#espresso is too gay to save his own ass

[miumiumandoodz]

grindr

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[matthewfairchildfanclub]

TSC except it's incorrect quotes and it's part 2 and it's really fucking long sorry.

Cordelia: I like your top.

James, wearing a very bright shirt: Thank-

Matthew: Thanks dude, I like you to.

_

Anna: Gender is a game and I have the cheat codes.

_

Clary, at Starbucks: Can I get a venti caramel macchiato with, uh... seven shots of espresso.

Simon, behind her: Jesus Christ, Clary, just do cocaine.

_

James: If you were to die, what would be your last words?

Matthew: Finally.

James: No-

_

Izzy, on the phone with Magnus: Is it okay if I bring my weird roommate?

Simon: Would you please stop calling me that.

_

Clary: You sure you're sober enough to drive?

Jace: Yeah, I didn't drink anything.

Clary: Okay, go get the car.

Alec: [running after Jace]

Clary: It's okay, he's sober!

Alec: HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!

_

Will: Jem, you have beautiful eyes.

Jem: You too.

Tessa: ...

Tessa: Did I miss something?

Will: I'm straight, I just like his eyes.

Tessa: You're gay for his eyes.

Will: Exactly!

Will: Wait, no

_

Lucie, walking out in a new outfit: How do I look?

Matthew: Holy shit, that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen.

Lucie: Excuse you?!

Matthew: No, not you, the thing sitting beside you.

Alastair: Fuck you.

_

Magnus: You sure know a lot about the law.

Julian: I do a lot of borderline illegal shit.

_

Cordelia: Lucie! Don't let go!

Lucie, dangling from the side of the cliff: WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LET GO?!

_

Kit: I think I forgot to sleep because I was looking at memes.

Dru: If you ever wonder why you have no friends, just remember that sentence.

_

Christopher: Oh, tiddlywinks.

Matthew: JUST SAY FUCK

_

Will: Swear words are banned in this house, if you say one you'll be grounded.

Matthew: Heck.

Will: You're on thin fucking ice, kid.

_

Jace: You may not know this, Alec, but I'm a flawed person.

Alec: I do know that.

_

Dru: [reading the exorcist]

Dru: [laughs]

_

Matthew: I know you can be "underwhelmed" and you can be "overwhelmed" but...

Matthew: Can you ever just be whelmed?

James: ...

Christopher: I think you can in Bulgaria!

_

James: I think I'm in love with Cordelia.

Grace: Congratulations! You're officially the last one to know.

_

Tessa: James, what are you doing here? Weren't you making spaghetti tacos with Mattew, Christopher, and Thomas?

James: Well, I was.

Tessa: ... was?

James: Well, I- it was just getting hot downstairs because of the fire.

Tessa: THE WHAT?!

(Downstairs the kitchen is completely on fire)

Christoper, looking around while Matthew and Thomas try to put the fire out with olive oil: Oh, this isn't good.

_

Jace: Please shut up.

Simon: Well, since you asked nicely, no.

_

Will: No pain, no gain!

Matthew: But I'm in constant pain and I've lost everything-

_

Matthew: If you'll excuse me, I must attend to my evening affairs.

James: You mean drinking wine and eating gummy bears until you pass out on a chaise?

Cordelia: Or reading Layla and Majnun and crying in the bath because they didn't deserve it?

Lucie: Or shouting your own poetry from your balcony?

Matthew: All three, in that order.

_

Will: What have I told you about comparing Tatiana to the devil?

Lucie: ... that it's offensive to the devil?

_

Jamie: These people are my friends!

Jamie: I've known them for twelve hours!

_

Clary: What are we gonna do?

Simon: Don't worry, you're so small they probably won't see you.

Clary: Simon, is this really the time to be making short jokes?

Simon: Clary, it's never not the time, because just like you, life is short.

_

Matthew, drunk: Always strive to eat the stars.

Lucie, half asleep: Aren't they too hot?

Matthew: Blow on them first, idiot.

_

Cashier: Would you like your check?

Ty: If someone is being murdered right now it would be my alibi, but if someone gets murdered in the store they could pin it on me.

Cashier: Sir?

Ty: I want to speak to a lawyer.

_

Magnus: If you had to choose between Jace and all the money I have in my pocket, which would you choose.

Alec: Depends. How much money are we talking about?

Jace: Alec????

Magnus: Eleven cents.

Alec: Sold.

Jace: ALEC?!!??!?!

_

Alastair: Cursing is for those who have a limited vocabulary.

Matthew: You are an audacious, ideologically unsound, captious, presumptuous, motherfucker.

_

Clary: Hey, uh, maybe we need Simon's help with this one?

Jace: I would literally rather die.

_

Cristina: Name a way to be nice to people.

Kieran: Don't stab them.

Cristina: ...

Cristina: Setting the bar a little low but I'll allow it.

_

Tessa: Where have you been?

Will: Emotional hell.

_

Kit: I made you all of you into Sims, look.

Jace: Where are you?

Kit: I'm in the grave in the backyard.

Jace:

Clary:

Jace: Put me there to.

Clary: Oh my god-

_

Emma: I have the sharpest memory, name one time I forgot something.

Zara: You forgot me in a Walmart parking lot, like, three weeks ago.

Emma: I did that on purpose, try again.

_

Matthew: Will, did you know "thot" means "thoughtful person."

Will: Really? I did not know this modern slang.

(later)

Will: Thank you for helping me with the stables, Tessa, you're such a thot.

Tessa, wheezing: I'm a WHAT?

_

Julian: [choking]

Kit: I'm trying to call 911 but the 9 button isn't working!

Dru: Just flip your phone upside down and use the 6.

Julian, stopping his choking for a second: What the fu-

_

Emma, getting in the front seat: Alright, is everyone ready to go?

The Blackthorns: Yep!

Emma: Okay, let's go.

(looks into the mirror to see Zara running after the van)

Emma: [whispers to herself] Goodbye you little shit.

_

Cordelia: What the hell is going on??

Matthew: Oh, great, you heard my cry for help.

Cordelia: You mean your girly scream?

Matthew: I MEAN MY CRY FOR HELP

_

James: The risk I took was calculated.

James: But holy shit am I bad at math.

_

Izzy and Magnus: [getting arrested at a protest]

Cop: Fake ID's, fake credit card. Got anything on you that's real?

Izzy: My tits.

Magnus: My ass.

_

[in a group chat]

Dru: Adding "lmao" does not hide your pain.

Kit: Yeah it does lmao.

_

Matthew: Excuse me, who made James the boss of the group.

Christopher: You did.

Thomas: You said, "James should be the boss".

Lucie: And then you said, "lets vote," and it was unanimous.

Cordelia: And then you made him a plaque that says, "Boss Of Us".

Anna: And put little sparkles all over it.

Matthew: ... All valid points.

_

Matthew: And once again, James and Matthew save the day.

Lucie: You didn't do anything.

Thomas: It was all James.

Matthew: We're a package deal. Everyone knows that.

_

Jem: I am not "too nice"!

Will: Jem, you apologized-

Jem: I have manners!

Will: -to the waiter who spilled soup on your lap.

_

Kit: You wanna see how hardcore I am?

Kit: [punches a wall]

Kit: Take me to the hospital.

_

Julian: People ask me how I handle the rest of my family so easily.

Julian: The truth is, I don't.

Julian: I have no control over them.

Julian: I walked into the house today and Mark shot me in the neck with a nerf gun.

_

(At a New Years Eve party)

Alec, to the TMI gang: I would like to make a toast!

Alec, raising his glass: I cannot believe we have gone through another twelve months of absolute fuckery.

Alec: Cheers!

[shy-marker-pliers]

High school AU thingamabob

Dark

17 year old senior

class president and is kinda high and mighty about it tbh

“yes i know student council can’t really make any changes without the input of the superintendent but IM THE PRESIDENT AND YOU’RE NOT SO SUCK MY DI-“

does sound/lights for all the shows the school puts on

dating wilford and no one knows how or why they’re together

had a deep as hell voice and a beard the second he hit puberty

takes every ethics/psychology class he can

wants to be a lawyer

that one kid that everyone fears but is actually kinda chill if not a little surly

wears a collared shirt and tie to school every day and would totally get made fun of for it if he wasn’t terrifying

listens to classical music unironically

“oh my god i’m so going to fail this test” *proceeds to get the highest grade in the class*

protector of the gays™️

person: *says something mean to a student because they’re lgbtq+*

Dark: *teleports in front of said student* omae wa mou shindeiru

Wilford

19 year old senior

Yes he still has the mustache

doesn’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks of him

deadass wore a dress to school after one of his friends got made fun of because she wore a suit to a school dance

b u f f a s h e l l

could bench press a teacher if he really tried

on the cheer team

“no i’m not wearing pants, this miniskirt makes my ass look great!”

everyone’s bodyguard

usually attracts a crowd of nervous underclassmen

has mild dyslexia

tol

gives his friends piggyback rides

president of the drama club

works hard enough in school to pass his classes but that’s pretty much it

sleeps in class

Bim

15 year old freshman

vice president of the drama club

wilfords shadow

first freshman to help run the drama club and shoves it in everyone’s face

shouts his gayness from the rooftops

secretly super insecure

loves plants and helps out in the schools greenhouse

named all of the plants but if you tell anyone he’ll stab you

gets mostly B’s and C’s

has mild ocd but not enough to affect him severely

talks like a game show host cause he thinks it makes him sound attractive

it doesn’t

Google(s)

16 year old juniors

identical quadruplets

they have to wear different colors every day or else no one knows which one is which

they’re called the googles because their backpacks match the colors of the chrome logo and they’re super smart

straight A 4.0 GPA students but Oliver has to try a little harder than his brothers

all of them are in the robotics team except for ollie

Blue works on programming and red and green are on the build team

Ollie is the sweetest day of sunshine to ever exist and everyone loves him

he’s basically adopted Eric as his lil bro

tutors people in the library every tuesday and thursday

the other googles disapprove of his relationship with bing but he makes ollie happy so they don’t do anything about it

they all work in a supermarket and they’re saving up for college

ollie wants to be a vet, red and green want to be engineers, and blue wants to be a web developer

Bing

17 year old junior

mostly A’s, a few B’s.

his full name is zachary bing but people call him bing because he’s always trying to one up the googles

dudebro

was pining after ollie for months before chase finally felt sorry for him and told ollie how he felt

they’re dating now and it’s adorable

so soft for his boyf

a really good skater and wins a lot of local competitions

doesn’t study but still gets p good grades

wears sunglasses all the time because he has light sensitivity

Has ADHD

s t r o n k

always challenges people to arm wrestle him

can sing really well and plays gitaur

shares a youtube channel with chase where they skate and to challenges and stuff

Dr. ipiler

18 year old senior

Everyone calls him doc because he helps the school nurse and takes every single biology and health class there is

all A’s

really wants to be a surgeon

best friends with Schneep

huge star trek/harry potter nerd (ravenclaw if you’re wondering)

almost always at schneep’s house studying or just chillin’

kind of a control freak

thinks he’s charismatic but he’s actually kinda annoying

but annoying in a funny way

has a pet ferret that he sneaks into school

feral

espresso and sugar flows through his veins

“i actually got a good sleep last night.” “oh really?” “yeah bro i got a whole half hour!”

super dark bags under his eyes

Host

17 year old junior

all A’s except for in gym class

he has eyes in this

his real name is Simon Charles Teller (there are specific meanings to those names btw look them up) but he’s called The Host because he does morning announcements every day.

has gold eyes and a lot of people find it unnerving

“hey i have a podcast you should totally listen to it”

nocturnal

spends all of his free time in the library

always reading in class but the teachers don’t really care bc his grades are good and he does his homework

wants to be an english/poetry teacher

crushing on the cute shy kid from his english class

doesn’t talk much but he’ll still be nice to you

that one kid who’s always correcting the teachers

Runs the D&D club (he’s the dungeon master)

Eric Derekson

16 year old junior

Mostly high B’s, a couple of A’s.

lives with his uncle mark after he ran away from his abusive dad and is living a happy life

the guy that always volunteers to take care of the class pets over the weekend

animals love him

has anxiety, mild paranoia and autism.

animals, harry potter, and pokémon are his hyperfixations.

he also really likes gardening

crushing big time on hostioli

spends his entire english class staring at him and blushing

is seriously considering joining D&D club just to be able to talk to him

he’s in the art club

wants to be a vet and maybe do some freelance art stuff on the side

Ollie keeps yelling at him to just ask host out already but he’s too nervous

my poor bb boi

Wears sweaters all the time

wears headphones to block out noise if it ever gets too loud at he goes into sensory overload

disaster bi

Yan

18 year old senior

gets C’s

non-binary

has a makeup tutorial channel on youtube and has a pretty decent following

That one weeb

dyes their hair a new color every week

also has a new crush every week

everyone knows who their newest victim is because they never stop watching them

draws anime or cute animals for every art class

wants to be a a fashion designer

does MMA

everyone kinda stears clear of them

writes their first initial along with their crush’s on every notebook they own

has gotten suspended for beating kids up on multiple occasions

doesn’t really have that many friends but they don’t mind

spends their lunches watching their crush

in the drama club and the art club

Randall Voorhees

18 year old senior

C’s and D’s

Eric’s cousin/bodyguard

they have a lot of the same classes and walk everywhere together

loves animals and has like 10 pet rats

he doesn’t really care about his grades because he knows that he wants to be a woodworker/construction guy

makes little houses out of scrap wood for his rats and Eric thinks it’s adorable

always sneaks his rats to school and lets them have play dates with dr. iplier’s ferret

“nO IM NOT RELATED TO JASON VOORHEES HES NOT EVEN REAL SO SHUT THE HELL UP-“

used to live in nyc in queens and still has a pretty strong accent

completely incomprehensible when he’s excited or angry bc of the accent

everyone is jealous of his hair

spends like 100 dollars on shampoo and conditioner and stuff but it’s worth it

acts like the straightest guy in existence but could not be more gay

his boots are always muddy

Yancy

16 year old sophomore

his name is Yancy Bird

g...get it? like jailbird? ahaha...ok i’ll stop

permanent resident of the detention room

but he gets to just chill out and read for an hour so he doesn’t really mind

mostly gets detention for beating up kids that bully others

fuck the system

always wears a leather jacket and blue jeans

“hey, the 50’s called and they want their-“ SMACK. “shut up.”

takes a lot of criminal justice and psychology classes ironically

in the botany club but if you tell anyone they’ll never find your body

everyone is surprised when they find out he’s friends with Eric and ollie

pan but in denial

“i’m not gay guys, that ain’t me, i’m just comfortable with my sexuality. so i can admit when i see a guy with a handsome face and pretty eyes-“

that song is great btw you should listen to it

anyway

always makes really dark jokes and everyone is like “are you ok?”

except for his friends they just laugh

“lmao wouldn’t it be funny if everyone like...died”

[silverarmedassassin]

Day Six: A Christmas Date

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (College AU) Word Count: 4269 - sorry this one kind of got away from me whoops Summary: Bucky is desperate to find a date for his fraternity's Christmas party. You happen to stumble into the conversation at the wrong time. Or is it? 

A/N: And we’re back! I’ve had a really rough past couple of days and couldn’t get any writing done, so I’m going to be playing catch up for the next few days. I hope to have days 7, 8 and 9 all out by tomorrow evening, but we’ll see. I have tomorrow off so I’ll have plenty of time to write and edit what I already have written! Enjoy! 

2019 Christmas Masterlist 

“Come on Stevie. Peggy has to have at least one cute single friend she can hook me up with!”

Steve looks over the top of the espresso machine he’s working with and glares at Bucky. His best friend is currently sulking over his coffee at the pick-up counter as he complains about this week’s girl issues. “Buck, I’m working.”

“But Dot’s gonna be there with her new boyfriend! If I show up alone, I’m gonna look like a total loser!”

“You’re going to look like a loser no matter what you do,” your voice chimes in as you walk up next to Bucky at the counter. You smile at Steve as he starts to prepare your usual order, and Bucky grumbles into his coffee. “What’s this one crying about now?”

“His fraternity is hosting a Christmas party and he doesn’t have a date. Word is Dottie’s gonna be there and Bucky’s freaking out.”

“Ahh,” you hum as you lean on your elbows and look towards Bucky. “What happened to the girl - was it Misty? - that’s been hanging around the past few weeks?

He glares at you as he straightens up. “It was Mandy. And we wanted...different things.”

“Oh, so she wanted something serious and you just wanted to get your dick wet?”

Bucky nearly chokes on his coffee, and you’re sure you’re going to have to call an ambulance on Steve for how hard he’s laughing. You can’t help but chuckle yourself as he leans over the counter to fist bump you between his wheezing.

“You know Buck,” Steve says as he attempts to steady himself, “you should take Y/N!”

“What!?” you and Bucky exclaim at the same time. Bucky in a panic and you shocked that Steve would even drag you into the situation.

“Yea! She knows you’re a terrible date, and she can put up with your shit. Plus, there’d be no,” Steve wiggles his eyebrows then, “expectations at the end of the night. And she’s the only one in the group that’s single.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “What about Carol? She’s not seeing anyone.”

“Everyone knows Carol is gay. It’d be too unbelievable.” Steve shrugs his shoulders like his suggestion is the obvious answer.

Bucky was quiet throughout the entire exchange while he fought his own internal battle. On one hand, he’d been considering asking you to be his date. Not out of desperation, but because he truly wanted to spend time with you, show you off not just to Dot, but to everyone.

But on the other hand, the sensible, realistic hand, he knew you’d laugh in his face if he’d ask you. Not that you were cruel, it was just that your friendship hadn’t always been as carefree and easy as it was now. Plus, he didn’t want to use you of all people to rub in Dot’s face.

The party was in less than eight hours, however, and he was getting a little bit desperate. Maybe Steve bringing up the date could really save him.

Fuck it, Bucky thinks to himself, I’m just gonna ask her.

“Yea! Come on, Y/N, be my date!” He puts on his best pouty face and bats his ridiculously long eyelashes at you. “Pleeeeease? Can’t you pretend you don’t hate me for just one night? I’ll buy you your coffee for an entire week straight. Please!”

“Okay! Okay, okay, you’re making a scene,” you shush Bucky as his pleas grow louder, drawing the attention of those sitting closest to the counter. “I’ll go with you, just stop!”

Bucky stops pouting and gives you an exasperated look. “Wait, really? You’ll really go with me?” He tries not to let the excitement seep through his tone.

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a good party. Plus, I’m never going to pass up free alcohol.”

Bucky bites his lip in an attempt to hold back a smile, but his excitement is too much to contain. “Yes!” he says as he punches the air. “You don’t know how much you’re saving my ass, really I-”

He’s cut off when his phone starts to vibrate. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looks back to you and Steve. “Listen, I gotta run,” he says as he starts backing up towards the front door. “I’ll pick you up at your place at 5:30, okay?”

Before you can respond, Bucky is planting a chaste kiss to the side of your head and running out of the coffee shop. You sigh as you lean back and watch him through the shop’s windows.

“You know, if you could just keep it in his pants for more than a day, maybe he could find someone to commit it.”

Steve slides your drink over the counter towards you as his best friend disappears down the street towards campus. “Yea,” he says, turning his gaze on the back of your head. “But I think the girl he’s really interested in is too far out of reach for him.”

You turn and grab your coffee and shrug. “I better get going too. You have a job to do and I have a dress to go buy! Thanks, Stevie!”

You wave as you make your way towards the front door, and Steve just shakes his head. “They’re such idiots,” he says under his breath before turning his attention back to his work.

When 5:20 p.m. rolls around, you’re standing in front of the mirror in your room, twirling side to side so that you can examine your dark purple, crushed velvet dress. The skirt, as your roommate Natasha described it, is a nice flirty length, falling midthigh. Although not too revealing, the dress still revealed enough skin on top to be a little hazardous. With the neckline scooping to just above the valley of your breasts, and the back going down just as far, you felt

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as you examine your backside again.

Natasha, who is sprawled out on your bed, sighs and looks up from her chemistry textbook for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. “I told you, it’s perfect. You’re going to have every guy at that party begging on their knees for your attention.”

You make eye contact through the mirror but quickly avert your gaze. “Yeah, but what will Buc-”

“What will Bucky what?” Natasha interrupts you as she sits up fully. “It’s just Bucky. Since when does his opinion on what you do or wear matter?”

You bite your lip. She’s right, it is just Bucky. But that was the problem. You’re not sure when just Bucky started causing your stomach to do somersaults and your heart feel like it was going to explode in your chest.

It’s not like you hadn’t known Bucky for almost three years. It’s not like you had fallen for his devilishly handsome looks the moment he stepped foot into your freshman English class. Or his ridiculous charm when you accidentally ran into him in the dorm hallway one morning when you were running late for class. 

And it’s not like you’ve spent the last four years burying those feelings under every ounce of willpower you had. No, it’s just Bucky and his opinion doesn’t matter at all. 

Except it does.

A knock on your front door draws you from your thoughts and does nothing to calm the cage of butterflies that had been released in your tummy the second you’d agreed to go to this party.

Natasha jumps off the bed and out into the living room. “Coming!” she sing-songs as she makes her way to the front door. “What a gentleman, coming to meet the parents before he takes ya on a date.”

“Nat” you grumble as you grab your bag and phone from your dresser. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and turn off the light. Here goes nothing.

As you emerge from the hall, Natasha has already ushered Bucky into the apartment. Your steps falter a little when you catch a glimpse of him. He’s wearing your favorite red Henley and dark jeans combo with his worn leather jacket thrown over the top.  

He catches your movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. A shy smile creeps across his face as he tunes whatever Natasha had been talking about with him out. She picks up on this, because she turns to look at you too.

“Oh goody!” she claps before pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Get together kids, I need to document this moment! It’s like you’re going to prom!”

“Nat,” you hiss as you make your way towards the door.

“Just one picture. We need to document the one and only time James Barnes has clean hair and looks like a right gentleman!”

One picture turns into five different staged photos, and before you know it Bucky is pulling at your arm to get you out the door. “I’m sorry Tasha, but we really have to go!”

“Be safe, kids! Use protection! I don’t any any grandbabies yet!!” Natasha calls after you, wheezing as she does so. You were going to kill her when you get home tonight.

You take a deep breath as Bucky pulls up in front of the massive fraternity house. The white colonial-style home, complete with columns and a beautiful front porch, was far too nice for a group of college-aged men to living, breaking and...doing god knows what.

“Nervous?” Bucky asks from the driver’s seat. He doesn’t dare rip his gaze from the line of cars in front of his.

“No,” you say far too quickly to be convincing. Why the hell were you so nervous?! “Are you?”

Bucky shrugs then and unbuckles his seatbelt. “First time seeing Dot since the breakup. It’s not my idea of a great party.” He turns to look at you then, a soft smile playing on his face. “But I’ve got a beautiful date to make me feel a little better.”

You roll your eyes and unbuckle your own belt. “Shut up,” you grumble as you shove the car door open. It’s like he knew exactly what to say to get under your skin and right to the butterflies.

Before you can even make it out of the car, Bucky is around to your side holding the door like the gentleman he isn’t. He sheepishly smiles when you give him a look and shrugs it off.

“Gotta make it look believable,” he says with a laugh.

As the two of you make your way to the front door, Bucky is stopped by a few of the guys. Fortunately, you know most of them since your group of friends spends a decent amount of time together, so no introductions are needed. A few of them do, however, side-eye you for a moment before patting Bucky on the back in a congratulatory manner. You try to brush it off as guys just being guys.

When you finally reach the far-too-grand front door, complete with an old-fashioned knocker, Bucky stops.

“Are you okay with me touching you?” he asks shyly.

“What?!”

“Not like...Y/N! I mean like, holding your hand, and dancing. You know, like boyfriend things.”

Please, you yell inside your head. Outwardly, you keep your calm.

“Get enough alcohol in me,” you say as you pat his scruffy cheek, “you can do whatever you’d like.”

If you’re going to make it believable, you might as well embrace the part, right?

Bucky practically chokes on his own tongue. “Right. Uh, shall we?” he says as he motions towards the door.

He guides you through the foyer and into the main room of the house where bodies were spilling out into the hall and into the smaller library and sitting rooms, hand firmly planted on your lower back. It seems like every other person you pass wants his attention, but he’s focused on getting the two of you into the heart of the party, probably to camouflage himself so Dot wouldn’t spot him.

“Hey. Bucky!” Christopher, who you know as the fraternity’s president, waves at Bucky from around a box of store-bought chicken. “I know you helped all day, but can you give me a hand with the rest of the food? It just got delivered.”

Bucky looks between you and Chris and sighs. “I’m really sorry,” he starts, shoulder dropping in defeat knowing he can’t possibly say no. He is one of the biggest and strongest of the brothers and was used to getting called upon to do the heavy lifting around the house.

“It’s fine,” you say waving him off. “I’m going to get a drink. Want your usual?”

He smiles at this and nods. “I’ll be back in five, promise!”

You watch him jog out the door Chris had just emerged from, and you turn to make your way to the kitchen. It was quieter, not as many bodies lingering around, so you decide you’ll camp out in there until Bucky comes back.

You’re just grabbing a beer for Bucky and wine cooler for yourself when a familiar voice calls your name.

“It is you!” Dot says when you turn around to see who was beckoning you. She hurries over and gives you a tight squeeze like it hadn’t been three months since she broke the heart of one of your best friends. Like she hadn’t destroyed the one person who’s happiness sometimes meant more to you than your own.

Taking one look at her, you suddenly feel very self-conscious. She’s an absolute vision in a deep evergreen dress that falls just above her knee. One thing you’d always loved about Dot was her effortless, vintage style. The dress screamed the 1940s and was something that would have made you look like you were in costume.

Her red hair was curled to perfection and framed her striking features perfectly. You were silly to think that Bucky would ever feel anything towards you when he had dated her for nearly four years. The encounter had you second-guessing why you’d even agreed to come to this party in the first place.

“How have you been? I miss seeing your smiling face every day!” Dot says cheerfully. In her typical energetic way, she doesn’t give you time to respond. “You look beautiful by the way! That color really suits you!”

“Not as beautiful as you,” a man you don’t recognize says as he walks up and wraps his arms around Dot’s middle.

“Oh hush,” she giggles as she leans into the kiss he plants on the side of her head. You shift your weight from side-to-side, uncomfortable with the exchange in front of you. It must catch Dot’s attention because she snaps out of the love bubble she had been in and looks back to you.

“Oh! I’m so rude! Y/N, this is Danny. Danny, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Danny says as he extends one hand away from Dot to shake yours. You give a tight smile and return the gesture.

“Y/N and I ran in the same group for a while at the beginning of college. But, you know, life got in the way. It’s so nice to see you, though! I don’t think I ever saw you at one of these parties back when...” she just shrugs and decides not to finish the thought.

“Things change, I guess,” you awkwardly laugh.

Before things can get any more awkward, Bucky comes in through the door calling your name. He doesn’t see Dot and Danny at first, and so bounds over to you in two quick strides before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I guess they do,” Dot says as she watches Bucky pull you closer into his side.

You want to preen at the obvious change in tone, an almost bitterness lacing her words now, but you know it’s just for show and she has nothing to actually be bitter about. This is the exact reason Bucky had even wanted you to come with him, and at least for his sake, it was working. Without thinking, you wrap an arm around his solid, broad middle.

“Dot!” Bucky exclaims in his smooth, confident tone you’d come to love. Bucky was nothing if not confident with the ladies, which is why he had a new one almost every week since the duo had broken up. He was also a great actor. You know for a fact that this confidence was just a front. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Surprise,” she says, pulling Danny’s arms a little tighter around her middle. Her gaze lingers on Bucky’s fingers as they start absentmindedly tracing shapes along your velvet-sleeved arm. “I didn’t know you two were...together.”

You can feel the rumble in his chest as he laughs. “Surprise!”

The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a dull knife. You look up at Danny who is glancing back and forth between Bucky and Dot, obviously not knowing what was going on. Unable to stand the awkward tension, you pat Bucky’s side gently to gain his attention.

“I’m, uh, gonna run to the restroom. Come find me when you’re done in here?”

Bucky glances at you and swallows hard. His eyes are pleading you to stay, but there’s nothing you can do to remedy the situation. Just like you’d told him on the way over, if he ever really wanted to let this go, he was going to have to talk to her sooner or later.

You take pity on him though and lean up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be gone for just a few,” you whisper before releasing your grip on him and making towards the hallway.

When you emerge from the bathroom three minutes later, you can hear yelling over the music. As you make your way back towards the kitchen, you come to find that it was Bucky and Dot who was the source of the commotion.

Everyone has cleared out of the kitchen now, including Danny, so you choose to stay away. Deciding you’d rather not hang awkwardly around waiting for Bucky, and not feeling like striking up a conversation with anyone you know, you head out to the front porch. Luckily the weather has been mild this year, so you won’t freeze while you wait for Bucky to come to find you.

Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and you start getting a little antsy. There’s no way he was still in there talking with Dottie.

Despite the faux-date, you had been hoping to spend some time with Bucky. You thought that since he’d asked, begged you to come with that he would at least keep you on his arm while he made his rounds. But it was starting to look like that was not going to happen.

You check the time again and sigh, deciding that you’ll just call Natasha or even Clint to come to pick you up. You didn’t feel like wandering around the party by yourself, and you didn’t want to ask Bucky to leave in the middle just to take you home.

You shoot a quick text to Bucky to let him know what was going on, told him you weren’t feeling well and Natasha was coming to pick you up. It wasn’t completely a lie, just not the whole truth either. You call Nat and luckily she’s in the middle of a study break and agrees to come to get you in fifteen.

You wait for a text from Bucky, hoping it would be him telling you not to go, but it never comes. So when Natasha pulls up, you decide to leave the party, and hopefully your feelings for Bucky behind.

You’re awoken at 3:30 a.m. by your phone buzzing. You pointedly ignore it and turn over and try to go back to sleep. As soon as the call ends, another comes in immediately. You huff and roll back over, angrily yanking the phone from its place on your nightstand. Bucky Boy the caller id reads.

Before your tired brain can process what’s going on, the call ends and another immediately starts back up. “Hello?” you rasp into the phone, throat dry with disuse.

“Y/N!” Bucky slurs into the phone, obviously drunk. It startles you for a moment before you remember that he doesn’t need to drive anywhere since he lives at the frat house. “You left me at the party.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, definitely not wanting to have this discussion with drunk Bucky, let alone sober Bucky. “I wasn’t feeling well so I came home.”

“But you looked so pretty and I didn’t even getta tell ya. I didn’t even getta dance with you!” You can hear him pouting through the phone and you can’t help but give a silent laugh.

“Buck, you’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“No!” he shouts defiantly like a child. “Ya gotta listen to me, Y/N. Dottie...Dot, she tried to tell me that I didn’t really like you, that she could see through our facade. At first I got real mad, because that’s not what wasna sposed to happen. She was supposed to see us together, because it’s us, and get real jealous.

“But ya know what, Y/N, she was always jealous of you. ‘Cause you’re smart and caring, and funny and nice, and,” he stops to hiccup then. “And you’re jus so beautiful, ya know? She should be jealous of you because she’s not you and you’re you, ya know? And I know you’re gonna try and tell me I’m jus saying this ‘cause I’m drunk, but I’m not!”

Your head starts to spin a little as he continues talking. Every other word is slurred worse than before, which helps remind you of the fact that, yes, he is just saying this because he’s drunk. He’s drunk and upset about Dot so he’s projecting. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Ya know, I still remember that first day in English. I stumbled in half asleep and late and the seat next to you was the first one I saw. I hated it because it was in the front - I mean come on Y/N, who sits in the front of the classroom! - and vowed to never sit there again, but I did. I did every day for the rest of the semester and I’m so glad I did.

“You know why Dot doesn’t like you? Because I think she figured it all out before me. She broke up with me because she knew she wasn’t ever gonna live up to you. And I hate myself for only being able to tell you this while I’m drunk, but please, in the morning, make me say it again, okay? Because I like you and I think the feeling is mutual, but I’ve always been too scared to say something.

“And then stupid Dot came along and she was safe. I couldn’t ruin a friendship if there wasn’t one to begin with, so I settled. But I don’t wanna settle anymore, okay? So make me tell ya all of this again in the morning ‘cause I need to. You need to know.”

Tears start to drop down onto your cheeks, leaving salty trails as they do so. You’re not sure what to say, so you sit there and let him ramble on. You’d dreamt about this moment countless times before, Bucky confessing his feelings to you, but you never thought it would happen like this. Not when you’re half-awake with terrible bedhead and with Bucky three sheets to the wind. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you’ll take it.

Bucky’s quiet a little too long then, and you can hear his breathing over the phone as slowed a little. “Bucky?” you ask quietly into the speaker, but you’re met with only his soft breaths. He must have fallen asleep. Good. A sniffle a little before letting out a deep breath. “Good night, Buck. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

In the morning. Hopefully, in the morning everything he had just confessed to you would still stand true. That you would be able to confess your own feelings and something good could finally come from it.

You hang up and shoot him a quick text before you can second guess it. Returning your phone to its charger on the nightstand, you roll over and feel the butterflies come back. In the morning.

You: Hey Buck. Drunk you had some interesting things to say tonight. He wanted me to make sober you retell me everything in the morning, so I’m holding you to it. How about breakfast? We can make it a date. A real one this time. 

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Art Student and the Angel Wings

genre: urban fantasy, angels/demons, wlw

Words: 4k

Summary: Marnie is an art student just trying to finish her final exhibit, the angel in the corner is a model trying to sit for a mural.

Marnie was always told by her mother: ‘if you see an angel-born, walk the other direction.’ She is suddenly not entirely sure what to do with that

Marnie feels her jaw clench as she stands up, her muscles send a twang of pain from her lower back and she’s pretty sure she’s going to need a cane by the time she’s 30 at this rate. She reaches for the ceiling and stretches, letting out a low grunt as her joints pop and she tries to recover her sense of time and space.

She wiggles her toes in the sand and takes a deep breath, it smells like paints, cleaning supplies, and sweat. Some of which might just be her own, she checks her watch and then glances back at the place she left her good heels.

She checks her watch again.

The fluorescent lights of the studio buzz overhead and her head spins slightly as she wobbles in a circle, she tries to remember if she ate breakfast that morning. Then she remembers it’s installation day, she never eats breakfast on installation day.

She averts her eyes as a tall woman in jet black stilettos and a pile of stark white hair piled high on top of her head starts clicking her way over. Marnie tries not to make eye contact with the stilettos either.

She focuses on evening out the sides of her sand castle again and keeping her head down.

“Marnie Ruoqi?”

“Shit,” she says it under her breath before turning around. She takes a deep breath and starts wiping her hands off, “yes?” Her professor arches one stark white eyebrow, “are you finished?” Marnie gives a creaking smile, “I’m just waiting for a few of the shells?” She poses it like a question she didn’t want to answer.

“How many?” Marnie shrinks a little farther down, “all of them?”

Her professor tuts, “is someone bringing them or are we opening this year with an exhibit unfinished. Again.” Marnie purses her lips, “my friend is bringing them, he’ll be here any second.” Professor Stevens just shakes her head, “go help your classmates until then. I don’t want you overworking this piece right now.” Marnie opens her mouth to say that the piece was meant to be interactive and overworked, but she shuts it again. “Yes professor.” Professor Stevens was already turning and clicking away as she muttered down at her clipboard. It was going to be a long installation day. Marnie looks up see one of the museum studies majors give her a sad look, she makes a face at them.

“Do you need help with those lights?” She calls over as she sees her friend balancing on a ladder by a large window, Marnie runs off in her direction. She doesn’t bother to put her good heels back on, the bags under everyone’s eyes tells her no one’s going to say anything.

There were lights to hang, paint to splatter, and random student’s pottery to help shatter (in the name of modern art of course). Marnie only pauses when she’s halfway to the corner.

She’s mid-step when she sees a bright white splash of color in the corner, white like pristine beaches or newly unwrapped printer paper, white like blazing stars in the sky and newly minted kitchen counters.

She watches the soft light movements of white against gray. She pauses.

Something was in the corner.

She turns her head slightly, trying to catch the whole thing without directly looking at it. Joey Kingsley was facing a giant wall and taking bold, uneven brushstrokes. It was the image of a partially-nude angel with her wings burning up.

In her very ill-kept opinion it was a tacky and ill-thought out piece to begin with, but Marnie hadn’t realized he’d gotten a live model.

Her eyebrows raise as she sees a girl with fluttering white wings propped up stiffly in the corner, she was looking at her phone. She had cascading sandy hair, sun-kissed skin, and wings twice the size of her body spread out against the wall.

Joey was trying to capture her huge, snowy-white wings at the moment with sweat gathering at his brow as he tried to fill in the light, etched feathers one at a time. The girl looked engrossed on facebook or something.

Marnie’s mouth was open, she hadn’t seen an angel-born since grade school and that one had been mostly clothed. Her mother had told her to swerve far far away from it.

She looks away and starts walking the other direction, “wait,” a voice calls after her, “wait,  Marnie, get the lights.” She was still walking.

“Marnie, I’m about to drop them, whoa, ack.” She squeezes her eyes shut before she forces herself to turn on her heels and make it to the corner, catching a string of lights in her hands as a bunch toppled from her friend's grip. “Dammit, Willa.” She says sordidly, “careful.”

She holds the string of Christmas lights up and feels something prickling under her skin off to her right.

Willa arches her eyebrows, “hey, I helped you that one day you needed sand blasted out of your nooks and crann-” “Yes,” she says shrilly, face heating up as she tries not to turn her head right, “yes. That’s right. And thank you.”

“Uh,” Willa looks her over.

“Happy to help,” her voice cracks on the word ‘help’ and Willa’s sharp eyes glance over to her, and then towards Marnie’s stiff stance and partially turned-away body. Willa looks at her again, and then she looks towards the corner. “Ah,” her mouth makes a perfect little ‘o.’ “I see.”

“Let’s get these lights hung up,” Marnie says, she already knew her face was flushing a shiny red color.

Willa cocks her head to the side and mouths something, ‘when’s the last time you went out?’

Marnie just shakes her head emphatically, ‘not interested,’ she mouths back.

Willa whips around quickly anyway.

“Hey Joey,” Willa says instead before looking back to Marnie as she mouths ‘no.’ “You need any help with your exhibit? We only have a few hours left.” Marnie glances over her shoulder just as the angel-born and Joey turn together in one fluid motion towards them, Marnie doesn’t so much as peep- at least on the outside. Joey raises his eyebrows, “what kind of help?”

The angel-born flaps her wings gently, “I could use a coffee.” Joey sniffs, “she could use a coffee.” He surveys the both of them, “and I could use a tea actually. Green tea, light ice.” Marnie’s mouth was open, “but, uh, I have shells coming in a second.” She tries to explain between her own knotted anger and dumbstruck fluttering in her gut. She hadn’t looked directly at her yet.

“How soon?” Willa asks with her eyebrows up.

Marnie gulps, “couple minutes?” Or so. Or soon. Or hopefully within the hour.

Willa pushes on her shoulder playfully, “it’s just right downstairs, help the good man out.” Joey wasn’t looking at them and Marnie has a twitch in her left eye. She clenches her teeth and turns, she could still run. She tells herself she can still run, and then she tells herself to get a grip.

She wasn’t a Speaker anymore than her grandma had been. That time was over, angel-born lived among them now, and this one was looking loosely at her with the expression of a mildly intrigued office secretary. Her eyes were pale, gleaming almost, and focused on all things like sharp laser pointers.

She moved one brazen finger, “come here.” Marnie’s eyes go huge and she feels a shiver through her system, “here, here?” She could almost see the angel-born make a face at her, “like, at least a foot closer. I’m saving my voice.” “Oh,” she inches forward, making sure not to appear like a bigot that just was too freaked to get close to her.

“What would you like?” She tries to form a smile out of muscle and bones, the girl only had on a thin piece of silk twisted around her and tastefully hanging off her shoulder. It barely covered her chest and almost none of her legs except for the things that turned movies into R-rated.

The woman sniffs loudly before cocking her head to the side, “frappe latte, no whip, extra shot of espresso.” Marnie licks her dry lips and nods slightly, “cool.”

She turns stiffly, facing the other direction as quickly as possible, Marnie didn’t believe in prophecies or tinglings in her spine or any type of star-alignments. But she did have a good memory and this all felt strangely familiar.

She takes a couple hobbling steps forward, “be right back.” “Wait.” Marnie freezes like her blood might explode in her veins, she did know this feeling. Concrete or lead strings felt like they were holding her in place.

She turns her head slightly, her smile wavering, “yes?” The woman tilts her head up, “I change my mind, with whip actually.” “Uuh,” she blinks a couple times, “okay.”

She’s fast-walking now, her entire body tingling from head to toe and something fitful stirring deep inside. She remembered words from the old church she went to before they moved: Speakers, Conduits between the heavens and the earth.

She shakes her head and starts running, manners and PCness be damned, she nearly skids out the room like her feet are on fire. She dashes down the exhibit stares and out into the brisk afternoon air with her heart racing.

She leans over with her hands on her knees outside and breathes heavily.

“Come on Marnie,” she wipes her brow, “get a hold of it,” she mutters to herself. It was just another partially nude girl, she had done figure drawing class and her gay ass had gotten through that one brush stroke at a time.

But her mother had never told her to avoid models in the streets.

She forces herself to get in line for an iced green tea and frappe latte, she reminds herself that she’s not a speaker and no one had been in her family for a very long time. She gets to the counter and mumbles some sort of coffee order just as her thoughts drizzle and morph together like storm clouds.

She spaces out for another five minutes, her mother’s voice filling her thoughts like a scent. Walk the other way sweetie.

She’s picking up both drinks when she sees a car against the side street, “Jinu!” She calls out as she sees a young man carrying two boxes full of shells out. “Hell yeah.” She starts running, his expression shifts as Marnie runs out of the cafe and he holds up both items, “Marnie, you crazy bastard, you need to actually lock your doors next time.” She grins and waves both drinks in the air, “how would I get my last minute items for an assignment then?” He shakes his head, “just show me the sand castle before I buy you another lock.” “I wouldn’t use it.” He heaves a giant sigh, “Ah, I know.” “Okay, but hurry, I also gotta get these drinks to people,” she blows a stray piece of hair out of her face, “don’t ask.”

Jinu looks her up and down, “did you get downgraded to ‘intern’ when I was gone?” She groans and turns to climb the stairs, “I’d settle for downgraded to ‘alive’ by the end of this.” “Understood,” he follows her up the two stories as they trade stories of how many paint brushes they’ve lost in the last month alone. “14,” he says with an empty look to his face.

“17.” He raises his eyebrows, “21 then.” She winks, “69.” “420,” they fistbump, or attempt to with things in their hands, and duck back into the art studio.

She hears people calling her name again when she enters and she hurries over to start molding her sand castle again, “wait,” Jinu runs after her, shells in hand, “where do you want these?” “Throw them on,” she says breathlessly, “anywhere, that’s the point.”

Jinu shakes his head at her and Marnie darts over to find the corner-dwellers and bad art decisions still crowded together, Willa is grinning at her nearby.

“I hate you,” she hisses as she passes.

“Love is like that, yeah,” she whispers back and Marnie just squints a look at her.

“We’ll have words after this,” she keeps walking, “starting with ‘terrible wingman’.” “Or best!” Willa yells after her just as she hears someone clear their voice.

“Is that my frappe?” Marnie straightens up and turns her head creakily toward the source of the voice, she feels the same electric tingle through her system. Something was going on. She very much couldn’t deny that at this point.

“Tea,” Joey snaps his fingers without looking over, “tea me. Please.” Tea bag him more like, amirite, amiright? She could hear Jinu’s voice in her head saying that with his hand waving in the air waiting for a high-five.

She blinks back the image. “Tea.” She hands it over to him and then forces her popping joints to swerve around, “frappe.” “Thanks darling,” the angel had a southern accent. A subtle one, but enough to make Marnie pause for a long second. Her electric pale eyes were focused on her for another moment, she carefully puts the straw in her mouth and starts to suck.

Marnie ducks her head down and is about to scramble off to the farthest reaches of nowhere when she hears the same thick throat-clear. Marnie pauses and the surrounding air makes her shiver.

“Could I ask for one more thing?” The girl says roughly, “real quick, I swear.”

Anything.

Marnie had a bad feeling about that voice in her head, her mouth becomes a little dot as she purses her lips and turns. “Sure.”

“Could you hold my wing up?” She points to her right wing, “I’ve been keeping it there for forever now, Joey says he’s almost done now but it’s cramping.” “Yes, almost done.” Joey interjects, but Marnie honestly can’t tell one brush stroke he’s making from another at this point. It’s just a lot of white paint. And burnt bits he was pasting over it. Marnie cringes and glances at Joey and then back to the girl, “it’ll only be for a second.” The angel-born takes another deep sip of her drink and Marnie has the sudden feeling she can’t say no.

She takes several mechanical steps forward and feels the air buzz, it’s like her socks are going to fly off at any second as her fingers tremble over the soft white feathers in front of her. She peers over, “are you sure?” She’s not sure what she’s asking.

“They aren’t made of glass, go ahead.” The angel-born glances back down at her phone and Marnie can only shift in place.

“Okay…” She gasps softly to herself as she feels the silken, light feathers under her fingertips, she goes to hold the frame up. “There,” the girl groans, “oh god yes, just a little higher.” They were surprisingly light as she feels the weight of the wing come down into her hands and she holds the tips up. She tries to ignore the room spinning and her own ears cotton-ing up.

She was going to have to call her grandmother about this later she finally concludes.

She feels a pair of eyes on her again, Marnie stands perfectly still as the angel-born scans her, her eyes go down, “you’re not wearing shoes.” Marnie arches her eyebrows, Joey ignores the pair of them as he makes more bold large brush strokes of the girl’s wings.

Marnie shakes her head and whispers, “hate heels. Only going to put them back on when the folks arrive.” The girl nods slightly, “what’s your name?”

“Marnie,” Marnie says dryly, “you?” Her insides ache a little bit, the warm feathers pulse in her hands.

“June-Mary Sue,” she says with her lips pushed out, “or JMS for short, Jams for long.” “Jams?” “Jams.” Marnie shifts in place again, she bites her bottom lip, “I’ve never, you know, never-” “I can tell,” Jams says with a quirk of a smile on her lips. “But I don’t hold it against you. Some people just weren’t raised to see us as approa-” “I’m not a bigot,” she says quickly, as quickly as she can. “I’m just having this feeling.” “Feeling?” Jams wrinkled her brow and leans toward her like Marnie had just started a lecture that was going to be on the final.

Marnie’s face heats up, “not, like, feeling feeling. Or bad feeling or like gay feeling.” She pauses and her brain scrambles for words, her eyes dart down. “Kinda gay feeling.”

Jams covers her mouth and laughs, “I’m flattered.” “Oh jeez,” she wrinkles her nose up, “please ignore that.” She turns, trying to figure out if she’s turning away from her or toward her, her eyes flash up, “unless you’re feeling the thing too?” Jams laughing face relaxes for a moment and she seems to scan her again, eyes hovering loosely over her forearm and face. “Should I?” “Oh,” Marnie hunches over and her gut twists, “No. It’s just. It must just be me.”

“I mean,” Jams tilts her head to the side, “it’s not every day I meet a Speaker, but I try not to have ‘kinda gay feelings’ right off the bat.” Marnie’s mouth falls open, her hands begin to fall to her side as she lets the wings go, everything inside her grinds to halt like a combustion engine with a wrench thrown into it. She blinks, “Gotta go.”

She turns around and thinks about nothing, nothing, nothing. “Wait,” Jams wraps the single piece of ribbon more tightly around herself, “wait, wait.” Marnie was still walking.

“Hey, I’m not done love,” Joey was protesting next.

“Oh you were done an hour ago.” Jams snaps with her slight southern accent tilt.

“Wait,” several voices were calling out that word.

She feels a hand on her shoulder, Marnie doesn’t turn around. She looks at the floor, “I have to check on my exhibit.” “I didn’t mean to give you any orders,” Jams was speaking quickly, her sparkling skin hovering right in front of her as her mouth moved. “I didn’t figure it out until you came back up the stairs. And then the uh, wing thing.” Marnie was threading a hand through her hair, “I’m not a Speaker.” Jams frowns slightly at that, “you’re barefoot.” Marnie’s face crumples up, “uh, that doesn’t make me a conduit between heaven and earth?” Marnie’s eyebrows rise, “what have they been telling you about Speakers?” “That they were told commandments by the angels back in the day and carried them to like, man,” Marnie replies on auto-pilot. Her interactive sand-castle installment needed more shells. “They were ‘loyal servants’.” Jams visibly cringes, “my mom always said I should be more careful.” She mutters to herself, “I really didn’t mean to give you any orders.” Marnie’s entire body releases, she jerks her face up, “don’t tell me to kill anyone or anything.”

“I wouldn’t-” “‘Cause that would really suck. Or like, go to war for you or break into someone’s house.” Jams covers her face, “ah fuck.” Marnie tilts her head to the side, “Can angels curse?” Jams makes a face at her, “Can humans fly?” “No?” “Yes, you invented airplanes,” Jams eyes focus on her, “and this of all days. They always said she’d come to me, barefoot and bearing gifts.” Marnie shook her head, “I should go.” She sinks into herself a little farther, “I, uh, don’t really have time to spread God’s word right now? I have finals to finish.” Jams was rubbing her face, “we should talk.” “We should… art,” she still doesn’t move. Something comes over her like the burning dawn. She turns to Jams with ice coursing through her veins, “you told me to wait.” “Ah fuck,” she says again, “part two.” Jams takes a step backward, “my child of saints,” she says quickly, “go and do as you please.” Marnie takes two forceful steps forward and then looks over her shoulder, “did you just call me a child of saints?” Jams waves, “go do your art.” Marnie suddenly has a deep feeling in her gut that she suddenly doesn’t understand anything.

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

Thousands of years ago angels, demons, and humans lived in separate spheres, the heaven, hells, and earths of the world. Separated by their hatred and differences and very old Words uttered long ago.

A war spanned between them for eons, fighting for land, for glory, and mostly for the hearts, minds, and souls of the last neutral party.

Humans were fought over, bribed and threatened, bullied and showered with gifts for the favor of kings and leaders of man. But even eternal wars can have ends, even bridges can be built if people are willing to try.

Even demons and angels get tired.

God had gone quite a long time ago and the gifts would only last so long in his mythic children of wings and horns. The humans had built walls after walls to keep the angels and demons out, weary of being used as pawns and prizes by unknown forces.

The demons came first, putting down their weapons, hanging their heads, saying maybe they wouldn’t be better, but they would be different. Afterall, God had gone quite a long time ago. The angels were next, one by one, marching toward a new city, a new end, anything but the endless war.

Humans were last.

They remembered centuries of fires and pillage, and shiny gifts where horrors jumped out in the end. That’s what they called ‘Speakers’ eventually, those who were gifted with a burden like no other.

They could relay the messages of the distant angels, of things to come and things that were, and commandments to still the raging waters and quell furious fires. They could speak the words of sanctity and be the vessel of light on earth.

That was of course, in exchange for loyalty without question, following without choice. They were vessels and bridges between the two worlds, but only one world could rule.

Marnie swallows her own tongue as she walks, but Speakers were supposed to be decommissioned ages ago, relics of a bygone era that had been ‘taken care of.’

She starts putzing around in the sand again as she feels a pair of eyes bore into her back.

“Shell here,” Marnie kicks one of her towers down and places a shell on top, “shell here.” She pushes a bridge over and places another shell. Destroying the piece was half of the point.

“What is this?” She finally hears Jams asking from behind her, “and that isn’t an order.” Marnie clenches her jaw shut and doesn’t remember how to move again, “I’m kind of processing something right now.” “Yeah, I’m little surprised myself,” She looks over to see Jams scratching her nose, “but I am actually curious,” she gestures around at the large exhibit with sand in the middle.” Marnie takes a deep breath, “it’s an interactive sand-castle exhibit,” she finally explains as she pushes her hair back. “What’s it do?” Jams cocks her head to the side and Marnie tries not to look at her directly in the face. “Nothing,” she takes a moment before a smile tugs at her lips. “Everything.” She picks up a shovel, “people are supposed to come in here and build their own castles.” She nods, “recapture how they felt as a kid or just have fun or whatever.” “And then?” “And then do it all again,” Marnie looks up at the ceiling and the buzzing of the fluorescents just ahead, “that’s the point.” She blinks, “life is like art, yeah? Life should be a little fun, even if it’s all destroyed by someone or something else later on and it’s all temporary.” Marnie drops her dissertation down on the angel-born’s lap and Jams whole face lights up, “that’s actually,” her face was almost dazzling. “That’s really lovely.” Marnie takes a step back, “I’m not getting an art degree just to cry over it.” She wags a finger in the air, “I’m getting it to cry over and also wake up with sand in my bed every night.” Jams let out another rough laugh, like bubbled it up from some volcanic lake in her core and came spilling out, raw and bubbling. “Oh my God.” They both smile and Jams nods, “Imma go get dressed.” She gestures down, “and then we should talk.” Marnie hums deeply, “is that an order?” Jams face hardens slightly, “never.” She takes a deep breath, “not that I’m not new to this either.” Marnie waves, “we can talk.” She nods, “if you can get ahold of me after I’m covered in art-ho babes after this.” Jams’s eyebrows raise, “I’ll accept that challenge.” Marnie snorts, “they can smell the student-debt on me and come flocking.” Jams laughs again, “stop it or else I really will start shooting light out of my eyes.” Marnie’s eyes go wide, “like Zeus?” Jams rolls her eyes, “just like Zeus, yes.” “Students!” Marnie jumps as Professor Stevens claps her hands, “gather round my flock.” Jams waves and mouths the words ‘that’s my cue.’

Marnie scrambles to gather herself, get an A in his exhibit class and try to reconcile with the fact she just found out she’s a relic from a holy war from over a thousand years ago.

A/N: hey! I don’t normally do this but I had a lot of conflicting instincts for this story

On one hand, it can be a two-shot, a simple clean story with one more part. Or! Halfway through writing this the story sort of showed itself to me as potentially a long-form piece that is however-long

Unfortunately, I haven’t had much luck with my long-form stories and I find people are less interested in them than my short stories (less notes, less comments, ect)

SO I have a little survey: POLL

it just asks whether you would like to see a serial series of something like this that was released around every week.

[gravetells]

Wedlocked (PresLocke #3) by Ella Frank and Brooke Blaine #BookReview #excerpt

*** This review is SPOILER-FREE! Read on with confidence! ***

This book, the final story in the contemporary gay romance PresLocke series, is a celebration of love and friends and happiness. After all they’ve been through in the series (and in their lives before that), Wedlocked is their (and their readers’) reward for sticking out the tough times and living on their own terms. The book isn’t very long—or maybe it’s just so darn happy that it passes in a flash—but some memorable characters from the authors’ other series make an appearance, and, of course, the big event finally happens…

“That is The Floridian. It’s near Disney, but as you can see, Ace, not a single princess in sight.” “Bite me.” “Is that an offer? Because usually you’re so uptight.” “I can assure you he is pretty tight. Not something I will ever complain about,” I said, which earned me yet another growl. “Don’t encourage her,” Ace said, then turned his attention back to the image on her phone. “That does look beautiful.”

There’s a sequence of scenes right in the middle of the book that gave me some serious warm fuzzies and made me want to run out and snatch up ALL the other books by these authors, just to meet the awesome crew of characters. Bet you’ve never seen a double bachelor party quite like this one!

Dylan sat back on his heels and grinned up at me like a fiend. He had a spot of mascarpone on his nose, and it made me groan to see him looking so fucking adorable after he’d just wreaked havoc on my body. The deviant was enjoying himself way too much torturing me. “You’re killing me, you know that, right?” Dylan sucked on his lips as he got to his feet and unzipped his shorts. “Well, don’t die. I have plans for you.” I swallowed as his shorts hit the floor and he kicked them aside, then I managed to ask, “What kind of plans?”

And these guys are as sexy as ever. The other books in the series features some seriously hot scenes, and the authors didn’t hold back in Wedlocked either. I wanted to make heart hands at this book in practically every chapter, whether for the steamy action or the melt-your-heart romance of it all.

I hugged him back, this man that had accepted me from the first moment he’d met me, no questions asked. He and Sunshine had hearts of gold and had raised the best man I’d ever known. And now here I was, the lucky bastard who’d get to spend the rest of my life with Dylan Prescott. And even more than that, I’d gained this incredible family in the process.

This book is pure, happy endorphins, a feel-good rush from start to finish. I actually cried at the end—for-real, happy tears. If you need a pick-me-up or just want to feel your heart fill up love, you must read this series! Don’t start with Wedlocked, though. If you’re new to Ace and Dylan, check out Aced instead!

This book is pure, happy endorphins, a feel-good rush from start to finish @EllaFrank2012… Click To Tweet

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Find Wedlocked online at Amazon US* (Free on KindleUnlimited!) | Amazon UK | GoodReads

New to #PresLocke? Start with the smokin’ hot ACED! (Click below to start reading for free on KU)

Want more PresLocke? Here’s a sexy excerpt!

“SO YOU’RE GONNA want to keep your toes on the tail of the board and grip the rails under your chest like this,” Dylan said as he lay across the surfboard to show me the basics of his favorite pastime on the secluded stretch of beach. Not that I was paying much attention to the words coming out of his mouth. I was much more interested in the way his muscles flexed beneath the skintight Body Glove wetsuit he wore. As he pushed himself up into a standing position, my gaze traveled down the broad expanse of his back and down to his ass. “See how my dominant leg is in the back, and— Ace? Are you paying attention?” “Mhmm,” I murmured as I bit down on my lower lip and continued my perusal. Dylan turned to face me, and his hands went to his hips. “Oh yeah?” he said when I looked up. “What did I just say?” Taking a step forward, I gave him a cocky grin and tugged him off the surfboard and onto the sand until he was flush against me. Then I let my hands roam down over the firm, round muscles of his ass. “Something about being a dominant in the back,” I said, nipping at his lobe. “So why don’t you turn around?” A groan of frustration left Dylan then, but his head tilted to the side to let my lips trail down his neck. “You’re not gonna feel so cocky when you can’t get up on that board.” “Oh, I can always get it up, don’t you worry.” His hands covered my chest and he gently pushed me away. “How about you prove it, hotshot?” Then he pointed to the longboard I’d rented for the weekend. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done.” “It’s more fun watching you.” “Ace. Get your ass on that board.” I squinted in the sun and grinned. “You gonna be this bossy all weekend?” “If you’re lucky.” I took a step back so I was by my board, and crossed my arms. I had my wetsuit on, but it was still undone and hanging around my hips while Dylan walked me through this process step by step, and my move had the desired effect. He rubbed a hand up the back of his neck and over his hair, leaving it tousled and oh so sexy. “What?” I asked. “I’m back on my side of the board.” “Don’t try and act innocent with me, Locke. I’m trying to teach you a new skill. One that will keep you from hurting yourself. And you’re standing there being all…” He waved his hand up and down, gesturing to my exposed upper body. “Yes?” “See. Stop it,” he said, and then pointed to the board. “And zip up that damn wetsuit so I can’t see all your muscles.” I arched a brow as I moved to slip my arms through the stretchy synthetic material, and when I reached for the zipper and pulled it up to the base of my skull, Dylan groaned. “Okay, that’s almost worse than no wetsuit.” “I’m sorry. You’re not checking me out, are you? Because you’re supposed to be paying close attention to teaching me something that could save my life,” I said as I turned around and made a show of bending down to get on the board. “You having fun right now?” Dylan asked. “Maybe a little.” “Yeah, well, let’s hope that holds true when the wave dumps you on your ass.” I let out a sigh and gripped the board just as he’d told me, because the truth of the matter was, I had never surfed a day in my life. I grew up in Chicago, for God’s sake. But Dylan, with his sun-kissed hair, long, lean body, and eyes the color of the sea, looked right at home with the sun shining down on him as his feet sank into the sand by my head. “Let’s try this a couple more times here on land, and then we’ll get you out in the water. We won’t have you trying to stand up just yet. But if you can get the hang of at least catching the wave into the shore, we might be able to progress.” He crouched down and said, “Remember, toes on the tail of the board and grip the rails, and then push up.” As I did as he instructed, I paused in the push-up position and was rewarded when he leaned in and took my lips in a sweet kiss. “Again,” he whispered, and I moved back down to repeat the move, and this time when I paused, I was rewarded with a deeper kiss. When he pulled away too soon, I grumbled and he laughed, straightening. “Any more of that and we won’t make it into the water. On your feet, Locke, it’s time to hit the waves.”

    About the authors

Ella Frank is the USA Today Bestselling author of the Temptation series, including Try, Take, and Trust. Her Exquisite series has been praised as “scorching hot!” and “enticingly sexy!”

A life-long fan of the romance genre, Ella writes contemporary and erotic fiction and lives with her husband in Portland, OR. You can reach her on the web at ellafrank.com and on Facebook at http://ift.tt/2nco03f

Some of her favorite authors include Tiffany Reisz, Kresley Cole, Riley Hart, J.R. Ward, Erika Wilde, Gena Showalter, and Carly Philips.

Connect with Ella online at her Newsletter | Bookbub | Website | Twitter | FB | FB Street Team | Instagram

You could say Brooke Blaine was a book-a-holic from the time she knew how to read; she used to tell her mother that curling up with one at 4 a.m. before elementary school was her ‘quiet time.’ Not much has changed except for the espresso I.V. pump she now carries around and the size of her onesie pajamas.

She is the author of Flash Point, a romantic suspense standalone, as well as the co-author of the erotic series, A Desperate Man, with Ella Frank. The latter has scarred her conservative southern family for life, bless their hearts. Licked, a romantic comedy, will be released November 11, 2015 and is the first in the L.A. Liaisons series.

If you’d like to get in touch with her, she’s easy to find – just keep an ear out for the Rick Astley ringtone that’s dominated her cell phone for ten years.

Connect with Brooke online at her Newsletter | Website | Twitter | FB | FB Street Team

from Wedlocked (PresLocke #3) by Ella Frank and Brooke Blaine #BookReview #excerpt