#even though those bullets were fake they were fucking HUGE and i wanted to see what they could do to a human body

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — CARMY BERZATTO.

A/N: so carmy won this time around!!! Thanks to all those that voted and ultimately made this decision for me lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and have a safe, healthy, and happy love season 🩷 + yes this is a mixture of fluff and angst...i mean come on! I wouldn't be me if i didn't include that in here somewhere!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 1. “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.” “What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?”  + always giving the other the first bite of their food < or the last.

WARNINGS/SN: I wrote with a black or brown reader in mind although reader isn't physically described + they’re given a name only when mentioned, language is a thing here duh!, this is LENGTHY, lots of timelines: reader + nat became friendly before season 1 during the summer prior to 7 fishes which is estimated to be five years before season 2, reader knows of carmy due to past work, I feel like she can be just a few year(s) older than carmy but younger than nat—there’s a age gap for the Berzatto’s anyways, sexual relations are mentioned, this piece takes place months after the grand opening, & finally there’s a possible chance for a poly relationship or maybe just multiple crushes going on? Take that how you will.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

it was a Sunday.

The kind of Sunday you woke up embarrassed about but knew you had to swallow your pride and just send out that text. You knew you wouldn’t be judged regardless reaching out to Fak because he’s built to deal with things like this and never made you feel like shit about anything.

You usually had to squeeze it out of him to get him to lay out any cons about a situation but appreciated most times when he didn’t. Your minds been going haywire with a recent assignment as a food journalist and it really slipped your mind, although you were usually a quick thinker, you’ve been stressed over this recent restaurant. Thankfully it clicked for you after throwing a tantrum to simply reach out to Fak to come help you out.

The stupid lever in your bathroom decided to stop flushing on you and of course you panicked. Who wouldn’t panic in a situation like that? You no longer had a roommate and strongly debated if you even wanted to search for another; after the shady actions of the previous one, so you really didn’t have to worry about them giving you shit either. (Let’s see if your rent feels the same next month!)

It was just you in the end and perhaps you were learning to be okay with that.

Yet that didn’t stop you from FaceTiming Sydney about it. “Hey Siddy, how’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, yours?” She politely asked as she moved down the hallway of her shared apartment to prop her phone on the pedestal sink, moving around her functioning bathroom to grab some oil to grease her scalp.

Smacking your lips you glare, “it fucking sucks.”

“Oh?” Sydney questioned, appearing back in frame, “what happened? Did someone egg and scratch up your car again after a review you gave them? Noo wait, don’t tell me there’s a bullet hole?!”

That was light work compared to New York (it really wasn’t a competition of which state had its worst moments but your home state left you kinda triggered, not gonna lie!) where you were just starting off and those that were in tune with the culinary world didn’t take your words with a grain of salt. Most nights you still woke up gasping for air, reaching for your throat due to some trauma of a break in from a well-known nepo-baby chef. Don’t get that twisted, your mom didn’t raise no punk but that didn’t mean those events didn’t mess with your mental and you acknowledged that every time you had a nightmare. They only served three years and five months compared to the original five year sentence.

Ah the system…got to love how that works out for the privileged!

You shrugged, “no…the threats have been pretty tame lately so I can give myself a pat on the back for that. However! I still am in a crisis.”

Sydney begins to move her braids around to expose her scalp, “Elaborate for me.”

“My toilet won’t flush!” You whine, laying flat on your messy bed. You tended to not make your bed on Saturdays and didn’t get around to making it today—although it was after 3pm.

Sydney asks, “Like the waste won’t go down…?”

“Exactly!” You confirm throwing your arm over your eyes dramatically, “The lever thing is moving like my old dislocated shoulder.”

Sydney gags, “don’t fucking remind me of that day. That was spooky to witness but I am glad you healed from that.”

“Thanks girl, means a lot, truly.”

Sydney gives a small smile, “don’t mention it…have you considered YouTubing it? That’s what I do when I don’t want to ask anyone for help and figure it out by myself.”

You hummed knowing this was true. In a sense you could be like that too, especially when it came to the working field, since writers can tend to be some nasty bitches and always in rivalry with each other. You made a name for yourself in Chicago as well, coming from New York where you worked just as hard-maybe even harder than the rest to mean and write exactly how you felt about cuisine, regardless if anyone agreed or not. It wasn’t about if people liked you, the relationship with food would always be more significant and hold value in your life, just like the rest of these chef’s you encountered and you got that, people were allowed to be sensitive about their work. You’ve come toe to toe with many chef’s around the world who didn’t like your take on their craft but that didn’t mean you didn’t understand them. They hardly took the time to really dive into your ratings and automatically took it as you shit talking or not having any idea what you were saying since you “weren’t really a chef,” but you knew your worth most days.

Yes you could be straight forward but that didn’t mean you lacked compassion like some chef’s liked to think according to your reviews. You often wrote in a way that was puzzling to some, almost philosophical or riddle like with your own twist. Some just didn’t get it and that was okay but you wouldn’t back down from any confrontation. The second they didn’t want to really listen, that’s when you removed yourself from the escalating problem. It didn’t have to get violent like some wanted to inflict.

“Why didn’t I think of that?!” You exasperated, slapping the palm of your hand to your forehead.

Sydney snorted, “maybe because you’re under a lot of pressure lately and the most simplest of things don’t come as easily as they should.”

“You would think I have high blood pressure with the way these past two weeks have been.”

Sydney says, “give it time.”

“Gee, thanks! That’s exactly the kind of shit I want to hear from you.” You roll your eyes at the blurt of words that commonly escaped the braided girl’s mouth.

Sydney breathes out a laugh, “I’m just joking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Maybe I should text fak back and tell him not to come by!”

“You asked fak instead of the apartment manager?” Sydney is in amazement.

“Fuck that noise, he’s so full of shit that he should see a doctor about it. He’ll show up to analyze the problem, then acts like he’s going to fit you into the schedule and then when you catch him in the lobby he pretends that he has amnesia.” You commented with a scowl.

You get ready to minimize the call to text fak but some obnoxious knocks at the door made you pop up from your bed. “That was fast!”

Hopping up from the bed and padding out of the last bedroom in the apartment, you made the journey through the foyer to the awaiting black front door. Peeking through the peephole you spot Fak grinning widely up into it, almost making you jump back.

“He’s made it Siddy! I’ll call you back!”

“K. Good luck!” Sydney calls out before you end the call to pull the door wide open.

“Neil!” You scream, quickly latching onto his tatted wrist ready to yank him in until you notice someone else is with him, “…why is he here?” You point.

Fak quickly glances over at a brimmed Carmy who raised a brow at him in a silent told you so manner, “I mean we were having a boy’s day when you called and I didn’t want my buddy to be left out. Plus, it’s always great to have some assistance.”

“…i find it hard to believe that Carmen wants to fix my toilet.” You cross your arms, poking out your hip as you stare at him.

Carmen shrugs his shoulders, “I wanted to wait in the car if it makes you feel any better.”

“Hmm…it doesn’t.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pinching at the bridge of his nose briefly in agitation, “you know what, fak you’ve got this right? I know you do so—

“Nope!” Fak quickly interrupts, “this maybe a two person job so aspie if you just let us do what we came to do—

Shooting an arm out to block the doorway you peer into Fak’s dark teal eyes to show you mean business, “didn’t I say I dislike that nickname, Neil?”

He nods.

“Also i find it offensive that you brought an uninvited guest to my place.”

“Just be glad it wasn’t Richie because that was also a possibility before he ran off to pick up the kid.” Carmy snaps making you roll your eyes.

If Richie was here you been would have slammed the door in both Fak and his face. Sure you had some sort of tension with Carmy and beef with .......his cousin but at least Carmy only gave it back to you when he had the energy to—meaning if he was already on one. The issue was simple, you wrote a not so nice review once before when the eldest berzatto, Michael was alive and running the joint. Richie couldn’t forget that and actually kept the clipping, yes the clipping of the review way back when. He had the receipts to show Carmy and Carmy actually brushed it off then, not seeming to really care or doubt some of the words that were said.

He came to revamp the place because Mikey left it for him, to fix the mess his big brother left behind, to create what they’ve always dreamed of. Sure he got shit for it in the beginning and part of him felt like maybe that was your case too? He could relate to you on that, yet the weight was slightly different on his part and he even spoke with you not long after he found those tomato cans.

That gave him a certain push he couldn’t really explain. He may have done a brief dive on you, wondering why you felt acquainted to him—completely forgetting about seeing you once around Noma—choosing to start with reading previous reviews by you on other restaurants here in Chicago and a few interviews you’ve done over the world. You weren’t just some nobody, you held your titles well and it reflected in your work.

You weren’t clueless.

He just didn’t really know what he was dealing with until a short time ago.

What he didn’t expect was for you to show up again on opening night with a certain head chef, also from New York. That made carmy more anxious than anything, seeing you sitting beside that four eyed fuck ready to set off a tornado in the heart of the bear. Was that your motive all along? With carmy attempting to build a bridge, not for you to kiss his ass with praise but there was a odd need to have a simple conversation with you. It was weird but it seemed like Sydney, Fak, and Nat liked you?

The jury was still out with the rest—except Richie but you were a mystery to Carmy. However carmy wasn’t the best at putting a read on people or their emotions in the first place, he was good at fucking that up unless you’re screaming it into his face. That’s just how he operated.

“You two can come in—only because I don’t have the patience with the manager here and Neil’s the best I’m gonna get.” You state while fak slaps a hand on his chest.

“That was really sweet, Aspen.” Fak cooed ready to pull you into a bone crushing hug but you hold up a finger.

“Save the hugs until after you fix my problem.”

“You got it boss,” Fak salutes before diving under your arm to travel through your apartment, ooo-ing and ah-ing before finding the bathroom around the corner from the living room.

Sighing you drop your arm and wave carmy through, who keeps his view straight while traveling through the hallway. You call out to him, “you can have a seat on the couch.”

“What? Did you drop a load or something and is that the real reason why you don’t want me to help Fak?” Carmy comes right out with it, nose twitching in amusement after whipping around to face you in the center of the living room.

See…only when he’s frustrated or overly focused will he just let it out. Some may look at this as Carmy attempting to make a joke but you took that somewhat personally. The only thing you were thinking after he said this was: What an ego on this one huh?

You stop on your heels and tilt your head to the side, “are you telling me that you think women or fem pronoun users don’t take shits? Do you know what it feels like to have period shits?”

Carmy blinks at you and shouts with his hands out, “I...don't even know what the fuck you're getting at? I wasn't even trying to be sexist to you just then! I asked you a honest question—

“About you being in my business,” you pointed out, “contrary to your beliefs I have a heart and decided to be nice to you and let you stay in my place to keep warm. You’re welcome!”

“Oh bullshit, don’t act like you’re doin’ me any favors.” Carmy scowls, “you don’t even want me here.”

You shrug, “yet you’re here in my apartment, yelling.”

Carmy exhaled while you smirked at him sweetly before turning to lean against the wall that leads to the bathroom.

“Everything okay in there, Neil?”

“Oh yeah!” He says, “I think I figured out the problem. Easy peasy!”

“Great!” You exclaim, pulling your phone out from your sweats to read a very important email.

The weight of stress seemed to lift a good chunk as you quickly responded to a email that you’ve been waiting for. You’ve been invited out (squeezed in) to a taste test at this restaurant for this evening that you’ve been trying to get into for a month before you brought it up to your employer. The deadline was approaching for the end of this week to have a review ready and they just responded to you five days before that deadline! Reading over it twice, the squeal in you slipped through your smile until you read the exceptions.

If you were to go over the amount of food purchased, which you would put on the company card anyways, you can get a discount if you brought a plus one and some reimbursement if the review was satisfactory to the owners—which the last part wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

You usually didn’t bring a plus one to any of the places you did reviews for, you got comfortable doing outings all on your own but this was different. Sure you were somewhat known in the culinary world but that didn’t mean you were a millionaire and this restaurant was apparently upscale. There was a waiting list regardless of your status—even for the celebrities that went there so this was a big deal and they gave you a short notice. Usually Sundays were known for a reset for the week but what better way to start it?

You don’t go forward with reaching out to anybody else that you work with. This was your battle and you were aware that two of your other co-workers also reached out to this restaurant. You just hoped you were the only one they picked and wouldn’t miss out on the great opportunity just because you weren’t sure about your guest.

A few hours before show time and you had to find somebody to attend with you. Your best friend was away in Cabo for a honeymoon, the other (who recently planned on moving to ATL) was dealing with the flu and had their no good ex boyfriend taking care of them, Sydney was suddenly MIA, and you even considered inviting Natalie Berzatto to piss carmy off just a bit.

“Hey, Nat!” You greet into the phone as you walk into the kitchen, witnessing Carmy perk up from the couch.

It’s small talk at first: you asking about how her day is going as a mom to be, if she’s going to be at the bear tomorrow, did she watch the Emmy’s the other night, tell her husband you said hello, and then finally if she had plans for tonight.

“…are you asking me to hang out?”

“We had fun at that club way back when no?”

“Yeah! But that was how long ago?”

You knew it’s been awhile. You were always friendly with Natalie, meeting her first—well second out of the siblings down at the small mart one summer you helped out at that your great-uncle owned. She was huffing about something her boyfriend at the time, Pete forgot to bring her and some groceries she was picking up for her mom. You were cool enough to become Facebook friends, exchange numbers, go out for coffee and go to the club together. This wasn’t unusual to call each other randomly but you knew she commonly got shit from Michael and Richard about her talking and hanging out with you.

The thing about Natalie Berzatto is that she always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt. Yes she saw your review yet she kinda laughed about it initially but it was all fuck you’s from the other two loud mouth’s. Of course she was going to listen to her brother but she still had a mind of her own. she didn’t care to listen to Richie go off but she understood how Michael felt, although she was the only other Berzatto that heard you out.

Except you didn’t owe anybody an explanation even if some felt you were more cutthroat in your younger years.

“...Before you and Pete even thought about marriage?”

You were younger than them but you imagined how it would always work out for Nat and Pete, which included growing old together.

“Wow! Yeah that sounds right.”

“So…?”

“Can’t do it.”

“You didn’t even hear all the details!”

“I know, I know and it sounds like it’ll be a real fucking blast but if this kid wasn’t sitting on my sciatic nerve constantly and if my feet weren’t the size of two honeydews…I totally would! But I’ll have to decline this time around—so please don’t hate me!”

“I could never!”

“You know you could always ask carmy-

“Why on earth would I do that?” Your reply was instant.

Natalie sighed over the phone, “aspen…the potential of friendship and love is a beautiful thing.”

You scrunched up your face at the phone before placing it back to your ear.

“Do you want me to hang up on you?”

“I’d call you a rude bitch if you did but then get over it.”

“I can live with that because I know it’s real love between you and I.”

“…whatever that means.”

“Right.”

You both laugh, knowing just how weird the subject of love can be. Although you didn’t talk all the time it was always okay for one of the other to drop a venting text or call each other’s way and know the other would get around to responding. The both of you may not be the best of friends but you did consider each other friends regardless. There were conversations between the both of you that no one knew about and would be a constant reminder of what kind of friends the both of you would remain.

Natalie wished things could have been resolved between you and Michael but she reassured that the dislike wasn’t as deep as it seemed. There was no secret that you felt awful about how his life ended and being there for nat during that time also meant a lot. She told you that one of the last conversations she had with Michael was about you and it felt as if he was learning to let go of your review, slowly taking in Nat’s words of you not having a cruel bone in your body especially with all that you’ve done for her.

Anybody that showed his sister true friendship couldn’t be complete garbage. As much as he tolerated Pete, Michael was always aware that he was good enough for his sister. They were all cut from different cloths and the Berzatto’s were just from the same but opposite corner’s.

Natalie telling you this was not to erase any worries you had since that is always brought to the surface when someone you’ve been face to face with before decides to end it all. It was to show you that nobody ever truly knows what anyone is thinking whether there is love there or not.

You can feel Natalie smiling through the phone, “Think about it…all that tension could be smoothed out if you extend the olive branch…now it’s your turn.”

“It’s not my fault he switched up on me after your opening night.” You didn’t lower your voice or make it louder but you were definitely staring at carmy now who was side eyeing you, looking like phineas from phineas and ferb.

“That’s something you need to talk to him about, don’t you think?” Her tone was always so gentle that it made you sick sometimes because she could be right.

“I’m not here to do think pieces.”

“…aren’t you a writer?”

“Have a good night, nat.”

“Ta-Ta!” Natalie sing-songs, “be sure to send me the deets later because carmy never tells me anything! Bye! Chat later!”

Hanging up the phone, you slide it onto the counter and tap your nails against the island. To the right of you, you pick up on some clinking in the bathroom—which sounds somewhat normal and zone in on carmy who’s also holding onto his phone but staring at the blank tv in thought.

“Hey, Carmen.” You call his name.

His bright blues turn to you as if he hasn’t been eavesdropping on your conversation here and there between his texts with Marcus.

“You. Me. The Saffron Simmer. 7pm.”

The air is frigid as the both of you hunch your shoulders shoving through Chicago’s winter. Shockingly the streets are filled with cars tonight so you had to park on the next street over before walking up and around to The Saffron Simmer. Carmy offered to drive, which was a debate—no shock there—since there was no way he was leaving the bear stock van behind for no license having fak to play around in.

Fak definitely found that offensive and said he didn’t mind hanging out at your place, being done with your toilet but with the look you sent him he said he’s find an Uber or fak2 can pick him up. It’s not like you didn’t trust fak in your place…it’s just that the possibilities of what he can get into are endless.

You also didn’t want to ride in the bear’s van not because of shallow reasons, you just wanted to annoy carmy just a bit more for fun. Walking mostly everywhere was the way to go growing up in New York and Carmy working there so doing so here in Chicago wasnt foreign either. However with the type of cold here in this city is enough to give the bravest of hearts hypothermia. So obviously driving was the best option, it’s just the petty back and forth between you two of who will drive had to be spewed.

Eventually you gave in and sat in the passenger side of the van, being on DJ duty for the twenty-five minute drive—something carmy didn’t care to argue over. The both of you made it on time, throwing the door back for carmy to catch then bouncing on your toes while he blew into his gloveless hands waiting on the greeter to find your reservation.

The pictures didn’t do The saffron simmer any justice. There was so much to look at with its modernized speakeasy décor and the high ceilings did a superb job of making the both of you feel small in the spacious space. Thankfully the dress code was business casual so you didn’t have to go all out but you still put in the effort of looking your best in simple attire. You’re shrugging out of your scarf, earmuffs, and puffer coat while Carmy is already seated; with only the removal of his cap across from you in a chair.

He’s watching you as you place everything neatly to the right of you before you're taking a seat in the leather oversized chair, then digging through your tote to pull out your notepad, Sony camera, phone, and bolt pen. You quickly scribble something on the first line and circle it before dropping your pen.

Rolling the sleeves of your long sleeves back underneath your blazer, you roll your shoulders with a close of your eyes before opening them with a look of determination.

“Wow, that was something.” Carmy tells you, making you set your eyes back on him, forgetting just that quick that he was your plus one.

Clasping your hands together you quirk up a brow, “What?”

“Watching you prep.”

You dip your head, “should have seen me before I got dressed…much worse.”

A smirk appears on the corner of Carmy’s lips, “oh yeah?”

“Well yes, I can contain myself in public, Carmen. Your home is supposed to be your safe space so that’s the best place to go a little crazy sometimes.” You inform, yet still not giving too much away.

“Why are you in your head about this place anyway?” Carmy peers around the slightly filled dining area before meeting your eyes once more.

You lift your shoulders, “have you seen the way they market this place? Giving not too much away although it’s top ten restaurants here and I can either contribute to its success or its downfall. They picked me for a reason so my review matters at the end of this year.”

“But you uh-get a thrill out of this shit don’t you? It’s what you signed up for, right?” Carmy is actually relaxed against the chair across from you.

Which is a sight to see.

You state, “it’s part of the job, if that’s what you mean.”

Carmy blinks and seems to get it, “and so you stay.”

“So I stay.” You echo while holding his stare, which is broken by a piece of the stone table lifting and showcasing the menu illuminated by sepia lighting in the dark of the restaurant.

Carmy’s bright eyes are wide as he stares at the menu that appears right in front of your faces. There’s a grin on your face as you rest your fingertips around its rough edges, almost as if you were expecting this while carmy blows out a breath.

“The hell is this place?”

You peek over at him, “some next level shit, berzatto.”

“Yeah…I think I’m starting to catch on.”

You turn your attention back to the menu, swiping your fingertips along the touch screen although you’ve heard things about the menu, which they kept offline since apparently it renews monthly.

“What looks good?”

“Uh…these pages aren’t even labeled." Carmy exhales through his nose, eyes searching all over the tablet, "I have no clue. You?”

The words come at ease for you, "One of almost everything maybe?”

“Sounds good...I guess?”

“On me by the way,” you state with a wink as you flash your company card.

“I’ll get the tip then.” Carmy pats his jeans, the left containing his carton of cigarettes, the right holding his keys, lifting his hips he checks for his wallet although he’s been sitting on his behind for about ten minutes now.

You don’t argue with that, eyes in awe at the selection of items as you start ordering, “don’t forget to order your drink.”

“Water should be fine,” Carmy mutters to himself, eyes scanning over the first strange title of water that is described as flower and ginger infused purified water and decides to go with that.

You finally express after rapidly letting your fingers go over the screen and taking a picture with your phone, “…Okay, so the only way for us to enjoy that huge discount is to act like we’re dating.”

It sounded so easy to you as you quickly shifted to pick up your pen and start writing notes.

“What was that?” Carmy pressed his elbows into the edge of the table, making sure he heard you right since he’s not even sure if he can trust his inner thoughts lately.

You’re still scribbling but also turning your face towards the messy haired chef, “you heard me. We have to act like we’re in a relationship because I’ve definitely went over the budget on the card.”

“That’s not really my problem?”

“Yes it is,” you demand, “you agreed to be my plus one so that’s that. Plus this menu further confirmed my suspicions from the email.”

Carmy scratches at his brow confused, “what are you talking about, aspen?”

“Here,” you swipe across your screen towards Carmy’s device, which brings up another screen instantly to carmy who’s in awe but scans over the details.

You didn’t share the email with him but he’s heard about how high tech this restaurant is but didn’t have the time to do his own research.

*Significant others in attendance are subject to applicable discounts.*

Carmy feels his stomach cramp at the fine print and it so small that he was sure anyone could have missed that.

Not you.

“…how exactly are we supposed to prove that, hm?” He's gripping at his greasy hair now, feeling himself getting a bit worked up about this.

You fanned your hand along, “just do what couples do and follow my lead...Depending on our witnesses,” you whisper as you look around, “they could always assume that’s what we are anyways.”

Part of carmy didn’t like how that came off.

“What, so you’d fake date me for discounted food but you wouldn’t real date me even though I could take you out to the best restaurants out there in town every fucking night if you wanted me to?” Flies out of Carmy’s mouth before he can even process what he’s saying.

That stoops you too, making you press your back against the chair in thought. That wouldn’t be going down in the notes, as you stare at the pen in between your fingers for a moment. Which brings you back to Carmy’s tatted fingers first that touched you in ways that romance novelist craved to write about.

So you may have left that out, how a shared conversation about the “heartless” review of then Chicagoland turned the bear melted into hot and heavy actions in the front seat of your Mazda. It hits you in those same flashes you take of dishes: the unsure sloppy kisses, you taking the lead to get Carmy to just touch you, shaky hands that trace the tattoo from your rib cage down to your hip before soon holding steady and angled just right beneath your red tapered trousers.

“Where did that come from?” You question just as a server greets you, delivering drinks and announcing the small plates should be out in the next five minutes with a timer appearing on both of the stone tablets.

Carmy says, “you—you didn’t just think I forget right?”

“Well I was hoping.” You were honest, “neither of us are ready for relationships—especially hearing about you and Claire.”

Carmy felt his eye twitch, “and how do you know about that?”

Sydney.

You wouldn’t throw her under the bus like that although you could tell carmy already knew.

“I have my resources but don’t think I’ve been asking around about you or anything like that.” You sipped at the raspberry mint cocktail, it could be stronger.

His thumbs are shaking first on the table top but his icy stare made your chest pulsate in a way you didn't particularly like, “…would that be so bad?”

You and carmy didn’t exactly know each other well enough besides a conversation once had and with his hand down your pants! and you trying to get him to crash, clothes still on right in the center of his lap—It was a spur of the moment hookup and you could tell it was not something that happened often for carmy. He never had time for it or bothered to get attached but there was something about you that had him thinking otherwise. What was supposed to be a one time thing that you swept to the back of your mind was being brought up again.

The annoyance overtook what that feeling brought in the front seat of your ride. You weren’t ignoring carmy after that but the both of you had a lot on your plate with him renovating a restaurant and you diving back into your own work. Both fields of work seemed to matter more and not once did you think he ever thought about you in that way.

Communication was important people!

And here you thought he wanted nothing to do with you, especially with you showing up to the grand opening of The Bear. Now here you were months later, basically at your benefit, face to face hearing only pieces of what Carmen Berzatto was thinking.

“Hey, guys!” A familiar voice gathers your attention and you both turn to see Sydney smiling at you two.

Carmy widens his eyes, “Syd, what’re you doing here?”

Sydney snorted, “doing the same thing you’re doing? Having dinner.”

“Right.” He lightly shakes his head.

“Oh my god…am I interrupting this um? Date?” Sydney quickly connected the dots eyeing the both of you back and forth while you’re choking on your drink, “you okay?”

She pats your back for you while you gasp and Carmy slides over his water your way although you have your own glass near by. Gaining some air, you swallow some water and breathe through your nose. Normally you would have a response for Sydney’s joke but given what carmy just said to you had your mind running along with some burning tears you wiped away.

“So this is where you’ve been instead of answering me back?” You decide to switch the subject-you were great at that-wheezing a bit while Carmy scoffs and looks away.

Sydney frowns, “huh? When did you call me besides the FaceTime call…” she starts and pulls out her phone, “oh shit sorry. I placed it on do not disturb like thirty minutes after you didn’t call me back. I got wrapped into some entail about the menu from one of the chef’s that works here and is also a friend.”

Carmy speaks, “Didn’t know you had a connect with anybody here, Syd.”

“Can’t reveal all my moves, Carm.” She winks and lightly elbows him while Carmy sends her a small smile and a shake of his head.

Carmy asks, “scooping out our competition?”

“Only a little," She pinches her fingers before continuing, "and my dad thought it would be a place I wanted to try.” Sydney admits, “and if you two weren’t on a date I’d say let’s make this a group thing! so I’ll be going! I see my dad coming back from the bathroom…he’s got like a bladder problem and I don’t know why I’m sharing that with you two. But bye! Enjoy and just know I’ll be keeping my eye on you two.”

“Fuck,” carmy exhaled feeling his nerves rising, “don’t do that.”

Sydney chuckles to herself and sends a wave to you two before walking back to her table by the window.

“Siddy kicked me to the curb for her dad,” you sigh resting your cheek into your knuckles for a moment, “can’t be mad at that.”

“But you can be mad at me for what exactly?”

“You wanna do this with me right now?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I thought we could move past what happened—

“You can say it you know? Me with my fingers inside—

“Excuse me!” You hiss, “I don’t need you to repeat action by action thank you. I was there too. We both know what happened, we’d agreed we can coexist around this big ass city. I show up to support—

“Did you though?” Carmy pressed, “support me? Or am I waiting for something else to be thrown at me with your upcoming review?”

“What?!” You bite, “is that what your stank ass attitude is about?”

Carmy tightened his jaw just as the first serving was handed over. You let him sulk in that for some time as you study the plating of the four appetizers, making note of each before taking more pictures with your sony.

“I wasn’t there to write a review.” You reply.

“I saw you—

“Let me finish. I understand pressure so I get it but you have to learn to channel your anger and this grief, elsewhere and deal with it better without projecting it onto any and everybody. I’ll tell you that right now that won’t get you anywhere and especially with me, Carmen.” You affirm.

You’ve been in Carmy’s position before so you can speak with experience. He seemed to always be waiting for the worse to continue filling up his plate but it takes time to accept the good in life. He was giving you something but you weren’t sure it was the best option for the both of you and you weren’t afraid to say that.

“Alright…I didn’t come here to talk about feelings either you know? That’s what those meetings are for.” Carmy spills just a tad.

You stare at the vibrant but delicate plating but his tone and the soft upbeat tempo above your heads don’t go unnoticed. “What did you come here for then?”

Carmy blinks and snatches up a spoon, almost weighing it in his hands before he dives the utensil into the dish. He stares as the stretch of cheese, twisting the spoon to break it apart before holding the Macaroni and Brie with Crab out for you to take the first bite.

He doesn’t answer for awhile and so you do the honors of taking a bite and savoring it's texture and taste.

“…that’s not my favorite.” You announce and notice that Carmy waited for your view.

He raises his brows, “tell me about it?”

“They need different plating.” You deeply sigh, “I know that type of plating works best for a dessert and that’s not it. There’s more breadcrumbs than meat, which seems to not be fully removed from its shell so be careful with that. It’s also lacking flavor even with the brie, which is my least favorite kind of cheese in Mac, although many swear by it.”

Carmy flicks his attention to your disappointment to you scribbling into your notepad with a shake of your head. If he was making you a dish, he’d try his hardest to make sure it was everything you ever wanted.

He quickly has his share and thinks to himself.

Carmy can agree, this was lacking flavor and the breadcrumbs didn’t even have a crunch to them. You can’t just depend on the cheese to give you flavor in Mac and cheese.

“What’s your favorite dish? I—I don’t think I ever asked you that. We just went straight into talking about the beef.”

And doing dirty things in the front seat but who needs to relive that?!

You look up from your notes and lift your chin, “you’re looking at it. It’s childish I know...but that’s exactly what it reminds me of: my childhood. Mac and cheese! then as I got into my adulthood…crab kinda took over. Which is funny because I hated on it for so long growing up. My papa—my grandad, he helped my mom raise me, he's from Ocean City so you can only imagine the amount of seafood on our table.”

You’re smiling to yourself and Carmy can’t help but to feel his small laughter lines appear by his lips as you’re locked into some memory only you can remember vividly. This was the most Carmy was learning about you, sure it may not look like much but he didn’t feel the need to dissociate even if at times he really couldn’t help it.

You were the question mark that he wanted to figure out and get all the answers to. Maybe it was his gut and he shouldn’t have blabbed to sugar about you because now Carmy was thinking this was Michael’s doing.

If you believe in that shit.

So the both of you take your time trying the small dishes before getting the main courses. It seems the longer you sit across from each other—the tension was definitely still there especially with Sydney’s eyes burning into the two of you across the room and attempting to not get caught—although she had once or twice but gradually it lifted as you and carmy shared this time together.

He watched you work while you asked for his input before you told your own. He also provided a few things he would do to tweak it if he agreed with what you didn’t enjoy. Which was eye-opening for you, yes you went to school for journalism and sat in on some cooking classes once that also tied into your passion for learning. After completing your first degree you decided culinary may take you to different heights and enrolled into culinary school. You didn’t find the need to continue going through with being a chef after Copenhagen, finding writing to be your stronger suit but you still understood food and the relationship with it when it came to chef’s.

So you took carmy’s input into consideration.

With the last serving being a Asian dessert called, “Jjan Hae,” which consisted of: coconut rice pudding served with fresh citrus (orange, grapefruit, kumquat) and coffee ice cream, topped with crispy pop rice & a shot of Korean rice wine, it was a strange concept but the both of you came to terms with the dessert working well.

Carmy even took a video to show Marcus tomorrow at the bear and sent a photo to an old colleague, Luca, that you were also familiar with considering Noma was a thing that you didn’t bother speaking much on…but it was your turn to give carmy the last serving.

He hesitated since he had his own bowl, which he finished way before you did but it was clear you wanted him to have the last bite so he also took it while saying something with his eyes.

Breaking the stare, the both of you felt your phone buzz with a text. Carmy didn’t jump to answer it right away…he was the worst texter according to Nat and Sydney but you can answer for the both of you as it was a group text from Sydney who was long gone with her dad.

Siddy + (773) XXX-XXXX: Carmy, invite aspen to breakfast in the morning?? See you guys then! 👍🏾😉

“You guys do breakfast at the bear now?” You say lifting your eyes from your screen.

You heard Sydney made a mean omelette but you haven’t been back since earlier this year and you weren’t in the mood for that that night.

Carmy frowns and closes his eyes with a shake of his head, “uh yeah it’s a new thing that Syd came up with but we agreed to do that with everyone once a month…later this month. Why?”

“She wants me to have breakfast with you guys…knowing I’m not a morning person.”

“It’s not happening tomorrow anyway, so what is she talking about?” Carmy digs into his jacket, where he carelessly shoved his phone into after sending the photo off to Luca.

Another text rings out: at carmy’s place. just us three???

Not Sydney making plans and then placing it all at Carmy’s apartment.

He’s taking a breath, almost as a silent reminder for him to do so before his thumbs move over his screen: i don’t even eat breakfast, Syd.

Syd: well youre gonna.

~ Syd has notifications silenced 🌙 ~

“Well, looks like your work wife told your ass.” You laugh, which you translated into her message but didn’t comment further than that.

Carmy harshly exhales through his nostrils in disbelief, “my work wife huh?”

He didn’t hate how that sounded but he also never thought about marriage or relationships in awhile.

“Yeah…the proof is in the pudding, no matter what anyone says.”

Carmy pinched at his bottom lip as he attempts to dryly joke, “I thought it was rice? and what about outside work…”

“That’s something you have to figure out yourself.” You shrug, getting ready to pack up your notes and cameras.

You turn your attention to the table, which knows just when to lift as you tap on the screen to signal that you’re ready to pay while holding out your company card, “are you paying cash for the tip or card?”

“Uh, cash.” Carmy answers, “…what if I’m starting to think about what come’s next?”

“With Syd?” You question, your now sage and mint scented hands flying over the screen as you select the correct paying method before tapping your company card against the screen.

Carmy starts bouncing his leg underneath the table, “with everything.”

“Well…when you’re ready you’ll make moves to make it happen won’t you?”

Carmy dips his head, “you bet.”

And here comes the intense eye contact that you can’t help but to huff out some laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“It’s just people with light eyes always do this thing where they’re just staring into your soul you know? Like damn, relax!”

Carmy’s confused as he holds his wallet open, “uh sorry for having eyes?”

“Shut up, glacier eyes.” You tell while Carmy just snorts at you.

The both of you don’t waste any time rushing back to his car as the clock is approaching 10pm. The wind’s definitely picked up and the temperature dropped, making it easier not to get caught up in the night time city lights which you often liked to do. Back in the van, carmy doesn’t wait to crank up the heat and you don’t bother to mess with the radio this time.

“So?” Carmy asks as he waits for the car to warm up some.

You keep your attention outside the window shield, “yes?”

“What’s the rating?”

“What makes you think I’m going to tell you that, Carmen?” You continue holding yourself.

He sniffs, “I mean—I was sitting across from you the entire night while you told me some of your thoughts.”

“So you thought you should also get the final score? I don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“Ah, I think you’ve got some idea.” Carmy lolls his head over to peek at you.

Laughter bubbles past your lips, “I do. I’ve absolutely had better because—what the fuck was that?”

Carmen feels a crooked smirk appear on his own face, “I don’t want to completely bash other chef’s work but fuck, I thought it was just me? You said it got a 4.3 out of 5? The ambience and service was spot on but…the flavor for most of the dishes?”

“I knew you knew something about seasoning,” you continued laughing while carmy rolled his eyes, “should spend less on the tech and interior and more on some fresh herbs.”

“Isn’t it called simmer saffron?”

That made you laugh even harder as you gripped your stomach, “You’ve got that so backwards!”

And carmy couldn’t help but to scan your features as you laughed and he felt his chest getting somewhat lighter? Just listening to the sound of you and being beside you. What kind of feeling was this? He’s felt it before looking at someone else but that feeling was more of a tug with that light while this one slowly poured in from the black.

“Don’t be too hard on ‘em though? There’s always room for improvement.”

“Sure, but we both know the bear is better and you guys don’t have a waist list months in advance.”

“We also don’t have any celebrities showing up either.”

“Yet.”

Carmy taps his fingers against the steering wheel, appreciating that, “right, yet…I’m sorry about March. I was too in my head about so much shit and you’re right, I took it out on everyone and I’m still trying to make up for it.”

“Effort doesn’t ever go unnoticed if people look and feel it hard enough.”

Carmy chews on his lips at that, “if you believe that…then why do you feel what I said about dating—uh us—about us dating is out of the blue?”

“I said that?”

“Your eyes did. It’s the most expressive thing about you which is funny to me when you talk so much shit about mine when you hide the rest of it away on your face. It’s fucking confusing but I think I gathered that from our dinner tonight.”

Carmy was just as detail oriented as you. It was in his language with food and maybe even in his tattoos that you tried to understand starting with his fingers first. The way he spoke about what he would do with the dishes that were lackluster, except for the dessert—that was pretty good. Carmy wasn’t much of a talker because he wasn’t sure how to express himself, always been that way since you knew of him at Noma…but he told just enough in his dishes and you told just enough between the lines you wrote.

Someone just had to look hard enough.

“…I ever tell you I was engaged? Of course I didn’t, we’re still…I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here Carmen but I’m starting to sense that we could be special if we both want this badly.”

“What do you want?”

“Does anyone ever really know?” You laughed, “ I guess someone to look past the circumstanial and I had that once but then he died. So that was the end of that.”

“You swore off love.”

“Love is many things but maybe I closed off the long lasting part.”

Carmy could relate to that as least with family. He never had much interest in romance even growing up because he lacked that confidence in anything being permanent besides the chaos he’s used to, then he found some of it once he proved what he fucking set out to do yet cooking was all Carmen really opened himself up to. While Luca and others encouraged him to have a night out in the town, he always left early or if there was one person that caught his interest, they get to talking and both get bored of each other since Carmy hardly made the move to take them back to his. Before Noma?

Maybe.

Back in Paris there was one that could have been permanent but Carmy had to break her heart since Noma was calling. Culinary was his true love and he honestly couldn’t tell you what she even looked like now if you asked him. Things that should have mattered tended to get buried in the blue of his mind unfortunately.

He didn’t have the time to be attached and you didn’t want to have your heart ripped out again.

“How’d—

“He was a firefighter.” Was all you said and just those words alone told carmy it was anything but peaceful.

It took a lot for carmy to scream at himself how Michael went out and he imagined it might have been the same for you. So he wouldn’t dare ask for further morbid details because what did that help?

So maybe you weren’t wrong about the both of you not being ready to take that step on going on dates but change was everlasting.

“Uh—what about breakfast then after that not so great meal?” Carmy asks as he pulls off from the curb now.

You think about it. Really think about it that carmy starts to assume you may have dozed off.

“Depends on the time honestly? And who am I to turn down a free meal?” You beamed at Carmy who lifts his shoulders with a chuckle.

Carmy explains, “Syd and I usually start our days early, sometimes even earlier for me if I don’t get enough hours in. but thanks to the reno those on the early shift can get prep ready and I heard…you’re not a morning person?”

You’re just as sarcastic but there’s no lies, “I don’t even know my name or birthdate when I first wake up…what do you think?”

Carmy snickered at that, “okay? So how does 10am sound?”

“That’s pushing it but…I think I can be there so that’ll give me the rest of the day to work from home.”

Carmy nods, “can’t wait to read it. Shake on it?”

“On what? My review or showing up?”

“Both.”

“I’m not sending you a sneak peek, maybe syd or even nat but not you.”

“Ouch.” Carmy mocks, still waiting for your hand to touch his.

And when you do there’s a spark, that makes you yank your hand back and you feel like you’re in one of those cheesy teen movies.

You’re aware carmy’s felt that too but he just clears his throat and placed his hand back on the steering wheel. Leaving you to lightly massage the palm of your hand, now glancing at the profile of carmy’s face.

Life takes time to live but once you start to just let it be, the green starts to stand out more and can be equally as joyous…once you get through the rain and mud that is.

And once the ice blue sets back on you, the both of you can’t exactly see the future but there’s always warmth waiting for the cold to give them a try.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

February fluff anthology series continues here.

[syncopein3d]

Broken World II: Hurts

Part II: Bait

CW for this entire story: non-lethal but serious injuries, personal betrayal, angst, medical restraint, drugging. For this installment: implied past torture, weeping, more angst.

“I’m sorry.”

Somebody was talking. That was irritating. Its ears were ringing, and it felt like somewhere nearby somebody was going to be very sore soon. That didn’t sound like a place it wanted to be conscious in.

“C’mon, Thing, you gotta come back. Come on.” Now someone was scrubbing its breastbone with hard knuckles. It twitched away from this, flailing an arm weakly. It smacked into something that went OOF. “That’s right, hit me harder, wake up and tell me I’m an asshole.”

“You’re an asshole, Bloodless,” Ripper muttered.

“Thank God.” Oh, great, someone was hauling them into a lap now, their head flopping against a muscular shoulder.

“You better not be naked,” they said.

“I have shorts on. There was metal in my jumpsuit, too, I was in a hurry.” He grunted as they shifted position in a way that made them stop trying to move. Ripper squinted their eyes open. Being in jail obviously hadn’t stopped him from working out. Or maybe it was the regeneration that kept him from changing much physically.

From their vantage with their head on Robert’s left shoulder they could see the several scorched holes in his chest and stomach. He’d been hit more than the three times they remembered. They weren’t bullet holes. He would heal from those so fast there wouldn’t even be spatter. It was where his handle came from.

“You got shot,” they said stupidly.

“C-beams fuck up meta powers. The wounds don’t heal as fast. The drugs wore off quick, though, so you know. It hurts, if that makes you feel better. I’m sorry, Ripper. I took a plea deal and part of it was that I help them lure you in. They really want that carnite.”

The Ripper pushed at him and scooted away, then slumped back onto their elbows, head whirling. It would feel so good to just fall over and go back to sleep, but they glared at Robert over their mask instead.

“They’re coming here?”

“What, no. FUCK no, I wanted out, too,” Robert said. “They made me call you, but the lab would still find me at the minimum-security place they promised me.” He shrugged, then winced. “I figured it would work out.”

The Ripper forced itself into a sitting position, head drooping over its lap. “You bastard. You couldn’t know I wouldn’t get shot, too.”

“Hey, take it easy,” Robert said. “You’re just lucky you can’t OD on ceretol. You took like four darts.” There was a scuffing sound of flesh against carpet, and then an arm around its shoulders. It tried to push Robert off without success. A low-level strength meta like his still left him a lot stronger than Ripper even on a good day. He was wheezing as he breathed, which reminded it unpleasantly of the worse parts of last time.

“Fuck you. Is your lung punctured?”

“I dunno. It’s not important. Where are we?”

Where HAD it taken them? The Ripper turned its head slightly, squinting. They were on the floor of a bathroom with a dark red tile floor, sitting on a black rug next to a huge sunken tub. It could see the cubicle with the rain shower in the corner. The shower light was always on, soft and golden.

“My new place,” it said. “Old missile silo.”

“We’re underground?”

“Yeah. I had it renovated. Fake name. Nobody can… Can find us…” It was hard to concentrate. If it tried to stay mad at Bloodless it could stay awake, but now that it knew they were safe for now it was getting harder. They were leaning harder into Robert without meaning to. He was hurt. They shouldn’t lean on him at all, the stupid bastard. God, he was warm. Warm stupid bastard. He smelled a little like sweat and astringent soap.

“It’s okay,” he was saying. “I got you. I got you.” The earth moved. No, they were moving. Robert was carrying them, stifling a grunt of pain.

“Put me down,” they said. It sounded weaker than they intended.

“I’m gonna. Just a sec. Here we go, here.” They were dumped into something squishy – right, they’d made the bed with the big blue comforter a couple days ago, before they went to Doctor Hale. Robert was pulling their shoes off as they lay on their right side. Their field of vision right now included the new black lamp on the oak nightstand and the lighted bathroom doorway over past that. The bathroom looked fuzzy. Maybe they should try and get that fixed.

The comforter wasn’t as warm as Robert, but it was nice. They could feel themselves sinking into it even as their head tried to float off their shoulders.

“When I wake up, I’m gonna kick your ass,” they said, half-muffled by the pillow. A warm hand came to rest on the back of their neck. Robert was on the bed somewhere behind them.

“Anything you want, Thing. Just sleep it off, okay? Just go to sleep.” The big warm fingers, rough-skinned, kneaded carefully at the knot between their shoulders.

“Oh, c’mon…” Well, that wasn’t fair. They couldn’t possibly be expected to stay awake when it felt so good not to think at all. They sighed a big soft sigh and slept. At some point they must have transitioned from drugged and unconscious to actually sleeping, because when they woke up, it was from a dream. It had been running away from men with guns through a giant McDonald’s PlayPlace.

It shifted position very slightly and discovered there was an arm draped across its body from behind. Robert smelled slightly like toothpaste and teakwood body wash, so at some point he’d taken the time to freshen up while they were out. They were in their own queen-size bed in the big slice-shaped bedroom. The main support pillar of the command center stuck out of the new wall that divided the master bath from the bedroom. They’d hung some movie posters on it, mostly from old Full Moon releases. They had the full set of Puppet Master promotionals now. A set of soft display lights lit them from above, already warm and familiar after just a few months.

Everything ached, like they’d been running for hours. “Maybe I overdid it,” Ripper said into the pillow.

“Hm? Wassat?” The arm tightened around them almost spastically, squeezing hard for a second. Its protesting grunt must have gotten through to Robert eventually. He let go with an odd little wheeze. Ripper slid out and went to fumble around in the walk-in closet for a change of clothes, then limped off to shower. It locked the bathroom door pointedly. If Robert wanted to sneak off this time he’d have to pry open two sets of hydraulic doors past the outer junction, because they were currently secured with keyless entry and Ripper hadn’t told him the combinations.

It had debated building the main living space at the bottom of the missile shaft proper, where anyone who wanted to get to it had to climb down hundreds of rickety spiral stairs, but that meant it would also have to climb UP that way if Doctor Hale’s procedure hadn’t worked and it was having to avoid tearing all the time. In case it DID work, there was a half-finished space closed off down there that was technically livable if not exactly fancy.

They felt a little better when they had showered, brushed their teeth, and put on fresh sweats and a fresh mask. They did a few more little stretches in the bathroom, thinking about food. They were going on 600 calories’ worth of coffee drink over almost three days and a LOT of tearing, and that wasn’t helping their mood any, they decided.

“Hey, asshole.” They walked over in their socks to turn the bedside lamp on, then prodded him in the shoulder. “You hungry?”

“What?” He pushed up on one elbow, squinting at them in the dim light. There were still holes in his chest, black and scorched, and now red and angry-looking around the edges. He was wearing probably the biggest pair of sweat pants he’d been able to find. They were a little long, bagging up around his ankles, and they were dark blue.

“You haven’t healed,” the Ripper said.

“C-beams,” said Robert.

“I know. Don’t think that makes up for any of this.”

“I don’t,” Robert said. He raised his hands in surrender as he scooted to the edge of the bed, then almost tilted off it. Ripper had to grab at his back and chest to keep him from falling. They almost jerked their hands back. His skin was hot to the touch. He coughed into his own shoulder, face turned away from them.

“You’re burning up.” They didn’t try to sound nice about it. “Are you sick again?”

“Don’t be mad, Ripper,” Robert mumbled. “I’m not sick. I just get hot sometimes. Metabolism speeds up.”

“I’m not mad about that, idiot, I’m mad that you screwed me over! Why would I be mad about -”

“Look, you can just drop me off somewhere, you know,” Robert said. “I was fine before. I’ll be fine now.”

“No, you won’t, you got caught once already and now you’re hurt,” Ripper hissed. “Get back on the – no, I said get BACK on the fucking bed.” It dragged his legs back up, ignoring his weak protest, and then went to pile pillows behind him to prop him up. “How’d you get caught, anyway?”

“I did a job with Lupara and she rolled on me when they caught her. They shot me about fifty times and I woke up chained to a board.” He paused to breathe, watching them with his eyes half-shut. “Did you know they can legally use drugs to interrogate you when it’s over a billion dollars’ worth of carnite?”

“That’s why they knew about me,” Ripper said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “You didn’t mean to tell. Is that what you’re claiming now?”

“It’s true,” he said, staring past them. The heat in Ripper’s belly died like fire under water. Robert was looking at something outside the room, breathing harder. They could hear the little hitch and wheeze again. “You don’t know.”

Ripper’s stomach sank. “Did they stop at drugs?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “They knew I regenerate. No marks.”

“You’re lying. You’re lying to make me feel sorry for you,” Ripper said.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me, dammit.” He grabbed at their shirt front, dragging them closer. For a second, they were nose to nose, his fist bunched in their tank top, their arm braced against his collarbones. Ripper could see its own reflection in his glassy half-focused eyes. His shoulders heaved. “Hit me. Drop me from the sky, cut my arm off with your damn portals. Do something - ”

They hit him in the face with the heel of their hand. Robert fell back into the pillows, wheezing, and Ripper shook their jarred wrist as they sat there glaring at him.

“That was out of line. You know it was,” Ripper said. They realized his shoulders were still twitching. “Are you – are you crying? Come on, Robert, I didn’t hit you that hard.”

He shut his eyes. Tears leaked out from under the lids. “My name.”

“What?”

“You said my name. Not Bloodless.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Ripper demanded. Robert turned his face away again. They swore softly under their breath as they scooted closer, hip to hip with him. They grabbed his chin to pull it back around. He let them. The red mark on his nose and cheek was already almost gone. “They really fucked with your head,” Ripper said quietly. “You’ve killed people for a living. You barely know me. Why d’you care if I’m angry?”

“I know a lot of people a little bit,” Robert said. “Nobody real well. Nobody who’d do what you did for me last year. You’re the very last person on earth I wanted to fuck over, Thing. But you were the only one who could get me out, too. The only one who would try.”

“Open your eyes,” Ripper said. “C’mon, Robert.”

“I can’t,” he whispered. Ripper exhaled slowly through their nostrils. Then it leaned forward to carefully slide its arms around him, trying to spare the half-healed burn wounds. It could feel his chest jerking as he tried not to sob.

“I believe you,” it said quietly into his ear.

“You can hurt me if it makes you feel better,” Robert said hoarsely, turning his cheek into their cheek. “I don’t mind.”

“I got that. But that doesn’t do anything for me. I only hit you because you scared me,” Ripper said.

“There has to be something I can do,” Robert said. “To make this right.”

“I’ll think about it. Right now, you can calm down and eat something with me. I’m starving. Just stay put, okay? Don’t try to leave.” It straightened up, hands on his shoulders. He slitted his eyes open. They were very dark, and the lashes were long, just like Ripper remembered them.

“I won’t try to leave,” he said.

“Promise.”

“Why should you believe me?” Robert asked.

“Give me a reason to. Promise.”

“I promise not to leave yet,” Robert said.

“Are you allergic to anything?” it asked.

“Nah.”

“I want to make eggs and toast,” Ripper said.

“That sounds great.”

It let him go and went to the stair down to the kitchen and living room level of the old command center. Like the bath, the kitchen was built into a big slice of one side, but there were no dividing walls, just a big island and the place where the hardwood became tile. It ate a protein bar while it was cooking, guiltily, avoiding its own reflection in the shiny avocado-colored toaster. He couldn’t go anywhere, it told itself. He would’ve had to pass through this room, and it would’ve seen him.

It wondered if its mother had a bigger kitchen now. It had sent money a lot even before the carnite, in various different ways, but it had never been able to risk checking. Robert was a risk, obviously. Everyone was. But Robert was also Bloodless. Nobody else in its family had turned up metahuman.

They came back with a loaded tray and sat down facing Robert on the edge of the bed so they could set it across his knees. He was sitting with his eyes closed, head back into the pillows, but he straightened slightly when he felt the weight land. The Ripper watched his eyes come back into focus.

“You made coffee,” he said.

“Yeah. I like coffee. You want tea?”

“Coffee’s fine, I’ll take anything.” The Ripper watched him with half its attention, but it was already eating. His hands were steady enough to eat and drink. He used the fork, even. With all his claims about being raised in a lab, they had half-expected him to eat with his hands. They piled scrambled eggs with ham into a piece of toast and folded it in half completely shamelessly, and after he’d watched this for a minute, he did, too. They ate together quietly for a while in the lamplight, little clinking and chewing noises.

“Anyway, it turned out okay,” the Ripper said grudgingly. “I got you, and they didn’t get me. So I guess you were right even if you were stupid.”

“I’m lucky like that,” Robert said.

“You don’t have some kind of surgically implanted tracking device or something, do you? They didn’t make some kind of plan for if it didn’t work?”

“I don’t think so,” Robert said. “I wasn’t all the way unconscious much while I was in custody. Takes a huge amount of drugs to make any impression at all. Liquor was a real disappointment back in the day.” He looked at the ceiling again as he chewed and swallowed. “And ah. I may have given them the wrong idea about exactly how your meta works.”

“You don’t know that anyway. Not in detail.”

“That’s right,” Robert said. “But I also told them you could only go short distances, and never through walls. Said you hacked a door code to get into the 99B base.”

“Oh.” That explained why they hadn’t taken more precautions to prevent it from getting out of the van after the darts. They’d thought they had it trapped inside a metal box. “Well, it won’t work again, but that was pretty smart for a guy high off his ass and chained to a board.”

Robert brightened slightly, grinning his lopsided grin. “Thanks. You want me to leave after breakfast?”

The Ripper poured them each another cup of coffee. It steamed faintly, little pale curls twisting lazily up toward the ceiling.

“No.”

[konakoro]

Anyways spoilers but my biggest complaint for Ready or Not is that out of all the possible deaths, I’m disappointed Grace never actually got to shoot somebody with the mounted rifle, because it would’ve been spectacular to see how fucked up a body can get after being shot by a gun meant to take down an elephant

[wicked-mind]

Snips

Summary: You are assigned as Bucky’s partner. These are moments or as I like to call them, ‘snips,’ of moments together.

Word Count: 9.2k ( I got carried away )

Warnings: Swearing. Drinking. Some edibles in here. Pining. Serial Killer mentioned (you’re the daughter of one). Violence. 

Note: This contains ‘snips’ of your and Bucky’s relationship/partnership throughout two years together. This contains an idea sparked from Criminal Minds concerning Rossi’s storyline. There will probably more of the Bucky and Snips adventures in the future (:

All Writing Masterlist

Any likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated (: I love that shit!

— The Beginning —

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.” Bucky grumbled with his arms crossed. The last thing he wanted was a partner that wasn’t Steve. Hell, he’d even take the birdbrain, Sam. But Steve had this whole idea that everybody needed a designated partner to go on missions with. He thought it would be good for moral and help create a more open group between the avengers and agents than just having the ‘super squad.’ Bucky followed Steve up to the window here they watched some agents train, glaring down at them. He watched one young blonde haired male agent slip on the obstacle course, causing him to scoff, “Really Steve? They can’t even make it to the end.” Steve chuckles and shakes his head slightly, his arms crossed against his chest, “Don’t worry. You partner isn’t one of these agents. They’re new.” He said, starting to walk further down the hallway until they were looking at the advance training corse. It was set up with androids Tony created to test agents in real life situations. The weapons the androids used weren’t lethal as they were only rubber but left nasty welts and bruises. Steve looked down at the woman pinned behind a concrete barrier as three androids approached, “That’s your partner.”

Bucky looked down at the woman as the androids got closer, watcher her quickly move to take cover behind a metal crate. She was playing too defensively and the androids were cornering her, “God, Steve. She might as well be over with the newbies.” 

Steve looked at Bucky for a moment before back down to the woman, “Just watch, Buck.” He said. He knew Bucky had rolled his eyes but saw from the corner of his eyes that Bucky listened and was watching the woman. The woman peeked her head around the container for a split second before rubber bullets started to fire at her. She took a deep breath and readied her pistol. She looked up to Bucky and Steve for a split second a smirked before stepping out from behind the steel container, eyes closed, and firing three shots. All three bullets hit the three androids in their metal heads, causing them to fall. The woman opened one eye to look at them on the floor before shrugging to herself and walking off the course. Steve looked at Bucky, “Master marksman. Trained by Clint before he retired. She’s top of her class.”

Bucky rolls his eyes over to Steve, “She seems cocky.” He muttered out, arms still crossed against his chest as if to say he wasn’t budging on this partner thing.

Steve smiled slightly and patted Bucky on the shoulder, “Then you two already have something to bond over.” He said with one more pat before leaving Bucky to stand alone in his pout.

Bucky didn’t like very many people. He is not what you would classify as a ‘people person.’ But it’s understandable after all he has been through. So when the idea from Steve came around to set every avenger up with a partner, Bucky wasn’t thrilled about the idea. He didn’t need someone else around him all the time, especially on missions getting in the way. It was a hard first six months of Bucky and you getting to know each other after being partnered with you. You couldn’t even count the times that he called you annoying or a brat. He even called you close to useless one time before you took out a target sneaking up on him which he then apologized for, instead saying you’re just slightly useless. Eventually it seemed a tide had turned and the two of you began being friends. He even gave you a nickname, Snips, given to you due to all your snippy comments you made to him when you went on missions together and also due to you sniping targets at almost a record length.

What you didn’t know is that while you thought you two were becoming good friends, Bucky was developing feelings for you. He loved the way you snapped back to him, always having something to say. He liked having you always looking over his shoulder when on missions even though he spent the first months saying he didn’t need you. You two were like each other’s shadows. Something he loved most about his partnership with you was the trust. You two trusted each other with everything. Loyalty was a big thing to Bucky and the loyalty you gave off just made him like you that much more. Once reporter dared to say something about Bucky still being the Winter Soldier and he had to hold you back from her and drag you away as you yelled obscenities in his defense.

— The Cookie Situation —

There were aspects of the super serum that coursed through Bucky’s veins that he hated. One was that he could never get drunk to have a peaceful night without his nightmares no matter how much whiskey he drank. But he did find something to help take a little bit of the edge off. The super serum that ran through Bucky’s body was different than Steve’s. It was sort of a knock-off version which meant that with enough of the potent ingredient, edibles worked a little bit. He hadn’t really told anybody about this recent development and always had them hand delivered. They were custom baked for him meaning the nice lady who made them always just sent them in a clear container with no warning labels since Bucky was always the one to receive the package personally. His favorite were the peanut butter cookies and he hand an order to be hand delivered today but he had one problem. Bucky was stuck in a stupid meeting with the lead Avengers, going over the missions for the last month. 

You just happened to be taking a walk through the front of the facility when the delivery guy showed up with Bucky’s package. You smiled and signed for it, seeing the cookies through the clear container. You headed back into the facility to set the cookies in Bucky’s room, snatching one for yourself for being such a good delivery girl. 

Bucky looked down at his phone as it buzzed, seeing the message saying ‘My son delivered your cookies to a Ms. Y/L/N.’ Oh no. Oh god. There was no way you weren’t going to eat one of those cookies especially after Bucky had eaten the last slice of your peach pie a few days ago. He quickly sent you a message.

Thanks for picking up my package. Just leave them in my room. For the love of god don’t eat them.

He bit his lip and fiddled with his phone as he waited for you to text him back.

Don’t tell me what to do. You ate my pie.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Bucky had about another hour of this meeting left and meanwhile you probably ate one of his extremely potent cookies. He hoped to god that the cookies wouldn’t kick in for you until he was finished with his meeting. As soon as the meeting ended, Bucky quickly exited the briefing room and started his search for you. First place he looked was the kitchen for obvious reasons but you weren’t there. Instead, Peter Parker, Tony’s partner, was making a sandwich, “Parker! Have you seen Y/N around?”

Peter jumped slightly at the booming of Bucky’s voice, looking at him as he held his sandwich in his hands, “Uhm… Yeah.” He began, “She came in a little bit ago. Her eyeballs were huge, man. I asked her if she wanted a sandwich and she just backed out of the room. Weird right?”

Bucky let out a fake chuckle before swallowing hard, “Yeah, weird.” He muttered, “Well, if you see her come find me.” With that, Bucky turned and continued his search of the facility for you. He eventually gave up on trying to find you himself, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. where is Y/N at in the facility?”

“Ms. Y/L/N is currently in the south elevator.” The AI responded.

“Where is she headed?” Bucky asks.

“No where, Mr. Barnes. Ms. Y/L/N is just standing in the elevator on the second floor.”

Bucky let out a sigh before making his way to the south elevators, clicking the button from the fourth floor hoping you would sill be standing in the elevator. To his luck, there you were when the elevator doors opened standing in the corner with wide eyes looking at Bucky. He walks in and folds his arms, glaring down at you, “Snips. Did you eat one of my cookies?”

You open your mouth to talk but then shut it quickly. Everything was moving different around you like it was somewhere trapped between super slow motion and super speed. You couldn’t figure out which. You bit down on your bottom lip as you stared up at Bucky with blown pupils. When did he get so tall? You glance down to see if for some reason he was wearing high heels but only saw the same black combat boots he always wore perfectly tied.

“Snips!” Bucky said a little louder, snapping his fingers in front of your face to get you out of your trance. He already knew his answer from the way you were looking at him as if trying to discern if he was real or not. The cookies never made him even close to this but then again he was a super soldier.

“Noooo.” You said slowly, drawing out the vowel. You put your hands behind your back and pursed your lips together as you met his gaze.

Bucky ran his flesh hand over his face, trying to figure out what he should do with you when he heard the elevator doors open behind him to see Sam’s eyes flickering between the two. 

“What’re you two doin’ just standing in the elevator?” Sam asks, stepping inside and pressing a button to the fifth floor. As the elevator started to move, he folded his arms as he looked between you and Bucky, who had moved to stand beside you, suspiciously. After a moment of silence, Sam turned his gaze on Bucky, “What did you do?”

Bucky shook his head slightly, “I didn’t…. do anything.” He said which was true. He didn’t do anything. He didn’t give you possibly one of the most potent edible peanut butter cookies in the country. You took it upon yourself to eat the cookie.

Sam raised his eyebrows at Bucky as if to say ‘I don’t believe you’ but before he could dig a little deeper, the elevator doors dinged open and he walked out leaving you and Bucky alone in the elevator again.

Bucky let out a sigh of relief when the elevator doors shut leaving you two alone again. He clicks the seventh floor button so he could take you back to your room where nobody would catch you all wide eyed and zonked out of your brain. He waited for the doors to open before looking at you, “C’mon, Snips.” He said and started walking out of the elevator but as soon as he did you pushed the close door button and the button to the main floor. Bucky turned around to see the doors close, “Snips!” He yelled before hearing the elevator going down. He threw his head back in defeat and frustration, “Holy shit.” He muttered out before heading to take the stairs to find you once again.

With the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y., Bucky figured out you were outside in the small garden area in the backyard. Bucky quickly made his way out there to find you staring at all the different colors of bloomed tulips like it was some sort of miracle or act of god. He walked up and gently put a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N. We should get back to your room.”

You jumped slightly at his hand on your shoulder suddenly, tearing your gaze away from the rainbow of flowers before looking up at Bucky with wide eyes again, “Bucky!” You said before looking back at the flowers, “Do you think the flowers, like, know what color they are? Or are they just as surprised as we are when they bloom?”

Bucky dropped his head at your words. You were completely stoned and not cooperating. He looked back at you, “Snips. Let’s go back to your room and I’ll make you my ma’s spaghetti.” He bargained.

Your eyes immediately dart back to his at the mention of food, “Oooooh…. Noodles.” You said as a smile creeped across your lips, “And sauce. Bucky’s sauce and Bucky’s noodles…” You stifle a laughter at your own words then just start bursting out in laughter, “Bucky’s noodle.”

Bucky stared at you for a moment, “Oh. My. God.” He hissed out at you. That’s it. He’s done trying to be reasonable with you right now. He picks you up and throws you over his shoulder as you’re still howling with laughter into his back and you didn’t stop laughing for a moment until he put you down in the safety of your own room, kicking the door shut behind him. Bucky watches you take a moment to catch your breath and your laughter turn into giggles until you stop laughing, “Snips, listen. That cookie you ate was a very potent edible, alright? You need to stay in here until your come down.”

You tilt your head at his words, narrowing your eyes onto his face to focus before they widened again, “Oh my god. You’re a secret stoner.” You said, pointing your finger at him.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “No I’m not. They barely do anything to me, just helps me sleep.” He defended, glaring at you, “Now sit your ass down and I’ll make the spaghetti.” He ordered, pointing over to the couch.

You salute him, “Yes, Sergeant.” You said with a smile before turning on your toes and plopping yourself down on your small couch and turning on the tv to some cartoon. You listened to Bucky go through the small kitchen in your apartment suite. Even though there was a full community kitchen downstairs, each room came with its own accommodations such as a full bathroom, a living room, a bedroom, and a kitchen as well. You could smell the marinara waft through the room and you made a small ‘mmmm’ noise at the smell before you were interrupted by your phone buzzing. You pulled it out and checked the message before your eyes widened. You launched yourself off the couch and went over to Bucky in the kitchen, “Bucky! Logan’s downstairs!” You whisper, pointing at your phone.

Bucky looked at you confused, “Who’s Logan?” He asks, “And why are you whispering?”

You ignored the second question, continuing in a whisper, “I was supposed to have a date with Logan tonight and he just texted me to say he’s here.” You tell him, still pointing at the phone.

Bucky couldn’t help but flinch as the word ‘date’ passed your lips. Date? You were going on a date with a stranger? He folded his arms, “Nope. No way you’re going out on a date tonight. Stark is still upset about the whole reporter thing, there is no way you’re going out stoned out of your mind. I’ll deal with it.” He said, snatching your phone from you so you couldn’t do anything stupid with it, “Stir the sauce, I’ll be back.”

You nod slowly to Bucky and pick up the wooden spoon, staring to stir the sauce and getting memorized in the act easily.

Bucky watched you for a moment and rolled his eyes at how easily amused you got stirring the red sauce. He walks out of your room and to the elevators, going to the main floor and out to the front of the facility where he saw a black car parked and a man sitting in the driver’s seat. Bucky tapped on the window until the man rolled the window down, “You Logan?” He asks, taking a good look at the man you were supposed to go on a date with. He looked tall, not very much muscle though and was pretty much the exact opposite of Bucky. He had blonde curly hair and big brown eyes.

Logan nods, “Yes, sir. I’m here to pick up Y/N?” He asks, fidgeting with the phone in his hands. He couldn’t lie, the six foot mass of muscle leaning over to peer at him through the window was intimidating. This must be Y/N’s partner she had told him about. 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen tonight, kid.” Bucky muttered out, his lips drawn into a stern line as he looked around Logan’s car before back to Logan, “She’s sick. Sorry she didn’t tell you.” He said, turning to leave but then turned back at Logan, “And next time you ask a girl on a date, bring flowers and actually get out of the car.” He hissed out before making his way back into the facility. You deserved better in Bucky’s mind. You should be greeted with a smile and flowers at the doorstep before being walked to the car where the door would be opened for you. Stupid kids nowadays. Bucky made his way back up to your room where he found you still stirring the sauce, “All taken care of, Snips.”

You shook your head slightly as he came back inside and took the wooden spoon from you, “What’s taken care of?” You ask confused before remembering, “Ah right. Date night.” Bucky put the pasta into the boiling water, “He’s a punk anyway. You deserve better.” He grumbled out but you were already entranced back to the cartoon playing on the tv. He watched you for a moment, wondering what it would be like for him to be on your level. You were happy about anything and found everything interesting or funny. The cookies never did that to him. Once the pasta was done, he set up two servings and slumped on the couch with you, passing you your plate. He watched the dumb cartoon with you, smiling when you would laugh at things he didn’t really think were that funny. Bucky loved the way you laughed, especially right now. It was pure happiness that rang in your voice. When dinner was done, Bucky did the dishes and cleaned up everything before settling back on the couch beside you. You had changed the cartoon to some comedy movie and were snuggled up half asleep on the couch. You gravitated towards his natural warmth, leaning your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his right muscular one. This was the moment Bucky decided he was unbelievably and unbearable in love with you. The way you curled up against him so easily. The way you looked sleeping comfortably against him like you knew he was there to help you, to keep you safe. 

— Birthdays Are The Worst —

Today was special. It was your first birthday as part of the avengers and Wanda as well as Natasha had made a deal about throwing you a surprise breakfast followed by a party later that night. You didn’t like birthdays. It was always the worst day of the year. You used to love your birthday- the cake, gifts, surprises but that changed when you were fifteen. You groaned awake at the sound of your alarm, picking up the clock from the bedside table and yanking the cord out of the wall to shut it up before tossing it at the wall for good measure. You pulled yourself out of bed, already defeated by this day. You managed to stomp yourself into your bathroom without throwing anything else and showered, brushed your teeth, and got yourself ready for the day. You took one last look in the mirror at yourself before walking out of your bedroom and heading to the kitchen glaring at the floor. You almost jumped out of your skin when everybody yelled ‘SURPRISE! Happy birthday!’ You put your hand to your chest as if they gave you a heart attack before looking all of them over. Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Vision, Bucky, and Sam as well as the rest of their partners were there with party hats on and mimosas in their hands with big smiles on their faces. You looked all of them over for a moment standing in place before seeing an unopened champagne bottle on the table behind them. You took a deep breath and stomped over, grabbing the bottle by the neck before turning back to head to your room without a word to anybody. 

Everybody watched you go until the door slammed behind you to your room. Natasha looked over at everybody else, “Okay… What just happened?” She asks confused.

Vision tilts his head slightly, “It seems she is not a fan of birthdays or surprises.”

Steve looked towards Bucky, “Maybe you should go talk with her.” He said, his brow pulled together to create a pinch in his forehead. 

Bucky sighs, “Yeah… I got it.” He says, taking off his party hat and chucking it on the table before heading down the hallway and turning the corner to stand outside your bedroom door. He sighs and knocks softly, “Snips? Wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“Nope!”

Bucky sighs again, “Well, do you at least need help with the cork? You can never do it right and you don’t need to be losin' an eye.”

There was silence for a moment from you before you finally said, “That would be wise.”

Bucky opened your door slowly and walked in, seeing you sitting on the bed untwisting the metal that kept the cork in place in the bottle. He shuts the door behind him and approaches you to take the bottle, popping the cork without causing any foam and passing it back to you. He watched you take a bigger swallow than you probably should’ve and folds his arms, “So which is it? Hate birthdays or surprises? Because I know you like pancakes.”

You look up at Bucky for a moment then back to the champagne bottle, “I don’t hate birthdays or surprises. I just hate my birthday.” You said softly, “Doesn’t help that Logan dropped his phone in the ocean on his stupid vacation so all I got was a text from some random number that said ‘Happy Birthday! Heart, Logan.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. That stupid idiot boyfriend of yours being stupid again, not a surprise. He couldn’t count the times he’s been annoyed at Logan’s late night phone calls with you, the giggle you’d make when you got a message from him, or the way you’d scrunch your nose when he pissed you off. But the thing that annoyed him most was when Logan would scroll through his phone while you watched movies in the living room with everybody else as you curled up next to him as if trying to grasp his attention. Bucky always ended up watching your movements towards Logan more than the movies, he couldn’t even tell you the character’s names in half the movies from being so focused on you. This just added to the list of why he hated Logan, “Your boyfriend is an idiot.” He said, keeping his arms crossed as he watched you take another sip of the champagne, “Why do you hate your birthday?”

You sigh softly, biting your bottom lip. You didn’t want to answer that question. 

“C’mon, Snips.” Bucky said, unfolding his arms and sitting next to you, “It’s me. We tell each other everything.” That was true. You two had a deeper trust than most partners did and you did tell him everything. It’s what made you two the most successful pair when it came to missions even if you two were just as equally reckless. You were always completely open and honest with each other about personal things as well as telling the other when they were being stupid.

You sigh and look up at him from the corner of your eyes, “I made a deal to do something every year on my birthday since I was fifteen. It’s difficult to explain. I’ll just bring you with me.”

Bucky simply nodded, knowing you didn’t want to speak about it and that you would show him the truth soon. He had learned quickly that pressing you wasn’t a good route to go down. You two sat in silence for a while as he watched you take a few more sips of champagne before standing up like you were ready to go. There was already a car with a driver in the front lot waiting to take you to your destination. The drive was just as quiet with Bucky observing the surroundings, trying to figure out where you two were going. But his brow pulled together in confusion when he saw the car pull into a federal maximum security prison, “Y/N, what are we doing here?”

You look over at him, “I’ll explain when we get inside.” You said simply, waiting for the car to pull to a stop to get out. Bucky was right on your heels as you entered, following you through all the security check points before they took you to a meeting room. You looked through the one way glass window as guards brought an older man in with his wrists cuffed as well as his ankles.

Bucky watched the man then looked down at you, “Alright, Snips. What’re we doin’ in a prison on your birthday?”

You keep your eyes on the man who took a seat on one side of the table, a grin on his lips and tapping his fingers on the table as if he was waiting, “Have you ever heard of The Domino Killer?” You ask looking up to Bucky who shook his head, “He was an active serial killer when you were with Hydra so that doesn’t surprise me. He was called the Domino Killer because he would leave hand crafted dominos in the pockets of his victims. He was charged with 32 counts of murder after his daughter turned him in. But he has way more than 32 victims.”

Bucky listened, confusion still written all across his features as he looked at you, “And what does that have to do with you?”

You took a deep breath, “Because he’s my dad. I’m the one that turned him in.” You said softly, “He was supposed to get the death penalty until he made a deal with the DA. He would confess another murder with the location of a body once a year and to one person. Nobody knows about any of this except you. Not even Logan.”

Bucky listened, putting the pieces together, “You’re telling me that asshole in there makes you come here on your birthday to confess a murder to you?” He asks shocked, then shook his head, “No, Y/N. You’re not doing that this year. Forget ‘bout him, he’s nothing.”

You look at Bucky and shook your head, “I have to, Buck. Who knows how many bodies are out there with families waiting to figure out what happened to them… I have to give some sort of peace and if that means sitting across from him while he writes his confession, I’ll do it.” You told him and walked out the door before he could respond. You knew he would watch from behind the glass. You entered the room with your father, swallowing hard and sitting across from him, “Hi, dad.”

Your father grinned, “My beautiful Y/N! Happy birthday, my sweet girl.” He said, moving his hands across the table to take yours but you lean back away. He narrows his eyes at you, “Can smell the alcohol on you, m’dear. Isn’t it a little early for that?”

You grimaced at him, “Yeah, well, it’s my birthday and I can drink when I want. Let’s get to it,” You say, sliding a pencil and the notebook over to him, “Write it down. Every detail.”

Your father sighs, picking up the pencil and starting to write as he spoke, “I ain’t sure why you gotta make this so difficult.” He said, keeping the pencil gliding across the notebook, “All I asked was to see ya once a year on your birthday and ya act like it’s torture.”

“It is.” You replied shortly, keeping your gaze on the notebook instead of meeting his face.

Your father stops writing and looks at you, pointing the pencil at you, “I never treated you badly, little girl.” He reminded, “You had everything your heart could desire ’til you turned me in.”

“What you did was wrong.” You said, meeting his gaze, “Keep writing.”

Bucky watched through the window, his arms crossed and nostrils flaring at your conversation with the man who was your father. He had no idea this was what your father was like, there was nothing about this in your file but it did happen when you were a minor. You must’ve taken your mother’s name after the whole ordeal. Bucky watched you two have short replies back and forth until your father was done writing. He left the room to meet you outside the room as you handed the notebook to the district attorney who thanked you. He walked up and looked down at you with soft eyes, “You alright, Snips?”

You look up at him and nod slightly, “Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s get outta here.”

The rest of your birthday was better. Bucky had made sure to cancel the party Natasha and Wanda had planned for you tonight and instead just had a movie night with everybody. Bucky couldn’t help but feel pity for you- for what you went through at such a young age being the daughter of a prolific serial killer. But he related to the pain of being connected to something you didn’t want to be apart of or had no choice in being apart of. He commended your bravery silently, wondering what it was like for you to have to turn your father in at such a young age. 

— A Change in the Weather —

The current mission you were on together wasn’t exactly going to plan like you two thought it would. Sure, you got the information needed but you didn’t notice the missile that came and struck the quinjet before it was too late and all the flares were used. You and Bucky had to jump out of the back before the missile made contact. The terrain wasn’t the best to be stuck in with no supplies. It was freezing temperatures and snowing. It didn’t help that the two of you had to jump into a lake either. Bucky pulled you from the water, swimming to the shore and carrying you over the slippery rocks as you coughed up water that had been stuck in your lungs. 

“You alright, Snips?” Bucky asks, gently setting you back on your feet but keeping an arm around your waist to keep you from falling. This wasn’t the first time you two had ended up crashing a jet and having to be in the middle of nowhere but the last time was in a nice warm forest area not in a blizzard.

You nod, coughing a little more before taking a deep breath, “Yeah, I’m good.” You said with a half smile and a thumbs up. The cold wind quickly nipped at your wet skin, making you shiver, “Tony’s gonna be pissed about the jet. We gotta get out of this storm or we are going to be popsicles.”

Bucky nods, narrowing his eyes as he looked around, “We should head towards the mountains. Maybe we can find a cave to sit tight in until the storm passes and someone comes to find us. The emergency alarm should’ve been alerted with the jet went down.” He said, removing his arm from your waist and starting a slow stride towards the mountains. 

You nod and follow beside him, keeping up with his strides. It wasn’t long until your teeth were chattering, your wet clothes sticking to your cold skin like ice. You look up at the mountain through the blizzard, only about another mile to go. Your legs started to feel numb and you had no idea how you were still moving them at this point. You stopped, leaning yourself against a tree.

Bucky stopped and looked back at you, “You good?” He asks, not really affected by the cold. He ran hot even if the end of his hair had turned into small icicles. Concern was etched into his features at how cold and weak you looked.

You nod, blinking slowly, “Yeah…” You said softly, your breath shaking from how cold you were. You used your hand to push you away from the tree but your legs betrayed you- instead of putting one foot in front of the other you just collapsed face first into the snow with a groan.

Bucky would’ve laughed at you but he knew your body couldn’t take the cold like his could. He leans down beside you, pulling you up and onto his back with ease, “Hold on, Snips. Not that far now.” He said, pulling your legs around his waist as he piggybacked you the rest of the way to the mountain. He could hear your teeth chattering together in his ear and could feel you shaking violently from the cold, “You need to stay awake.”

“I’m trying…” You whisper towards him between your shivering, “Talk to me about something… How about your date with the girl from accounting? What was her name… Lydia?”

“Lindsey.” Bucky corrected with a small chuckle as he continued stomping through the deep snow, “Ah, I bailed last minute.”

You closed your eyes but listened to him, “What? No! Why? Lindsey seemed nice.” You say softly to him. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his shoulders a little tighter. Bucky was warm even with all the snow collecting on you two. 

Bucky shrugs slightly, his eyes scanning the mountain for any openings for a cave, “She wasn’t really my type.” He replied. 

“What is your type?” You ask, your voice getting softer and more shaky. You needed to get out of this cold. Your fingers and legs were numb and you could feel your suit practically turning to ice on your skin. 

You. Everything that you are. That’s my type. That’s what Bucky wanted to say but instead he settled with, “I’m not sure. I’ll know when I see it though.” He stopped in front of the mountain, looking at the wall but seeing no openings, “Snips, I’m gonna put you down for a minute and run ahead to look around for a cave.” He said, kneeling down and letting you slide off his back onto a rock. He turned and looked at you, staying at your eye level as you seated yourself on the rock with your arms wrapped around your body for any type of warmth, “Hey, you stay awake.” He said, placing a finger under your chin and pulling your face upwards to meet his gaze with your drooping eyes, “I mean it, Snips. Stay. Awake. I won’t be gone long, stay here and wait for me.”

You nod, “Okay. Staying awake.” You said with a small smile to him before watching him run off along the mountain side to look for a cave. Once his figure disappeared into the white of the blizzard, you pulled your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them, tucking your head onto your knees. So… Cold… You thought. You thought you couldn’t get any colder but each passing second proved you wrong, “Stay awake…” You whisper to yourself, lifting your head up. Your vision was blurry as you looked for Bucky through the snow. You blinked a few times, trying to keep the sleep from taking over but you fell over into the snow, looking up to the white sky before darkness surrounded you and you did that thing you weren’t supposed to do. You fell asleep.

Bucky eventually found a cave a little away from where he left you. He ran back to the rock he left you on, groaning when he saw you weren’t sitting there, “Dammit, Y/N.” He growled out, looking around. He paused for a moment and listened, hearing your faint heartbeat and breathing. At first he thought you had wandered off then he heard the soft sounds before seeing some of your fingers sticking out from under the snow beside the rock. He ran over and dropped to his knees, pulling on your arm until you were out of the snow. He swings you up into his arms, pulling you close, “C’mon, doll. Wake up.” He muttered as he quickly started a run to the cave he had found earlier. He had to get you out of this blizzard before you were past the point of waking up again. He walked into the cave, still holding you close as he sat down as far away from the entrance as he could. He held you tightly against his chest as he sat on the floor, rubbing your back as he listened to your shaky breath and soft heartbeat, “Snips, wake up for me.” He muttered over to you.

You adjusted slightly in his grasp, blinking yourself awake. Your icy eyelashes ripped apart from each other, then you huddled towards the warmth in front of you, pressing your face into Bucky’s chest, “I’m awake..” 

“Thank god. You had me worried there.” Bucky breathed out, keeping his hands running along your back, “Gonna warm you up a little more. No more sleeping. As soon as this storm lets up, someone will come get us. As soon as the jet went down it sent a signal.”

“I’m tired, Buck…” You whisper out against his chest, closing your eyes again at his warmth. 

Bucky leans his chin on the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer, “I know. Just stay awake. Let’s talk about… Logan. How’d your vacation with him go last month?” He asks. Truth is, Bucky didn’t want to talk about that annoying boyfriend of yours that always made you laugh and left kisses on the side of your head, but he had to keep you awake. 

You sigh softly, “It didn’t… I broke up with Logan in the airport. I went alone.” You mumble out, “Turns out New Orleans is a pretty good place to be stuck alone. Everybody was friendly and it’s easier to get free drinks when you’re single and sad looking.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped slightly at your words. How could you keep this from him? Here he was, pining over you everyday he had to watch you with that stupid boyfriend. The whole time you were supposed to be on vacation he couldn’t help but be jealous over the fact that you were probably having a romantic time tangled in the sheets with Logan but apparently that wasn’t the case. He wished he would’ve known, he would have taken you to New Orleans and enjoyed it with you, “Why didn’t you tell me, Snips?”

“I didn’t think it was that important.” You say, pulling your head away from his chest to look up at him, “Plus I didn’t want to talk about the reason we broke up in the first place.” Logan had always been jealous of how close you and Bucky were. Logan claimed that you spent too much time with the tin-man even though you explained to him every time you were partners, best friends and that it wasn’t anything he thought. He told you how he would always notice Bucky staring at you from across a room like he was just waiting to get a moment alone with you. The way Bucky would take any chance to make you smile even if Logan was standing right there. He hated the inside jokes you had with Bucky. Logan had said he hated how you were his ‘partner’ and would go off on missions for weeks at a time alone together. 

Bucky frowned slightly at you. You didn’t tell him this. You told him everything- even the dark bits nobody knew about like your dad. But you couldn’t tell him something as simple as a break-up with that moron Logan? He keeps his eyes on you huddled into the warmth of his chest, “Let’s talk about it.” He said, “We don’t have anythin’ else to talk about and you need to stay awake.”

You sigh and look up to him, “We were at the airport and I was late because I saying goodbye to you. That started a fight with Logan and he went in saying he doesn’t trust you with me and hated that we spent so much time together. Then he said I should ask for a new partner instead of being with the Winter Soldier.” You sigh again, “I may have punched him and got locked in the airport jail for twenty four hours before driving myself to New Orleans.”

Bucky listened, his jaw dropping slightly again at the story, “You got arrested punching your boyfriend?” He asks, a slight bit of pride filling his chest at the fact you defended him and punched Logan. 

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected quickly, “And yeah… That’s why Tony was scolding me when I got back from vacation. Apparently I’m already on thin ice because of the whole journalist thing still and getting arrested in a public airport was sort of a big deal.”

Bucky smiles slightly, “Well, I’m proud of ya’.” He said down to you, “It’s about time you got rid of that dumb boyfriend of yours.”

You chuckle slightly, “Yeah… I guess so.” You mutter out quietly.

Bucky eventually lost hope in keeping you awake. Every time you drifted to sleep and he woke you up, you were out in an instant afterwards shivering against his warm body. The only thing he could do was hold you as close to him as possible, trying to keep you warm. He watched your lips slowly turning blue as you let out shivering breathes. Eventually the storm did let up after a while and Bucky could hear a quinjet incoming towards their location. He stood up with you still wrapped in his arms, carrying you towards the noise where Steve and Natasha were waiting at the quinjet. Bucky carried you inside and watched as Natasha inserted an IV into your arm to pump warm fluids through your body as well as wrapping you in heating blankets. There isn’t a word to describe the relief Bucky felt at washing your skin pinked up as well as your lips from the warmth, listening to your breaths grow less ragged and your shivering slowly subside. He planned on giving you a few weeks to recover from almost freezing to death as well as your recent break up before he would take the chance of asking you out.

— I Hate Trains—

Bucky had finally built the courage up to at least ask you out for dinner, or maybe make you dinner and watch a movie together. He hadn’t felt this jittery in a long time. He had been nervous about this for the past week, trying to figure out the perfect way to ask you out but not make it sound like just a friend hang out type of thing. But before he could ask, you two were sent by Tony and Steve on a mission. So here you two were sitting on opposite ends of a train after a random tip came in that there were dangerous Hydra affiliates traveling on the same train. You sat in your seat, pretending to read a book but keeping an eye out around you. The train was pretty much empty besides a few travelers. You looked down and pulled the book up to your nose, speaking into your earpiece to Bucky, “You alright? I know you hate trains.”

Bucky was sitting a few train cars over at the bar, drinking a whiskey and keeping a look out for anybody suspicious. He hears your words in his earpiece and has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, “Shut up, Snips. I’m fine.” He muttered out and looked around slowly, “Everything’s good over here.”

“Good here too.” You mutter out back into the earpiece.

Bucky looked up as a new bartender from the wait staff came and poured him another whiskey. Bucky grumbled out a thanks to the bartender before throwing back the liquid in a single swallow. It hit him like a boulder instantly, his stomach twisting and his vision becoming blurred. He stood up and stumbled out of his stool, looking at the bartender who had a gun pulled out pointing right at him, “Snips… Trouble.”

As soon you heard there was trouble, you threw your book down and started in a rush to get to Bucky a few train cars down. You were quickly blocked by passengers and staff that were Hydra agents undercover. You pulled out your knife and made quick work, knocking them each back as you progressed through the train cars to get to Bucky. Some of the agents landed some blows to your face and stomach but nothing you couldn’t handle. When you managed to get to the train car, you quickly locked the door behind you and slowly walked down the corridor until you saw Bucky slumped in a chair dazed looking. You quickly rush over to him, “Buck, you alright?”

Bucky looked at you, he was seeing three of you staring at him with a concerned look and your voice sounded like you were far away. Whatever the bartender had slipped into his drink was strong enough to garble his brain and make his body feel numb, “Look out.” He muttered out, seeing an agent coming up behind you.

You quickly turn, punch the approaching agent square in the jaw before kicking him back. But just as the Hydra motto went: cut off one head and it’ll be replaced with two more. More agents started advancing at you. You pulled out your knives and fought them the best you could, trying to keep them away from Bucky at all costs. One agent managed to land a good punch to your ribs, causing you to drop to the floor with a yelp.

“Snips!” Bucky yelled in a slur, seeing you get beaten. He still saw three of you but could make out the red bruises that were forming along your jaw as well as the split lip.

You stood slowly, glaring at the four Hydra agents that remained. You kept yourself standing in front of Bucky, knowing he was probably the target they came for. You rolled your shoulders, pulling out your two blades for each hand, “You want him? Gotta go through me…” You hissed out at them. Your ribs ached, knowing you probably had a few cracked and you had taken quite a beating with it being many of them against you. But your will is strong and you wouldn’t let them take Bucky away. He was your partner. Your best friend. Your person. 

Bucky watched as you continued to try and fight the Hydra agents to defend him. He clicked his earpiece, “Sam.. Steve… Anybody we need immediate extraction… I’m down.” He said softly before pushing himself to his feet. He stabilized himself by holding onto the tops of the seats as he watched you take a knee to the same spot from before on your ribs followed by a hard punch to your jaw that made you fall to the ground. As much as it swelled him with pride to see you fight tooth and nail for him, it also caused him pain seeing you take the beatings that were probably meant for him. He stumbled over to the Hydra agent that floored you and landed a hard punch with his vibranium arm to the agent’s face, causing him to fly back and topple over some other agents. With still blurry vision and stumbled steps, he picks you up carefully, “I got you, sweetheart.” He murmured out to you before turning and looking at the emergency door for the train. He walks over to it, adjusting to hold you in his right arm while he pried the emergency door off the hinges, tossing it over at the Hydra agents that were still trying to get to their feet, “Hold on tight, Snips.” He said, holding you to his chest and tucking your head into his arms before taking a jump off the moving train, ducking and rolling as he hit the hard dirt ground.

The next thing you remember after being floored by the enemy agent was staring at the ceiling of the quinjet and Sam trying to talk to you. He sounded like he was underwater and far away, you couldn’t make out his words very well. You look over to across the jet where you saw Steve talking to Bucky who was laying across the floor. When Bucky’s eyes met yours, he stopped mid sentence and tried to get up to go over to you but was held back down by Steve. You reached your arm a little to reach your hand out to him before passing out again.

Sam and Steve got you and Bucky back to the facility and to the med-bay where Dr. Cho was waiting. You were immediately given morphine while they waited for your x-rays to be done of your ribs. They worked on Bucky but whatever Hydra had slipped him was already wearing off and the wounds he sustained from jumping off the moving train were already healing. He was more concerned with how you were doing and the doctors informed him you were being well taken care of. After you were all patched up and weened off of the morphine, you woke up to see Bucky sitting beside you, glaring at you. You groaned slightly and lifted your hand to rub the side of your head, “What’s with the look, Sergeant?” You mumble out.

“You’re an idiot, Y/N.” Bucky hissed out at you much harsher than he originally wanted it to sound. He looked over your bruised face for a moment before his gaze softened, “Taking on all those agents alone was a stupid move. You could’ve been killed.”

“Okay first off, I didn’t die.” You said, looking over to him, “And two, you jumped off a moving train. Don’t talk to me about stupid.” You squirmed your way to sit up in the medical bed with a slight wince at the movement of your ribs, “What did you want me to do, Buck? Just let them kill you? Or worse, take you?” You shook your head at the thought. You couldn’t lose Bucky, “I’ll never let that happen.”

Bucky sighs as he listens to you. Your loyalty to him was unwavering, nothing could tear it down even if it meant you staring death in the eyes, “I’m sorry, Snips.” He said softly, meeting your gaze, “Just seeing you get hurt and not being able to do anything about it…” He flinched at the memories of you getting knocked down to the floor, getting up every time to defend him, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you.”

“Well, I’m still here. Didn’t die remember?” You say, reaching out and placing your hand on his gently, “You’re not losing me and I’m not losing you. Ever. You’re my person, Bucky.”

Bucky’s heart swelled as you called him your person. That’s all he ever wanted to be in every definition of the term. He wanted to be your best friend. Your safe place. Your only love. Your person. He intertwined his fingers with yours slowly and managed to give you a half smile, “And you’re my person, Y/N.” He said back to you before swallowing hard, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you. I was actually going to ask you before then we got assigned on the mission…” He paused, watching you look at him curiously with an eyebrow raised, “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words. Bucky wanted to go on a date… with you? I mean, yes, you’ve thought about it a few times but he was your partner and thought it would be unprofessional to date a coworker let alone your partner which is why you tried dating a civilian like Logan but that obviously didn’t go well. Bucky was a beautiful man, you’ve known that since the first time you laid eyes on him. He had a matching attitude to yours and he was so easy to be around. You watched Bucky stare at you with nervous eyes about what your reaction would be, “Bucky… I…” You began, trying to find your words.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky said, looking away from you in a defeated fashion but kept ahold of your hand tightly as if he never wanted to let you go. He just wanted you to be happy and if that meant just being your best friend and partner, that’s what he would do.

You bit your lip for a moment before speaking, “What I was going to say was that this is a really awkward moment to be asking me out.” You said softly with a small smile, “You just asking me out because you thought I was gonna die? Or you feel pity for me getting the shit beat outta myself for you?”

Bucky narrows his eyes at you as you spoke. You were smiling and that wasn’t a no. You were being snippy with him and it caused a small smile to appear on his face as he squeezed your hand, “Neither, doll.” He told you confidently, “Like I said, was going to ask you before the mission and before I felt pity for you.”

You laugh a little, wincing slightly at the pain your ribs from the action but keeping your smile on your lips, “Alright, Buck.” You told him once you stopped laughing, “I would love to go on a date with you. But I’m not going anywhere until my face is healed up.”

Bucky beams at your answer, grinning like a teenage boy who just had his first kiss. This was just as good as a first kiss. You were the first one he’s actually felt something for since the 40’s. You were his person as much as he was yours, “Don’t worry about that, you’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He said, reaching up his free hand to sweep some hair from your face with his vibranium fingers, “Besides, I rather cook for you.”

You smile at him, “Oh that sounds good.” You reply before an obnoxious smile covered your features, “More of Bucky’s noodle.”

Bucky laughed slightly and shook his head, “Dammit, Snips.” He chuckled out, “You gotta stop saying that.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops @stcrryslibrary@bibliophilewednesday @redhairedfeistynerd​ @princessnnylzays​

[scribbly-dee]

Inspired by this post

I adore corruption arcs, so I graded how well the non-archivist characters would have damned humanity if they had been the archivist.

Sasha James 11/10, would be an ideal archivist, this plus her height is probably why the stranger monster targeted her before she could peak

I have a soft spot for any au that knows Sasha has never seen a brain cell in her life and that any unhinged!Sasha au is really just a regular Sasha au. Picture it with me. Sasha and Jon have parallel archivist tracks, until Sasha (my beloved show off) decides: you know what would make me more efficient at snooping? Becoming a Human Google. And things accelerate. The Web doesn't even need to bother with subtly magic lighters, it slaps all 14 marks on her at once by pulling up next to Sasha in a windowless van with "free secrets 👍" written on the side.

After the Unknowing, Sasha takes over the institute from Elias instead of Martin and Peter. With Tim dead, Jon in a coma, Martin lonely-snatched, Melanie compulsively homicidal, Daisy in the coffin, and Basira on autopilot, she quickly bonds with Rosie, the ultimate nosiness enabler. Sasha is a fully marked archivist for a good long while, but doesn't start the apocalypse right away because she's eager to read ALL the ominous notes Elias left, so the watcher's crown statement is in her to-be-read pile. When the apocalypse starts (Rosie: "Hey, Sasha, I just read something extra fucked up that Elias wrote, wanna see?" Sasha: "God yes."), she books it to become the pupil with Rosie as her anchor. Mayhapse an anchor-archivist polycule with Archivist Jon and Martin? Mayhapse Jon is just a normal eye avatar here and deeply invested in all of Sasha's eyepocalypse statements, so it's Sasha and her plus-three? Mayhapse it's a race across the eyepocalypse wasteland between Archivist Sasha and Archivist Jon to usurp Jonah and become the pupil?

Tim Stoker 2/10 dude's here for a good time, not a long time

The only way I see this working is if Elias disguises not-stranger clues as circus related so Tim is motivated to investigate. Otherwise, his archival assistants are way more curious than him and disobey his direct orders to 🍹chill🏝. Jon, Sasha, and Martin inadvertently bring marks home to him like cats bring home dead birds. He asserts his agency when he decides the best course of action? Actually? Just blow up the archives. This unfortunately puts him in a false sense of security, and Elias makes him read the watcher's crown statement by cat fishing him on grindr and sending the ritual as a dm mid conversation.

Daisy Tonner - 9/10 archivist, would have started doomsday before she was at the archivist job long enough to use her PTO

Daisy already had a lot of experience hunting down fear-entity-related people in sectioned cases, which means she possibly canonically already has all the marks from just hunting avatars who use their powers in self defense. The reason she lost one point is because she's too much of a jock to read, only nerds are culpable to watcher crown statements, so this would be the only delay but oh what a delay it will be.

Melanie King - 7/10 archivist, points awarded for achieving her breakthroughs by smashing her head against a wall until she literally breaks through, points deducted for doing so in full clown makeup.

If Jon got a handful of marks by just asking anoying questions in the same room as an avatar, imagine how much faster Melanie would get marks by bringing her trademark Chaotic Brat personality on fear entity investigations. The apocalypse would have started in like two seasons: one season to hire her off the streets and establish shakey, complex relationships with her new assistants (Jon and Sasha put in the time with the institute but were passed over on this promotion for some random YouTuber (plus they're tighter with Tim and Martin, so proletarian solidarity against the boss)).

Then a second season to stab every mark and get stabbed in return. Melanie would blitz through all 14 marks because what precious little impulse control she starts with is slowly replaced with slaughter juice. One fun moral ambiguity to explore could be if Melanie tries to use her new, dangerous Eye/Slaughter powers to revive her reputation and platform in the supernatural community now that she can, ya know, identify supernatural things for the first time ever. Does she acknowledge her entire career up to her hospital episode apparently only investigated fake sightings? A better question to ask is whether Basira, Tim, and Jon ever let her live down how Ghost Hunt UK's professional dignity was contingent on the legitimacy of her sCiEnTiFiC gHoSt eQuIpMeNt in those episodes, so the temperature spikes set to dramatic music were well and truly just temperature spikes and dramatic music. Sasha found a clip of that music playing as Melanie narrates "it's a message... from the other side..." and made it as her text tone.

Also, it would be hilarious if Melanie tried to kill Jonah on sight in the panopticon, once again botched assassination attempt number 1,963,538, and then Jon quietly snuck in to finish the job on his first try just like in canon.

Jon: "What, like it's hard?"

Basira Hussain 3/10 archivist, her eye alignment manifests as office gossip, like a normal person

Basira has the most formidable super power of all: the power to nope tf out of any conversation or plan she wants. She therefore would probably take 10x longer to start the apocalypse than any other archivist because her fatal flaw is refusal to directly engage with a lot of personally difficult things (like the slaughter bullet surgery she organized, Daisy In General, etc). The marks will be slow going if she resists putting her safety on the line or invests time in making good plans (which is smart, but unhelpful for dooming humanity). She would for sure still get marked and end the world because once she's convinced of a plan (aka Elias convinces her of a plan), she's ruthlessly efficient. So I'd stay out of her way that last year or two, she marks the entities right back at them.

Martin Blackwood 2/10 archivist, considering a prerequisite for creepy eye avatar staring is the ability to make eye contact.

S1 Archivist Martin would probably dote too much on the employees under him to be hugely susceptible to Elias' isolation-dependant manipulation. Any progress Martin inadvertently achieves toward the watcher's crown goal would have to be contingent on it helping his loved ones, which is perfect fuel for a "corrupted by good intentions" arc. This would be key because Martin has superb bullshit and manipulation detection, making the marks are tricky but not impossible to orchistrate considering Jon can't stay put in a safe corner for 10 minutes and Martin's mother would refuse to stay with him where she's safe from avatar threats.

Imagine the petty drama when Jon and Sasha learn he got the promotion they wanted because he lied on his CV.

Other than that, Martin would be even worse about pit stops on the apocalypse road trip than Jon because his Kill Bill mode would have no off switch. Does Archivist!Martin and his anchor Jon ever reach the panopticon? Eventually, but not until after they lose points for significantly reducing the apocalypse fear quantity. Would Annabelle survive to deliver her cryptic MaCHiNAtIoNs and achieve the Web's goal? Hard No, additional point reduction for neutralizing the multiverse invasion. Points potentially earned back if Martin's Web connection is strong enough to come up with the multiverse invasion plan on his own, though.

Georgie Barker 4/10, as a fearless coward, all the fear she feeds to the entities would be khaki flavored. They'd get their apocalypse, but they probably wouldn't enjoy the meal.

Similar to Basira, Georgie has the super power to Fuck This Shit I'm Out. She would overall be a subpar humanity damning archivist; a major archivist success factor of Jon's is that he has enough affective empathy to be afraid with every statement giver he reads, so when Jon archives a statement, he unintentionally contributes to the fear soup seasoning. Combined with how Georgie doesn't want anything to do with entity drama, so any corruption specific to the watcher's crown would stagnate. Even her casual exposition conversations would go like

Georgie: "I've connected no dots."

Melanie: "you've connected a lot of dots??"

Georgie: "I've connected shit all dots."

The reason she gets one more point than Basira is because Georgie's fatal flaw is the passive observer quality the Eye tried to stoke in Jon. Her level of engagement oscillates between two extremes, impulsive over commitment and judging from a distance. This would probably lead her to geting involved just long enough for her involvement to become irreversible, at which point she would try to cut that shit out of her life after it's trapped her. She'd linger, barricading herself on the margins of this problem as the marks that are targeted at her slowly tally up until boom. Apocalypse is on and she only half understands what's happening.

Georgie would wander around an apocalypse hellscape confused, but vibes and physical health fully intact. Anchor!Melanie would have quite the emotional journey starting with Georgie on that pedestal Melanie placed her, and ending with a slaughter avatar stabbing the person who convinced her to work on her slaughter inclination.

[night-fallz]

Jason Todd x Avengers Crossover

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

Unexpected (part 2)

Two days have passed since Clint was saved by Jason. And for some reason, he still can't get the vigilante out of his mind.

Natasha teased him about it but he knows that if she sees Jason in action, she would be intrigued as well.

The way he fought was mesmerizing. Every bullet that was shot was so precisely aimed that the wounds weren't deadly.

Sure it knocked them out, but they weren't gonna die.

That form of marksmanship was only earned through years of hard work. And Clint's worked with Bucky enough times to know that Jason somehow predicted the next move of the attackers, aiming at the non-lethal body parts.

He has a feeling that Bucky and Jason would make an incredible duo.

Which is why he needs them to meet.

Clint doesn't usually do this but the more he thought about the bucket-wearing vigilante, the higher his list of questions got.

He took out his phone, leaning against the couch as he searched for the man that saved him.

vigilante wearing red bucket

He scrolled through google trying to find a decent article on the guy.

After thirty whole minutes of barely finding information, Clint wanted to throw his phone across the room. So far, all he's figured out was that Jason's territory was in Gotham and that his vigilante name is 'Red Hood'.

Which was... creative in a way?

At least it wasn't 'Red Bucket' or 'Bucket Head' or anything like that. It was definitely better than 'Green Arrow'.

After another failed search, he decided to finally give up. There was nothing about Red Hood. All the articles were mainly about Batman, Nightwing, a restaurant place, and a Robin!

He groaned and put his face in his hands. He doesn't care about those overrated heroes, he wants to find out more about Red Hood.

The guy was so cool... he wonders why there were barely any pieces written about him. The few sentences that he's read about the vigilante almost always depicted him in a bad light.

Which was honestly unfair.

He stared at his phone, contemplating on whether or not he should ask Natasha.

On the positive side, he knows that the assassin would have information on Red Hood. Natasha has information on everyone.

But...

Clint didn't want Natasha to tease him even more! If she keeps up with the sarcastic comments then the other Avengers would be curious. And curious Avengers meant nosy people.

He felt himself shiver, really nosy people.

He swears that if he had a sister— older or younger, they would act exactly like how Natasha was acting right now.

He could practically imagine the smirk she was wearing on her face when she picked up.

"Hey, Clint." she casually greeted, "How are you?"

He refrained from gritting his teeth, "I'm doing good." he paused, eyes closing as he took a breath in, this hurt to admit. "I need your help."

"I know."

"What do you know about the Red Hood?"

"The Red Hood?" she hummed under her breath, "Let's see."

Clint heard her moving things around, then he could distinctly hear the noise of paper being flipped. "Do you just have documents of random vigilantes lying around your room?" he couldn't help but ask. "Is this an assassin thing?"

Does Bucky do this too?

"I'm getting you the information you need." she reminded, "How I keep track of the data I have is none of your business."

"Okay, okay." he surrendered, a smile making its way onto his face. "But why don't you just keep it on a computer? Wouldn't that make things easier for you?"

She ignored his question, "Red Hood is an excellent marksman," she stated. "He made his debut as a crime lord by showing a bunch of people a duffel bag filled with the heads of notorious criminals."

Clint let out a whistle, "That is an intense introduction. He's even better than I thought he would be."

"Yeah," Natasha agreed. "He's easily one of the most dangerous and capable vigilantes in Gotham. In a matter of months, he's managed to bring crime down Crime Alley by at least fifty percent. Something that Batman himself, couldn't do. His methods were vicious, but they worked. Extremely well. He's killed a lot of child molesters, human traffickers, and rapists."

Even though Natasha couldn't see him, he tilted his head to the side, biting the inside of his cheek. Clint could care less about what methods Jason used. If they worked, they worked. And it's not like those criminals didn't deserve it. It's just-

Killing takes a lot out of you. Especially when you're young. Clint would know.

He had no doubt in his head that Jason was an incredible fighter. Not to mention that he was also huge— in both height and muscle.

He can see why he has a majority of Gotham fooled.

But, for about a minute, after they won against the ninjas, Jason removed his helmet in order to get a breath of fresh air.

A mask might've been covering his eyes, but Clint's been in the vigilante business for years now. He remembers clear as day, just how young the vigilante looked under the sun.

When Clint first started, he was thankful that he had Natasha to talk to whenever things got hard. Whenever he felt guilty for taking someone's life. No matter how much they deserved it.

Hell, he's still thankful for Natasha now. Without her, Clint would probably be dead. His body found bleeding out in an abandoned area, a neat row of scars on his thighs and arms.

He hopes that Jason has a friend like Natasha. Someone who'd be there for him no matter what. Someone who'd remind him that he was worth it. That he was loved.

Cause if not, then there is no way that the kid is okay.

Natasha's sharp voice interrupted his thoughts, "That was a few years ago. As far as I know, he doesn't kill anymore. The farthest that Hood would go now would be to permanently cripple someone. And even then, he would only do that when the person did something unforgivable."

After a few seconds of silence, Clint opened his mouth. "Is that it?" he couldn't help but question.

"Nope," Natasha admitted. "But it's all I'm willing to tell you."

"Fine then," he smirked. "Keep your assassiny secrets. I got more than I expected anyways."

"What did you get yourself into, Clint? Why all the sudden interest in him? Why all the sudden interest in a vigilante in Gotham?"

He knows that Natasha was just looking out for him. She was worried. "Do you remember a few days ago when I was saved by this Jason guy?" he asked.

"Yeah? You've been talking about him nonstop. He saved your ass and you gave him your number." she paused before adding, "Your private one."

He nodded, "Yeah. Well, he's the Red Hood."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I searched him up and he had the same costume and everything."

"And he actually said that his name was Jason?"

"Yep." he tried to casually say, "It's probably cause Jason's a popular name and stuff."

"Maybe." Natasha hesitantly agreed, "But anyway, since you gave him your number, I think you should know that I've always wanted to meet him so if he texts you soon..."

Her voice trailed off and Clint couldn't hold in his sigh, "Yeah, yeah. I'll arrange a meet-up or whatever."

Her voice automatically brightened, "Actually?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, "Sure. But I wanted to introduce him to Bucky first."

Natasha made a shocked sound of betrayal, "Wha- but Clint!" she whined, "I'm the one who's asking. Not him."

"I know."

It took everything in him to stop the laugh from escaping his mouth.

Complaints about how unfair Clint was being made their way onto his ears and he relished each and every one of them. It wasn't often that he had something Natasha wanted.

Revenge was sweet.

After a few minutes, he let out an incredibly fake gasp. "Sorry, Natasha. I gotta go. I have a kitchen emergency."

"What the fuck, Clint." she demanded, "You don't even know how to cook. Remember the omelet incident? What emerg-"

He hung up.

Clint's definitely going to regret ending the call later. He knows it.

But right now, he could care less.

He has something Natasha wants, so she won't murder him.

... hopefully.

He hopes that he runs into the vigilante soon. Jason was cool and pretty fun to talk to. Clint definitely won't mind fighting at Red Hood's side once more.

They worked really well together.

While they were fighting, he knew that Jason was gonna have his back. He knew that Jason wasn't gonna let him get hurt. It was weird, considering that was the first encounter he's ever had with him.

He doesn't know when Jason is gonna decide to use his number, but he hopes that it'll be soon.

He has questions. And whenever Jason was ready, Clint hopes that he can answer.

Starting with the one that's been clouding his head; why did the Red Hood stop killing?

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

notes:

okay, I didn’t expect to write a chapter this soon. but reading all the comments you guys left on the previous chapter motivated me. to be honest, I didn’t expect this fanfic to get as many hits as it did.

I don’t know when I’m planning on posting this chapter but right now, my goal is to write as much as I can.

I also don’t know exactly how busy my sophomore year of high school will be, but I feel like it’s better to be safe than sorry. Especially if I make the school volleyball team.

I finished writing this chapter on August 8th, and I have tryouts on the 9th through the 11th from 4-6 pm. (wish me luck!)

like always, please, please, please, leave a comment. i love reading them and they just motivate me so much! Whenever I get author’s block, I just re-read them and they help so, so much. If you don’t wanna leave a comment, that’s fine. If you liked this fanfic, please hit that kudos button though.

and if you just wanna chat or if you want to request any ideas or prompts, just message me here.

ooh, and if there’s anything specific you want to read in this series, please tell me. It never hurts to have any extra ideas. plus, I really want to make this fic more enjoyable for everyone.

[possiblypeachy]

; car keys

― summary: most believed you and sam didn’t like each other-- yourselves included. but, when a mission goes awry, so do the hateful little façades you keep up.

― pairing: sam drake x reader

― word count: 3.5k (ish)

― warnings: swearing, violence (of the normal uncharted standard, i feel)

― A/N: this was a request from a while ago but i think it’s too late to like reply directly to it now so instead i present it to you all like this! there’s nothing better than a bit of mr samuel over here to get me back on the writing scene

my requests are OPEN if any of you are so inclined ;)

― ❊ ― 

“Sam, throw me the car keys!”

Your gaze peered above the desk you’d kicked over, in a way similar to a mole testing the daylight, but when a spray of bullets shattered the glass behind you, you soon pushed yourself closer to the ground. Could today have gotten any worse? You didn’t think so. What was supposed to be a simple pick-up had turned into… this: a horrible tangle of guns, curses in a foreign tongue, and really quite lovely upholstery being destroyed. Maybe if you or Sam had died it could be considered worse but, at this point, you wouldn’t have even been surprised. Honestly, you had no idea if Sam was still alive on the other side of that counter; you couldn’t see his head peeking over the top and nor could you see his obnoxiously striped shirt from this angle. 

“What?” 

So he was still alive. 

“The fucking car keys, Sam!” You let loose a few shots, arm twisted uncomfortably so you didn’t have to come entirely out of cover, and blindly hoped that someone would die so you both could have a breather. Yet, the assault continued, made clear by the sound of an empty clip being thrown to the ground over yonder. There: another curse in a language mostly unknown to you but you’d picked up enough in your time here to know that someone had just called you a ‘bitch’, followed by some far more offensive words that you were half-glad you couldn’t understand. There was no answer from your partner and so, despite your throat being dry and sore from the heat, you shouted again, “Sam? Now is not the time to ignore--”

“I gave them back to you!” You could just hear the irritation in his tone and you clenched your jaw. Stupid bastard. “You don’t have them?”

It was then that he took the opportunity to shuffle around the counter, meeting eyes with you briefly, before gesturing for you to make space for him. You, of course, had no choice in whether or not to do this because he was already lunging into a spot that you hadn’t yet made. You both bumped each other briefly, your shoulder knocking against the desk, before you were able to find a comfortable position-- well, as comfortable as possible with about six very angry armed men behind you.  

Now wonderfully pissed off with your partner, you gave him a brief side glance before shooting again. “You’ve lost them?” 

When he rolled his eyes, his head went with them. “I just told you--”

“Well, you didn’t give them back to me--”

“We were near that— uh— that little fish stall and--” He cut himself short, favouring pulling your head back into cover with a hand over arguing with you. He held you there as you came down from your brief-yet-blinding adrenaline high, ensuring that you didn’t foolishly pop up from behind the desk again like some kind of stupid weasel with a death wish. As soon as you realised this, you batted him away, the look on your face dripping with an underlying loss of pride, and reloaded your gun to avoid eye contact. 

Despite your arguments, the pair of you were loyal to a fault and, while you did break your arm half-because of him once, you were both diligent in your protection of each other. When you thought of Sam Drake, your first reaction was to frown and reel off countless stories of him being an asshole. But, did you want hurt to come to him? No. Did you want to stop working with him? No. Did your heart churn a little bit when you thought of moments like these? Perhaps, though you’d be shot dead before you told anyone. When Sully had pointed out this strange hot-and-cold thing you both seemed to have going on, it was like he’d asked a teenage boy if he had certain magazines underneath his bed; “What? No--”, “Why would you ever think that?”, “That’s disgusting”-- you know, all of those lies. 

“If we don’t have the keys, you’re gonna have to radio Victor.” As he mentioned this, he flinched away from bullets overhead, almost knocking his chin on your shoulder. “I broke my radio when we got split.” 

You accidentally elbowed his collar when you turned to shoot. “You’re such a fucking idiot, Sam.”

“Really?” He feigned hurt when you looked at him next. “No, ‘Oh, Sam, I’m glad you’re not injured?’ Or ‘Sam, I’m relieved we found each other--’”

There was the brief, harsh static of a radio to cut him off and, as you asked “Sully?” down it, your gaze was like an ice burn on his skin. 

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“We’re in a bit of a--” bullets slammed into the other side of the desk, wood chips now littering your hair. God, were you glad this thing was thick.

“Got trouble?”

“Yeah, and Sam lost our car keys--”

“I did not--”

“Figure this out at the bike racks behind school.” There was a certain amusement in Sully’s voice-- you could almost picture his sly little grin on the other side of the radio-- but you couldn’t deny that he was probably right; perhaps in the middle of a hotel lobby, surrounded by furious henchmen, wasn’t the best place to argue out your differences. “What do you guys need me to do?”

Sam, of course, still found time to be a wise-ass. “Sit and listen to our woes, Victor. That’s all that we’d like--”

You hit him in the arm and he winced. Rather than listen to your woes, all Sully heard was another spray of bullets on the other end of the receiver. “You’re nearby, right?”

“Got a cigar and some whiskey in that shady little motel we’re staying in, if that’s what you’re asking.”

At that, the pair of you found yourself huffing out a shared laugh between returning fire to those behind you. There was a pained shout-- that’s one down, at least-- and you pressed on the radio again. “Afraid that whiskey might have to wait, old man; we need you here. Now.”

“Preferablywithacar--” Sam managed to squeeze in before you clipped the radio back onto your belt. A brief look was shared between you both-- something similar to the look you’d give a friend when they did something idiotic-- before you, in unison, peeked over the desk again. 

The assailants were starting to encroach on your little bubble of safety and, for each one that you’d taken out, it seemed like more were filing in. To your back, there were the main doors to the hotel, glass shattered all on the lovely red carpet-- a shame. That would be your exit— if Sully got here fast enough. 

You had to give it to the old man: for how many years he had on him, he wasn’t afraid to get those creaky bones moving. By the time you were settled down, a nice partner, a few kids (if you ever really felt like it), Sully’d probably still be out swindling people and getting shot at. It was his passion, you supposed, but, God, at his age you’d rather be at home with a warm drink and a newspaper than making enemies left, right and—

“(Name)!” 

At that, you could’ve jumped out of your skin. But, rather, you were thrown in the gap between Sam and the desk, his grip tight on your bicep, with very little time to think nor realise what was happening. There was a gunshot, then Sam’s body lifted upwards from beside you. Another gunshot, a sharp groan of pain, and a body falling to the floor. Not Sam’s, you were relieved to see— well, Sully would be more relieved to see it. Probably. Yeah, most definitely. 

You reached up to yank him further into cover, lest he get shot. He did follow the force of your pull, sure, but also now your hand was smearing blood along his shirt. Fresh blood. His blood.

“Holy shit! Sam--”

“In the same fucking arm! I got shot in the--” he cut himself off with a groan, obviously tensing too much in his anger and agitating the bullet lodged into his bicep. 

“Are you alright?” There was certainly a worry in your voice that was genuine-- eyes blown-wide.  

Sam shuffled backwards, leaning his back against the desk, pistol still tight in the grip of his other hand. “Yeah, I’m just dandy, honey.”

You could only describe that sarcasm as ‘sobering’ and the familiarity of the fed-up glint in your eyes made him huff out a laugh. However, you didn’t seem to be finding the same humour in the situation as he was and you unclipped the radio from your belt. “Sully? Where are you?”

Bullets rang out across the room again and, just as Sam went to lean up over the desk and shoot, you pressed him back down with the radio to his chest and a quiet, “Don’t”. Instead, you took to retaliating against the opposition, the overwhelming adrenaline making your aim shaky and your head ache. 

Sam clicked the radio on again. “Victor, buddy,” his voice sounded weak but in an overwhelmingly fake way; you would’ve shot him a chiding look had you not been trying to keep you both alive, “I think I’m bleeding out. I won’t last long. You gotta look after (Name) when I’m--”

A grenade smashed yet more of the window-- but from the outside this time. There was the distant rev of a car and-- you sniffed the air-- could you already smell cigars? You curled yourself over Sam, pulling his head down beneath you so no shrapnel from the explosion gave him the excuse to complain more. 

The blast was deafening and you found one of your eyes watering at the pain of the noise. It seemed to have taken the majority of them out, the panicked shouting of a man with a dead leg the only thing you could hear on the other side of the lobby. Then, there was a loud, slow creaking as if a tree were about to fall or maybe that huge support column in the lobby--

“Holy shit.” 

You began to hoist Sam up, tugging on his good arm to get him to his feet. “Sam-- Sam, we’ve gotta--” your eyes flickered up to the beam and it was splintering at the bottom, the ceiling following its swaying movements, “-- move. Now!”

“I know! I know!” He stumbled forward, almost falling straight into the glass-laced carpet if not for you being a wonderful makeshift pole. “Victor better have some bandages in that car…”

Glass crunching underfoot, the pair of you pushed out to the getaway vehicle-- a car that looked like a rusted 1970s sedan-- loose shots being made behind you in case anyone tried to follow. Now, you were unsure if you trusted the building to stay up more than you trusted this shitty little car to get the three of you away in time but you bit the bullet and began to shovel yourself into the back with Sam-- who you think almost cried when you accidentally pushed near his bullet wound. 

“Step on it, Victor.”

Sully didn’t need much more than that to kick the engine into gear. The exhaust sputtered something out of it, a cloud of black rising behind the car, then the tires began to squeak and you were launched into motion. One hand was on Sam’s chest to keep him from careening through the windscreen and the other was on the back of Sully’s chair to stabilise yourself. 

“Did you bring any bandages or--”

“In the trunk, kiddo.” 

You hummed and leant up over the backseat and, as you flailed your arm around in the back trying to reach the medical supplies, through the tiny rear window you could see the second level of the hotel sliding to the left and destroying the poor little convenience store next door. A shame; you’d gotten a lovely bottle of juice there just before the whole fiasco. 

Sam’s groaning beside you made you snap your head around to look at him, a quiet “oh yeah” from you gearing him up perfectly for one his stupid comments. However, Sully turned a corner a little too vigorously and Sam had to bite his tongue to keep back a groan. Thank God. 

“Don’t cry.” Your tone was mocking and you gave him a smart-assed half-smile as you unravelled the bandages. With more gentleness than either of you would care to admit, you lifted his arm slightly and, when Sam sucked in a breath through his teeth, your hand was light and comforting on his stomach. “Hold it there for me.” He hummed, nodding, and you then went about wrapping his wound up; you’d clean him up properly at the hotel but, for now, you had to make sure that nothing could happen to it— or him— on the way there. 

Damn this country and it’s jagged roads; this car ride was going to be hellish.

--

Sully threw you the keys to your room-- the smallest of the three, which you were less than happy about-- and you fumbled with the lock for a few moments. “Sam! In here.” You gestured with your head towards the room, holding the door open with a foot while the other half of your body ushered him inside.

“I appreciate the sentiment but I just don’t think my performance would be--”

“Shut up.” As usual, your look was harsh but it made him smile anyway. “I’m gonna clean your arm up.”

He grimaced-- for fair reason. “Surely a medical professional would be better for this?”

You began to rummage through your tiny suitcase for anything that might help with the pain or the cleansing or… anything really. “I’m as close as you’re gonna get to a doctor in this forsaken country.” You could feel his exasperated stare on the back of your head. “You’ll be fine; I took a first aid course.” There was a pause. “Well, I half took it; couldn’t pay for the rest of the lessons.”

“That makes me feel great.” As you turned, your gaze met with his crooked, sarcastic smile. 

“It can’t be any worse than a Shoreline mercenary pulling it out of you.”

He sat down on the edge of your bed and groaned. “Don’t remind me.” 

At that, you finally laughed, crouching down beside him with a few tabs of low-strength painkillers-- it’s better than nothing, right?-- and a damp towel. He lifted his arm for you slightly as you unbandaged him, hoping that the bleeding would’ve subsided a little bit at least. It had, luckily, but it didn’t stop the wound from looking nasty; you hoped to never find out what a bullet felt like.

He winced when you began to clean up the blood, lightly dabbing the area with the towel. He should stay out of commission for a while now to recover but would he? Certainly not; he wouldn’t be the Sam you knew if he did. “You shouldn’t have taken the bullet, Sam.” You idly mentioned, aware that he was injured because of you, to which he made some sort of incredulous noise as if you were being ridiculous.

“That guy would’ve shot you in a far worse place than the arm.” He glanced down at you briefly, trying to gauge what you were feeling, but was simply met with you frowning as you folded the towel to a cleaner section. “Besides, I’ve got a reputation as a hero to upkeep.”

“I’ll hit you in the bad arm--”

“No, no! Don’t!”

A look was shared between you, quiet laughter surrounding you both, before you continued on cleaning his wound. There was a moment of silence, then you said, “Job’ll be less interesting if you have to take time off.”

He inhaled-- sharply. “Was that almost a compliment?” At his wide grin, you found yourself huffing out a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m astounded, honestly. I didn’t know you had a kind bone in your body.”

“You say, as I tenderly clean your wound.” 

He chuckled at that but said nothing more between winces of pain, the sting of you cleaning it now hurting less than the ache of the wound itself. The quiet was comfortable-- something that not many would’ve expected between the two of you-- and Sam leant slightly, unknowingly or not, closer. It seemed as though he was trying to watch you pat at his injury but you would rather do anything than move your gaze away from the task at hand to check, lest you lock eyes with him and he says something about it, lips tugged up at one corner. 

You pursed your lips, deciding whether or not you were satisfied with your work, before leaning over the bed to grab the gauze and bandages. It wouldn’t be your problem to remove the bullet; Sam would have to go to a hospital for that-- you weren’t about to fuck up his arm with a pair of tweezers and a handful of determination. Instead, you were just going to pad it and bandage it a little, maybe offer to help him clean it again later if he was lucky. 

Just as you lined up the gauze and began to carefully wrap the bandage around his arm, Sam moved somewhat and it forced you to stop, shooting him a look of both concern and confusion. He closed his eyes for a moment, during which you furrowed your brows, and when he opened them he said: “I’d do it again, you know?”

“What? Get shot?”

“For you, yeah. I’d do it again.” 

You swallowed and simply continued to bandage him up. God knows how you were supposed to react. You didn’t know what he meant behind his words-- or at least you didn’t want to get any hopes up-- but you would be lying if you couldn’t hear your heart in your ears right now. 

So, you laughed.

It was breathy-- through the nose-- and your brows raised at the same time but you didn’t dare to look up at him. “How much blood did you lose, Sam?”

“Don’t--” he sighed, cutting himself off in favour of rolling his eyes. “Look at me, (Name).” You refused to. Adamantly so. “Please.” There was a pause. Then, you decided that you’d bite the bullet and let your gaze drag from the ever-so-interesting task of bandaging to his face. For a moment, it seemed like he’d lost all ability to speak, mouth open like he was meant to be saying something. Instead, he blinked and rolled his lips inward; it seemed like he was trying to bite a bullet of his own. “I’m… tired of acting like I hate you just to-- to push back--” it appeared that Sam wasn’t as good with words as he always made out but you couldn’t blame him; he was on the verge of saying things you had only thought of-- a guilty daydream that happened on long car rides or a look thrown at him that had shown only a fraction of what you had been thinking about. “To push back whatever the fuck goes on in my mind when I look at you. It’s… ridiculous.”

At that, you laughed quietly, breaking away from his gaze to look down at your hands. When your eyes met his again, he seemed confused. Sam raised a brow, to which you gave a smile. “I didn’t know you were such a wordsmith, Sir Samuel.”

He groaned but that grin of his was unmistakable. “I can’t fuckin’ believe you.” Usually, such a phrase would be said with a bit of growl behind it-- some spite-- but this time it was almost adoring. That in itself made you smile up at him, creating a pause in which you seemed to just be studying his face. You took that moment to grab his chin between your thumb and forefinger, drawing him closer to you until you could--

“Hey, Sam? Do you have a spare lighter? I must’a--” The door opened, revealing Sully who had been hopelessly patting himself down until he laid eyes upon the scene before him. The pair of you scrambled apart, both still too used to acting like you despised each other to be seen within a metre of the other, but Sully had already seen. He had already had time to process. So, there came the expected “Oh ho ho ho!”, to which both you and Sam sighed and let your heads loll backwards. “You wait till I tell Nate about this! He owes me twenty bucks.” 

With that, Sully left the room, a terrible grin on his face, already pulling his phone out of his back pocket. Silence fell over the two of you until Sam finally let his gaze drag back to you and you met him with the same amount of fatigue in your eyes. It was then that you both began to laugh.

“We’re never gonna hear the end of it, are we?”

He pshhh-ed. “No. Of course not.”

[r6shippingdelivery]

I saw someone on Twitter post about how they wanted to see jealous Glaz, and I was struck by inspiration 😄 This fic is mostly about Glaz's perception of his place in Rainbow after Kali joins, and the bit with Fuze can be read as friendship or budding romance, whatever your like better.

WARNING: While Glaz is an unreliable narrator here, and Kali is not outright demonized, I haven't been kind to her either. So if she's your favorite character, proceed with caution.

You can also read the story in AO3, as the latest chapter of the Discord Ficlets collection.

Hatred was a shallow emotion, one that lived at surface level and hid deeper and more complex feelings, ones that people found harder to confront or admit and thus resorted to hate.

Glaz experienced that during his stint in the South Ossetia War, when the hatred they all felt for the enemy was just a cover for their sense of helplessness at stopping so much unnecessary death. As always, art became a way to express and work out his emotions, and from what he saw it was far healthier than drowning his sorrows in alcohol like most of his fellow soldiers did.

Over the years, Glaz had acquired a reputation for being a pretty stable person, not letting his emotions rule him but not burying and ignoring them either. So it was a shock to realise he was letting his emotions rule his opinion of a certain person.

It would be unfair to say he hated Kali. The Nighthaven leader had done nothing directly unpleasant to him, in fact Glaz wasn’t even sure if they ever had a conversation. But fuck, seeing her smug face made his blood boil. Admitting he was jealous was a bitter pill to swallow.

Glaz felt sidelined since she arrived. At first it had been normal that Kali got so much action in training matches and different situations, Harry always did that to ensure new additions got properly integrated in the team. However, Kali stopped being the new one and she kept being requested more and more often. If someone devised a plan that required a sniper, it was always her that got the call, almost never Glaz.

Sure, she was an excellent shot, but so was he. So were the other operators who had marksman training. Yet the only requested sniper was Kali. Even for the strategies that relied heavily on stealth, which made no sense to Glaz since Kali’s rifle was extremely loud and she refused to use a silencer. She insisted it wasn’t compatible with her weapon, which was utter bullshit in Glaz’s opinion. Then there were the snippets of conversations he heard from her in the shooting range.

“Of course I don’t use a thermal scope, that’s a crutch, and those are for beginners, not professionals.”

“I don’t hide behind smoke curtains like a child clinging to their mother’s skirts.”

“I could give you some pointers, you’d benefit by learning from a real sniper, Dokka.”

The gall of that woman! Glaz had never wanted to wipe the floor with someone as much as he did then, but when he approached them to offer a friendly marksman competition, Dokkaebi happily accepted while Kali sniffed and declined. “I’m busy now, maybe another time.”

Glaz silently fumed for days. He didn’t give a damn about Kali’s opinions; he knew he was an excellent sniper and she could make as many snide comments as she wanted. Nothing would change the truth. However, Glaz also had the feeling she was trying to undermine him, and he didn’t like that. Most operators in Rainbow were competitive by nature, but except for a few rivalries, the trash talking had always remained upfront and somewhat respectful, never behind another operator’s back. Things remained as they were, somewhat tense but peaceful, for a long time. Until the Invitational rolled around.

When the teams were publicly announced, the Spetsnaz were collectively surprised some of them were chosen to participate, unlike the previous year. Glaz didn’t mind sitting among the public again, and privately he and Kapkan made a point of keeping an eye out during the event. The White Masks might have been mostly obliterated, but they weren’t the only terrorist group in the world, and a huge gathering like this would be a tempting objective for any group looking to make a name for themselves. So he was fine with not being selected, truly. However, what he wasn’t fine with was the way Harry said one particular thing:

“And to showcase Rainbow’s prowess in long distance combat, team Ash will have our resident sniper, Kali.”

Seriously? The resident sniper, as in the only one? Glaz grit his teeth so hard he was sure everyone in the room could hear it. He refused to say anything, though, he wouldn’t turn this briefing into a spectacle. However, that didn’t stop him from hoping Tachanka would teach her a lesson with his new fire grenades. That would certainly put a smile on Glaz’s face.

Alas, that was not meant to happen, even if it came pretty close to actually becoming a reality. In the end, Tachanka’s team was eliminated, same as Fuze’s, and the tournament went on. Glaz thought nothing else would happen, and aside from secretly hoping for team Mira to win, he largely lost interest in the competition. Yet the competition, or more accurately, Kali, didn’t lose interest in them.

When Fuze told them he’d been invited to train with Nighthaven, none of the Spetsnaz was particularly pleased, since they worked better as a team, but they didn’t voice any objections either. Glaz wanted to, he wanted to forbid Fuze from doing it, but he was a rational man and knew that was both unreasonable and a douchebag move. If Fuze wanted to train with others, he was free to do so, of course. Glaz kept repeating that to himself, even if deep down he was sure that Kali woman wanted to take everything that he had, from his position as a sniper to his friends.

Aware of how childish that sounded, Glaz grimaced at his own thoughts. He needed to calm his mind, and as always, he turned to art. Painting would surely grant him that state of inner peace he sorely needed while waiting for Fuze to come back from his session with Nighthaven. Losing himself in the process of creating something always helped Glaz exorcise his demons, and also lose track of the world around him. At least until Fuze came back.

Most people painted Fuze as unreadable, but he wasn’t to Glaz. The artist could see clear as day that Fuze was deep in thought. The curiosity and need to know was eating Glaz inside.

“How did it go?” He asked, aiming for a casual and carefree tone. He wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“Interesting.” As always, Fuze was succinct and straight to the point, going for the shortest message. However, Glaz knew that if one took the time to shut up and listen, Fuze would say more. “They’re an effective team, very competitive. It’s good to have them working with us and not against us, but I don’t think they feel part of Rainbow.”

It wasn’t the first time Glaz heard before some of those sentiments echoed around when it came to Nighthaven, but Fuze delivered with an admirable lack of judgement. The Uzbek relayed a blow by blow account of the training match, and Glaz wondered how Aruni felt at Kali’s call of her safety being expendable. It was just a game for now, but training built habits that one carried back to the battlefield. He was still pondering over what he heard when Fuze dropped a bombshell that shook him to the core.

“Kali offered me work in Nighthaven.”

Glaz saw red, and for a moment he couldn’t think. The looks in his eyes must have been a veritable maelstrom of repressed anger and jealousy, because Fuze looked taken aback. A burning sensation coiled in his chest, and Glaz clenched his fist hard to avoid unleashing a storm of swears, since Fuze wasn’t the target of his fury.

*crack*

The paint brush he’d been holding broke under the pressure of his clenched hand, but Glaz didn’t notice, and clenched his fist even tighter.

“Timur!”

It was Fuze calling out his name that finally brought Glaz down to earth, away from the dark spiral of what ifs where Fuze left the team, lured away by Kali. He opened his hands, revealing the brush he accidentally snapped in half, and how the jagged edge of the broken wood had sunk into his palm. Oh. He hadn’t even noticed that.

Glaz briefly mourned the loss of his favorite small brush, dropping the pieces aside and wiping the blood from his palm carelessly. “And? Did you accept?”

Fuze regarded him in silence for a few seconds, before shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe Glaz’s foolishness. “Of course not. I have my team. And I’m not going anywhere.” This assurance was a balm for Glaz’s turmoil, but then Fuze added with a smirk. “Besides, I know you always have my back and won’t put a bullet in me, not even a fake one.”

The laugh and lingering look they shared made Glaz feel that all was right in the world, at least for a little while. He knew he could always count on his team, on his friends, and having this belief reaffirmed soothed him like nothing else did. It had been foolish to think Fuze would leave him.

[asexualzoro]

list of reasons i find Brook ridiculous

for brook’s birthday, ive decided to follow up my other two posts of this genre by dragging yet another idiot swordsman. i have everybrook open on my phone next to me. here we go

- first and foremost his most ridiculous crime is existing. as he’s already so ridiculous as a character, im going to talk only about things hes done

- i want to know, did Brook make a conscious effort to change his laugh to sound like his favorite song? how long did it take? what was the in between period like? what did his crew have to say about this? the rumbar pirates were big on playful teasing, did they let Brook live this down? 

- ALTERNATIVELY: was brook’s laugh already like that? is that why bink’s sake is his favorite song? is that why it was York’s favorite-- oh we only made it two bullet points before i made myself sad

- relatedly i cannot make fun of anything Brook did in his backstory it will make me too sad. hes spared for now

- i DO want to say from a writing standpoint its so fucking ridiculous to me that he mentions twice being a convoy captain in the past and it never comes up again. oda?? why even bother to include something that cool if you weren't even going to do anything with it?? you could have said hes just always been a pirate but no. oda?? oda

- there was that bit where a bunch of people thought Brook was satan and addressed him as such (i think Satan-sama in the original, and the translation i read was like... Lord Satan or Lord Demon or something). not only did Brook never correct them, but he also ran with it and later used this case of mistaken identity as a reason to threaten to eat a man’s heart 

- also both men and women were showing him their underwear in that bit. bi rights

- those satanists let Brook get kidnapped while saying they would try to summon him back. do you think they're still at it

- Brook is older than... basically every old man in the series. Garp, Whitebeard, Rayleigh... all of them. something about that is so weird to me and i cannot place why

- Brook has seen and can prove the existence of an afterlife in One Piece canon and its then never addressed again

- Brook missed so many huge events while being dead. im looking at a timeline rn and these include the obvious, like, roger’s execution and subsequent effect on in-world culture and society and whatever. but also things like the destruction of ohara (which was in his home sea), the founding of the world power known as the revolutionary army (which was about 20yrs ago), and the births of every other member of his crew. wack

- he seems to know about stuff related to the pirate king post time skip, and i wonder if thats because someone told him or he’s just playing along now. maybe he just thinks Luffy made up the term pirate king cuz it sounds cool and he wants to support his captain’s interests

- if he DID ask though, like, who did he ask? his managers? did he pull aside some fan asking for an autograph at a concert like “hey, you look like a knowledgable young lad, mind helping me out?”

- i would love to be there when someone takes the time to explain roger, the pirate king, raffle, the One Piece.... and Brook asks them “what is the One Piece?”.... and someone has to look him in the eye (...or not) and tell him “i don't know” 

- Brook has technically died of fright (his soul left his body), like... at least once? it was luffy’s fault

- Brook was an urban legend on the florian triangle and i doubt he even knows that about himself

- when they're heading to fishmen island Brook gets all scared when they encounter a possible ghost ship and Usopp slaps him

- when captured by big mom he sleeps so godamn soundly and securely that he is harder to wake up than she is and this fact nearly gets a bunch of his crew killed

- Brook is the only character i can think of who has ever broken the fourth wall. he only did it once. maybe seeing the afterlife means he now knows hes in a manga. or maybe being isolated for 50 years just made his head be not screwed on right

- speaking of, there’s a bit in WCI at the wedding where Brook is decapitated. i don't know how it goes in the anime, but in the manga like... no one is shown to have decapitated him. his head just pops off. maybe he was just having fun

- also the bit where he rips the fake face off in wci. when someone calls him gross he cries

- there’s a bit in fishmen island where Brook is trying to ask Nami if he can see her panties (disgusting bastard) and he inadvertently protects her from being dehydrated by some guy they were fighting. except the panel setup reminds me a lot of / mimics ace protecting Luffy from Akainu, and it haunts me

- speaking of bits from fishmen island that haunt me, there's a page where it’s strongly implied Brook fucked a mermaid (maybe two). i will of course include the page here

- yeah. sorry. 

- when Brook first meets the strawhats he invites himself inside because “it’s cold out!” but he later admits in punk hazard that he cant feel cold. he was just lying

- no one introduces himself to Brook except Luffy for the entirety of thriller bark

- half related, Franky cradles Brook in his arms / carries Brook around for like a full scene in thriller bark 

- there's a link two second bit in film gold where the crew is just relaxing while they're planning for how they're going to get Zoro back and they're all shown eating burgers from pirate mcdonalds or whatever. and Brook is eating a burger and hes so messy that hes got burger on his forehead, and Franky is next to him just looking at him

- Brook also wears fake skin in that movie

- Brook has a running gag where he gets upset when things refuse to eat him and i was going to make a joke about it but im wondering if maybe hes just afraid of being left behind........ made myself sad again

- he cries when a dragon won't eat him tho

- Brook admits to reading monster hentai when talking to Sanji and Kin’emon and if i have to be burdened with knowing that so do you

- when hes trying to figure out the weakness of the zombies on thriller bark he overhears one ate a salted fish and lost its shadow and immediately assumes “oh, must have been the fish!” idiot man

- where does his sword cane go when hes not using it. it just appears. where does he store it

- there's a bit where the strawhats all use a combo attack at thriller bark and the first step is firing an electrically charged Brook in a slingshot through oars/oz. he ends up in a wall and no one ever pulls him out. i don't even think the manga shows how he got down

- enemies post time skip regularly assume Brook is dead when they manage to knock the crew out and it makes me wonder how popular of a rock star Brook actually was

- Brook goes on a mini rant to no one while they're descending to fisherman island where he wonders aloud how he sees without eyes and it makes me lose it

- this isn't Brook technically but Nekomamushi is based on a song Brook’s voice actor wrote about his cat.

- Brook literally doesn't have a brain. like i know we all know that but its so fucking funny. we make jokes about other strawhats only having one braincell or whatever but Brook straight up 100% just has a seashell where his brain is supposed to be 

-  why does he have rubber glove looking hands when hes haunting the castle at wano i fucking hate them

- relatedly, there’s a bit where Brook mentions he’s been, at kinemon’s interaction, sitting in a well for like... possibly days? is he okay

- honestly i love everything about Brook’s actions as a ghost in wano bc its so fucking funny but my FAVORITE fact is that Brook is in the wikipedia article about starving skeletons

im leaving you with that. appreciate ur local skeleton today

[plaidbooks]

May I PLEASE have a Sonny Carisi x reader fic where they're fake dating?! Thank you in advance my lovely ❤️

Undercover

A/N: What? Two Sonny fics back-to-back? That’s right! I love this trope too damn much, and I was done with the whole “home for the holidays” cliche, so this is different. Also, the second-hand embarrassment in the beginning killed me. Hope you enjoy, Karen, and thanks for the request @the-baby-bookworm <3

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1640

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

You had an arm wrapped around Sonny’s waist, his arm around your shoulders, as you walked through the park. You chuckled lightly, pretending he had said something funny as you both moved closer to the perp you were tailing.

“He’s heading for Alice,” Fin’s voice came through your earpiece. But that was the plan; Alice was the bait to draw out the man who had assaulted her. On a different trail, you saw Amanda stretching in her tracksuit, subtly watching the perp. You and Sonny moved closer, making sure Alice wasn’t in harm’s way, that you could grab this guy if anything happened.

And then, someone cut off your line of sight. “[Y/N]?? Hey! How are you?! And who’s this??” they asked. Your eyes focused, and you panicked; it was your cousin.

“Shhh! Abby, not right now,” you whispered, trying to look to see if the perp had heard any of this exchange. So far, it seemed like you were still in the clear.

“Is this your boyfriend??” she asked, looking Sonny up and down. He grinned nervously, trying to be polite, his eyes still trained on the perp.

Fin’s voice came over your earpiece. “What’s going on? Who is that?”

“Abby, look, this is a really bad time—” you started before she cut you off.

“He’s cute, though! Good job, [Y/N]! You have to bring him over for dinner though!” Abby was gushing, her voice getting louder and louder. The perp turned and looked over at the three of you, and you gave Abby a huge smile, playing the part.

“For sure! I’ll bring Dom over later…tonight work?” you asked, trying to just get rid of her now.

Sonny, sensing your plans, pulled you closer, kissing your temple. “Yeah, I’d love to meet some of your family, babe.”

Abby smiled. “Tonight sounds perfect! 7 o’clock work?”

“Yep! Bye now,” you said, just as the perp started walking down the trail again. You and Sonny pushed by your cousin, keeping on his trail. Sonny quirked an eyebrow at you, but you simply shook your head; you’d explain later.

 ********************

Thankfully, the run-in with your cousin didn’t blow your undercover, and you were able to apprehend the perp. But by the time you caught him, made it back to the precinct, interrogated him, and sent him to processing, you had completely forgotten about the encounter with your cousin in the park.

After filling out the paperwork for the arrest, you made a cup of bad, precinct coffee and downed half of it in one gulp, making Sonny chuckle as he watched.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

He grinned. “I’ve never seen anyone actually drink this sludge, let alone that much.”

You opened your mouth to reply but stopped when your phone chimed with an incoming text. Brow furrowed, you glanced at it, seeing it was from your cousin, Abby, reminding you to come over at 7pm. You let out a groan. “Fuck, I forgot about dinner at my cousin’s place!”

“Oh shit, I did too…have you told her I’m not actually your boyfriend? That we were undercover?” Sonny asked, leaning back in his chair.

You shook your head slightly. “Nah, Abby’s kind of an airhead. I don’t know if she even knows what the word ‘undercover’ means….”

Sonny was silent as he thought this over. “So…” he started. “Are we going undercover at your cousin’s place?”

You swallowed at what he was suggesting, touched that he would do this for you. There was no rescheduling when it came to Abby, no explaining things away. You’d have to go to this dinner, and you’d have to bring Sonny. Even if you did tell her you weren’t dating, she’d still insist you were, tell everyone in the family.

“Even if we did, this means my whole family’s gonna be asking about you,” you murmured, staring at your half-empty coffee.

“And if we blow off this dinner?”

Your cheeks burned. “Then the rumors Abby would spread would be a hundred times worse…and the family would still be asking about you.” You remembered the last time you were late bringing an ex over, and Abby not-so-subtly tugged the collar of your shirt down, looking for hickeys.

Sonny chuckled. “Well, I guess that leaves us no choice, now does it…honey?” He grinned at you, his eyes crinkling in that way they do when he’s amused, and you shot him a playful glare.

“I’ll owe you cannolis for a month,” you promised, and he laughed, shaking your hand, and sealing the deal.

 ******************

You and Sonny stood on the doorstep of Abby’s brownstone, waiting for her to answer the door after you knocked. “Thank you again for this,” you murmured, heart in your throat.

“Of course. We’re partners. I’d take a bullet for ya…or pretend to be your boyfriend for a dinner,” Sonny replied, making you laugh.

“Glad those are on the same level for you,” you rolled your eyes as the door opened.

“[Y/N]! Welcome! And Dom!” Abby greeted, and you furrowed your brow, trying to remember if you really called Sonny be his first name in the park. You normally referred to him by his last name only. Guess you were sticking with Dominick tonight.

Abby moved out of the way, letting you enter her place. “Thanks for having us over,” Sonny said, smiling.

“Nonsense! I’m happy to meet [Y/N]’s…friends,” she gave you a knowing look, and you grimaced. “She’s always so busy with work, I’m amazed she has time to date!” You groaned and Sonny chuckled good-naturedly. “So! How’d you two meet?”

 ***************

Abby’s husband came home soon after you had arrived, their two children with him. Then dinner was served. Abby never stopped asking questions, and to Sonny’s credit, he answered everything thrown at him—mostly about his family and life. He answered truthfully, neither of you really lying, even when asked “couple” questions. When asked how long you’ve been together, you were able to answer how long you were partnered at SVU. Having worked so close for so long, spending many days and nights together, meant you could answer pretty truthfully, even if Abby didn’t get that you weren’t really dating. Your only issue was catching yourself almost calling him Carisi, which only happened a few times, and you quickly corrected yourself. Otherwise, you answered everything perfectly. Except for one question, asked after dinner, when Abby was watching Sonny play with the kids.

“So, any talks about marriage?” she asked, sipping on her glass of wine.

You choked on your own wine, putting the glass down as you coughed. “Ah, no—not yet,” you sputtered.

“Well, you should get on that. I mean, look at him,” she said, gesturing at Sonny. One of the kids, the five-year-old girl, pushed his chest, and he dramatically fell backwards onto the floor, making both kids squeal with laughter.

You grinned at him; it was adorable watching Sonny with the kids. This wasn’t the first time you thought your partner was cute, but it hit…differently this time. Your cheeks burned as you caught yourself starting to feel…no. You stopped the thought right there; you were not falling for him.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied, finishing your wine. “Well, it’s getting late.” You walked over to Sonny, helping him up off the floor. He got up, pulling you close, placing a kiss on your cheek, and your heart stuttered.

“Ready to go home, love?” he asked, nuzzling his nose into your hair, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Yep! Let’s get out of here,” you replied, squeezing him to you before pulling away. “Thanks for dinner, Abs; it was delicious. Nice seeing you, too, Jake.” You hugged them both while Sonny high-fived the children, then said goodbye to Abby and Jake. Placing a hand on your lower back, he led you out into the night, heading towards his truck.

“Thank you again for tonight, Dom,” you said once you were far enough away from Abby’s place.

Sonny grinned at you, and you melted. Fuck, you really were falling for him. “Of course, doll. I had a lot of fun tonight, undercover or not.”

You climbed into the passenger side and Sonny slipped into the driver’s seat. He turned the engine on, but didn’t move to put the truck in drive, instead gripping and regripping the wheel nervously. “Listen, [Y/N]…would you, uh, like to go out for coffee with me sometime or something?” he asked.

You turned to look at him, dumbfounded. “Like…like a-a date?”

Sonny swallowed. “Y-yeah…I mean, if you wanted…. Look, just forget I asked—”

“I’d love to,” you replied, smiling.

He looked at you, eyes wide before he broke into a wide grin. “Okay, great. That’s…that’s great.” You both sat there for what seemed like forever, just grinning at each other like idiots. “Oh! I guess I should take ya home, huh?” Sonny asked, his cheeks going red.

You laughed. “That would be nice, yeah…. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, it has…but a good day.”

“A fantastic day,” you agreed, making his grin grow. You had butterflies in your stomach as you thought about going on a date with Sonny, your heart fluttering. Your heart full on stopped when he parked in front of your apartment, though, pulling you in for a chaste kiss over the center divide of his truck, his face beet-red after he realized what he did.

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Sonny said in a small voice, leaning back in his seat and looking embarrassed.

You smiled, leaning over and kissing his burning cheek. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.” He watched you leave his truck, waiting until you made it through your front door before driving away. You smiled to yourself, thrilled about going out with your partner, excited to wake up in the morning.

[peanutxparker]

A (very long) list of all of my favorite AJJ lyrics because why not

Candy Cigarettes and Cap Guns (2005)

“Well my great grand-dad he died of cancer, from smoking too many cigarettes. But I must confess that he did quite profess to being the coolest motherfucker I ever met.”

“And cocaine is essentially vegan and they don't give a fuck anyway.”

“And I can't help but miss him even though he hit me everyday.”

“So fuck white people! (fuck white people!)”

“Heaven is a special place in hell where you can watch the people you hate get hurt.”

“You find me quite charming and I find it quite alarming ‘cause I'm gonna take your life. You find me quite charming and I find it quite alarming and I'm sad you won't be my wife.”

“What makes you think you can be so pretty? And what makes you think you can be so great? And what makes you think you can be so intelligent? And what makes you think you can be so far away?”

“What makes you think you can be so wonderful? And what makes you think you can be so keen? And what makes me think I can be so hurtful? And what makes me think I can be so mean?”

“Sometimes I feel like a cigarette, I'm wrapped in paper and I'm suffocating to death.”

“I don't want to be a cigarette anymore. I'll go to hell in my self death all day and night, so please just put me out.”

People Who Can Eat People Are The Luckiest People In The World (2007)

“Rejoice despite the fact this world will hurt you. Rejoice despite the fact this world will kill you. Rejoice despite the fact this world will tear you to shreds. Rejoice because you’re trying your best”

“I'm afraid to leave the house. I'm as timid as a mouse. I'm afraid if I go out I'll outwear my welcome. I'm not a courageous man. I don't have any big lasting plans. I'm too cowardly to take a stand, I want to keep my nose clean. And it's sad to know that we're not alone in this and it's sad to know that there's no honest way out. In this life we lead, we could conquer everything if we could just get the brave to get out of bed in the morning.”

“And I give a thank-you to my father for not raising me, and I give a finger to my step-father for beating me, and I give props to myself for achieving, and god damn I’m glad that I survived, and god damn I’m surprised that I survived.”

“So I looked into your eyes and I saw the reflection of a coward you and I both hate very much and then I grabbed the knife and I let the blood out of your throat and I smashed those tiny mirrors inside of your skull.”

“If I don’t go to hell when I die I might go to heaven, might go to heaven. But probably not.”

“Just happy times and half assed rhymes and mimes because mimes are dears, but most of all I want no more tears.”

“No more racism. No more discrimination. No more fat dumb fucks keeping people out of our nation.”

“We’re all one big band across this land and we should sing in tune. Let us grow the balls to break the walls, we’ve got to do it soon.”

“And I hope our candles flicker and die so that our hearts don’t burn to the ground.”

“First we were babies, we're birthing and dying. Then we were children, we're playing and crying. And then we're teenagers and smoking and fucking. But now we're all grown up and we're sadly sighing.”

“And your manic depression, it comes and it goes. Your parasympathetic nervous system reacts and you're in fight or flight mode.”

“How's the world so small when the world is so large? And what made the world? Could I please speak to who's in charge? Everything is real but it's also just as fake. From your daughter's birthday party to your grandmother's wake.”

“I've tried to know which words to sing so many times. I tried to know which chord to play and I tried to make it rhyme. And I tried to find the key that all good songs are in. And I tried to find that notes to make that great, resounding din.”

“There's someone in your head waiting to fucking strangle you.”

“I've got essays, I've got finals due. I have got lots and lots of problems.”

“Welcome to this world, have as much fun as you would like while helping others have as much fun as you're having. Be kind to those you love and be kind to those you don't but for God's sake you gotta be kind.”

Can’t Maintain (2009)

“I wanna pick up the pieces and plant them in the ground. When a tree grows there I want to chop that tree down. Build it into a boat and float it in a lake. And with dynamite I will explode the thing that makes me make mistakes.”

“Sometimes I get so lonesome I can't breathe. Sometimes I get so scared that I can't speak. Sometimes I get so worried I can't hear my heartbeat. Anyway…”

“I wanna tear out my heart and give it away to a person more deserving one day. If all I see is the worst in everything that's all I'm gonna get, that's all I'm gonna get, that's all I'm gonna get.”

“And people freak me out. People make me scared. People make me so damn self-aware.”

“I get bronchitis twice a year at least. My lungs aren't the way they should be. And I smoke more than a mother fuckin chimney. I declare war on my body.”

“You will cough up crows that peck my eyes and I will do nothing but go blind.”

“We could live there together or I'll live alone, less happy but I'll live... unfortunately.”

“And no one will know how I truly feel ‘cause I can no longer differentiate between what is fake and what is real. I don't know how I feel.”

“And I will always appreciate bad days like this because they grant me a point of reference in regards to my happiness.”

“If the bridge that I was driving over collapsed while I was driving over it that may not be such a bad thing. I would finally meet my maker, I could meet the great creator, and I'd punch him for teaching me how to sing.”

“Don't know if I believe in god but sometimes I pray because the way I was raised keeps me afraid.”

“I hope I can forgive me for having the nerve to exist. I hope someone can help me make some sense of this.”

“Sense and sensibility and peaceful productivity, a pretty girl with broken wings is all that I desire. But there's so much hostility in all the things surrounding me. The awful glow of enmity is trying to stop my shine. So I try to look inwardly at all the things inside of me but sodomy and buggery keep bubbling to the top.”

“I met you once over the phone, you sounded sad and you seemed alone. You left me but I never left you. I never had the chance to.”

“If you spend all your heart on something that has died you are not alive and that can't be your life.”

Knife Man (2011)

“There's no one to blame. People are just fucking mean.”

“So if I see a penny on the ground, I leave it alone or fucking flip it. I'm a straight white male in America. I've got all the luck I need.”

“I've got a pile of broken mirrors and I'm walking under ladders and I'll spill a ton of salt because to me that doesn't matter.”

“You were dead by the time that I had found you. Your blood was spilled on the couch where we had first kissed. So I carried you west to the sea so I could wash you. Your body felt just like a back pack.”

“I hate whiny, fucking songs like this but I can't afford a therapist. Sorry guys, here's a solo.”

“Some days I feel like I'm the weakest and others the strongest. These days are the longest and I've got the weirdest feeling about this and I wanna go away for a while.”

“I wish I had a bullet big enough to fucking kill the sun. I'm sick of songs about the summer.”

“When you have no one, you are no one. Like I said, I used to work at the people pound. All these no ones clumped together, just like a human lost and found. If they left them all be someones there wouldn't be enough to go around. It's better for us all us if there are no ones. And I knew a lot of no ones round that time. They used to all be someones until something took their life and all their someones disappeared while they're stuck there waiting in a line. And for them now, no one seems to have the time.”

“They say ambition is an enemy of weakness and greatness is an enemy of fame.When I pick up my guitar and I try to write a song, I think of what my mentor used to say… “Who fucking gives a rat's ass Steve, just write a love song. Cus they'll keep your belly full and your wallet lined. Don't bother these nice people with your sad sack songs. If you ask me I think they're just a waste of time.””

“Inspiration is the best friend of my sorrow and sorrow is the best friend of my drink. Well I want to look myself in the eye tomorrow but I'm too worried of what other folk's will think.”

“And the troubles in my heart need to get let out. And the troubles in my heart need to escape. And I never liked writing poetry and I never liked doing pottery and God knows that I never learned to paint. So every now and then, I'll sing sad songs. Cus it keeps my spirit light and my conscience clean. And if you don't care to hear I don't mind if you go out for some air. Cus I'm happy that you're happier than me.”

“So I wish I had a cigarette for every time a perfect stranger asked me for a cigarette but I wonder what a cigarette will really do to help that person out. I wish to God I had some spare change for every time a perfect stranger asked me for some spare change but there's not enough spare change in the world to make such an empty gesture count.”

“You can hope it gets better and you can follow your dreams but hope is for presidents and dreams are for people who are sleeping.”

“You don't have it any better and you don't have it any worse. You're an irreplaceable human soul with your own understanding of what it means to suffer and that’s a huge bummer.”

“I'm afraid of the way I live my life. I'm afraid of the way I don't. I'm afraid of the things that I want to do but I won't. I'm afraid of God. I'm afraid to believe and I'm afraid of all the loved ones that I've made leave. I'm afraid that my dog doesn't love me anymore. I'm afraid of the social laziness that let Kitty Genovese die. And I'm afraid of the mob mentality that makes otherwise normal people go blind. I'm afraid of the way that the world works and I'm afraid of the words in my notebooks. I'm afraid that you all know that I am a pervert.”

“It's harder to be yourself than it is to be anybody else. I wish I were a little less of a coward but the big red bird that lives under the city doesn't give a damn about me and it dies every night. So I bought a knife. I am a knife.”

Rompilation (2012)

“I used to be a spiderman, I used to be a cowboy from hell, but not anymore. Now I'm just a clam and I live inside this shell inside this shell I am. God damn I hate my brain.”

“I'll dip my brain in medicine so that you can stand to be with me.”

“Give me your tired, give me your tired, give me your poor. When our government acts like this, I wonder what World War II was for and the rest of the country hates us more and more. Lady Liberty is not a whore.”

“This is not a protest, it's a tortoise slowly pushing through a race. I hope the tortoise keeps its patience while the hare continues to pepper-spray its face.”

“There is no enemy, there's only people that also love their families and they're scared that they won't have enough long after they are deceased. But how much money do they need? Love turns into fear, and fear turns into greed. There is no enemy, there's only dummies that also love their families.”

“And this is not a phase, it's just a matter of time, with diligence and peacefulness, you will reach them and you will change their minds. If you stay there long enough, they'll start to see you.”

“And when you pushed my face in shit how could that have made you feel like a man or like a monster. It's your fault that I can't tell the difference.”

“In the evening I try songwriting. I'm self loathing, but I love singing. I'll try escaping these evil feelings but they keep coming, they keep coming…”

“So the baby's gonna have a daddy, that's wonderful news. He won't be the greatest parent but neither will you! Gotta get out while you can, otherwise you're screwed. Your legs are broken and your eyes are black and blue.”

“And smoking is like hiring a hitman for five dollars a day, and as cool as that is, I don't wanna keep dying this way.”

Christmas Island (2014)

“Shoot him again ‘cause I can see his soul dancing.”

“If you give it to me I’ll give it back much harder. If you treat me like a son, then I’ll treat you like a daughter. Everyone has a future, everyone has a soul, everyone has a heart, they have a mind, they have control.”

“The Coffin Dancer dances like he has something the prove because he does. He sleeps a couple hours in the morning, hates the morning when he wakes up.”

“The Coffin Dancer dances like he wants to make a friend, but he does not.”

“Getting naked and playing with guns. There's a gerbil in the microwave, a baseball bat in everyone. Sharing kisses and building a bomb. We'll set it off like Microsoft in '94.”

“McDonald's PlayPlace before the Xbox, cake frosting, sweet talking, bedroom wall, covered in knives, touching God, burning shit. We'll make a wish and take a trip to Future Town like our daddy did.”

“Have you ever wanted to be, have you ever wanted to see someone better in the mirror? Have you ever wanted to go, have you ever wanted to know somewhere greener, somewhere cleaner. I bet you got something beautiful in mind.”

“I can’t handle astounding works of beauty. I think I like my pretty pretty ugly but the beautiful soul I witnessed in that movie was an entirely different kind of overwhelming. It was a dog that won’t stop barking. Like a cut that never stops bleeding. Arizona sunsets in the early evening. Or a grown man inconsolably weeping.”

“I am the Kool-Aid stains on the mouth of a kid whose name is most likely Cody. He had a juice box for breakfast and he carries a stick that he most likely found in the alley. Cody doesn't have friends and his parents hate each other and he wants to find a better way to love his family and after school he hangs out in the abandoned house behind the Arby's.”

The Bible 2 (2016)

“Oh, I love you cause I love you cause I can.”

“On your last night at Saint Mary's you were way too intoxicated to breathe. So I used your ribs as ladders and I climbed up on your chest and I jumped up and down just like a trampoline.”

“Confused and rude. Such a special kind of way to be cruel.”

“If I were one of the things, I'd be american garbage. The most beautiful thing. The most beautiful american garbage you have ever seen.”

“No more shame, no more fear, no more dread.”

“And if you don't want to feel the feeling, no one should ever make you feel the feeling.”

“I thought I saw you before I knew who you were.”

“I just wanted to rage but all I got was tired”

“I showed him all the books that I was raised on. Your Madeleine L'Engle(s) and D'Aulaires' Mythologies.”

“And his eyes became a beacon, an LCD projector, broadcasting all my memories in a clear and vivid picture. His tongue became a staircase, his uvula - The knocker of an ornate wooden door that lead me straight into my future. His throat became a hallway with a thousand baby pictures and I became forgiveness, I transformed into the closure that I lost when I learned about the tragedy of all of us. I lost it when I learned about the tragedy of all of us.”

Good Luck Everybody (2019)

“If you don't give it to them they'll starve to death and that's alright.”

“I've got the normalization blues, this isn't normal, this isn't good.”

“I'm detached and I'm distracted, all keyed up but unproductive, vacillating between being all excited and disgusted and then dozing lackadaisically in this bubble where I've made my mental home. Connection's more important now than it ever was, but I'd rather be alone.”

“And when we talk about the president, we're either pissed off or we're giggling about an atrocity he's committing or some stupid shit he's tweeting. He's a symptom and a weapon of the evil men who really run the show. The ones who melt down human beings into money like a cruel Sorcerer's Stone.”

“This is the golden age of dickotry, probably the last golden age of anything, and the ugliest word in the English language is anthropocene. Good luck, everybody. Good luck.”

“But before that, you'll be a doormat, for every vicious narcissist in the world. Oh how they'll screw you, all up and over, then feed you silence for dessert.”

“I'm sorry that you have to have a body, filled with infection, one hundred scabs singing in unison, eyes and hands, sometimes bullets, uninvited, passing through us.”

“Oh to be awake for such a shitty dream. A bullet in the head of every decent thing.”

“The lake of dead black children that America created is getting fuller than the founding Fathers even wanted. The ghost of great America was underestimated and now it rages like a cold sore on the lip of this dumb nation. Again we've slipped inside a pit of absolute despair. That's where we live.”

“Rewarding our worst cruelty, they destroyed our shared reality, and now they upsell us our dignity like some fucked VIP package.”

“There is no absolute, these days there's no such thing as truth and you don't need to be a dick about it.”

“I'm a burnout and a fool, oblivious to all I do. I move my lips when I read and breathe with my mouth open, wide open. Timid, meek, and cruel, this is the best that I can do. I need to speak my truth, yet here I'm broken wide, wide open. My resentment, big and strong, and all the things that I can't change. They'll buckle me beneath the weight. I will drive myself insane with all the things that I can't change. I hate all the things that I can't change.”

“You're a loudmouth and a tool, and as it turns out I am too, and you don't need to be a dick about it.”

“Because I know that you know what I need more than me and I know that you need me more than that.”

“For all the pussies you grab and the children you lock up in prison, for all the rights you roll back and your constant stream of racism, for all the poison you drip in my ear, for all your ugly American fear. I wrote you this beautiful song called Psychic Warfare.”

“I hate you with all of my heart. I hate you with all of my art.”

“I went back to the desert, little Midwest in me, and now I am colder than I used to be. I live in a fortress the shape of my body, and now there's a coldness, and it's shaped like me. Now I don't suffer any more bullshit gladly. Even though everything's bullshit now, here in 2019 and you can bet it's gonna be a bunch of bullshit too out in sweet 2020 or whenever this album's released.”

[burningember0802]

Someone Like Me

summary : first, once again, i suck at summaries. Kaz meets a friend of Nina’s that he didn’t know about who is more like him than anyone else he’s ever met and that scares him more than he’d like.

It's a relaxing evening at the slat, or at least as much as it can be in Ketterdam. All the crows were sitting around a table talking and having a great night, even Kaz. He won't show it but he enjoys nights like this more than he'd like to admit. Nina and Jesper were laughing and talking about who knows what while Matthais sat with a loving smile on his face, Wylan and Inej sat talking about his newest tests, and Kaz sat just listening and watching, enjoying the time with his friends; his family. "Oh, Kaz! My friend is supposed to stop by tonight and drop off some things I asked her for so don't be surprised if we get a knock soon." Nina mentions. "You have friends?" He sarcastically said. "For a matter of fact, I do. She's amazing, I think you should meet her. She'd be a great addition to the crows. She's a fabrickator, both a Durast and an Alkemi. She is also the smartest person I've ever met, and the best fighter too. I've watched her and Matthais spar and she took him down in seconds easily. She's insanely good, Kaz. She'd be a great asset to the team. I think you'd like her too, she has similar interests among other stuff." She explains. Kaz thought for a moment before responding. "We'll see if I agree with you once I meet her." Nina thanks him with a smile and goes back to her conversation.

Kaz wasn't sure how he felt about the thought of bringing someone else onto the team. It was another person who could betray him, another person he could get attached to, another weakness. Not just anyone can join the crows, they had to earn it.

About half an hour later there was a knock at the slat door. Nina excitedly hopped up to get it. "It's her!" The heartrender almost squealed. The door opened to a girl, probably about 5'6 who has (H/L), (H/C) hair. She was gorgeous with a button nose that supported her thin-rimmed glasses, full lips, striking (E/C) eyes, and a curvy figure. She was wearing a tight green turtle neck, black pants, boots, and carrying a satchel on her shoulder. Kaz swears he almost felt himself stop breathing. The feeling he got when he saw her, despite not knowing her, scared him in a way he didn't like. He decided to push it down and continue on with the night.

Nina invited the girl inside with a smile that was returned by her. The girls walked back to the table where the rest of the group sat. "Y/N, the crows, the crows, Y/N." She introduced them all. Multiple greetings were heard around the table from everyone except Kaz of course. Y/N shyly waved with a soft smile. "I brought those things you asked about," Y/N said quickly changing the subject. She opened her bag and pulled out 3 boxes and set them on the table. She opened the first one which held a seemingly normal knife. "Here's the knife you asked about with the poison injection abilities. There are three vials in the box and there's one in the handle already. It injects a few drops upon impact, it’s potent so it will kill someone with just a few drops." Y/N said showing how to open the handle and where the vial was. She proceeded to open the next box that was full of bullets. "These are the bullets that explode upon impact you asked about." She said before setting them back down. You could see Inej eyeing up the knife and Jesper doing the same to the bullets. She finally opened the last box which revealed 7 sets of earpieces. "These are the earpieces, they have microphones in them to communicate from long distances." She almost mumbled, obviously nervous around all the people. Kaz had been watching the girl in shock the whole time she spoke. Nina didn't lie, she was insanely talented and would be a good asset.

"You're the best Y/N!" Nina exclaimed, making a quick movement to go to hug the girl. She quickly stopped when Y/N flinched slightly. No one else besides Y/N, Nina, and Kaz had realized it with everyone else too busy looking at the new gear. "Shit, fuck I'm sorry Y/N it was a mistake." Nina started apologizing profusely. "Nina, it's fine. Mistakes happen. I'm just a freak anyway." She said quietly. Kaz felt his heart clench at that. She was like him, she was anything but a freak though. "Anyway, I should probably get going." She said, staring at her feet. "You should stay for a while, meet everyone." Nina tried to convince her. Y/N was obviously apprehensive. "You should stay," Kaz said before he could stop himself. Both Nina and Y/N turned towards him quickly. Nina had a shocked look on her face, surprised that Dirtyhands would ever suggest that he wanted someone to stay. She thought for a second and smiled slightly and nodded.

The girl sat down at the last empty chair at the table, which happened to be next to Kaz. She immediately pulled into herself out of habit, bringing on her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around it, making herself as small as possible. Jesper and Inej immediately started asking questions about their new tools to which Y/N answered gladly. Kaz watched them contently, especially Y/N. She looked really happy talking about what she loved. Soon the conversations turned away from solely her after the crows had their fill of integrating. "Kaz, Y/N is the most knowledgeable person I've met about books, you guys have that in common," Nina mentions. Y/N glances at him with a soft smile. Everything about her made Kaz's fight or flight kick in. She was weirdly comforting but at the same time kicked on every instinct he had. He felt the need to run but also never move again. "What's your favorite genre of books?" Y/N asked the boy. Kaz missed having someone to talk to about interests like this, the rest of the crows weren't into things like this. Trying to make him comfortable she answers first. "I tend to read realistic fiction or fantasy." Kaz studied her face constantly looking for any signs that she wasn't genuine. "I like fantasy or mystery books." He answers. She gets a huge smile. He liked that, she had a genuine smile, that's rare in the barrel. Her smile was slightly lopsided and full of joy. "Mysteries are the best, I'm always on the edge of my seat. Sometimes I feel like I can't put the book down even when I have stuff to get done." She laughs. Kaz almost felt himself smirk. "Those are the best ones." He answers genuinely. "I just finished this amazing book, it's about the story of Achilles but from the point of view of Patroclus. It's called the song of Achilles and it's amazing." She says with a smile. "I'll have to borrow it sometime." He says. At that moment the two of them weren't even paying attention to the crows around them anymore, so they didn't see the knowing look from Nina.

The group all continued to talk and have a good time. Everyone liked Y/N a lot. Nina was accurate in her description of her. She was super smart and sweet. At one point they were talking about combat strategies and she was asked "What's the quickest way to win a fight?" by Jesper. Matthias let out a loud snort at that question, knowing the brunette's skills. "Are we talking immobilizing or killing? Those are two different answers." She says with a smirk. The girl had come out of her shell within the past hour and had grown more comfortable around the group. "Both?" Jesper said, confused. "For immobilization, the quickest way is to slice their Achilles tendon on the back of their ankle, if you do that they're not moving. Also, you always go for the eyes, nose, and groin, and if you use the bottom of the palm of your hand you can shatter someone's nose since that's the strongest part of your hand. Besides the Achilles tendon, the other easiest way if you know how to do it is there's a nerve on the side of your neck that if you squeeze right, knocks them out. Then if the purpose is killing you go for the neck, wrist, or thigh because that's where your main arteries are." She said matter of factly. Kaz almost laughed at how the girl said it.

That was the start of it all. Shortly after this first meeting Y/N started coming around more and more and everyone loved her, including Kaz. Kaz had started having more than friendly feelings towards her a couple months after meeting. The crows were eventually able to convince her to join so she was now living at the slat, making Kaz’s life a living hell. He felt like his heart was beating out of his chest constantly, and he knew that Nina knew this too with her heartrender skills. Nina was constantly giving him knowing looks and all he did was glare back at her. Kaz was drawn to her like no one else.

The two of them had become close over the last year, closer than most. They would often sit and talk for hours, a lot of times about books or anything else that came to their minds. Y/N was often like lightning in a bottle, constantly moving and going a million miles an hour. She seemed hyper and impulsive on the outside but Kaz knew she was very strategic and methodical. She was insanely smart, which she often used to her advantage to beat Kaz in chess to his dismay. Both parties had developed feelings for each other but both were too scared to tell the other because they’re idiots but the universe was going to find a way to get them together.

The heist the crows had tonight was insanely important. The group was supposed to go to a merchant party because while the merchant and everyone else was distracted they were going to steal a necklace that was held in the wife’s vanity room. The necklace was worth an insane amount of money so the crows took the task right away.

The only problem with the heist was that Y/N and Kaz had to be the two who had to fake being a couple at the party to keep the merchant distracted so the others could get the necklace. “We have to do what?” Y/N exclaimed when she found out her role. She felt her chest clench at the thought of being around that many people. “I need Inej on the roofs, Jesper on the ground as backup, Wylan as a waiter ready to cause a distraction if need be, and Nina and Mattaius getting the necklace so we’re the only two left.” Kaz grumbles, obviously not happy about the situation either. Both of them sucked it up for the money.

The night of the heist Y/N was the last to be ready since she had to wear a dress and makeup. She stepped down the stairs to where the crows were waiting. As soon as she stepped into the room there were joking whistles and screams from all the crows except Kaz. Kaz stood there in shock, his breath taken away. Emma was wearing a black dress with stars on it, a simple pair of black heels, several pieces of silver moon and star jewelry and finally topping it off with a few moon and star hair pins pinning back some of her hair. She looked gorgeous.

As they got closer and closer to the party both Y/N and Kaz became increasingly more nervous. “We don’t have to touch.” She says breaking the silence between them as they were dragging behind the group. “We have to and we both know it. If we don’t touch like a couple they’ll become suspicious. I know neither of us like touch but we’ll have to deal with it.” Kaz quickly responds, his voice rigid. She just nodded, not wanting to make this night worse.

Everyone got in their positions as soon as they made it to the house, leaving Kaz and Y/N near the entrance. Kaz hesitantly grabs her hand; he was shocked when he did. He didn’t panic as much as he thought. Kaz’s aversion was worse than Y/N’s for sure since hers was mainly quick movements and things related to abuse but Kaz’s was any kind of touch. All he felt was Jordie when he touched anyone, the stench of the air, the cold water around him, the stiff body he was clenching on to. He didn’t immediately drown touching her though, he felt the waters come up but they stopped, going no further.

As the two of them continued through the night the touches became easier and more frequent, it almost felt...real. Both of them deep inside wished it was. They wished the other loved them back. The two of them got many compliments throughout the night on how cute they were and questions about how they met among other things. The way Kaz would wrap his arm around her waist made her heart stop, the way Y/N put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him did the same to Kaz.

Once Nina and Mattaius got the necklace everyone made their way back to the slat. Everyone was happy and ready to celebrate a successful heist except for Kaz and Y/N. They had a tension that wouldn’t go away. Both knew they’d have to talk about it or it’d ruin further heists but neither wanted to make the first move. So once they got to the slat both of them lingered at the door after everyone else. “Can-” “We should-” they both went to say at the same time. They couldn’t help but laugh at how in tune they were. “We need to talk about things.” Y/N says. “I know.” Kaz says, anxiety in his voice. “I like you Kaz.” the girl states plainly, shocking the bastard of the barrel. He couldn’t say the words he wanted to but he had to say something. “Yes.” was all he could manage out. It would sound stupid to anyone else but to Y/N and Kaz they both knew what that meant. “I can never touch you like you might want though.” He says anxiously. “Kaz, I have just as much of an issue with touch as you. Physical affection isn’t something I need in a relationship. If we really want to, we can work on our aversions together.” She answers with a comforting smile. Kaz nods,knowing she's right. “So together?” Kaz questions, trying to confirm that she is his and he is hers. She nods with a smile.

That was the start of it all. The start of the King and Queen of Ketterdam, taking it over together.

[visander]

A Losing Game (6/6).

It all ends. 

You can read this chapter on ao3 here. The wonderful art featured below was done by @thelightofthebane​ and by beta for this event was @bamf-alec​​.

Chapter Six:

Part of Magnus expected they’d walk inside to find a deceptively empty warehouse moments before they’d be ambushed. Yet when they went inside, Camille was just standing there, waiting for them. Magnus hadn’t seen her in person in so long, but she hadn’t aged a day since he’d last seen her. Sure, it had only been a few years, but Camille was older than him.

Shouldn’t she look older now? But no, standing before him she looked like she always had. She was beautiful and alluring. She looked nothing like the poison that Magnus knew twisted within her. She smiled and all he saw were teeth. How had he not seen how fake that was all those years ago? How had he ever looked at her and thought that she was kind and smart?

Camille was flanked by people, but Magnus hardly even looked at them. They’d known they were outnumbered. He didn’t need to take inventory here to verify that, but there was a twist of movement in the background that had his eyes narrowing instantly. 

It was Simon, though he didn’t recognize him at first. His hands were tied behind his back and someone was holding him there with a minimal amount of effort as Simon struggled feebly. His face was covered in blood. He wasn’t terribly hurt, but his nose was obviously broken and it seemed it had bled for a while before stopping. It was hard to tell if he was hurt otherwise. It looked like he had a bruise across his left cheek, but even that was hard to verify the severity of from this far away and with so much blood.

Regardless, he was struggling and it didn’t look as if he’d been shot or stabbed or had his legs broken or any number of the horrible things Magnus was sure Raphael and he both had been imagining on the way here. Simon was alive and right now, he wasn’t dying. That meant they weren’t too late. 

Magnus’ eyes darted back to Camille as she opened her mouth. Her words were smooth and calming. They didn’t match the situation at hand at all. Once, that had calmed Magnus. Once, she’d made him think everything was under control when he really should have been running far away. Now, Magnus knew better, but it was too late to be running from anything. 

“Magnus, Raphael—” Camille’s eyes flickered over them as she spoke before finally landing on Alec with apt interest. She seemed very interested in the fact that Alec was holding a gun in his hands.  She took a few steps forward towards him, as if the weapon hardly even mattered.

Rationally, Magnus supposed it didn’t. They’d all be shot the moment she said the words. Who cared if one of them managed to shoot a bullet off in return? The odds of it landing before they were dead was slim. 

“Alexander,” Camille murmured. Her eyes glistened and Magnus’ spine straightened instantly. 

He realized all at once that he should not have brought Alec with him. It didn’t matter what Camille said. He and Raphael should have come alone and tried to grab Simon by themselves. Magnus had just been thinking that one more person had to help them. Alec knew how to shoot a gun. Alec knew how to protect himself. He was an asset and Camille wouldn’t shoot them for bringing him, like she’d asked. 

But Camille had wanted him to come for a reason and it wasn’t because he’d make it harder for her. Magnus’ eyes darted over to Alec and he felt a slow sinking horror in his stomach. Why the fuck hadn’t he told Alec to stay home? Why hadn’t he sent Alec somewhere, anywhere else? Alec could have gone to the police. He’d have been safe there, regardless of what happened here.

Magnus knew by one look at the expression on Camille’s face as she looked at Alec that Alec wasn’t safe here. She’d wanted Magnus to bring him and he had, without thinking, but he didn’t have time to regret it. Alec was here. He couldn't send Alec away now. Camille would have him shot before he even reached the door. 

He wasn’t sure if Raphael thought the same. He didn’t think so. Raphael was thinking about one thing and that was getting Simon away and back to safety. He wouldn’t have cared if they were walking into their certain death. For Simon, there would have been no other option.

Magnus had thought so too, but standing here now, he realized he did have another option. He had a lot of other options and instead of doing anything of them, he’d landed the three of them here, standing before Camille exactly where she wanted them.

For the first time, Magnus had the feeling that so much more was going on here than he’d realized. How had Alec just so happened to be hired by Camille that night? How had Alec just happened to be working, when Camille probably knew they’d hit the place? Why had Camille waited so long to do this, when he was realizing she could have put an end to them whenever she wanted?

They’d thought they were so smart. They’d thought they had her outplayed the whole time. They’d thought that this was their game, their revenge, but he was realizing all at once that they’d never had any control over any of this. Camille had just let them think they did. 

“Give him to me,” Raphael snapped. Apparently, they were skipping any warm greetings. 

Camille’s eyes slid over to Raphael. She gazed at him evenly, a vague look of distaste on her face. “Why?” she asked finally. She sounded bored. 

Raphael started forward like he was going to push past her and to Simon who was still so far away. Someone stepped out, blocking Raphael’s path. Magnus had a terrifying moment of thinking that Raphael was going to try to push past them anyway, but at the last moment he stilled. His eyes didn’t leave Simon’s for a second. 

Magnus dared a glance over. Simon looked terrified. At least Alec knew how to handle a gun and keep the fear Magnus was sure he was feeling off his face. Simon knew nothing. Simon was just a happy, bubbly kid who didn’t deserve to be caught up in any of this. 

This was Raphael’s biggest fear. This had always been Raphael’s biggest fear. He’d always been so okay with dying, but he’d done everything he could to keep Simon safe. The only thing he’d ever wanted to do was keep Simon safe and now, they were here and Simon had a gun point at his head, ready to shoot him if Camille felt so inclined. 

Raphael’s jaw tightened. “What do you want?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from Simon long enough to look over to Camille again, who stood regarding the entire situation as if it were an amusing sitcom playing out in front of her. 

Magnus wasn’t sure if that was better than her being bored. At the very least, if she was amused, she wouldn’t kill them. 

Camille seemed to ponder the question for a moment. “Well, what do you have?” she asked finally. She cocked her head and it was obvious it was a rhetorical question. They had nothing for her. Nothing at all. They had nothing she wanted and nothing she needed. In fact, they’d gone out of their way to become a huge pain in her ass. The biggest thing she could need would be them dead and Magnus was more than aware of it.

“You kill my people, you ruin my stuff, you walk around tarnishing my name all across the city to anyone who will listen to you.”

Magnus remembered vividly every moment in which they’d done just that. Killing the people Camille hired at the warehouse that night was just the most recent plot they’d enacted to make her life a little harder, but they’d been doing it for years. They took every chance they could to fuck things up for her. 

It was all a game. Even they’d known it. Camille kept herself well protected and it was all a game to piss her off until they could finally put a bullet in her head. They’d never considered what would happen if she got sick of them before that. They’d never thought they’d be in a position to have to consider anything Camille might think. 

“What can you really offer me now?” she pondered. “A promise you’ll leave me alone? Well, that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? And you’d never keep to it.”

Magnus opened his mouth. “We have money. You can take it. Anything we ever took from you, you can have it back.” 

Camille’s eyes darted to him. She didn’t need money. She didn’t need her stuff back and they all knew it. “What did you think was going to happen?” she asked curiously. She ignored his offer entirely. “Did you think you had the upper hand? Did you think I didn’t stop you because I couldn’t?” 

There was silence after she spoke and that was enough of an answer for all of them. 

“You were always such a stupid kid, Magnus. I thought you’d outgrow it. Apparently, I was wrong.” Camille’s eyes darted over to Alec. “I hired him on purpose, did you know that?” Her eyes flickered back over to Magnus. “You knew to hit that place because I wanted you to know. I hired him and I put him there that night, just to see what you’d do. I was curious if you’d shoot him like you did the rest of his little friends. What crime did those people commit to deserve death, Magnus? Unknowingly being hired by a monster to do their job? That was enough for you to condemn them all to death, just to slightly inconvenience me?”

Camille’s eyes flickered over to Alec again. No one spoke. Even Simon had stopped struggling. “But it wasn’t enough for you to shoot him. You do realize how hypocritical that is, don’t you, Magnus? You hate me for killing your friend, so you murder innocent people to get back at me.” 

“You murder innocent people everyday,” Magnus snapped suddenly. It didn’t matter if she was right. Who was Camille to talk to him about any kind of wrong doing he’d ever partaken in? She’d done worse than him for far longer. 

Camille hardly blinked. “I do. We’d have worked well together, if you hadn’t gotten so upset when your friend died. Ragnor, was it? I bet you blame me for that too, but you’re the one who brought him to me. What were you expecting to happen?”

Magnus bristled at the reminder and his stomach twisted. He spat,“You shot him for no reason. He didn’t do anything.” 

Camille hummed softly. “I killed your friend because I was curious what you’d do,” she said after a long moment of silence.

She continued, “You used to pride yourself on your outstanding moral compass. You didn’t want to hurt anyone. You wanted to help people, but all it took for that to change was for me to shoot your friend. Do you know what a good person would have done in that situation, Magnus?” Camille paused for just a moment, but no one opened their mouth to speak. “A good person would have gone to the police. A good person would have pled their case, even knowing they’d be charged with a crime they didn’t commit. A good person would not have killed dozens of innocent people, just to get back at one person. It didn’t matter how many people you killed that were vaguely connected to me. You were never going to bring Ragnor back to life and a good person would have known that.”

“So, where does that leave us now?” Camille asked. She turned, surveying the room casually before her eyes returned to Magnus. “I let you play your game for a while. I was curious how far you’d go, but you thought you were so close. You thought it was just a matter of time before you’d kill me and win. What would you have done after?” she questioned curiously.

Magnus didn’t answer. He knew what he would have done after. He’d have stopped. He’d have stayed with Alec. Maybe, they’d have moved somewhere out of the country, where Magnus wouldn’t have to pretend he’d died. But there was always a chance that that was all just a fantasy. Maybe, they would have stayed in New York and Magnus would have never stopped. He knew better than anyone that there would always be one more thing to help Raphael with. There would always be one more hit, one more incident demanding his attention. 

Maybe a year down the line Alec would beg him to stop and Magnus wouldn’t listen. There was a lot that could have happened and a lot of ways his fantasy of living a perfect life with Alec probably would have gone wrong.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Camille concluded finally. “This was fun for a while and now it’s not anymore. Now, you’ve started to become a major pain in my ass and that will not do.”

Camille turned and gestured behind her. The man holding Simon shoved him suddenly. Simon staggered a few feet before falling to his knees. His hands were still tied behind him, so he almost face planted the ground as he fell. 

No one even had a chance to move. No one had a chance to say anything. Simon didn’t even have time to react. One moment, he was fine and in the next, the man that was holding Simon in place lifted his gun. He held it steadily for just a moment before he pulled the trigger without hesitation. 

Simon fell to the ground in a mess of blood. His dark, curly hair covered his face and Magnus was thankful for it. Raphael didn’t need to see his face, not like that. 

Magnus knew instantly that Simon was dead. The bullet had gone in the back of his skull and out the other side. There was no chance he’d survived and when he laid against the ground and didn’t even take in a final, shuddering breath, Magnus looked away.

At least he’d died quickly. He had seen so many that hadn’t. 

No one reacted but Raphael. In the back of Raphael’s throat, he heard a soft choking noise. The gun he was holding clattered to the ground uselessly and Raphael was on his knees before anyone could move, pulling Simon up and into his lap. 

Simon’s head fell to the side. His dirty, bloody hair fell away. His face wasn’t even in one piece anymore, but Raphael pressed his hand to it anyway, as if he could push Simon back together and force all the blood to go back inside him.

Magnus wished Raphael hadn’t moved. He wished Raphael had stood there and made himself not react. This was what Camille wanted. This is what she enjoyed, but Magnus also knew that Raphael was kneeling, holding his entire world in his now bloodied hands. 

He knew what that felt like. He remembered kneeling, holding Ragnor in his arms as he took his last few pained breaths. Ragnor had died quickly, but when he’d hit the ground he’d still been alive and in those moments between Magnus grabbing him and him dying, the world had seemed to halt.

Magnus could have held him for just a few seconds. It could have been an hour. To this day, he wasn’t sure. The only thing he remembered was brushing back Ragnor’s hair, pressing his hand over the wound in his neck and yelling for Camille to call someone for help.

He wasn’t sure why he’d done that. It should have been obvious that Camille would do no such thing. She was the one who’d shot him. Of course she wasn’t going to call anyone to help. All she’d done was stand there and watch, her face entirely blank, emotionless. 

Camille did not look emotionless now. Now, she looked delighted.

Magnus dared a glance over to Alec and saw that he’d turned completely white. His eyes were locked on Simon and one might think Alec was unaffected, if it weren’t for the horror in his eyes that gave him away. He looked like he might throw up.

Alec had never seen anyone die before. Alec had never had to watch something like this. He gripped his gun tight enough that his knuckles had turned as white as his face and Magnus wondered for the first time if he’d be able to shoot that gun, if he needed to. Being trained on how to use it was very different from firing it at someone and knowing you were ending their life.

Magnus still remembered how horrified he’d been the first time he’d seen Camille shoot someone. He remembered how horrified he’d been when Camille had made him shoot someone for the first time. He remembered thinking he’d never do it again, but how many more had come after and how quickly had he gotten used to it? Camille was right. Watching Ragnor die had changed everything for him. After that, he was no longer the horrified kid who couldn’t stomach the thought of someone dying because of him. After that, he didn't care anymore.

Nothing else had mattered. The world thought he was a murderer and then, dead. Ragnor was dead. Alec was gone. Magnus was a shapeless, nameless ghost. He’d felt, and still did, that his actions had no consequences. How could they when no matter what, the two best things in Magnus’ life were gone? It was only them and Camille. Everyone else meant nothing. They were just pawns in a game they’d never agreed to play.

Alec was just a pawn in a game he’d never agreed to play and Magnus knew he was going to die for it, just like Simon had. 

“I’ll work for you,” Magnus murmured softly. If he expected some reaction from Raphael at the blasphemy of his words, he received none. He knew that Raphael no longer cared. If Raphael didn’t die here, he would soon. There was not a place in the world for Raphael Santiago here if Simon wasn’t at his side. Maybe, if they survived, he’d make it through the funeral. Maybe after, he’d shoot himself or let someone else do the job.

Magnus wasn’t sure, but he did know that Simon wasn’t coming back to life and Raphael was as good as dead. His offer was not for Raphael. His offer was for Alec and she knew it. 

“Just don’t kill him. Please, Camille,” he begged.

Camille turned to him slowly. She raised an eyebrow and appeared to think about it for a moment, but Magnus knew she’d already made up her mind. She’d known Magnus would offer. She’d known he’d do anything to save Alec and the only thing he had to offer was himself.

“And what, he goes back to his life? He pretends to have amnesia about what happened to him over the past few weeks?” Camille paused, taking a moment to eye Alec holding the gun. “Or were you hoping I’d take him too? Take you both back into my flock after you’ve gone out of your way to mess things up for me so badly?” 

Magnus didn’t answer. He didn’t have an answer. Yes. Yes to all of it. As long as she didn’t kill Alec, he didn’t care. He and Alec would figure it out. Alec knew how to use a weapon. He could hold his own, if Camille would accept him. Anything would be better than Alec dying here because of him. Anything would be better than him dying exactly like Ragnor had, like Simon had. 

“You know I can’t do that,” Camille murmured. Her words were soft and deceptively kind. Magnus felt his resolve break at them. He was so stupid. He should have never taken Alec to begin with. There were so many things he could have done instead. He could have left Alec here the day they’d killed everyone. Alec could have made up a story. He could have been a lucky survivor. Magnus could have shot him too. That would have been kinder than all of this. That would have been kinder than torturing him by making him stay, torturing them both by making them think that they had even an ounce of a chance of making it together. 

The day Ragnor died, Magnus had died too. It was just a matter of time before Camille took him out and he was only ever alive because she allowed it. Thinking they could beat her was a fantasy. Thinking there was any place in this world for him and Alec to be happy was just a fantasy.

Magnus should have shot him that day and been done with it, but Alec had always been the one thing that he made stupid decisions for. He was about to make another one of those right now. 

He raised his gun. It was loaded. The safety was off and before anyone could react, he fired. A moment later, the world dissolved into chaos. He wasn’t even sure if he hit her, but he didn’t get to fire again because the gun was ripped out of his hands. There were arms grabbing him and before Magnus knew it, he’d been hit across the face with a rifle. 

There was blood running down Magnus’ forehead but he hardly even felt it. The world went fuzzy around the edges and before he knew it, he was on his knees with his arms locked behind his back. There were two men standing on either side of him. There was a gun pressed against the back of his head. 

He was sure that the same treatment was happening to Alec, but he couldn’t look over to see him. His view was blocked. He had just a moment to wonder what Camille was going to do about Raphael when another gun went off.

He didn’t even know who shot it. He didn’t see if it was Camille or someone she’d signaled to, but the moment he heard the noise, he knew what happened even before he watched Raphael drop to the ground. He’d been clutching Simon’s body close, like he could protect him, but Simon was already dead and as Raphael fell forward, Magnus could see that he was as well.

Camille didn’t care about Raphael. That wasn’t who she was here for. That wasn’t who she was having fun with. She shot him exactly like she’d shot Simon, exactly like she’d shot Ragnor so long ago — as if they were nothing, as if they’d never mattered at all.

Magnus’ eyes found Camille again. She had a hand over her arm. There was blood gushing out and it took him a moment to even realize that he had shot her. He’d been trying to shoot her in the head or even the chest but he’d failed on both accounts. He couldn’t help but let a laugh bubble from his lips.

He’d shot her in the arm. The arm. Magnus knew with that one mistake that he’d just sealed his and Alec’s deaths. Camille looked up at him and cocked her head, a phantom smile flickering across her face. Blood was gushing out of her and streaming down her arm to the floor that Magnus had splattered with his own blood not too long ago. 

It was almost poetic. Everything in his life had come full circle, until he landed here. How many people had he done this to? How many people had he held down and then shot without a moment of consideration? 

Magnus hated her so much. Some deep part of him would always blame her for everything. If he had never met her, if he’d never started working for her, if she’d never killed Ragnor, everything would be different. Magnus would be different. He’d have been a different person, one who cared about what was just and right, one who protected people. He’d have been a good person. All he’d ever wanted in life was to be a good person. How had he failed so miserably? 

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” Camille murmured. Magnus saw those pretty lips that had once leaned in to kiss him just before someone was moving towards him and kicking him in the face. 

Magnus choked on a noise in the back of his throat, but he couldn’t even cry out. He felt his teeth shatter on a steel toed leather boot and when he bent over, sagging in the arms holding him up, he watched beyond his bleary eyes as chunks of white fell to the dirty floor, splattered with his blood. 

When Magnus’ ears stopped ringing, he could hear Alec talking. He couldn’t even hear what he was saying, but he wanted to snap at him regardless. Shut up, Alec. Shut up, shut up - then he heard what Alec was actually saying and his entire heart sank. Shut up, Alec, but Magnus’ lip was swollen and bleeding. He was pretty sure he’d managed to bite his tongue and even if he tried to speak, he didn’t imagine it would be very intelligible. 

“Please, don’t hurt him,” he heard Alec beg. His voice broke and Magnus could hear the pure desperation in it. Alec didn’t understand though. He knew Camille, but he’d never known her like Magnus had. He didn’t understand that Camille would have no sympathy. She wanted Alec to beg. She liked it. She’d use it to her advantage and she most certainly wouldn't stop just because Alec wanted her to. 

Camille motioned with her hand and Magnus didn’t have another moment to prepare himself before he was being kicked in the face again and then again.

Magnus had been hurt before. Fuck, he’d been tied up and hurt before he’d never been hurt like this - with such a ruthless abandon that it was obvious no one cared if he lived or died because of Camille’s punishment. 

People had used him as leverage before. They’d needed him alive. 

Camille didn't need anything from him and it was obvious. In that moment, everything hurt so bad that he felt something in him break. He could think of nothing beyond the pain of it all. He could think of nothing besides wanting it to stop, needing it to stop, and knowing that it wouldn’t.

Alec was screaming. Magnus could hear him struggling and yelling as loud as he could, begging Camille to stop, telling her to hurt him instead, telling her to leave him alone, please.

At some point, he was sure they’d stopped kicking him in favor of punching him. His eyes were so swollen that he could barely see, but he knew it was the case because he felt the hands grabbing him by the shirt to yank him upwards just to drop him again when a fist connected with his face. 

Eventually, they threw him to the ground. He landed on his hands, watching blood fall from his face to the dirty concrete floor which he could hardly see. He heard Camille’s heels clicking on the ground as she walked and when he forced his eyes up, he saw her approaching Alec, who was still being held in place on his knees.

There wasn’t a hair out of place on his head, but Magnus didn’t imagine that would remain true for very long. He felt the panic rise inside him. He wanted to stumble to his feet. He wanted to rush at Camille and do anything to keep her eyes on him and away from Alec. 

Magnus’ hand twitched. His gun was still on the ground where it had been thrown. If he could just reach it…

He dove for it suddenly, but only made it a few inches before there was a boot crushing down on his hand, grinding it into the concrete. He heard the sickening snap of his knuckles and the delicate little finger bones in his hand breaking before he even felt the pain of it.

Magnus had known he wouldn’t get the gun. They’d left it there just out of his reach to see if he’d try. He should have known better, but for Alec’s sake he’d tried anyway. He’d have let them break every bone in his body if it might mean he’d have even the slimmest chance at saving Alec.

When Camille crouched before Alec, she had a look on her face like she’d come across something spectacular. Magnus wished he could punch that look right off her, but his punching hand was broken and he’d never been very good with his right hand anyway.

“Did you know that I wanted Magnus to take you home?” Camille asked softly. “If he hadn’t, I’d probably have let this go on for so much longer. I might have even let him live. All he had to do was send you away or kill you and none of this would have happened, but he took you, just like I knew he would. How could I pass up this opportunity after that?”

Camille reached out and her dark finger trailed across Alec’s cheek. He flinched away from the touch, but the arms holding him didn’t let him move far. “This was so much more fun than just killing them. Magnus is so stupid for the people he loves. I knew this would be interesting.” 

Alec stared warily and terrified. He didn’t seem to be taking in any of Camille’s monologue because after a moment, Alec spoke. “My family has money,” he said softly. Magnus could hear the fear in his voice even though he could barely see him. It was a reasonable offer. Alec’s family did have money, a lot of it, but Camille had no use for Alec’s money. She had more than enough of her own and even if she didn’t, Magnus was sure she’d much rather enjoy killing them than get anything tangible out of it.

“I don’t need your money, Alexander,” Camile cooed. She almost sounded kind when she spoke to him, like she was speaking to a small child who didn’t yet understand the circumstances they’d found themself in. Magnus was an adult to be kicked swiftly. Alec was merely a child to her, someone caught up in all of this who didn’t exactly deserve it, but who would die anyway.

Camille reached out with one hand and pressed it gently across his cheek. She touched him tenderly and Alec froze at the touch, staring with desperate eyes. He didn’t know what was happening. He still thought there was a chance they’d be okay. He thought this show of kindness from Camille might mean something different for them. He didn’t understand her. He didn’t understand that Camille had known what she’d do to them the moment they walked inside.

Camille’s hand dropped from Alec as she rose to her feet. She turned away from him and Magnus knew in that moment that she was done with him. He knew the second she turned away what was about to happen. Magnus lunged forward before she could even speak, but he was shoved back down into place before he made it anywhere. A noise came from Magnus’ throat, desperate and keening. 

He needed to stop her. He needed to do something. “Camille,” Magnus spoke desperately, his voice rising with panic.

Camille didn’t even turn to look at him. She merely smirked. 

Magnus didn’t have a chance to say anything more before Camille was speaking. “Shoot him,” she said simply. 

It was only a second between her words and Magnus watching as a gun went off, the same gun held to the back of Alec's head. Alec slumped forward instantly. He probably hadn’t heard what Camille said before it happened, let alone had a second to process it. A bright red puddle slowly started to spread out from under him, forming quicker than Magnus thought it should. 

Magnus had seen enough people die to know that Alec wasn’t getting up, but none of those people he’d watched die had been Alec. He should have known better, but he didn’t. He froze as he stared, waiting for Alec to move. He waited for him to gasp in a pained breath or lurch on the ground, showing any sign that he was still alive where he laid, but Alec didn’t move, not even an inch. 

He was dead and part of Magnus knew it. Part of him had known that Alec would die for a while now, even if he desperately tried to think of a way out of it. They were all dead the moment they walked inside. Magnus had been expecting it, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to process. 

He couldn’t be dead. Alec couldn’t die, not here, not like this, not before Magnus. It was wrong. The entire situation was wrong. Alec wasn’t supposed to die. Alec was never supposed to die, not here, not because of Magnus, not like this. 

Magnus didn’t sob. He didn’t scream even if he wanted to, but a quiet shudder worked its way through him and before he knew it, there were tears dripping down his face, falling silently to the ground. 

Magnus didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about Alec. He didn’t want to think about any of it. He just wanted it all to be over already, but his mind flickered back to the first time he met Alec anyway. He couldn’t even remember what had happened. He just remembered that they’d been in school together and Magnus had been enamoured with him from the first moment they met. 

In his mind, he saw Alec young and alive as he stared at him lying lifeless on the ground. He remembered Alec with his lanky, awkward limbs, not yet grown into his body, his messy hair and his soft cheeks. He'd smiled shyly at first and Magnus hadn’t even known how beautiful it would be the first time he got to see that brilliant blinding grin on Alec’s face He remembered Alec’s arm around him. He remembered wearing his jacket. He remembered Alec kissing his cheek and blushing after, neither of them too sure if the soft kisses were welcome or if the other found it all far too corny.

Magnus wanted to spend forever there. He wanted to spend forever in that life, when he’d had no clue what was coming, when he'd thought he’d be with Alec forever, when he’d thought that there was nothing that could possibly rip them apart. That’s what Magnus’ life was supposed to be like. That’s how it was supposed to be forever, just him and Alec and nothing else that mattered half as much.

Magnus would do anything to go back there. He’d do anything to do it differently. He’d never have started working for Camille. He’d never have let Alec leave his side. He’d kiss Alec everyday and at every chance he could and he’d let nothing pull them away from each other, not even for a moment. But Magnus couldn’t go back. That wasn’t how the world worked and kneeling here with Alec’s dead body just a few feet away from him, the only thing Magnus could hope for now was that they’d get another chance. 

Some people believed in reincarnation. Maybe, they’d be reincarnated and some other version of Magnus would meet Alec and be enamoured with him all over again Maybe, that Magnus would be better. Maybe, he’d try harder. He’d be a better person and he’d work to deserve even an ounce of happiness with some other version of his Alexander.

Magnus had never believed in reincarnation. He wished he could. He wished that he could believe in any of it but, deep down, Magnus knew that he wasn't going to get another chance. This had been his one chance with Alec. This had been his one chance with it all and the only thing he’d ever done in his life was hurt a lot of people and end up getting his best friend and the love of his life killed. 

Maybe, there was a heaven and Alec would be going there. Magnus knew he’d deserve it, but if any of that was true, he also knew that he would not be meeting Alec in the same place. Alec had always seen something in him that didn't exist. He’d always seen something good, but that wasn’t who Magnus was.

Magnus wondered if Alec realized it in the end. He wondered if he’d realized just before he’d been killed how horrible Magnus had always been. He wondered if it had all fallen into place for Alec, like it had for Magnus with Camille. He wondered if he’d just realized that the person he loved hadn't really existed. The Magnus Bane that deserved Alec’s love had only existed in his head. 

Magnus wondered if Alec had regretted loving him, just before it was over. He knew he’d deserve it, if he had, but Alec was dead and he couldn’t even ask. Maybe that was better anyway. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer or not. He was pretty sure he didn’t. 

Magnus only tore his eyes away from Alec when Camille walked over to him. He didn’t want to stop looking. He wanted the last thing he ever saw to be Alec, even the twisted grotesque version of him that was laying dead on the ground, but he couldn’t help his eyes from jumping to Camille anyway. 

She walked towards him slowly and he could see even through his swollen, bleary eyes that she was smiling. She was pleased. This was playing out exactly like she’d wanted it to. This was exactly how she’d planned for all of this to go. It was only Magnus who’s world was ending. 

Camille crouched before him. She didn’t reach out to touch him like she had Alec and Magnsu was thankful for it. For a moment, they both stared at each other and neither of them said a single thing until Camille finally murmured, “We’d have worked so well together. You realize that, right?” 

Magnus could have laughed. Of course, that’s what she’d be thinking about. She’d be thinking about how many people they could have killed together, how many lives they could have ruined if Magnus had just run into her arms instead of running away when Ragnor died. 

“I’d never have worked for you. Not after I knew what you were,” he spit instantly. 

Camille eyed him for a moment before her eyes flickered over to Alec on the floor. Slowly, she looked back to Magnus and cocked her head. “I think we both know that’s not quite true.”

Magnus said nothing, but he knew she was right. He’d have done it for Alec. He’d have done anything for him, but Alec was dead now and Magnus… Well, Magnus had been dead for a long time. He’d been kidding himself to ever think he could have a life. He’d been living on borrowed time, Camille’s time. He just hadn’t known it. 

“I’ll miss this,” she murmured. “You were so interesting for a while, but you became just a little too predictable for my taste.” She eased back, rising to her feet yet again and leaving Magnus on the ground, covered in his own blood.

He had thought that was it. He thought that any moment now another gunshot would ring through the room and then, he would learn exactly what it felt like to stop breathing. He’d learn what Alec had gone through not too long ago, but that’s not what happened. 

Instead, Camille walked around Magnus until she’d settled behind him. The men who’d been standing at Magnus’ side before had vanished. He was sure they were close enough to step in if they needed to, but he couldn’t see them any longer. The warehouse stretched out before him and all he could see was Raphael, Simon and Alec. 

Camille said nothing for a long moment. No one in the building so much as breathed. Outside, Magnus could hear it had started to rain. The only noise he could hear was the gentle pattering of water on a metal roof so far above him.

It had rained the night that Ragnor died.  Not when it happened, but long after when Magnus was entirely alone, thinking his life was over, not yet knowing how true that was. It was fitting in a way. Maybe, the world felt bad for him. Maybe the world was mourning another life in which things had gone differently, just like Magnus was.

Magnus’s eyes fell down and it was no sooner after he looked away that Camille spoke. “Look at him,” she murmured. 

Magnus’ jaw tightened. Camille was not mourning anything. She purred with pleasure as she spoke. Magnus looked up. He didn’t have to wonder what she meant or why. She wanted him to look at Alec. She wanted him to be thinking about the fact that Alec was dead and it was all his fault before it was over. She wanted the last thing he ever saw to be Alec crumpled on the ground in a pile of his own blood. 

He looked so broken. He looked so small. Magnus didn’t understand how people looked so small when they died. Alec was always bigger than him, but now he looked so small that Magnus thought he could walk forward and cradle Alec in his arms. 

Magnus wondered if he’d be stiff already. He wondered if he’d still feel warm. He wondered if he pressed a kiss to Alec’s lips if Alec might feel it, wherever he was now. Magnus wondered if wherever he was, if he was anywhere at all, if he was sitting with him and sharing the same impossible fantasy of one last kiss before it was over or if Magnus was truly sitting here alone, like he was pretty sure he was. 

There would be no final kiss and Alec wasn’t even here to want it with him. Alec was gone. Alec was dead. If Magnus had never met him, he knew that he’d still be out there alive somewhere, happy maybe, visiting his siblings and not knowing how colossally someone named Magnus might have messed up his life in some other universe. 

“He loved you so much,” Camille murmured. “It’s a pity.”

A bitter laugh made its way out of Magnus’ throat. At least Camille was here. He wasn’t really alone. He’d never been alone. Everything in his life always ended with him sitting with her. 

“I loved him too,” Magnus said finally. The words came cracking out of his throat. He could taste blood in his mouth still, so much of it. He didn’t even feel around with his tongue to see how many of his teeth were broken. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t need them soon. There would be no horrified dentist to look at Magnus' mouth and try to put him back together again. 

“It’s a shame that never really mattered, isn’t it?”

For a moment, Magnus was going to say nothing and then, he spoke one last time. “It mattered,” he insisted quietly. “It’s the only thing that mattered.” 

Behind him, Camille stilled. She’d been enjoying their conversation up until that point, but Magnus was sure that his sudden conviction made the whole thing hit a sour note for her. She’d been entertaining his words for as long as they pleased her but, suddenly, she was not enjoying it anymore. 

Magnus heard the gun click behind him. He had just a second to realize that Camille was about to shoot him. He was the only one that Camille had bothered to shoot herself. Everyone else, she’d condemned to die by someone else's hand, but Magnus was going to die the same exact way that Ragnor had, by her hand, by her gun, only gone the moment she decided it. 

Magnus looked at Alec. He didn’t look away for a second, even if part of him wanted to and when the gun finally went off, the image of Alec laying dead against the ground was the last thing Magnus ever saw. 

He didn’t hear the gunshot. He didn’t even register what had happened before it was over, but he thought of Alec and he held the image of his lover close before his mind lapsed into thinking of nothing at all. 

Everything was entirely still. Only the blood streaming out of Magnus’ head to the ground moved along with the rain dripping down the dirty windows. 

Camille sighed softly and stepped around Magnus to walk outside.

Last Chapter | Master Post. 

[ali-kitkat]

Audacity Ch 3

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Adrien followed the boy who sabotaged his plans to Chloe’s hotel. He assumed that he just left Marinette’s home before leaving for the night. His newest strategy was to show Marinette the error of her ways by hurting her friend, before he re-did the wish. She should have told him about her new friend, he should’ve met him before they were even alone together. She made her choice. She’s going to live with it now, he mused. When he re-does the wish, she’s going to remember her friend was injured, but only because she was going to have inkling of his actions, she should know that he wasn’t going to put up with insubordination. Altering her memories wouldn’t be difficult, she’s going to believe her friend was beaten because he was dangerous, which he is. That her friend was going to hurt her, Damian did, he took her away. He was going to be her hero again. Damian, he recalled, was checking in and headed upstairs to sleep for the night.

Having all the information he needed he headed to the bakery to get the ring. He loved her but she wasn’t exactly the smartest, hiding the ring in her diary box was a huge mistake on her end. He remembered that box very well as she had to unlock Sabrina’s hand from it. Since she wouldn’t open the box for him, he needed to delay her. Knocking her out was the smartest option, she wasn’t going to remember he hit her either.

*~*~*~*

Damian wasn’t surprised that the blond idiot couldn’t even hide on the roof tops very well. He spotted Adrien, pun intended, instantaneously. His was in a bright, obnoxious red suit, and he was sitting on the edge of a roof top watching the street, only moving when he had walked into his line of sight. He was easy to divert as well, all Damian had to do was walk into the Grand Paris hotel and Adrien left as feigned checking in. He left as quickly as he entered.

*~*~*~*

Adrien stared at his room in bewilderment, it was a mess. Marinette had destroyed it searching for the earrings.

“Spots off.” He muttered. Tikki flew out of the earrings and floated in front of him.

“What’s your plan now? Marinette has the ring and her memories; you can’t win her back and you can’t beat her either.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Teeks. I’ve got the ring right here,” Adrien taunted, holding out the diary box in his hand. “and you’re going to open it for me.”

She phased through the box and barely contained her giggles at the ring inside. She recognized Mari’s craftsmanship. A fake, she gave him a fake ring. Adrien snatched the ring out of the box. Slipping on the ring, he stood waiting for Plagg to appear and when he didn’t, he glanced down at the ring to see it hadn’t changed.

“Marinette gave me a fake.” He sighed infuriated, he ripped the ring off and threw it across the room.

“I’m going to show her the error of her ways, starting with her friend. Spots on Tikki.” He shouted as he leapt out the window.

*~*~*~*

His family didn’t worry about where he was all day, they did wonder why he was going out in his suit when all they were supposed to be doing was research on the botched timeline.

“Why are you going out as Robin? You know we’re not supposed to be seen, right?” Tim questioned, not looking up from his laptop.

“I have a friend who knows why the timeline was changed.” He replied, putting the ring in a false wall. He hoped his brothers wouldn’t question him about it.

“Wait what?” Dick asked, shock written on his face. Bruce looked up from the document he was reading and raised an eyebrow in question.

“You have a friend!” Jason and Tim yelled; the shock on their faces was quite amusing to him.

“Focus idiots, the timeline. You know why we’re actually here. Magic users and speedsters felt the change and my friend knows why. I’m going to check up on her because the person responsible happens to be obsessed with her.” He snarked exasperated, at the rate they were going to make him late and he was worried about Marinette. Damian had left immediately after.

He knocked on the balcony window waiting for a response. The interval of silence was too long for it to be normal, sure she could be asleep, but she knew he was coming back after he hid the ring. Carefully climbing in through the window he could see her on the ground, unconscious. She was still breathing, that much he could see. When her side he was enraged, her jaw was starting to bruise. Adrien knocked her out, and Damian was going to skin him alive. Lifting her into his arms, she shifted closer to him. He slipped out the window back to where he and family were staying.

When he got back, his family was waiting for him, Bruce and Drake sat while Todd and Grayson stood. They were all wearing shocked expressions.

“Damian, what the hell? Did you kidnap her?”

“What? No! Fucking Adrien Agreste knocked her out.” He defended, his rage rising. He attempted to set Marinette down on one of the sofas, but she wouldn’t let go much to his family’s amusement. The snickers behind him were setting him off further.

“Come on angel, you have to let go.” He muttered; she didn’t let go much to his annoyance and relief. He shifted her around enough that he had eventually woken her up. She froze in his arms before letting out an unholy screech.

“Who in the hell are you?” She yelled, flailing out of his arms. His family let out snorts and chortles at her bewildered expression.

“It’s me, Damian. Did I forget to mention that I’m a vigilante?” He replied dryly. She shot him a glare while rubbing a hand across her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just peachy. My ex-partner punched me in the face after he got what he wanted. Add that on top of the fact that he’s been manipulating me for the past year and that he caused my mother’s death. Yeah, I’m doing fucking swell; I’m going to tear him into pieces Damian.”

He could hear his family making noise behind them, fairly certain he heard Todd mutter Holy shit there’s two of them and decided to bite the bullet and introduce them motioning Marinette in the direction of his family.

“Marinette this is my family, unfortunately.” Damian presented, waving a hand in the general direction of his family.

“That’s rude baby bird.” One of the men standing spoke in a teasing voice.  

Marinette didn’t bother to muffle her laughter at Damian’s disgruntled expression. He glared down at her and she stuck her tongue out at him in return.

“I’m Jason Todd, the old man in the chair over there is Bruce Wayne. He’s Demon Spawn’s father.” A man with the white streak in his hair introduced himself.

“I’m Dick Grayson. How did baby bird meet you, because you are too cute to have just made friends with him?” The shorter man beside Jason spoke. “The one on the laptop is Tim Drake, don’t take his silence for rudeness though.”

“Right, Damian said you know why the timeline is screwed up. Can you tell us?” Tim interrupted, turning to face Marinette and Damian. Marinette raised an eyebrow in question. “Magic users and speedsters have experienced the backlash. They’re saying it originated from Paris, but they can’t place why or how.”

“A year ago, Paris was under attack by a magical terrorist named Hawkmoth and his accomplice Mayura. He wanted the miraculous from the local heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir. A set of earrings and a ring, together those two miraculous can make any wish true. Adrien Agreste the son of Hawkmoth, Gabriel Agreste, took the earrings and wished his mother never fell into a magical coma.”

“There’s no evidence of anything like that anywhere. How do you know that?” Tim questioned; wariness etched onto his face.

“I was Ladybug. Adrien betrayed me. He used them to wish for his mother back and magic comes with a price.” Marinette responded. She paused a moment. “That price was my mother.”

“Isn’t Agreste your boyfriend? Why would he betray you? Or knock you out?” Dick inquired.

“That asshole is not my boyfriend.” She snarled. “he’s the bastard who wished for me to love him and made me lose my memories of the last year.”

Dick stared at her in shock. “He made more than one wish?”

“Yes. He wished for me to love him and manipulated me into being his.” She sneered. “Not long after my mother died either.”

“What happens when you get the earrings back? Are you going to wish the timeline back to what it was?” Jason asked, curiosity taking over the shock. “Do you have the ring to do so?”

“No, I’m not going to wish for the previous timeline. I’m not stupid enough to abuse magic like that. Damian hid the ring for me, speaking of which. Could I get that back? I want to go rip Agreste a new asshole.”

*~*~*~*

Tag List: Let me know if want to be removed or added. 

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[anythingandeverything1d]

You or Him.

Your heart was pounding so loud you could hear it in your ears. You quietly opened the front door, sliding inside and immediately against the wall. You held a small nerf gun with only one bullet in your hand and you listened carefully for Harry’s voice. He should be just about done with his conference call. From what you could tell, his voice was coming from the living room- kitchen area. You crawled the last bit of hallway, getting down on your knees and peaking around the corner. Harry stood in the kitchen, his back was to you and phone to his ear. He was leaning against the counter nodding his head and agreeing with whoever was on the other line. You crawled to the island and waited for him to hang up the phone. 1:30pm, just like clockwork. Harry sighed after hanging up, running his hands through his hair. He was shirtless, dressed in his thin grey athletic shorts. You held the gun to your chest and tried not to laugh at how perfectly your plan was working out. Harry walked past the island and you jumped up and shot. The foam bullet hit him in the middle of his back. “Gotcha!” you yelled with a huge smirk on your face. 

Harry turned and shook his head laughing. He ran at you and wrapped you tightly in his arms, placing a warm and gentle kiss on the top of your head. He had always been very forward with his touchiness and it was something you looked forward to and loved. When the two of you were together he was almost always touching you, holding your hand, or finding some way to be extra close to you. You hugged him back, breathing in his familiar cologne, your nose pressed firmly against his chest and butterflies in your stomach. “I haven't seen you in ages and the first thing you think of doing is shooting me with a nerf gun.” he laughed and took a step back. “I fucking love you (y/n).”

You laughed along with him, the butterflies flying up at his words. “I love you to H.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and walked you into the living room. It felt good to be back, to be around Harry. The two of you had been friends for almost 6 years. You met through your mutual friend, his now ex bandmate, Louis, all those years ago. You had been there through everything with the two of them, Zayn leaving, their first concert without him, and their last concert all together as a band. In fact, you had been sitting front row of that one and afterwards you had hugged the two crying boys until everything had seemed okay. You had stayed more in touch with Harry over the years since Louis had been busy with his family, El, and Freddie, but of course you had checked in on Louis as well from time to time. You had celebrated and supported Harry’s first album, both the completion and release, along with his first solo interviews and his big acting break in Dunkirk. All of the late night phone calls about forgetting what to do and being nervous he wasn't good enough, you had been there for each and every one, waking up at 3:30 am to take the call even when you had classes at 8am the following morning. You had also supported him when he left for his big solo tour, even though it had killed a part of you to watch him leave. He had been away for the last year or so now and while you had been front row at a couple of his shows, you hadn't seen him in almost 6 months. Now that he was home, you wanted nothing more than to be around him every minute of every day, starting right now. “So do tell me, how was traveling the world?”

“Well it was amazing, but it lacked a little something.”

“Oh yeah what's that?”

“Something smallish...cute...sassy...”

“Louis Tomlinson,” you joked.

Harry laughed and shook his head, rolling his eyes at you. His fingers trailed along yours distractedly before slipping between yours and squeezing your hand gently. “You.”

You smiled and leaned your head against his shoulder. “I wish I could’ve been there for more. I really missed you Harry.” You snuggled against his chest and he tightened his grip around you. “I am really really proud of you though. Like seriously, so proud Haz” your heart swelled just thinking about it. You really were so proud of him and everything he had worked so hard to accomplish. 

“I missed you too and I know.” He smiled and looked down at you. “Tell me about your life, what’s new with you?” His free hand pulled your legs across his so that you were basically sitting in his lap. You looked into his green eyes and bit your lip as he waited for your life update.

You sighed and looked away. This was the part you had been dreading. Last month you had started dating this new guy. He was okay, you weren't exactly sure how your emotions leveled out with him or even if you wanted to be with him at all, but you had still been dreading this day from the time he had asked you out. Harry never took well to you having a boyfriend. In fact he had stopped talking to you for almost a month last time you started dating someone simply because he thought you could do better. It wasn't just his fault though, you didnt take well to him dating someone either. You and Harry had a special relationship. The two of you had been best friends for so long, you never really wanted to cross the line and risk the incredible thing you already had. Plus before when you had both considered dating, you had Louis to worry about. Now it just seemed like the time had gone. The two of you had agreed to just be friends and you had shoved any feelings for Harry down so deep they rarely showed. Of course, sometimes they did. Sometimes you saw headlines of Harry with another girl and it made you physically ill from the fact that you weren't the one with him. Sometimes you got mad that he had chosen a stuck up model to date. And sometimes you just got upset that his attention wasn't on you. It was a weird situation to be in. Harry nudged you, breaking your train of thoughts. “Well, work is boring as ever.” you smiled and rolled your eyes. “My boss still sucks and treats me like I am just some clueless unimportant woman but thats nothing new really.” Harry frowned. The thought of a man not treating you well always upset him, especially the thought of your boss treating you unfairly. “I uh-I also starteddatingsomeone..” you mumbled quickly. 

Harry’s body froze. His arms literally stiffened and you anxiously looked into his eyes, waiting for the outburst he typically had. “Oh.” he grumbled. “Thats nice.”

“Mhm.” you waited for more but Harry just sat there. “I think you might like this one..” you lied.

Harry just nodded. “Maybe.” You trailed your finger up and down his arm, waiting for him to continue on. He eventually lightened up and sighed. “So how’d you meet him?”

“I met him through a friend actually. A friend from school.”

“Oh. Mutual friends always make great relationships...”

“Harry please don't act weird.” you groaned, touching your nose to his cheek.

“I’m not.” he defensively said. 

“You are. You always act like this.”

“How do you want me to act (y/n)?” he practically growled. Tears formed in your eyes and you moved as far back as you could without falling off his lap. Harry saw your expression and stopped, his head dropped and he sighed. “I’m sorry. If you’re happy, I’m happy.” he said faking a smile. “How long-uh how long have the two of you been dating?”

“Not too long, maybe a month now?” you answered. Harry just nodded. “I want you to meet him.”

“Oh.” 

“Harry please. He's my boyfriend and you're- you're, well you're my best friend.” you said best friend with a certain tone and Harry didn’t seem to like it. “I just want the two of you to like each other. Your opinion matters to me.” It wasn't a lie. You valued Harry’s opinion more than anything. He told you how it was all of the time and that wasn't an exclusion with boys. Most of the time Harry was right about them even though you had always hoped deep down he said what he did because he had buried the same feelings you had. 

“Fine.” he grumbled. “But only because I want to make sure the guy is right for you.” 

You smiled and kissed his cheek as a thank you. It earned a small smile from Harry, but not his typical smile that made your knees shake. “Dinner tonight? We could make it the official start to Friday movie nights.”

“So now we are including him in Friday movie night?” Harry pushed you off his lap to stand up and pace in front of the couch.

“No. No Harry.” You grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down to you. “Friday movies are OUR thing. I just want you to meet him at dinner and then when he leaves it can be you and I. Just like normal.”

Harry relaxed a little bit after hearing that and you let the breath you didn't realize you had been holding out in relief. “Fine.”

You stood up, hugged him tightly and smiled. “Dinner at 6:00. Don’t even think about being late Harry.”

“When am I ever late to something that involves you?” he asked with a grin.

“I just wanted to make myself clear.” you laughed while shaking your head and walking to the door. You blew him a kiss and grinned. “See you tonight.”

He caught the kiss and placed it on his heart. “7:00 right?” he teased with a deep laugh. You gave him a look and he laughed harder. “I’m kidding. I’ll see you later.”

You got home and anxiously prepped dinner. You made one of Harry’s favorites, spaghetti and meat balls with garlic bread. It was something easy and Harry always said that he loved the dinner because of the face you had once paired it with lady and the tramp. That was what had started your tradition for Friday monthly movie nights. You set the table when the doorbell went off. You walked over and opened it. Your boyfriend had a rose in his hand and a smile on his face. “Hey you.” He handed you the rose and walked in. “It smells amazing in here. I’m really excited for dinner.”

“I am too. I’m excited for you to meet Harry.”

“Where is he?”

You looked at the clock and rolled your eyes. It was 6:05, and just like Harry had promised he wouldn't do, he was late. Normally Harry arrived promptly an hour early to movie night, just because he was so excited to spend time with you. You heart ached a little knowing he wasn't excited like normal but you also knew that your boyfriend intruding in dinner had set him off. Harry walked in a minute or so later. He had a bouquet of flowers, all of your favorite flowers to be exact. He walked over with a big grin on his face. “Hey beautiful.” he half hugged you holding the flowers. He hand them over and you smiled. He placed a kiss on your head and grinned. “Those are your favorites right?”

“Yeah, they are beautiful Haz. Thank you.” You carried the flowers to the kitchen to put them in a vase and Harry followed, trailing closely behind you. 

“Dinner smells amazing. You know how much I appreciate your spaghetti.” He winked and you grinned shaking your head in response. Your boyfriend walked over and cleared his throat, reminding you he was also here. Harry glared at him, his hand firmly holding yours. 

“Harry..” you removed your hand from his and stood between them. “This is my boyfriend.” Your boyfriend stuck his hand out and Harry just looked at it until you gave him the look. Harry reluctantly shook it and rolled his eyes. Harry was about to say something but luckily the timer went off and you pulled the bread out. 

“Lets eat.” you said carrying it to the table. Harry sat next across from you and your boyfriend at the table. He kept kicking your feet, playing games like he normally would while eating mouthfuls of spaghetti. Your boyfriend kept looking between you two with an unreadable expression. Harry didn't say a word to him the entire meal and you were a little annoyed he wasn't trying to get to know him. 

Towards the end of the meal your boyfriend had finished his plate. He leaned over and kissed you, his lips locking on yours. “That was delicious. Thanks for cooking baby.”

Harry actually choked on the bite of bread he had taken. He watched your boyfriend closely, his eyes full of anger. “I think I’m done.” he pushed his plate forward and leaned back in his chair.

“You never finish without eating at least another helping of spaghetti, let alone not finishing your plate.” You commented.

“I’m feeling a little ill.” he glared at your boyfriend.

“If you're sick you should probably go home..” your boyfriend countered.

You almost spit out your bite of food. You had never seen him jealous before but he looked like he wanted to hurt Harry. “You know-”

“Actually (y/n) and I have a movie night planned tonight. I wouldn't miss that for anything.” Harry crossed his arms and watched, waiting for a response.

Your boyfriend looked over, his mouth dropping. You shrugged your shoulders in response. You didn't mention the movie night to him because you hadn't wanted him insisting on staying. He had been trying to sleep with you for weeks now, but you just weren't feeling it. You had also wanted to be alone with Harry during movie night but theres no way you would ever admit that to either of them. “Can we talk?” he asked looking at you suddenly. You nodded your head and allowed him to pull you into your bedroom. “What the hell?”

“What?” you asked, placing innocent.

“Were you just not going to mention a movie night?”

“I didn’t see it as an important detail. Harry and I always have movie nights once a month on Friday. He’s been gone so of course we are going to have one now that he's back.”

“So I’m not included because?”

“Because...because...” you stumbled. You knew this question had been coming but you weren't ready to answer it. “Harry’s my best friend. I haven't seen him in  literally forever. I just wanted it to be us tonight.”

“You need to choose.”

“Excuse me?”

“Its either me or him.”

“Why?”

“Because. The way you look at him, the way you interact with him. It’s like you're both in love with each other. He’s been back one day and he's already taken priority over our relationship. It’s me or it's him. You cant have both.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

You looked at him, mouth open. He was seriously asking you to choose between him and Harry. You laughed angrily and shook your head. “This is ridiculous.”

“It is. But it's still happening. Me or him (y/n). Who's it going to be?”

You didn't even think before answering. “Harry. It will always be Harry.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and walked out without another glance. You followed him to the kitchen and watched him leave without another word. Harry looked back at you confused. You had tears in your eyes and you didn't quite know why. Harry rushed to your side, pulling your arms out and examining them. “Did he hurt you? What happened?” You pushed him off and wiped your eyes.

“He said I needed to choose.”

“Choose?”

“You or him.”

Harry laughed until he realized you were serious. He stopped and looked at you suddenly afraid you weren't going to choose him. He saw the tears in your eyes and he took a step back. You were crying more now because he was moving away, but you reached out for his hand. Harry reluctantly let you grab it, and he pulled you into his arms, rubbing small circles in your back while you cried. “Shh don't cry (y/n).... I get it. You need to pick him. It’s fine. Don't worry about-”

“Pick him?!” you stepped away, snot falling from your nose. “Harry are you kidding me?” You were still crying and Harry was confused. “I picked you. I’ll always pick you. I love you don't you get it.” 

You were crying harder now, your once buried feelings for Harry surfacing. Harry stepped closer and without a word or second thought, pressed his lips into yours. You froze. He didn't give up. He bit down on your lower lip, gently tugging. He patiently waited for you his lips rolling against yours. Your mouth opened and his tongue went inside, sliding off of yours. He kissed you like it was the one and only kiss he would ever get. His arms tightened around your waist, picking you up and placing you on the edge of the counter. You tangled your hands in his hair, while his hands dug into your thighs. You groaned into the kiss and he smirked against your lips. His body rested between your legs as he kissed you. He kissed down your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin below your ear. He smiled and ran his finger along the swollen red mark he left before returning his lips to yours. When he finally pulled away you were both gasping for air, your forehead against his shoulder, his breath falling down the back of your neck while he rested his head against yours. “I love you. I’ve loved you for 5 years and I’m done wasting time.” You smiled and wiped your eyes while crying more. He let you use his shirt to wipe your face and then carried you to the couch where he snuggled you into a blanket and held you on his lap. The two of you were so content, you could have cared less that the tv wasn't on and your movie wasn't playing. You had Harry and as long as you had him, everything else would work itself out just fine.

---

Just a small little blurb. Enjoy. xoxo

[artificialqueens]

Different People (Different Arguments), 3/14 (Branjie/Jankie) - Ortega

a/n: ayo!! so sorry for the update gap fam, but chapter 3 is here! soooo hope u all enjoy. p.s. i promise I love Nicky, Gigi and Crystal…but every good story has a bad guy right???

fic summary: Brooke Lynn is a political advisor for a government department where she has to contend with an incompetent Minister, maintaining her stone-cold bitch image, working alongside a press team of slackers, and the Prime Minister’s ever-so-slightly terrifying enforcer breathing down her neck 24/7. So when a familiar face from her past arrives as her new boss, she’s not exactly thrilled to add another problem to her ever-growing pile.

And then she admits she’s got a crush on her coworker.

Last chapter: Jackie became a breakout political star after she spoke out against the homophobia and misogyny in the media, and Brooke finally acknowledged that her feelings for Vanessa maybe weren’t as platonic as she’d thought.

In this chapter: When Shadow Minister Nicky Doll and her advisors arrive at DoSac for an informal, pre-election briefing, Jan tries to cope with the stress of seeing her old colleagues again. There’s more at stake, though, when Jackie reveals a secret that cannot get out.

***

Casting her eyes over the meeting room, Brooke attempted to focus on what Jackie was actually saying. She was trying her hardest, she really was, but it was just that Vanessa was wearing the red jumper today, the really soft one that made her look more cuddly and adorable than normal.  

Brooke had a crush on Vanessa. She’d accepted that now. The way to deal with it was just to never act upon it, talk about it, or to admit it to anyone outside of her own head. She’d spent so long cultivating the perfect stone-cold, heartless bitch image and she wasn’t exactly going to do anything to taint that now. The most important thing she had to remember was that she didn’t need anyone- she had no desire to be in a relationship, to be tied down and have to answer to someone else all the time. She had a perfectly good bullet to get her off and if she felt like it she could always go and pick up someone random from a bar. There was always that irritating aspect when the afterglow had faded, though, if whoever she’d used for the night wanted to stay over, or heaven forbid see her again. Things were just better as they were, Brooke concluded. She couldn’t get attached, or hurt, or fall in love this way. If there was one thing she wasn’t, it was vulnerable. Getting into a relationship with someone put you in the weakest position you could possibly get.

She would know, after all.

Still, she was allowed to dream about it; an ideal world in which love worked out the way it did in books and movies, one huge cliché where Brooke and Vanessa were happy together and lived in perfect domesticity, had the best sex of their lives and went on adorable dates. It was simplistic and shallow and completely unrealistic, but perhaps that was all it was meant to be.  

Gazing at Vanessa again, she was surprised to see her eyes already on her. She was even more surprised when she looked around the room and saw that everyone else was staring at her as well.

“Brooke Lynn?” Jackie asked, staring at her expectantly. She stood in front of a huge whiteboard with marker pen scribbled all over it- generic buzzwords such as “connectivity”, “inclusivity” and “diversity” sprang out to her, but nothing really indicated what Jackie could have previously been talking about.

“Um. The fiscal year?” Brooke guessed blankly. Jan laughed from across the table, throwing her head back and letting her blonde hair cascade down the back of the chair. Jackie didn’t find it as funny.

“For God’s sake, Brooke, this policy is only going to work if everyone pays attention and has some form of input other than just staring at me with glassy eyes like they’ve been goddamn taxidermied!” she sighed, sitting her pen down on the table and sliding into an empty chair. Brooke felt a pang of guilt- Jackie had been doing well in the two weeks that had followed her Von’Du interview and had received heaps of public support and attention. The perfect time, Bianca had insisted, to get some new ideas out there and into parliament.

“Sorry. Remind me of the premise?”

Irritated, Jackie rolled her eyes before Vanessa cut in with a sweet smile. “Issa scheme to get the UK to house more refugees and get ‘em into work therefore boosting the economy, diversifyin’ the nation and basically makin’ us look like good guys to the rest of Europe.”

Brooke shot her a grateful smile across the table, trying her best not to blush.

“Thank God someone’s been listening,” Jackie smirked. “We’re basically just trying to come up with a name for it. Or a tagline or something.”

Brooke pressed her pen to her lips, thinking for a second. Nina suddenly piped up from beside her.

“What about…Don’t be bigoted. Be uninhibited,” she said, her suggestion met with utter silence from the rest of the group.

“Well that was nice, Nina, but how about something a bit less…” Jackie thought for a second, trying to find the correct word.

“Shit?” Brooke shrugged, Jan once again letting out a peal of laughter. Vanessa was clearly trying to conceal her giggles from the other side of the huge table, while both Nina and Jackie looked unimpressed.

“Do you have any better suggestions?”

“No, and I’m not going to pretend like I do! I’m not going to just yell out any old crap like I’ve got shit idea Tourette’s,” Brooke shrugged, Jan now bent over in her chair from laughter and Vanessa now audibly giggling. Brooke couldn’t tell, but she could have sworn Jackie let out the tiniest snort of a laugh before regaining composure.

“Ladies, please, this is important! This is a good damn idea, if I’m allowed to blow my own trumpet, and we’ve got to get it out there sooner rather than later,” she insisted. A loud, harsh vibration from Nina’s phone startled them all.

“Bianca’s here,” she announced, trying to keep her tone bright. Before the girls even had time to react to the news, Bianca had appeared in the room in a smart, tailored black and white suit.

“Good morning to you all, shit Spice Girls impersonation act,” she smiled cheerfully.

“Mornin’, Bianca,” Vanessa greeted her.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jackie quipped dryly, lounging back in her seat.

“Two things from me,” Bianca began, ignoring the Minister’s sarcasm. “The shadow minister’s visit, today at 11. They’re going to be talking to Nina and the rest of those brain-dead, civil-service puppets out there about what’s going to happen if they take office. Nina, your job is to basically communicate to them that they’ll be taking it out of my cold, dead hands.”

“Fuck, that’s today?!” Vanessa exclaimed somewhat involuntarily, earning her a steely glare from Bianca which in turn made Vanessa look as if she was seconds away from death. Reaching into her pocket and retrieving her phone, Brooke fired off a quick text to Vanessa under the table.

B: It’s okay. Snakes only eat once every few weeks x

As Bianca briefed Nina, Brooke watched as Vanessa looked down into her lap and smiled, a light blush colouring her cheeks very slightly, although that could have just been the light of the room. Satisfied that she’d made Vanessa feel better, she tuned back in to what Bianca was saying.

“…you tell them nothing. Except where the toilets are, but you lie about that.”

“So who’s actually accompanying Nicky today? I’ve heard nothing and I want to make sure I’m relatively prepared for whoever enters my department,” Jackie folded her arms across her chest, already defensive.

“You already know about Nicky. Privately educated daddy’s girl and massively out of touch with the electorate. Probably a lizard wearing a human skin suit, I’ve never particularly wanted to get close enough to her to check if that theory’s true,” Bianca shrugged. “The other two coming with her are going to be her advisors, Gigi and Crystal.”

“Oh no,” Jan suddenly exclaimed from her chair. Her face had gone incredibly ashen, her eyes wide and fearful. Suddenly Brooke was acutely aware that she no longer had only Vanessa to worry about. If Jan’s old colleagues and ex-friends bumped into her it wouldn’t be particularly pleasant, and Jan would no doubt be incredibly shaken. Crossing the floor was like a betrayal, pledging loyalty to one party after being aligned with another was treacherous, and so it was likely that Gigi, Crystal and Nicky still wanted Jan’s head on a stick.

“Oh yes. Gigi Goode, bit of a newborn as far as politics is concerned but she’s got impressive credentials. Graduated from Oxford University with a first class degree and a PhD in Politics and Business. Won the World Universities Debating Championships five consecutive times. She’s confident, clever, and has zero scruples. Knows every loophole in the world of politics,” Bianca reeled off. Jackie raised her eyebrows, clearly impressed.

“She sounds interesting.”

“Don’t even make contact with her, she’ll probably have you telling her the fucking nuke codes and all the department’s discrepancies within the first 30 seconds of meeting her.  Crystal Harness is a different story,” Bianca frowned. “Not too good when it comes to actual political knowledge. Nina, you and her would get along. She’s a baby too, really, not been in the game long. Graduated from Oxford Brookes. Second class degree in Psychology and Sociology. Don’t think for a second that this is a reason to underestimate her. She is cunning and has intellect and knows everything about everyone, don’t let her see you break a sweat.”

Jackie looked momentarily terrified. “I didn’t realise Nicky had some kind of metahuman task force working for her.”

“They’re not that bad,” Brooke sighed, tipping her head back in her chair. “If you talk to Nicky entirely in cockney rhyming slang, she’ll just combust. Gigi is fine if you give her a fake smile or two. Crystal is basically simple. You’ve got nothing to worry about, Jackie.”

Feeling the mood in the room change, Brooke turned around in her wheely chair and was met with Bianca’s icy stare.

“What part of ‘don’t underestimate these people’ do you not understand? What, you think they’re here for a jolly little chat with Nina about worker’s rights and office hours? They’re here to get intel, and I want you all to be more airtight than some middle-aged white woman’s Tupperware. And no, that’s not a euphemism.”

Brooke watched as Vanessa wrinkled up her nose in distaste. She had such a cute little nose, and Brooke found herself imagining how perfect it would be to just kiss it gently before they both drifted off to sleep together in a little house that they shared. Frowning involuntarily, Brooke chased those particular thoughts out of her head. They were way too intense, too weird and commitment-y for her friend she had a stupid crush on. Remembering what Bianca had said earlier, she turned and faced her.

“What was the other thing? You said you had two things to tell us.”

“I’m getting there! Right, Jackie, I’ve got you a good photo op this evening. Some new charging points for electric car owners, it’s going to be the biggest one in the UK and a big step for climate change, yadda yadda yadda. We’re going to get you driving in a fucking Prius or something, charging it up and then driving out again. Pretty simple, but effective- what? What is it?”

Every head in the room turned to face Jackie, who looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table, her knuckles white. She’d turned pale, her face ashen, and she seemed worried.

“Driving? No, I can’t drive, there’s no way,” she babbled, her usually calm and composed exterior completely destroyed.

“Jackie?” Jan prompted quietly, clearly concerned. Brooke shared a brief look of confusion with Vanessa. It was clear nobody had the faintest idea what was going on.

“I mean, you can drive. We have your drivers’ license, you sent in a photocopy as proof of identification when you received Darienne’s job. I don’t really see the issue here?” Bianca curled her top lip, completely unfazed by Jackie’s behaviour.

“Bianca, you don’t understand…I’ve not driven in ages, I…do you not-”

“Do I not what?” Bianca cut in, her irritation mounting by the second. “Look, I don’t really have time to stand here and argue the toss. This is part of your job. You’re doing the goddamn photo op. Christ, this was the girl who two weeks ago was desperate to get on prime time television. Now you’re shitting yourself at the thought of driving a bloody battery operated car. Get it done. 6 o’clock tonight. See you all later.”

As Bianca click-clacked out of the department, the mood in the room was still very tense. Almost frozen, Brooke thought, the tiny hairs on her arms standing up from goosebumps. Jan was the first to speak.

“Jackie, are you okay?” she almost whispered, her voice both deafening and quiet in the silent room. There were a few seconds (minutes?) where there was no response at all, in fact Brooke was almost convinced that nobody even breathed. Finally, Jackie spoke.

“Yep. All good. So, um, if you ladies can continue thinking up some form of line or title we can use or something while you’re finishing off that immigration data, and Nina if you can just forward me the protocol for Nicky’s visit again so I can read over it, then that would be great,” she said, her body almost frozen in place and her face wearing a fake smile.

Deciding not to push it any further, Brooke simply nodded and walked back to her desk. It wasn’t long before Vanessa was following behind, rolling her own wheely chair along to sit beside her.

“What d’you think all that was about?” she whispered, leaning her elbows on Brooke’s desk expectantly. Brooke couldn’t help but stifle a laugh- Vanessa could be such a gossip and it was one of the things that was oddly endearing about her. Trying not to be too taken in by her perfume and parted lips, Brooke instead threw up her defences again and rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know, ‘Ness. To be honest, it’s not my place to ask. It’s not yours either,” she chastised softly, hitting Vanessa gently on the nose with her pen. Wrinkling her nose and pulling away, Vanessa shrugged.

“You’re right, I know. Still, she was kinda rattled. Hope she’s okay,” Vanessa frowned, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“She’ll be fine. Honestly. Just go and do your damn job.”

“Hmm. Winding you up’s more fun, baby, but I’ll do what I’m told,” Vanessa winked at her, shooting back off to her desk in her chair.

Feeling her heart speed up, Brooke fleetingly wondered if maybe the feelings she had for Vanessa weren’t entirely one-sided. That was flirting, right? Brooke wasn’t reading too much into it? Or maybe she was. Reality brought her back down to earth with a bump, telling her what a ridiculous thought that was. Vanessa saw Brooke as a friend and a co-worker, and that was where her feelings ended. Brooke couldn’t let herself get carried away or distracted with the idea that Vanessa would ever treat her as anything more than what they already were.

Letting out a huge exhale of breath, Brooke opened up the immigration spreadsheet and was about to start working when there was a thud of two elbows on the empty space to her left. Turning slowly in an attempt to conceal her flinching, she was met with Yvie; head in her hands, black dreads cascading over her shoulders and a huge, smug grin on her face.

“Don’t even say a word,” Brooke warned her, clearly too late as Yvie began sniggering a laugh behind her hands.

“I wasn’t actually here to gloat, but now you mention it…” Yvie joked, lolling lazily against Brooke’s desk. “So you’ve not admitted anything to anyone else. In fact, you’re probably maintaining the fact that there’s nothing to admit. But you’ve definitely admitted something to yourself, because I think your face is so red that you could go stand at a street corner and act as a traffic light.”

“If you keep talking, I’m going to staple your mouth shut,” Brooke glared, grabbing the stapler on her desk for emphasis. It didn’t seem to intimidate Yvie at all, who was still grinning maniacally and completely unfazed.

“Hey, like I said! Not here to gloat at all. I’m actually not here to talk about your deep feelings for your coworker in any way. Just thought you might like to know that Akeria texted me this a couple minutes ago.”

With that, Yvie produced her phone and held it out to Brooke so that she could read the screen.

A: ahahaha yeah. Big Silk with the fuckin bodyshots man!! Don’t actually know how she made it in today. Also, 100% confirmed Nicky’s looking for stuff to take Jackie down with bc she’s still pissed about that dig in the Von’Du interview. watch ur back xo

Attempting to ignore whatever conversation that had been going on before, Brooke focussed on the important information. She wished she could say she was surprised by the shadow minister’s plan but in all honesty, she’d highly expected it. Sighing, Brooke handed Yvie her phone back.

“I mean, I’m not too worried. What can she possibly dig up? Jackie will’ve been vetted by Bianca already,” she shrugged, clicking on a single cell of the spreadsheet half-heartedly.

“She got pizza delivered to the office last week?”

“That’s not even- Yvie. Come on,” Brooke raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “The papers would be hard pressed to conjure up a paragraph on that. Jackie will be fine.”

Appearing to be satisfied, Yvie pushed herself off the desk and made to return to her seat, but not before turning back to Brooke with the same smug look on her face as before.

“You know, I don’t think anyone in the office could’ve missed that wink Vanjie gave you just there. Whatever you’re feeling, I don’t think it’s as one-sided as you think,” she smirked, making sure to keep her voice low. Unsure of what to reply, Brooke simply narrowed her eyes, picked up her stapler and clicked it twice in warning. Chuckling, Yvie sauntered back to her desk.

Trying not to even entertain the thought that Vanessa could like her back, Brooke continued with her work. All of the numbers suddenly seemed scrambled and jumbled up, making no sense to her whatsoever. Feeling as if she was about to scream with frustration she made to ask Jan for advice until she noticed her desk was empty. Come to think of it, Jan hadn’t actually left the meeting room with her and Vanessa. Bullshit if she was getting away with doing nothing while Brooke worked on this entire set of figures by herself. Getting up and smoothing her skirt down she made her way to the meeting room only to find it empty. Puzzled, she began to walk slightly aimlessly down the corridor, her curiosity piqued at the disappearance of both Jan and Jackie. It was unlike Jan to just wander off without telling either Brooke or Vanessa where she was going.

Reaching the photocopier and a dead end with no Jan in sight, Brooke was about to give up and ask Nina for help instead when she heard two sets of muffled voices coming from the stationery cupboard.  

“I’m just panicking, I know. But I feel like I have good reason to. I mean, it’s going to be absolute carnage if this gets out.”

“It won’t, don’t worry. I still can’t believe Bianca missed that when she vetted you. But please don’t panic, it’ll all be fine! I’ll speak to Nina and I’ll get her to quietly cancel it.”

Jackie and Jan. What the hell were they in the stationery cupboard for, and most importantly, what were they talking about? Whatever it was, it sounded serious. If it was serious business, Brooke deserved to know. Making to burst open the door in a show of outrage, she stopped herself when Jackie’s voice spoke again.

“I just feel like such a failure. I should’ve known it would get out, I should’ve said something-”

“Hey! You are not a failure,” Jan’s voice cut in urgently. There was an odd sort of pause in which Brooke wasn’t quite sure what was happening. “You’re a good person, Jackie, and a kick-ass politician. You’re the best thing to happen to this department since I arrived, even if I do say so myself.”

Soft laughter, then Jan’s voice again. “You’re incredible. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Another pause. Brooke couldn’t quite bring herself to move, somehow feeling as if she shouldn’t be hearing this at all. Composing herself, she rested her hand on the door handle.

“Jan I…this might seem inappropriate, but-”

“Okay, what the hell is going on in here?” Brooke demanded as she flung open the door and revealed herself. Both girls seemed to jump back a bit, Jackie looking to the floor awkwardly and rubbing the back of her neck, Jan’s mouth forming a perfect circle as her jaw dropped in shock. They had both gone bright red, which Brooke thought was odd for two colleagues having a professional conversation.

“Jesus, Brooke, you scared the crap out of me,” Jackie breathed out raggedly, her voice spooked but holding an underlying note of irritation.  

“I don’t care, you haven’t answered my question. What were you talking about? What’s going to be carnage?” Brooke replied, keeping her glare cold. Jackie kept her eyes trained on the floor, not seeming to want to look up anytime soon. Jan still hadn’t spoken.

“Close the door,” Jackie said finally, sounding a little shaken. Feeling the wind slightly knocked out of her sails, Brooke did as she was told and watched as Jackie steadied herself on the shelf and sat on an unopened box.

“Um. Do you remember I kind of went off grid after uni? A lot of people were asking after me and couldn’t really find me.”

With a pang of guilt, Brooke’s first reaction was that she hadn’t really cared. She’d been glad to see the back of Jackie at the time, if she was honest. Times had changed, though, so Brooke simply nodded instead. Jackie wrung her hands together, her face completely racked with nerves.

“I wasn’t in a good place. My mental health spiralled out of control pretty dramatically once I graduated, I struggled to find a job for a while and when I did, I got way too into it. I would work myself into a frenzy, I’d do consecutive days on two hours of sleep…at one point I was averaging a panic attack per day. I didn’t really, um. I didn’t really have anyone to talk to about things. I tried going to therapy but it just didn’t help. I don’t know…it felt like I was making progress just being able to know that I was visiting someone, I guess, but I wasn’t really. Anyway, you don’t need to know my sob story,” Jackie frowned, shaking her head repeatedly. “To cut a long story short, I was driving into work one day, trying to do twenty things at once as usual. It was idiotic, but I was on the motorway and a text came through from my boss and wanting to seem like I was organised and in control, I tried to type and drive at the same time…the motorway was quiet, there was nobody around me…fuck, sorry-”

As Jackie’s voice broke slightly, Jan crossed over to where she sat and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I crashed into the barricade in the central reservation doing fifty miles an hour. God knows how I’m still alive. The police obviously came along with the ambulance and the fire brigade and of course they wanted to know how it was that I managed to crash on a clear stretch of road with no other drivers around me. I’ve never been able to lie to save myself, so I just told them. I’d only passed my test the year before that, so they took my license away. That’s why I can’t do the PR thing. It’s illegal for me to drive. I got a fake license purely so I could take this job.”

Leaning against the door, Brooke felt she wanted to sit down too. This was so much to deal with. She couldn’t style herself out as not caring about this, because she actually felt sick to her stomach with guilt. She couldn’t believe Jackie had coped- or not coped- completely on her own through all this horrible mess. Even though there was no way she could have known, Brooke just wished she could’ve done something differently. She desperately hoped Jackie was better now.

“Jackie, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. This isn’t about me being…enormously god damn mental in the head, or whatever,” she snorted a derisive laugh. “I’m more worried about how we’re going to placate Bianca. Jan said she’d talk to Nina and get her to cancel the shoot but Bianca’s going to ask questions.”

“Well it’s not your fault she didn’t vet you properly,” Brooke shrugged, how Bianca would feel the absolute last thing on her mind right now. “So she can just deal with it. How Bianca feels doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re okay.”

Jackie looked up at her, her face grateful but slightly taken aback at this raw show of compassion. Truthfully, Brooke was also slightly shocked at how kind she was being towards her. She was grateful for the shout that came from the hall suddenly.

“Brooke? Guys? You in there?” Vanessa asked, as she opened the door and stepped inside the stationery cupboard that was ever-decreasing in space. Confused by the presence of her boss and the two other advisors, her perfect eyebrows became furrowed together. “There some meeting I didn’t know about?”

“Yeah, in the stationery cupboard. It was really important, girl, did you not get the memo?” Jan laughed affectionately. Laughing briefly at her own ridiculous assumption, Vanessa then tentatively looked at everyone else again.

“So…why we all here?”

Brooke briefly looked at Jackie, then sighed. “Jackie can’t do the PR stunt because legally, she’s not allowed to drive. She got done for texting while driving years ago and her license got revoked.”

Vanessa’s mouth dropped open a little as if she was about to ask how, then shut again as she clearly decided against it. “Does Bianca know?”

Giving her an affectionate smile, Brooke raised her eyebrows at her. “V. Come on. Use your brain.”

“Fuck, ‘course not. I’m so not with it today. So what’s happenin’?”

“Jan’s telling Nina to cancel it and when Bianca finds out, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. What’s important here is Jackie,” Brooke said decisively. Shocked again at the vulnerability she was showing, she smoothed down her black pencil skirt and sniffed once, trying to ignore just how close Vanessa was in the tiny space. “So that’s settled. Can we all get out of this cupboard and do some damn work? I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Without speaking, the four girls filed out of the cupboard as if the conversation had never happened. Brooke’s head was still slightly spinning as she slumped back in her chair, the excel spreadsheet now more confusing than ever. She was still attempting to take in everything that Jackie had just told her. It was so much to process, and Brooke couldn’t shake the guilty feeling that was settling in the pit of her stomach, the feeling that maybe there was something she could have done to help all those years ago. Sighing, she cast her eyes to Jackie’s glass-fronted office where the Minister was now typing into her phone, her face failing to betray anything about the heartfelt conversation that had just taken place. Why the hell did Jackie have to confide in her like that? Life would be so much less stressful if everybody just kept their guard up like Brooke did.

Still, she mused, everyone would probably be a whole lot more lonely.    

Suddenly, Brooke’s phone screen lit up with three messages at once- two from Jan, one from Vanessa.

J: I would love to, that sounds amazing (: we could go for sushi?? Wardour Street has some really nice places! Xxx

J: whoops wasn’t meant for you lol sorry

Brooke would probably have been about ten times more intrigued and curious about Jan’s text if she didn’t have a text from Vanessa awaiting her.  

V: I don’t care what kind of front you try to put up, you’re kind and caring and a total sweetheart x

Not even daring to look up and risk meeting Vanessa’s eyes, Brooke reached for a piece of paper on her desk and began to fan the blush that had just flooded her cheeks. Trying her best not to think about what Yvie had said earlier, she began to compose a reply.

B: You’re a cutie. Don’t tell anyone I was nice to you though, being a bitch is kind of my brand x

Risking a peek up over her monitor, Brooke watched as Vanessa picked up her phone and giggled, covering her mouth with one perfectly manicured hand.

God, it was going to be a long day.

***

They had arrived.

Brooke felt like a bird of prey as she stood beside Jan and watched from above as Nicky and her two advisors were greeted by Nina in the lobby. Even from six floors up Brooke could tell that Nina was hating the fact that she had to be at the very least civil to the three opposition members. Narrowing her eyes, Brooke watched closer.

Nicky was using the tactic she employed every time she had a television interview; gushing about how happy she was to be here, playing the humble, meek elected representative of the people. She was wearing an immaculate navy pencil dress with what appeared to be a Tiffany heart around her neck, and her sleek blonde hair was piled on top of her head in a bun. Following dutifully behind her were two others. The first girl Brooke heard before she saw- a cry of excitement at being in the building had been the very thing that proclaimed the arrival of the opposition. She was still making an obscene amount of excitable noise which travelled up the floors of the lobby as if it was riding the elevator. Squawker- or Crystal, Brooke supposed she should call her- was equally well turned out. She gave off a clear professional vibe in her button-down shirt, blue skirt and little heeled boots, and her curly red hair was swept over one shoulder.

“Gigi needs her roots done. See?” Brooke whispered to Jan, not taking her eyes off the three opposition members. Receiving no response, Brooke turned to look at her friend. Jan’s shoulders were tensed up as she trained her eyes on the member of the opposition in question. Her style was immaculate and she wore a pressed white shirt with huge sleeves and a pair of smart tailored black trousers with her high heels. Her long, blonde hair had been immaculately styled and blow-dried, and Brooke found herself wondering how or if she had the time to do that every day. Looking to Jan again she found her brow furrowed, biting at her long, painted nails.  

“Jan, come on. Don’t ruin your nails, you’re better than that,” Brooke scolded, grabbing gently at Jan’s wrist and pulling it away from her face. Jan finally turned to meet her eyes before looking quickly back down at the floor again. “Hey. Talk to me.”

Sighing, Jan leant against the balcony, watching as the opposition were led away to the lift. “Sorry. I know I’m not myself today. It’s just this is really, really freaking me out. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve seen these girls since I crossed the floor, but to have them here where I work? It’s just a lot. It sounds dramatic but like…it kind of feels violating, if that makes any sense?”

Brooke nodded slowly. “I know you’re worried about it. But you’re being really brave about the whole thing. And hey, you kind of have an advantage, I guess! They’re on your territory, they’re not familiar or comfortable with anything here. Mainly because nothing’s engulfed by the flames of hell or costs over £10,000.”

Snorting a brief laugh, Jan’s face grew somewhat blank again. “I mean. Their tanks are on our lawn, though, they know we’re shook.”

Rolling her eyes, Brooke laughed derisively. “Jan. These private school bitches are not going to take power. You live in this country at the moment, do you really think the public are going to vote for people like Nicky?”

“Well, the public are idiots.”

Brooke gave a snort. “Jan, you can’t say the entire nation are idiots.”

“Yes I can, I’ve met them,” Jan deadpanned, signing off with a smile. Brooke relaxed against the balcony, comforted by the fact that Jan clearly felt a little better.

“Listen. One single day. One day of smiling and nodding like a puppet and just taking whatever crap or snide comments or shade they throw at you. You’ve handled so much worse,” Brooke smiled reassuringly, resting both hands on Jan’s shoulders. Comforted, Jan made to turn back to the department when suddenly she whipped her head back round.

“Brooke,” she murmured. “What if they find out about Jackie?”

“What, that she exists? I know it was a crushing disappointment to us all but they’ll get over it some day,” she deadpanned. Jan gave a colossal roll of her eyes.

“No, you bitch! The license thing,” Jan sighed in exasperation, raising her voice just a little.

Brooke paused for a moment. It was weird how protective Jan was of her boss. She was never like that with Darienne at all. Fair enough Jackie was far more competent but still, it wasn’t as if the two shared some deep personal connection or anything. Brooke thought about asking her about it, but instead decided that that probably wasn’t what Jan needed right at this very moment.  

“Who’s going to tell them? Me? You? Vanessa? Jackie herself? We’re the only ones that know. Come on, Jan, think,” Brooke tapped the side of Jan’s head once, punctuating her point. “It’s not going to get out.”

Smiling slightly, Jan seemed to compose herself and took one deep breath. As if something had occurred to her, she let out a laugh.

“God, what’s happening to you, Brooke? First you’re nice to Jackie for once and then you listen to me vent for ages. Your cracks are showing,” Jan smiled. Brooke attempted to style it out by shrugging, secretly a little unnerved that her recent empathy was being noticed.

“Stop psychoanalysing me, psycho, and let’s get back to our desks.”

No sooner had both girls turned the corner towards their office when they came face to face with the three members of the opposition coming out of the lift, Nina leading them. Jan immediately froze in place, seemingly unable to move. Brooke wanted to do something, anything to reassure her but before she could even look at Jan, Gigi’s cold grey eyes met her own.

“Nicky,” she turned to her boss, her cheerful, light voice at odds with the stare she was giving Brooke. “You go on ahead with Nina. Crystal and I are just going to have a little catch-up with a couple of old friends we haven’t seen in a while.”

Brooke wasn’t easily intimidated and she swore that today would be no different. As Gigi and Crystal advanced towards them, she drew her shoulders back and tilted her head, not giving a single thing away on her face. She could feel Jan growing more and more timid beside her. Christ, if these girls were planning on giving her friend a hard time then they’d be leaving the department in an ambulance.

“Brooke Lynn. Jan! So good to see you both,” Gigi began, her smile smug as she rested one nonchalant hand on her hip. “God, how long has it been? When was the last time we saw these two, Crystal?”

“Gee, Gigi, I don’t know! Did they not serve us at McDonalds when we went to get nuggets a couple days ago?” Crystal chimed in, flashing a quick, amused smile at her friend. Brooke muffled a derisive laugh as she shook her head. She couldn’t quite believe the schoolyard bullshit that these adult women were trying to start in her department. Still, if this was the game they were playing, then Brooke would play accordingly.

“Clever, implying that we’re both in minimum wage retail sector jobs! Something which your party loves to shit on very often. I love it,” Brooke smiled sweetly, gently clapping her hands. Gigi gave a fake laugh.

“Ladies, relax! It’s just some classic cross-party fun, no harm meant by it. You know that, right, Jan?” she flashed her a false smile. Brooke watched as Jan, shoulders now so hunched she was practically concave, gave a meek nod in response.

“You know, we really miss you, Jan,” Crystal nodded somberly, her voice high and sweet and almost-but-not-quite masking the fake sincerity behind her words. “Nicky’s always saying how open she’d be to having you back if you’d ever want to cross the floor…again! Gigi and I miss you too. We miss our friend.”

With that, Crystal reached a hand out and touched Jan’s arm gently. Flinching a little, Jan finally met her former colleague’s eyes and gave a weak smile. Brooke felt a flame of anger sting her veins as she watched the whole interaction. It was the same every time Jan ran into these two- they would start with the bitchy high school bullshit and Jan would be unable to ignore it, growing more and more quiet and subdued with every passing comment. Fuelled by her anger and dislike of behaviour of the two girls in front of her, Brooke snorted sardonically.

“Friend? Spare me the bullshit, you’d stab yourself in the back if it meant you got ten more followers on Instagram. Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to get back to work. You know, being in power? But this has been lovely,” Brooke flashed her bright white teeth in a smile, which Gigi returned equally as insincerely. “I haven’t had the conversational equivalent of hepatitis C in a long time.”

“As always, Brooke, you’re a very funny girl. Quite the comedian,” Gigi gave a tight-lipped smile as she stepped to one side and cleared a path down the corridor for the two girls. Hooking her arm through Jan’s, Brooke began to leave and had taken roughly three steps when she yelled her retort over her shoulder.

“I’ve got a lot of jokes, but none as good as your boss!”

Still fuelled from the frustration coursing through her veins, Brooke steered Jan the rest of the way down the hall and into the small kitchen like a demented steam train. It was only after she flicked the switch on the kettle so hard she thought she might have broken it when Jan spoke.

“I know they annoy you, babe, but don’t be too hard on them.”

“Don’t be too…Jan! They were standing there making you feel like a sack of shit, I wasn’t going to sit back and let them rip you to shreds! God, I can’t believe you’re defending them,” Brooke cried, grabbing two mugs and two teabags so hard she felt they might crumble apart in her hands. Silent for only a moment, Jan began playing with the edge of a tea towel, deep in thought.

“They were my friends once though. Who knows, maybe…maybe they were being serious. Maybe they do want to be friends again.”

As the kettle reached boiling point, Brooke took one deep, calming breath and began pouring them cups of tea. Part of her hated the way that she’d been conditioned into going straight to the kettle when something was angering or upsetting either her or her friends, as if a ridiculous hot drink was going to help make things any better. Vodka, now that would go some way to really help the situation. If Brooke and Jan shared a 75cl bottle, they’d be able to get so wasted that those idiots from the opposition wouldn’t bother them anymore. The bottle would also be ideal for smashing over Gigi’s smug face. Too bad it was too early for alcohol, Brooke mused, as she handed the smaller girl a steaming hot mug of tea. As Jan gave a grateful smile and began to sip, Brooke found herself wishing she could knock some sense into her. One of Jan’s biggest strengths was very feasibly also her biggest weakness; her determination to always focus on the good in people, to ignore their flaws and instead choose to look at their positives. It was something that made Jan such a horrendous judge of character. Christ, she’d worked for the opposition for a year, after all.

Casting another glance at her friend and deciding she’d visibly gained back a little of her confidence, Brooke grabbed her own mug off the countertop.

“Right, come on,” she said decisively. “We’re going to go back to our desks and drink these up and get on with our work, because these snakes that have slithered into the department don’t change a single thing about how capable you are as a professional. Okay?”

With a stifled smile Jan led the way back to the office, leaving Brooke wondering if she could still maintain the bitchy façade she always presented to the world if she was getting this good at cheering people up.

***

Sadly that wasn’t the only encounter they had to suffer with the opposition that day. Nicky soon appeared in the department’s offices with Nina, almost as a grand finale to the tour of Dosac she’d been given so far. She watched with narrowed eyes as Nicky made her way from desk to desk of the comms team, shaking hands and smiling in a sickeningly sweet manner that made Brooke want to hurl. Gigi and Crystal hovered behind Nicky’s shoulders like little cartoon devils and angels, except in Brooke’s opinion neither of them had many angelic qualities about them.

Attempting to ignore the gatecrashers in her office, Brooke turned back to her monitor. She supposed that maybe both Gigi and Crystal were pleasant people. Perhaps even Nicky at a push. They might still have been fun and friendly people to hang out with, after all, the politics they followed didn’t define them. Suddenly remembering a very obvious exception (Hitler), Brooke sent another withering glare the opposition’s way. Hit with another pang of doubt, she reasoned that comparing Nicky Doll to Hitler was perhaps an overreaction. Tuning out of the immigration stats that sat in front of her, Brooke instead found herself listening in to the conversation between Nicky and Nina.

“The space here is lovely. Very professional, very focused. There’s maybe about twenty-five percent that I’m not okay with, though. I think I’d prefer isolation booths for everybody to work in- it’ll keep everyone more on task,” Nicky asserted, Brooke noticing out the corner of her eye how Yvie and Scarlet both recoiled in horror at the thought of not being able to chat and keep each other going throughout the day.

“Okay, so you’d prefer isolation booths in addition to the longer working hours of 8.30am til 7pm, and only half an hour for lunch,” Nina confirmed. Her hair was twice as big and frizzy as it usually was, probably as a result of tearing half of it out in frustration after the amount of hours she’d spent with Nicky.

“Christ, does she want us chained to the phones as well?” Adore mumbled. Brooke immediately tensed up- if she had heard that comment, then Nicky definitely had too. Sure enough, Nicky whipped her head round and stared Adore straight in the eye.

“That’s very funny, but no. I would not be chaining people to phones, I would simply be employing popular and common tactics that are used by employers the world over. Something which you wouldn’t have to worry about, because I wouldn’t have you working for me,” she smiled fake-sweetly, her voice getting more and more clipped as she reached the end of her sentence.

Brooke found herself praying that the opposition would never reach any position of power whatsoever if they were going to have this tiny dictator running the department. Adore had slunk down into her wheely chair, as if trying to make herself invisible. Suddenly, Brooke heard Jackie’s office door open behind her.

“What the hell is going on out here?” she muttered as she reached Brooke’s desk, looking straight at the visitors to the department. Glad of an opportunity to relieve the tension, Nina once again plastered the fake smile on her face.

“Minister, may I introduce your opposite number, Shadow Minister Nicky Doll,” she smiled at Jackie, waving a hand at Nicky as if she was unveiling a booby prize on a game show.

It was interesting to watch how the two women regarded each other. Nicky immediately narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips together in a display of agitation at no longer being the highest authority in the room. She made no show of moving to shake Jackie’s hand, in fact she didn’t appear to want to speak to Jackie at all. Instead, Jackie herself made the first move and stepped forward once, twice, finally reaching a safe distance and holding out a hand for Nicky to shake. Her face was placid and gave nothing away. Almost Sleeping Beauty-esque, Brooke thought.

“Nicky, it’s so good to finally meet you properly,” she smiled calmly as Nicky gingerly took her hand to shake. “I hope you and your team have had a good day in the department?”

“Oh yes, it’s been lovely. Although obviously there are a number of things that will need changed once we get into power!” Nicky gave a fake little laugh, her eyes still hostile.

“Well. If,” Jackie wrinkled her nose in a smile, which Nicky returned sourly.

Brooke was suddenly distracted by a buzz from her phone. Yvie.

Y: Christ there’s more fake smiles in here than the outpatients’ at a fucking plastic surgery

If Brooke had been in the mood she probably would have been howling with laughter, but the tense, uncomfortable conversation was still taking place.

“I found it interesting that you chose to highlight my disagreement with Manila Luzon in your interview with Chad Michaels. I felt it slightly undermined your point about the need to raise other women in politics up when you yourself were clearly intent on taking me down,” Nicky continued to smile falsely, the bitter undertone to her words not going unnoticed by Brooke. Jackie kept calm, smiling lazily back and raising her eyes to the ceiling.

“Oh, I don’t know about undermining my point. In order to make a good argument, you have to present some evidence to back it up, and that’s all I was doing. I’m sure you understand it was nothing personal,” she said, giving a little nod.

Nicky flared her nostrils, her face now unimpressed as she swept a hand through her hair, rendering her bun a little messy. “Well. It was lovely to meet you anyway, Jackie, but I still have numerous issues to talk through with Nina. If you’ll excuse me.”

With that, Nicky turned on her heel, not even bothering to wait for a reply. On her way back to Nina, she stopped to murmur something in Gigi’s ear, which then resulted in Gigi marching round the corner. Brooke could have followed her up, but was too distracted by Jackie coming to hover at her desk.

“Numerous issues? I’ll bet she has numerous fucking issues, God. Let’s hope that lot never get into power, she’s more unhinged than a flat pack IKEA cupboard,” Jackie whispered, causing Brooke to splutter a laugh. Jackie smirked at her reaction, then her face grew suddenly serious. “Did you know if Nina managed to get that photo op cancelled?”

“She did it about half an hour after we spoke. Jan really got on her back about it, so it was pretty impossible for Nina to wriggle out of it,” Brooke explained offhandedly, trying in vain to focus on her work. Looking up, she noticed that Jackie seemed to have a faraway look on her face.

“She’s so good, isn’t she? Jan. She’s just incredible. So organised and on it,” Jackie said quietly to no-one in particular. Confused, Brooke simply nodded. Apparently remembering where she was, Jackie cleared her throat, smoothed her skirt down and returned to her office.

Around ten minutes later, Brooke thought she was making some real headway with the persisting immigration data. That was until she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand come crashing down on her shoulder. Spinning around rapidly in her wheely chair she was shocked to see Bianca looming above her, her face grave as her eyes met Brooke’s.

“Bianca, holy fuck. You scared the crap out of me,” Brooke sighed, Bianca not even cracking a smile as her grip on Brooke’s shoulder tightened and she escorted her out of the room. Brooke’s stomach churned as she was led out into the corridor. What the hell was happening, or what the hell had happened, or what the hell was about to happen?

The bright white light of the corridor contrasted violently with Bianca’s expression, which was the personification of the wrath of God itself. She was silent for a moment, which prompted Brooke to tentatively speak first.

“So, um. Why did you want to see-”

“I want to know why a certain Sasha Belle over at transport now has the very same PR stunt I very nearly passed a kidney stone to secure for Jackie,” Bianca snapped. Her voice was cold and low, and Brooke felt goosebumps prickle over her skin just hearing her speak. She felt conflicted. Half of her wanted to reveal Jackie’s personal reasons for having backed out; it was a legitimate excuse and might even make Bianca feel some form of remorse, God willing. On the other hand, it was a part of Jackie’s life which Brooke was sure she wanted to leave behind, and if more and more people knew about it, well. That would make it increasingly hard to forget. Biting her lip, she tried to tell a white lie.

“She had personal reasons for backing out. We decided as her team of advisors that it would be best if she didn’t go through with it.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what deeply held personal fucking reasons she had against it, it is her JOB to go to photo ops, it is her JOB to give herself media coverage!”

“Well she couldn’t even if you wanted her to. Not legally anyway,” Brooke found herself saying, her voice too loud in the echoey hallway. Bianca raised her eyebrows a little, as if urging Brooke to go on. Slightly regretting having not simply kept her mouth shut, Brooke continued.

“Jackie had her driving license revoked. It was years ago- she was texting while driving and crashed on the motorway. So even if she wanted to do the damn publicity, she couldn’t,” she explained, sighing as Bianca’s face slowly took on a look of realisation. “I don’t know how you didn’t already know this, Bianca. Her license was fake, I don’t get how that slipped by you. I thought you did background checks on everyone that came within a five mile radius of the party.”

Bianca exhaled loudly, slowly running one hand down her face. She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it, then opened it again.

“When I asked you about Jackie, it wasn’t just a casual, out-of-interest enquiry. We were seriously fucking desperate. We had nothing on her, nothing on her at all apart from the fact that we knew she had a degree in politics and she’d been around the stock exchange for years. We were just desperate to get Darienne out of the party and stop the fucking spiral of madness she was driving us all down. Her position had become toxic, Brooke Lynn, nobody we approached about the job would touch it. So we needed somebody unknown, someone who wouldn’t know or understand who she was succeeding. That’s why we failed to do intensive background checks. I mean, we established that Jackie hadn’t murdered or stabbed anyone, for Christ’s sake. But everything else we had to skim over. We couldn’t have had Darienne in her job for any longer, it would have just…it would have just killed the party.”

Brooke could sort of understand where Bianca was coming from. Taking a calming breath, she suddenly felt the panic rise up in her throat again. “But Bianca, if this gets to the papers-”

Bianca cut her off, holding a single hand up in front of her face and looking down the corridor with suspicion. Wordlessly, she walked to the double doors at the end of the corridor and wrenched them open. Behind them stood Gigi, who jumped at the sudden movement.

“Oh. Hello Bianca. I was just, uh. Trying to find the toilets. This department is like a damn labyrinth, you know?” she laughed awkwardly, almost paralysed under Bianca’s glare.

“Do you want a massive cup to press against the door too, or are you good?” she quipped dryly.

Brooke’s heart began to palpitate nervously. Gigi had clearly been behind that door and listening for quite some time. How long, she didn’t know. But if she’d heard the reason why Jackie couldn’t drive, this was all different kinds, shades, textures and flavours of bad.

“Bianca, really. All I heard was that Jackie wasn’t exactly vetted properly. Which, you know, could be kind of a big story in itself, I think,” Gigi smiled cunningly. All at once, Brooke wanted to laugh. Attempting to get the upper hand on Bianca Del Rio was an interesting tactic, one which basically ensured you weren’t going to win. Deciding to step back, Brooke let Bianca take the reins.

“Oh, I see! You were looking for a story! Well here, here’s a great one for you,” Bianca smiled sinisterly, putting Brooke in mind of a predator about to pounce. “Did you know that Jaqueline Cox is sitting in that office there despite the fact her driving license got revoked? She crashed her car on the motorway because she tried to text and drive at the same time. Did you not know that?”

Brooke watched as Gigi’s face lit up at the revelation. She had to admit she didn’t really know where Bianca was going with this or what she had to gain from revealing the information to one of the Shadow Minister’s aides. As Brooke attempted to interject, Bianca simply turned and fixed her with a smile.

“You didn’t know that, no?” she asked Gigi again. She simply shook her head, delighted at what had just been revealed. “Oh, wait, of course…you wouldn’t know that! Because the only people who do know that are, um, Miss Cox…her three advisors…and me. If this information got to the press…I would know that it came from you.”

Brooke wanted to practically jump for joy as she saw Gigi’s face fall, growing very apprehensive as Bianca took two steps towards her. Her voice lowering, Bianca continued the onslaught.

“And I would rain down upon you so hard that your body would have to be re-assembled by crash team investigators-” she hissed. Gigi opened her mouth to defend herself and Bianca immediately stopped her. “- do not fucking interrupt me, girl. Now, you breathe a word of this to ANYONE, you fucking living toothpick, and I will-”

Already shaking with laughter, Brooke ducked her head out of the door and ran into the offices.

“Jan! ‘Ness! Come quick. Bianca’s going off on one at Gigi,” she stage-whispered, the two girls looking up, bemused but quickly following Brooke back to the corridor doors nonetheless. The double doors were fronted with a small pane of clear glass, which the three girls all peered through to see Bianca continuing to verbally grill Gigi, now far less composed than she was before.

“…I will eviscerate you, right? And I mean, I don’t have your education, I don’t know what that means. But I’ll start by plucking your eyes out and I’ll busk it from there. Okay? Glad we’re agreed. Have a great day.”

As Gigi stumbled back down the hall in a daze as if she’d just crawled out of an avalanche, the three girls on the other side of the door tried to compose themselves after their laughing fit.

“Bianca has such a way with words,” Jan mused, wiping tears from her eyes. “So why was she yelling at Gigi, what had she done? Looked at her?”

Brooke explained what had happened to the two girls, watching as their facial expressions shifted from confused, to fearful, then some semblance of reassured. There was still an aspect that was a little panicked, however, the knowledge that Gigi knew about Jackie’s past clearly worrying them both.  

“Look, don’t give it too much thought. Bianca has it all under control. She always does,” Brooke reassured them, shrugging as she walked back to her desk.

“Guess I’m happy to trust Bianca,” Vanessa smiled, relaxing a little. “Hey, you ladies had lunch yet?”

“Not yet. Pret?” Brooke offered, Vanessa smiling beautifully and picking up her bag from her chair. Brooke didn’t miss how Jan simply nodded silently, her face still troubled, clearly not as trusting of Bianca as Vanessa was.

***

As the three girls sat huddled around Jan’s desk eating their lunch, Brooke watched as Vanessa scoffed down her messy meatball panini with marinara sauce and mozzarella cheese that oozed out the side and made long, inconvenient strings. She could have teased Vanessa for her shambles of a lunch but she decided against it, instead choosing to compliment her.

“‘Ness, how can you eat literally whatever you want and still look so good?” Brooke asked, attempting to look offhanded but still feeling like her guts were made of jelly as the words came out her mouth. It was hugely tiresome how much more nervous and self-aware she was around Vanessa now that she’d actually acknowledged her crush on her. It was much harder to pretend things were purely platonic if she gave her a compliment.

In response, Vanessa simply smiled bashfully and shrugged, her mouth full of food. “Hey, I always wonder the same thing about you, baby. I’d kill to look like you.”

“With these thighs? Girl, no you wouldn’t,” Brooke snorted, trying to keep herself from blushing.

“You got good thighs,” Vanessa insisted, making Brooke wonder just how much attention Vanessa paid to her legs. Snapping out of it, Brooke told herself that she was probably just being kind. After a beat of silence, Jan cut in.

“Well, I know both of you find me wildly attractive and are also madly jealous of my amazing figure, which is why neither of you have said anything,” she joked through a mouthful of salmon salad. Brooke gave her a playful shove, shocked when she heard a little cry.

“Jesus, Jan! It wasn’t that sore.”

“That wasn’t me. That came from Jackie’s office,” Jan said gravely, looking at the Minister’s office door where she could just see the blonde bun belonging to Nicky peering over the strip of frosted glass. Exchanging concerned looks, all three girls made their way over.

Brooke was the first to walk in and when her gaze met Jackie’s her heart sank. She was sitting behind her desk and had turned pale, her eyes frightened and huge in her face which had gone almost ghostly white. Turning her gaze to Nicky she noticed that the girl seemed smug in some way, as if she had the upper hand. In a moment, Brooke knew exactly what had happened.

Gigi had spilled.

“Miss Doll, you ain’t actually allowed in here. This is the Minister’s private office,” Vanessa began in a valiant effort to stick up for Jackie who was clearly past sticking up for herself.

“Oh, it’s quite alright. Jackie and I were just having a little chat. A little reminisce on the past, if you like. Well. Her past,” Nicky smiled, casting an amused gaze at Jackie whose face was ashen and defeated as she sat at her desk. Brooke suddenly felt herself overcome with fury.

“I hope you’re giving Gigi a big pay rise for that information. She won’t have much time to spend it though once Bianca finds out. I’d maybe give her two…three days left to live?” she hissed, her face contorted as she glared at the shadow minister.

“Brooke Lynn, is it?” Nicky addressed her, Brooke momentarily wondering how she knew her name. “Brooke Lynn. We all know what it’s like in politics. Unfortunately if someone has some information on someone else, it’s only natural that they’re going to exploit it. And that’s all that’s happening here! It’s not personal. Just professional.”

“Like hell are you exploiting anything,” Jan spat, her face dark. Come to think of it, Brooke had never really seen her so angry, but the tiny girl was like a spitfire as she narrowed her eyes at her old boss. “You know full well where to draw the line between personal and political information. If you leak this to the media then you’re more reprehensible than the party you represent.”

“I’m sorry ladies, but this is how you play the game, and I play to win. I’m not really prepared to discuss it any further,” Nicky rolled her eyes, picking up her bag from where it sat on Jackie’s desk.

Just as she made to leave, Nicky turned to see Bianca standing in the doorway of Jackie’s office, glancing with confusion at the scene in front of her.

“Bianca!” Vanessa cried, for once happy to see the Prime Minister’s enforcer. “We were just talkin’ about how Nicky maybe shouldn’t go to the papers about Jackie…? Telling them about her driving license? Tryin’ to think of a reason why this would reflect badly on her party in some way…?”

Brooke watched as Vanessa looked pleadingly at Bianca, willing her to do something, anything to spin them out of the situation. Bianca for her part seemed calm, upbeat even.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe she should! Good idea!” she shrugged, flashing a smile Nicky’s way as she turned and made to leave the room.

Vanessa’s face immediately dropped as if she’d been slapped. Jan’s expression was completely blank. Brooke didn’t know what to think. It seemed as if Jackie was holding her breath, and Nicky simply stood rooted to the spot, her eyes still on Bianca as if she knew there was more to come. Sure enough, Bianca reached the doorframe, stopped, and turned on her heel.

“Oh, shit, wait a minute! I know why she shouldn’t! Because you know, if she did that…she’d be dead,” Bianca said simply.

Brooke watched as Nicky blinked silently at her. Bianca continued to speak.

“To me. To her advisors. To her party. To the electorate. And the only job she’d get in power is for this government’s catering company sweeping up crumbs as a kitchen cleaner, because I’d call every journalist I know, which of course- that’s all of them! Isn’t it Nicole! And I’d tell them all that lovely little story I’ve had saved for a rainy day, about a certain Right Honourable Lord Doll- how is your Dad, by the way?- and how he enjoyed a lovely five years as a member of the Bullingdon Club at university, a club so fucking morally bankrupt they had a exposé film made about them! Of course, the homeless person your Dad had to burn money in the face of for his initiation- he didn’t enjoy it so much. Nor did the live pigeon he had to bite the head off of either. And I believe there’s also rumblings about…something about a pig, which I won’t go into. And so I’d quite happily email all these journalists any photos and soundbites and CCTV footage they wanted, because I’d say…I’d say that’s quite a big story. I’d say that would probably contest a Minister’s silly little eight-year-old car accident in the running order of the ten o’clock news. That’s what I’d tell her,” Bianca finally finished calmly, smiling a little at Nicky whose mouth was now hanging open like a goldfish. Turning to Vanessa, Bianca simply nodded on her way out of the door. “But maybe you should tell her!”

Catching Vanessa’s eye, Brooke couldn’t help but burst into a triumphant grin. Vanessa returned the smile, now completely relaxed knowing that Jackie had the upper hand. Nicky was still standing completely still and hadn’t moved since Bianca had left.

“I’ll, um. I’ll ask Nina to get your coat,” Jackie addressed Nicky pleasantly, sitting at her desk and pushing a single number on the phone as Nicky simply nodded wordlessly.

Brooke wanted to burst out laughing. Bianca had her enemies in Westminster, but she was also an absolute mastermind.

***

They had made it through the day. They always did, after all. They were a great team, Brooke thought, and God help them if they were ever disbanded in any way. Sitting in a quieter corner of the office with her head tipped against the head of the sofa, Brooke took a deep breath. It was often needed at the end of days like these. Jan sat to her right, curled up against the arm of the couch and simply staring into the distance. Thinking for a moment, Brooke turned her head and stared at Jan.

“Do you think Bianca really had all that stuff to back up what she said about Nicky’s Dad?”

Jan smirked and met Brooke’s eyes. “It’s Bianca. She’s a walking, talking database. She probably has shit on all of us. She probably knows stuff about us that we haven’t even done yet.”

Before Brooke could even try to get her head around Jan’s words, Vanessa joined them. She flung herself against the sofa dramatically, gently tilting her head so that it rested in the crook of Brooke’s shoulder. For a second she could barely breathe.

“I wonder what she’s going to do to Gigi when she next sees her. Can’t imagine I’d want to be in her six-inch heels right now,” Brooke continued, trying to talk through her breathlessness.

“We talkin’ about Bianca?” Vanessa murmured, nuzzling her head against Brooke’s shoulder to get comfortable. Christ, why the fuck did she have to do that?

“Yeah,” Jan smiled wistfully. “God, I’d be running for the hills if I was her. Alyssa’s charity ball is in three weeks, remember? I wouldn’t put it past Bianca to stage a live crucifixion as the night’s entertainment.”

Brooke felt Vanessa laugh softly against her side. She was such a warm, happy person, at least when she wasn’t stressing her head off at the latest party shambles. She was too good to be working here, but Brooke was so glad that she was.

“So you’re not going to be ditching us to run back to the opposition anytime soon then? Not going to be meeting up with Gigi and Crystal for a cute little catch-up coffee?” Brooke only half-joked, turning to address Jan again. She watched as Jan’s face grew a little dark, her brow furrowing as she let out a derisive laugh.

“I’m not fucking with anyone who attempts to sabotage Jackie’s career,” she said forebodingly.

There it was again, Brooke thought, this protective side to Jan which she’d never really seen before. She didn’t think she’d ever get over how strange it was.

Footsteps behind the sofa prompted all three of them to turn around. It was Jackie- she’d freshened up her makeup a little and had sprayed some deodorant or perfume or something that smelt nice. Reaching the sofa, she gave a warm smile to the three girls.

“Thanks for your support today, ladies,” she said sincerely, leaning on the back of the sofa. “It was a tough one, but we got there in the end.”

“Sorry that Nina couldn’t arrange an alternative bit of PR in time, Jackie,” Vanessa smiled apologetically. Jackie let out a small laugh.

“Are you kidding? That was a blessing in disguise. After the day I’ve had the last thing I want to do is go and feign interest in electric cars for an hour,” she shook her head. “Seriously though, thank you. You three are a total blessing.”

Brooke was surprised when she then turned to face Jan, her expression turning a little shy. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, two minutes. I need to pack up and I’ll be good,” Jan smiled timidly back at her, her cheeks going a little red.

“Okay. I’ll wait at the lifts. See you tomorrow, girls,” Jackie said finally, waving goodbye to Brooke and Vanessa before walking away.

Vanessa tipped her head off Brooke’s shoulder to lean forward and look at Jan, who was grabbing her coat. “Where are you two off to then, Miss Ma’am?”

Jan stopped in her tracks, as if she hadn’t really been expecting the question. “Oh! Um, Jackie’s just giving me a lift home.”

Brooke screwed up her face at her friend. “A lift home? In her car? That she drives? Is that meant to be a joke?”

Seemingly realising her mistake, Jan smiled and shook her head. “I meant her driver. Her driver’s going to drop me home on the way back to Jackie’s.”

Brooke sat blankly for a moment, turning to Vanessa and seeing her face hold the exact same expression. Vanessa laughed in disbelief. “Your flat’s five minutes away, you lazy shit!”

“Hey, give me a break! I’m exhausted, a five minute walk is still a walk I don’t want to do, and I’ll take what I can get,” Jan shrugged, grabbing her bag and making to leave. “Bye, girls. See you both tomorrow.”

Brooke gave a tired reply as Jan made her way out of the department. Sighing, Vanessa leant against the arm of the sofa, kicking her legs over Brooke’s lap and subsequently causing Brooke’s pulse to quicken by about 90%. They sat in silence for a moment, Brooke’s brain too full to even contemplate starting a conversation. Luckily, it was Vanessa that spoke first.

“Do you think something’s goin’ on there? Between Jackie and Jan?”

Brooke paused. If it were any other situation, she’d maybe have thought Vanessa was right. But this was work, and sometimes people got incredibly passionate about their party and the people that ran it. Jan had had to put up with Nicky, and then Darienne. It was only natural that now that she was finally working for someone competent of course she was going to want with every fibre of her being for that person to do well. Turning to face Vanessa, Brooke made a doubtful face.

“No, girl. Jan’s just loyal. She wants to see Jackie do well. That’s all I think it is anyway.”

Brooke watched as Vanessa knit her brows together, frowning momentarily then casting her gaze into her lap.

“You know-” she began, then cut herself off as she decided against saying whatever she had to say. Then, changing her mind, she began again. “I swear you’re so blind half the time, Brooke Lynn. I think you have your guard up so high you can’t even see when someone has feelings for someone else. It’s kinda…I don’t know. Anyway. It don’t matter.”

Brooke watched, astounded as Vanessa swung her legs off her lap and stood up. Her face was bright red, as if she was embarrassed in some way. Brooke felt she had to reply, but she had no idea what to say or how to respond. She simply blinked at Vanessa, as if her last ditch attempt at communication was morse code.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” Vanessa continued, smoothing down her dress and smiling as if she hadn’t said a thing. Going along with the façade, Brooke nodded slowly. “Bye, Brooke.”

As Vanessa’s footsteps retreated down the office and into the lift, Brooke just stared straight ahead and tried to make sense of what Vanessa had said, or what it even meant, or what the implications were. It had felt like she was mad at her in some way, although Brooke couldn’t figure out what she’d done. What had she meant by it all? It made Brooke’s head hurt.

She was still there when the cleaners arrived half an hour later, and she still hadn’t managed to unscramble her brain. Giving up, Brooke grabbed her coat and bag and made her way to the lifts, stuck with the feeling that somehow she’d left something behind.