finishing up a clients hair one day when one of your colleague’s clients stopped to look at you.

“Are you (Y/N)?” she asked. “MGK’s girlfriend?”

“I am,” you said with a smile.

She glared at you and hissed, “Attention whore!” before turning and walking out of the salon. You rolled your eyes. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence either.

“What was that about?” your client asked. She was a regular, a nice lady in her mid 40s that came in at least once a month to get her hair re-dyed. She was probably one of your favourite clients.

“Just some fangirl of my boyfriend who believes I’m using him for attention,” you told her. “It’s nothing new, I’ve been over it for so long.”

“You really don’t deserve that. You’re such a nice girl!” she told you. You smiled gratefully at her.

“Hey, (Y/N),” called the receptionist of the salon. “Call for you, says it’s your boyfriend.”

“Tell him to give me a minute, I’m just finishing with a client.”

When you finished up and sent your client along her merry way, you almost skipped with happiness over to the phone and answered with a cheery, “Hey baby!”

There was a brief pause. Confused, you repeated, “Colson? You still there?”

“Hey (Y/N),” came his familiar voice. You wanted to smile, talking to Colson always made you smile, but he didn’t sound very happy. You furrowed your brow in worry.

“Are you okay, babe?” you asked him.

“We need to talk.”

The worst four words to hear from anyone. The look on your face must’ve alerted your receptionist that something was wrong as she got up from her chair and offered it to you, saying she was going to “check on something”.

You sat down on the chair. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

“I...I don’t think we should continue our relationship.”

And just like that, your heart ripped in two. You tried not to start crying, since the salon was currently filled with your coworkers and their clients. You took deep breaths to stop yourself from crying.

“Why?” you asked him. “Colson, what’s wrong?”

Colson sighed. “I just...I don’t like this feeling that you’re using me, (Y/N).”

Your eyes widened then. “What? Colson, don’t tell me you believe those rumours. You know I’m not using you for fame! I haven’t gained anything from our relationship other than just getting to be with you. You can even ask my coworkers if you want, I haven’t gotten any new clients or any new publicity.”

“It just doesn’t feel like a relationship,” Colson continued. “We don’t even talk all that much since I’ve been on tour, and I’m always buying you things - “

“You insist on buying me things!” you cut him off. “And I work all day. I text you before work, I text you on my breaks, and we facetime every night. I can’t talk to you all day when we’re both busy, Colson.”

He was silent before simply saying, “Goodbye (Y/N).”

You held the phone to your ear listening to the dial tone for a moment longer. You couldn’t believe that Colson actually believed the rumors! How could he believe you were using him? After all the amazing times you spent together the past year, all the private moments, the kisses, the “I love you”s that you genuinely meant. And he really chose to believe some internet trolls over his own girlfriend.

One of you coworkers noticed your blank stare and come over to ask if you were okay. You merely shook your head. She took the phone from your ear and placed it back on the desk before calling for the receptionist.

“Cancel any other appointments (Y/N) has for today,” she told her. “Put them in any openings she has for the next few days.”

“I can’t just cancel for no reason,” you said, although you felt numb and you knew working like this was a bad idea.

“I don’t know what just happened on the phone but I know it’s hindering your ability to work,” you coworker said. “Go home, get some sleep, cry if you have to. If you want, when I’m off, I’ll grab some wine and come over and we can drink and talk shit.”

You smiled gratefully and stood from the chair. You felt like you were going to pass out, but you powered through it and made it to your car. The minute the door closed, you started crying.

~~~~~~

Weeks came and passed and you hadn’t heard a single word from Colson. But you were seeing plenty about him online. It was as if the day after you broke up he was being seen partying with girls, getting flirty. One tabloid even reported that two days after your breakup he was spotted leaving a party with some girl. You came to the conclusion that this was the real reason he had broken up with you, which hurt even more because it felt like he didn’t even care about you. That the whole year you two had spent together and he really threw it away and started hooking up with other girls in a matter of days.

You decided to throw yourself into your work. You packed your days with as many clients as you could, and when you didn’t have clients you were practising new hairstyles on the mannequins. It kept you busy enough that you didn't think about Colson.

Unfortunately, the breakup also resulted in your friendship with Rook being damaged. You two barely spoke, and when you did it was very obviously awkward. Rook never called or facetimed you like he used to, mainly because he spent basically every moment he was on tour with Colson, and some days you could barely bring yourself to text him because it just reminded you too much of the relationship you had just lost.

As the days turned into weeks, it seemed like getting over Colson was getting easier. You were starting to push every bit of sadness you had out of your mind, and you were doing pretty good at blocking out the memories of you past year together. You were recovering just fine, until the bell over the door at the salon rang one day and a familiar tall man stood there.

You stared at him for a long time as he just stared back, his blue eyes filled with sadness. You rolled your eyes and turned away.

“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked. All your coworkers knew what Colson had done to you, and they were equally as angry at him. In fact, the girls were glaring at him in a way that you were sure he was going to die on the spot.

“No, but I’d like to talk to (Y/N) for a minute,” he said.

“She’s busy,” the receptionist responded. “Booked up solid for about a week. Want to make an appointment for next Friday?”

Colson shook his head and walked right past her. She called after him but he ignored her and walked right up to you. You ignored him for a moment, working on finishing up your clients hair, before turning to glare at him. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk,” he responded.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, you talked quite enough when you accused me of using you. I’m busy, go away.”

He grabbed your arm, almost causing you to cut a wrong spot on your client’s hair. “What the fuck?!”

“I made a mistake,” he told you. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to any of those rumors. I know you love me, I know what we had was real, I know what you were feeling was real. I was such a damn idiot, please I’m so sorry.”

Angry tears were starting to form in your eyes. You turned fully to face him. “Oh yeah, you seemed really fucking sorry when you were out partying with all those girls, when you were flirting them up, when you went home with one of them! What’s wrong? Did your new plaything dump you?”

Everyone was staring at your both, but no one was making any moves to stop the fighting. They were all too wrapped up watching what was happening to even think about breaking it up.

“No!” Colson snapped. “I never went home with any of those girls, I never even flirted with any of them! I partied to try and get you off my mind, but it never worked. You have to believe me (Y/N), all this time I’ve been thinking about you. I wanted to call or something but, being the idiot I am, I thought you had been using me. I found out recently that it was Chantel that started those rumours. Apparently she told some tabloid that she had witnessed us together in private, that you were very cold and that you obviously didn’t want me. She was trying to break us up thinking I’d go back to her. When I didn’t, she told me everything.”

He took your hands in his. “Baby, I’m really so sorry. I know sorry isn’t enough, I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up so bad. But I can’t be without you. You’re the love of my life, you complete me, as fucking corny as that is. I need you in my life.”

Suddenly he was lowering to one knee. You covered your mouth in shock as he took a ring from his pocket and held it up to you. “You have every right to say no, but I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to be able to call you my wife, to start our own family together, to just be happy together in general. (Y/N), will you marry me?”

Before the question was completely out of his mouth, you exclaimed, “Yes! Oh my god, yes!”

You had forgotten that you in the middle of a busy hair salon until your coworkers and their clients cheered with excitement as Colson stood and took you in his arms, placing a loving kiss on your lips. Not that you cared all that much. For the first time in weeks, you felt whole again, and you were beyond happy to be able to spend the rest of your life with Colson.

[lustresky]

awmd ; prolouge ; your love will cling to me through the lonely daytime

auf wiederseh’n, my dear masterlist & lily’s lil’ stories

Satisfaction runs through your veins as you hear the loud thwap, your bullet cleanly and perfectly hitting the tiny dot marked on the paper dangling itself a few feet in front of you.

You lower your dominant arm, stance straightening out as a clank of a metal shell rings against the cement floor. The words of your father about safety echo in your mind and make you double check your firearm before doing anything else. A series of clicks and clacks follow your every movement, making sure that everything is safe.

Once you’ve fully inspected your weapon, you turn your body around to place the arm back to its rightful position; but before you can do so, your father halts you in your tracks.

Panic and fear bubbles up in your chest.

Oh no.

He wasn’t supposed to be back till 2!

He motions for you to take off your muffs, lips in a tight line and eyebrows straight.

As your hands follow his instructions, your eyes follow his gaze up to your marked piece of paper. You follow his every move as he trudges along to where the pulley sat. He wheels the piece of paper back to where you both were standing with his own hands, calloused and littered with nicks and scars.

You can’t help but lower your head down in shame.

I’m definitely going to get in trouble…

A pause as he examines your damage— a million thoughts wrapped in anxiety running through your head, the empty silence of the shooting range deafening against your eardrums.

Suddenly, he lets out a small chuckle.

You look up, and to your surprise, you see his once strict and pointed expression soften.

He whistles proudly, a smile on his lips. “My lil’ girl’s gone and became better than her dad, didn’t she?”

Your cheeks heat up from his praise, but despite it, you can’t help but ask, “You ain’t mad, pa?”

He laughs and pats you on your shoulder, the weight of his hand a reassuring pressure. “Sweetheart, I ain’t ever seen such a clean shot like this— not even from the men that I’ve been teachin’ for the last five years!”

You giggle at his words.

Your father sets a hand on his hip, a big smile on his face. He shakes his head.

“You’ve got a future ahead of ya, sweetheart.”

That was the first time that you’ve ever fired a pistol.

You were fourteen, raised by a strict yet caring father who served in the Great War and a nosy yet loving mother who was determined to have you betrothed as soon as you were eighteen.

Your father ran a shooting range, a place to continue practicing the talent he had honed during his service as a sharpshooter. Never once did he let you fire before that time; but you had mentally practiced and memorized all of the little techniques that he did as he fired every shot.

Whenever you had time, you would tune in to what he would say to his students, sitting all by yourself a few meters away, books and pencils strewn about on a small table under the guise of studying.

You definitely weren’t taking notes on grammar, most times.

Until you had showcased your natural talent at shooting, they were strict and disciplined and apprehensive of every single decision that you made for yourself. You knew it was only because of their concern, but as soon as they saw how much of a second nature it was for you to defend yourself, they mellowed out. Of course, your family wasn’t perfect— your parents had their disputes and disagreements like any other couple, though you knew deep down that they really only wanted the best for you. As an only child and as a woman, no less, their concern for your safety and well-being was and always has been the first priority in their mind.

Times were tough, and it didn’t seem like they were getting any easier, either.

What with all the stories you’ve heard about Germany attacking Poland in Europe, there’s been a constant blanket of unease in the community.

You truly couldn’t wrap your head around it. Aren’t people sick of fighting? Though the turmoil has provided your range with more people wanting to learn and subsequently more money, the whole thing didn’t exactly help you sleep at night.

Who knows how this whole thing will play out?

You shake your head, reminding yourself of your mother’s mantra.

Focus on the now; you can worry about the future later.

Cracking your neck, a small noise of satisfaction slips past your lips as the tension alleviates. The afternoon’s sun’s rays were slowly dissipating beyond the horizon, leaving the arena to bask in a soft, golden hue. The silence in the building seems like a stranger; the clangs and whoops and cheers nowhere to be heard as the last noises of a customer rang about around half an hour ago.

As Pa had instructed you before he left to take a break, you start cleaning the ammunition in your hands with a cloth. A hum falls past your lips, a melody that you had heard in the radio just a few weeks prior. Slowly and steadily you work, the metal between your fingers glinting back to life as the ash and smoke disappear into your rag.

Then, three knocks on the open wooden door.

You look up, expecting your Pa back.

Instead, your attention is caught by an unknown man: black hair coiffed and slicked back with gel, a casual suit and tie on his tall frame. He raises an eyebrow upon laying eyes on your form, back hunched over to clean and skirt covered with specks of soot.

It’s you who breaks the silence. “D’ya have an appointment, or?” You ask with a tilt of your head, eyes scanning for any sense of familiarity in him— which quickly turns futile as you’re quite certain that you’ve never before seen this man in your life, much less as a client in your range.

Brooklyn sure is a big city.

He clears his throat and his lips scrunch up in a half-smile, apprehensiveness clear in the way he holds himself. Whether it be because you intimidate him (Which, truth be told, you’ve heard said about you in a few hushed whispers before.) or because it’s most likely his first time to fire a bullet, you can’t make out.

“Yes, I— uh, I do,” His eyes scan about the place, which you can feel is a purposeful way of not keeping contact with yours. “I’m James Buchanan Barnes?”

At the mention of his name, you silently sigh to yourself, now realizing the real reason as to why your father had decided to conveniently choose this hour to take his ‘break’— he hates teaching rookies.

James Buchanan Barnes, huh?

Though your Pa’s patience in the house could rival that of a saint’s, outside of the family home it was a whole other story. He had never liked explaining techniques nor starting off from scratch, and his method of teaching resembles that of a professor more so than a kindergarten teacher.

Thankfully, though you had definitely inherited his talent, your pond of patience was a little bit bigger than his.

You stand up from your chair, making your way to the reception area. Shaking off the dust on your fingers and onto your apron, the distance between you two gradually became less and less as you reached the small table on which a log book sat. You set down the unloaded rod on the side and flip the book open, grabbing the pen lying on the side and drawing a check at the side of his name.

“Alright,” You clap your hands together, looking up from the book and onto his face, preparing to relay the basic information that rookies ought to know before even entering the range.

You pause in your tracks for a second as your gaze catches his, the afternoon light entrancingly illuminating the specks of cerulean in his eyes. His eyelashes flutter, and you force your head back down as you feel the heat rise up your cheeks.

Lord, help me. Of course he’s gotta be as cute as a bug’s ear!

You busy your eyes and hands with the pages filled with names you can hardly recount as you clear your throat, trying to reign your words back in your mouth. “So,” You start, inhaling a breath as you prepare yourself to look at him once again. “Basic rules, which are really just common sense.”

“One,” You look up, ignoring the funny feeling in your stomach as his eyebrows raise up in anticipation to hear your words. “You gotta protect ya ears and eyes. We don’t want ‘em uncovered, so get some of those—” You nod your head to the rack containing all of the ear and eyewear. “Before comin’ to the range, alright?”

He nods. “Yes ma’am.”

You let a small smile appear on your lips at the word falling from his lips.

“Two,” You point at the flags, the green ones hoisted high above each lane. “Remember what those colors mean in a range: green is no, red is yes.”

You see him open his mouth to retort, but you shut him back down with a, “Don’t question me on that one, I ain’t interested in doin’ history right now.”

He chuckles, and the rumble in his voice makes your chest flutter.

“Third, and don’t ya ever forget this one unless ya wanna lose your feet,” You hold up the unloaded rod you were cleaning before he came in. “Always make sure that ya gun ain’t got any more bullets in her before celebratin’, alright?”

He nods again, and in turn, you smile. You set the gat down once more, and motion with your head to one of the lanes.

“Let’s see whatcha’ got then, Barnes.”