#i got a like from someone who had in their bio 'i only drink local coffee so if you ask me to a starbucks date i already hate you'

[feeshies]

i know someone like me can't afford to be too picky when it comes to dating, but i think i developed a new dating profile pet peeve and it's:

when someone writes like they're already assuming the worst of you and now you have to prove them wrong

[bureli]

Elijah Burgos Werewolf

Age: 39

Occupation: Crestle's Pet and Rescue, Animal Nutritionist 

Gender: Cismale 

Pronouns: He/Him 

Pack/Coven: Silverbrook Pack 

Face Claim: Josh Segarra

Bio

Elijah is a Crestle Cove native, but he hasn’t always lived in the seaside town. Elijah grew up with a younger brother and his granny, his mother coming and going from town as she pleased, until one day she just didn’t return.

He loved his brother and grandmother, but living in Crestle Cove had begun to feel suffocating; his shoulders weighed heavy with the expectation to be a good brother and grandson, gradually he grew to resent his circumstances. 

When he was twenty five Elijah took off to explore the world, his deciding to leave drove a wedge between him and his brother. He felt guilty for the animosity that was beginning to sprout, but he thirsted for knowledge and distance from the dreary town.

He went from one side of the earth to the other, his trips keeping him away from Crestle Cove for seven years; in this time he got a degree in nutrition and animal science as well as learned to hone and control his wolf instincts. Things were great, but they would have been better had his brother not abruptly cut off contact. Elijah couldn’t blame him for being bitter.

The older Burgos returned to his hometown when his grandmother’s health took a drastic turn, things weren’t looking good and it seemed it was only a matter of time before her passing. Upon returning, Elijah could feel a heavy tension in the town’s air. Things were happening, things that would surely displace Crestle Cove’s peace. He was suddenly not only increasingly worried for the health of his grandmother, but also his younger brother’s; what situation had Elijah left him alone in?

Using his acquired education Elijah got himself established at the local vet, and though he had enjoyed his time on his own, he integrated himself into the Silverbrook pack. He appreciated their calm demeanors and the value they placed on the environment, he felt sure he could serve the community the way he wished with their help.

Wanted Connections

Ex’s - I’d like two ex’s for Elijah, the first ex from before he moved away(he was twenty five when he moved). This person will probably also be a local that he either knew growing up or they got to know each other while he was in his early twenties. This probably ended because they were still young, and just exploring love and relationships, I don’t imagine Elijah thinking this relationship would go far. The second ex would be after he returned from traveling(he was thirty two when he returned), so this person could be a local or someone who moved to the town later. I haven’t settled on a reason why this coupling didn’t last so we can brainstorm this, but I vaguely imagine he just had too much on his plate after returning that he couldn’t commit himself to this relationship and felt the two were eventually just going through the motions.

Fellow Local Friends - Elijah is a sweet guy, so I don’t imagine many people dislike him(though i’m open for this kind of connection). They’ll probably be people he was close to before he left and is eager to get reacquainted with now that he’s been back. We can put more detail in their individual friendships(drinking buddies, childhood friends, work friends, etc.)

Healer - As mentioned above Elijah came back because his grandmother was very sick, she had managed to hold on despite the odds. Seven years later granny Burgos is still in Crestle Cove, but this was only made possible by the help of a witch who was able to help her where doctors couldn't. Elijah and his family have gotten close to this person because of all they help they have provided them, Elijah sees this person as someone he can greatly trust.

@crestlecovehq

[mandoalorian]

Pain Is For The Living [Javier Peña x F!Reader] - Chapter 3

Summary: Sex work in the heat of 1980’s Colombia was never going to be a walk in the park. Especially not when you had a crush on your number one client, agent Javier Peña. You’d been warned about him and his reputation, but after one very specific incident that would change your life forever, you find yourself attached to him like never before and you’d do anything to make him yours. Even if it means endangering your own life.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Javier being kind of an asshole, allusions to sex, a ~moment~ in the bathtub, mention of PTSD and trauma, food mention, drink mention, ...feelings?

Word count: 4200

Author’s Note: It’s been so long! I’m sorry. It’s been pretty hectic and I’ve been doing my best to wrap up my other series’ and complete requests. I appreciate you all for sticking around and asking for updates on this chapter. I’ve mentioned it a few times, but PIFTL is very difficult to write. It deals with very sensitive issues and so not only can it be mentally draining to write, it takes a lot of time to research and edit. I won’t give up on this series though. I adore this story and can’t wait to share it all with you.

Pain Is For The Living Masterlist

* Reblogs appreciated and my ko-fi is linked in my bio if you wish to support my writing!

Nina pushed off Javi quicker than a bullet leaving a gun, grabbing a blanket from her bed and wrapping it around her naked body. “What the fuck Javier?” she spat.

Jesus Christ -- Javier had never made that mistake before. Moaning someone else’s name? He was better than that. It took him a moment to just process what happened, Nina’s yelling and accusations only a blur in the background. “Who is she, Javier?” Nina questioned, her tone venomous. That was enough to snap the agent out of his thoughts. Her cold eyes burned like wildfire as she glared at him. “Who. Is. She?”

“Uh…” Javier racked his brains to try and figure out a way he’d be able to save this situation. But the longer he took to answer Nina’s question, the more infuriated she got. “Informant.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie. You’d agreed to help him. But whether or not you’d actually be able to provide Javier with any relevant information was a different ordeal in itself.

“You’re still sleeping with your informants?” Nina gasped a little, clicking her tongue and shaking her head in disappointment. “Why am I not surprised?”

Javier sighed and rolled his eyes, pulling himself off Nina’s bed and grabbing his denim jeans that had been previously discarded on the floor. “C’mon Ni, don’t get jealous now. We haven’t been together for like, a year.” Javier hummed, zipping up his pants. His eyes darted around the room as he tried to locate his shirt. Maybe there was no fixing this. For a split second, he’d forgotten why things had ended with Nina, but now it was becoming clear again. He just had to get outta there. He needed air, and a smoke. 

“I let you cum inside of me and you moan out another woman’s name!” Nina exclaimed, shaking her fists in the air. “Javier Peña I fucking hate you!”

Javier offered Nina a small shrug of his shoulders before finding his shirt and buttoning it up. “I’ll see you around Ni.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Called him seventeen times Con, he’s taking the piss.” Steve grimaced, aggressively flicking to the next page of the Bogotá local newspaper.

“Will you just calm down? He’s our friend. We’re doing him a favour. He'll be back soon,” Connie sighed, glancing back over to you, where you had been sleeping on the sofa for the past two and a half hours. “She sleeps better than our Liv,” Connie noted. “Wish we could sleep as well as that.”

Steve hummed in agreement. “I’ll go check on Liv.” He announced at the mention of his daughter. He’d put her down for a nap about an hour ago in Javier’s bedroom.

“No honey, I’ll go. You keep working on your crossword,” Connie giggled before pointing her index finger into one of the blank squares. “Fourteen down: Los huevos revueltos.” 

“I would’ve got that,” Steve huffed, scrambling to write the answer down. He definitely would not have. The Spanish puzzle was made for infants and yet he was still struggling.

“Whatever Murph.” Connie rolled her eyes, leaving the table where they were both sitting at. 

The second she left the room, you woke up in a cold sweat, feeling dizzy and shaking from a nightmare you didn’t want to remember. Your cheeks were wet, tear stained and goose pimples pricked at your arms. You checked your surroundings in a fluster, not recognising the brown leather couch you were laying on, or the oak wood coffee table in front of you, or even the television pushed against the cream coloured walls. A man with blonde hair and mustache raced over to you, and dropped to his knees, holding you by your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” The man quizzed, his blue eyes searching to meet yours. You were horrified, the feeling of an unfamiliar man grabbing you like this. You screamed in terror, and defensively dug your fingernails into his skin. The man yelped out and stumbled back from you, hitting the coffee table in the process. “Fuck-- shit-- ow--” He gasped. “Connie!” he called. “Connie, she's awake!”

The way he yelled and screamed your name... it was like you were some kind of monster. You hated it.

The sound of footsteps padding into the living room alerted you, and a woman, not much older than you, knelt down in front of you. But unlike the man, she knew well enough to keep her distance. “Hi sweetheart, are you alright? I’m Connie, don’t be afraid. You’re okay.” she assured you, her voice sweet like honey. 

“Where am I?” you choked out, tears filling your eyes. 

Connie hesitated for a moment. “She doesn’t remember where she is?” Steve asked Connie with concern, scratching the back of his neck as he pulled himself together and shuffled over to you. Taking a note out of Connie’s book, he kept his distance. Connie briefly explained to her husband how your behaviour right now actually made a lot of sense, and how victims of PTSD can often have ‘memory blanks’.

“Darling, I’m Connie Murphy. I’m a nurse. And this is my husband Steve. Steve is DEA. He’s friends with Javier Peña. You know that name, right? Javier Peña.” She repeated his name slow and steady, allowing you to take your time to process the words. Javier Peña. Just like that, a wave of calmness washed over you. His name felt like home. It felt like safety. 

“I know Javi.” you whispered in admittance, shuffling around on the sofa. You could feel your lips trembling. It was strange. You were new to Bogotá, and you didn’t really have any friends, other than the late Rosa. And well, Javier too. He was a client, sure, but he was always kind and gentle with you, unlike your other customers. You’d like to think of him as a friend. Right now, he was the only person you had. 

“This is Javier’s place. He’s going to watch over you for a little while, okay?” Connie explained. “We are your friends and we’re not going to hurt you. I promise,” the lady soothed. She turned to Steve. “Bring over Olivia.”

“What-- why?” Steve quizzed, his eyebrows furrowing together in bewilderment.

“She needs to know she can trust us. Bring over Olivia,” Begrudgingly following his wife’s instruction, a wary Steve stood up and padded into Javier’s bedroom where Olivia had been left to sleep in a small, transportable crib. He picked up his daughter and carried her into the living room. “This is my daughter Olivia,” Connie told you quietly, smoothing out Olivia’s black hair. “She’s one year old. Would you like to hold her?”

“Connie are you fucking crazy?” Steve snapped.

“I’m a fucking nurse Steve, I know what I’m doing.” Connie hissed back, taking Olivia from her father. She looked back over to you and her deep frown turned into a comforting smile as she slowly handed you the baby. Connie’s hands never left Olivia, and she made an effort to support her head as you cradled the sleeping baby in your arms.

Holding Olivia Murphy gave you a feeling of responsibility. If Steve and Connie were dangerous, they would never have shown you their daughter, let alone allow you to hold her in your arms. You contemplated everything and although it was hard, you decided that you probably could trust them. Still, it raised the question: “Where is Javi?”

Steve shook his head incredulously and stood up, grabbing the phone from one of the side tables and dialling his partner’s number again. You didn’t know what was wrong with the blonde haired agent, but you got the impression that he did not want to be here.

“Steve is going to call him, again. He went to get groceries. I’m sure he won’t be long.” Connie informed softly, and you nodded your head. 

“Your baby is adorable,” you announced quietly and Connie smiled, thankful you were beginning to talk a little more. Seemingly, you’d calmed down, which meant Connie’s comforting approach had worked.

“She’s a real gem, isn’t she?”

Javier was just a couple of blocks away when his carphone began to ring. He eyed up the display and read the ‘17 missed calls’, cursing under his breath. He clicked the accept button and continued to drive.

“Javier Peña. You prick.”

“Hi bestie.” Javier grinned, shaking his head at Steve’s introduction. Typical.

“You left us here for three fucking hours with some random girl -- who, by the way, is incredibly unstable, Javier. I don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, but I’m not here for it. Where the fuck have you been? No, forget that. You better be home in the next ten minutes and you better have the ingredients for my fucking paella.” Steve growled before angrily slamming the phone down on the hook.

Javier couldn’t help but chuckle. Steve Murphy was ever the drama queen.

As he drove down the street, he made one final attempt to shrug off what had happened with Nina. Okay, yeah, saying your name was a little uncalled for. But she always got so needy and possessive -- even when she had no reason to be. Nina and Javier weren’t exclusive and hadn’t been for a long time, so, what was her deal?

What was even more concerning to Javi, was the fact he said your name in the first place. Nina looked rather similar to you. Not identical, but from a distance, there was a chance she could’ve been mistaken. Only, when he was pounding into her from behind, he wasn’t at a distance. In fact he couldn’t have been any closer, and yet he still said your name. He was really struggling to justify it. 

Sure, he’d been thinking about you when he was inside of her. But was that really so bad? You were clearly on his mind, and Javier just pinned that down to the fact he’d been out all day investigating the crime scene at the brothel. He’d been with you, he’d held you and comforted you. Fuck, even before noon he had been fucking your mouth. It wasn’t exactly unreasonable…

But moaning out your name… shit, could Javier really get past that? Was there any way to justify that -- other than the blatant and glaring honest reason that Javier refused to admit. He wouldn’t even let his mind go there. Whatever, it was fine. He was home now. The end of a long day.

Javier grabbed the groceries from the back of his car and buzzed himself into the DEA apartment block where he and Steve were living. Making his way over to his apartment, he opened the front door and set the brown paper bag of ingredients down on the kitchen counter. When he got home, Connie was just finishing up painting your nails a beautiful sea blue gel colour. She turned around and she looked up at Javier. Your eyes, however, were already fixated on him the second he entered the room.

“Where’s Steve?” Javier asked, diverting his gaze from the two women and continuing to unpack the food. 

“He went home. He’s pissed, Javi.” Connie admitted, shaking her head in annoyance and placing the pot of nail polish on the coffee table. She walked into the open space kitchen and nudged the agent.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Javier muttered, stacking the canned goods into a cupboard.

“I’m going home, but don’t think we’ve forgotten about the paella. Steve wants that fucking paella,” Connie chastised. Javier nodded his head but remained silent as he emptied his bag of shopping. “Unbelievable.” Connie scoffed incredulously, and opened the front door before slamming it behind her.

“Thanks Con!” Javier called, but there was no telling if she even heard.

Javier was half way through putting his shopping away when he heard your meek and softly spoken voice call his name in a questioning tone. His dark eyes looked over at you. You were sitting upright on the sofa and his face softened. Stopping what he was doing, he neglected the bag of groceries and padded into the living room to sit down next to you. 

“Hi.” Javier murmured, crossing his legs and adjusting the crochet blanket that was covering your lap. 

“Hi.” you replied, feeling somewhat shy and slightly nervous, for a reason you couldn’t quite place.

“How are you feeling?” Javier asked, bringing himself to look at you.

“Um,” you fumbled at the blanket and thought for a moment. It was a loaded question. Other than the overwhelming feeling of distress and helplessness, you decided to give the agent a simple answer. “Well rested. A little thirsty.” 

Javier nodded. “How would you feel about taking a bath?”

You swallowed back a knot in your throat that you hadn’t even realised was there in the first place. “...Do I smell?” you asked, You stretched out and gave your underarms a sniff, prompting Javier to burst out into laughter. Shit, had you always been that adorable? Your nose scrunched up at the distinct smell of dried up blood on your clothes and your shoulders slumped sadly. Javi, noticing your change in demeanor, gently lifted up the blanket and wrapped it around your body.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he cooed. “Believe me, I get stinky too. It happens. Let me help you take a bath. Come with me.”

Taking his hand, Javier navigated you towards the bathroom. It was a small boxy room with barely any space to move around, and yet, to your surprise, it fit a bathtub. Javier twisted the faucet, and the tap began to run warm water. He picked up a bottle of bubble bath and a tub of salts. “I have a bad back,” Javier told you. “These salts really help me relax. And the bubbles are nice too.”

You nodded with a smile. As he emptied the contents into the tub, you watched the products swirl into a colourful abyss. “It smells like you.” you uttered, without really thinking about the weight of your words. Javier said nothing, and you both sat by the side of the tub in comfortable silence, watching as it filled up. He occasionally dipped his hand in the water, checking the temperature.

“Will you be okay?” Javier asked you, taking out a towel and folding it up on top of the toilet seat.

You weren’t really sure, but you nodded your head anyway. Just as he was about to leave, you spoke up again. “Actually, Javi, could you stay?”

Javier fumbled a little but smiled. “Yeah, of course.”

Javier had seen you naked countless times due to the nature of your job but for some reason, this time, it felt different. He’d never had a woman use his bathtub before, let alone be requested to stay in her presence as she got undressed and stepped inside. You slipped out of your sultry, blood stained dress and let it pool to the floor. Javi’s mouth parted as he took in your naked form under the amber tinted bathroom lights. 

You stepped inside the tub and almost slipped over, but Javier, as quick as lightning, grabbed your arm and steadied you. “Sorry,” he muttered, and your hand slid into his. As your fingers interlocked, you felt something. It was like a bolt of electricity, running up your arm, and judging by Javier’s reaction, he could feel it too. “I should’ve warned you. It can be a little slippery.”

You giggled and tried to tear yourself from Javi’s grip, but he didn’t let go of you once. Instead,  he helped you sit down comfortably amongst the bubbles and aromatic hot water. You moaned, feeling your body become indulged and your muscles soften. You smiled and laid back, the bubbles fizzing around your neck and chin, and Javier felt his heart swell in his chest as he noticed your lips curl into a smile. It was the smile he would kill to see, and he hadn’t even realised how much he missed it.

“Just relax,” Javier soothed. “I’ll be back faster than you can count to ten.”

Javier ran into the kitchen and took a glass from one of the cupboards before racing back to the bathroom. Kneeling down by the side of the tub, he dipped the glass into the water, filling it up, and gently emptied it down your hair. 

“Close your eyes,” he requested, continuing to wet your hair ample enough until it was ready to be shampooed. Taking the bottle of his musky scented shampoo, Javier squirted the thick liquid into your scalp and began to massage it in. You couldn’t believe how gentle he was, and how he was taking his time with you. You’d never in a million years imagine Javier Peña being like this, or acting this intimate, with any woman -- especially not you. To be honest, his own behaviours were even coming to shock Javier. But he just let his instincts take over. He wanted to protect you and make sure you knew just how safe you were. That was the most important thing on his mind.

Once he rinsed your hair, he grabbed some soap and a sponge, handing them to you. “Do you uh-- uh-- do you think you can wash your own body?” He asked, his dark eyebrows knitting together. “If not, that’s okay. I can help. But--”

You smiled and rested a wet hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay Javi. I’ll be fine.” you promised, taking the sponge from him. 

“I’m going to find you some clothes to change into.” He told you. “Shout if you need me. I won’t be long.”

And he stuck by his word. Javier raked through his drawers and picked out a pale yellow button down shirt that he hadn’t worn in a few years and a pair of boxer shorts. Padding back into the bathroom, he presented you with them. “It’s not much but it’s all I have,” he told you. “I’m sure Con will take you out shopping at some point. Or we can hop on back to your place tomorrow to grab some of your stuff,” You smiled and stood up, making sure to be careful not to slip this time. Javier held out the towel for you and wrapped you in it. “I’ll leave you to get dried.”

When Javier went back into the kitchen, he figured he should put the rest of the groceries away, only to notice that the once frozen paella ingredients had become defrosted and been rendered completely useless. “Shit.” Javier cursed, pushing them to one side and running a hand through his hair. Looks like after all of this, he couldn’t make paella tonight. He knew he was about to get an earful from Steve at work tomorrow.

“Do you like pizza?” Javier called, rummaging around for a take-out menu and grabbing his phone from the counter.

“I do!” you called back, buttoning up Javier’s shirt and wrapping a towel around your head.

When you padded into the kitchen, dressed in Javi’s clothes, the agent felt his throat dry up. You were a sight to behold. You smelt distinctly like him, but you already looked one thousand times better now that you were clean and comfortable. You felt better, too. It was amazing what a bath could do to you. You shimmied onto one of the bar stools Javier kept by the counter and rest your elbows against the laminate. Javier passed you the menu so you could look over the dishes.

You agreed on a simple chilli pizza, which was one of Javier’s favourites anyway. Javi called the deli and asked for a large, planning on sharing it with you. Remembering that you’d mentioned you were thirsty, he poured you a glass of water and handed it your way.

“Steve is gonna be so mad at me tomorrow,” Javier chuckled, rubbing his temple. You peeked up from the glass that you nursed and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “I promised him paella and I’m not gonna be able to make it tonight. Not only that but he’s gonna ask me where I’ve been. He’ll know I wasn’t out getting groceries for three hours.”

You furrowed your eyebrows together and tilted your head. “Three hours? Where were you?”

Javier paused and absent-mindedly brushed a finger along his mustache. “I bumped into an ex at the store. Went back to her place and-- you know.”

Your eyes fell back into your glass of water. “Oh.”

Javier picked at his short fingernails and another sigh left his lips. “Shit, I just--” he shook his head. “Made a mistake. A very big mistake.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yeah, that would probably be for the best but how could he even begin to tell you what happened, when you were part of the problem? Javier figured it might even scare you away. “It doesn’t matter… she’s just…” Javier scratched his head. “She’s fine. It’s a ‘me’ problem, I think.”

The doorbell rang and Javier was grateful for the interruption. He paid the pizza delivery guy and sent the stone bake on the table.

“It looks good,” you smiled. “I’ve never had Colombian pizza.”

Javier’s jaw dropped. “You--?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Dulzura, how long have you lived here?” 

“A month,” you grinned, with a mouthful of pizza. “Tastes good.”

After you’d finished eating, it had gotten pretty late. You and Javier exchanged small talk, learning little things about each other. You liked it a lot. He had always been an enigma to you, and even though he offered little information, it was still something, and you appreciated that a lot.

“It’s been a difficult day,” Javier noted, folding the pizza box and throwing it away to be recycled. “You should take my bed.”

“No,” you insisted. “I’m fine on the sofa. Honestly.”

Javier sighed. “I’m not going to let you sleep on the sofa any longer. You’ll get back ache.”

“Then I’ll just use your bath salts.” You smirked in retaliation. Javier laughed and you relished the way small crinkles appeared in the corner of his honey coloured eyes.

“Please, take my bed.” Javier said, staring at you pointedly. His eyebrows were raised and his strong arms were crossed over his chest.

You were about to argue further but truthfully, sleeping in a bed tonight sounded like exactly what you needed. You took a few steps closer to Javier, a pool of butterflies swirling in your stomach as you broke any distance between you both. You wanted to kiss his lips so desperately, taste him once again. It was only earlier today you’d had your lips wrapped around his cock, and yet, so much had happened in between then and now. You wondered if Javier was thinking about it too.

“Get some sleep, hermosa.”

Your eyes were completely trained on his soft pink lips. You wanted to kiss-- you just wanted to kiss him. Just one kiss. Just one-- you leaned in and shut your eyes, and neared him, closer and closer... but Javier stepped away.

And you felt your heart shatter in your chest.

“Nothing personal,” he told you. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Nothing personal? How were you meant to accept that? You had literally sucked him off just a few hours ago and now he wouldn’t even grace you with a kiss? Maybe Rosa was right; you shouldn’t form crushes on clients. Especially not Javier Peña. You’d only get hurt. You tugged on the sleeves of his button down shirt and balled your fingers into a fist, trying to ignore the pain in your chest.

Without uttering a word, not even a ‘goodnight’, you sulked away and into his bedroom.

Javier wanted to shout out. He didn’t want you to be mad at him, or even upset. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. It took him all the strength he could muster to deny you of that kiss. Your perfect lips looked so soft and delicate and if Javier could have it his way, he would’ve taken you in that very moment.

But you were more than just a sex worker now. You were a compliance in the hunt to catch Escobar -- and he had to be careful. No matter what, he couldn’t risk losing track of the bigger picture.

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[quietmyfearswith]

rusting wheels ; clark kent x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 1,627 words

summary — in which clark kent has had a rough day.

warnings —swear words, angst?? fluff?? mentions of liquor, mentions feeling worthless and sad.

pairing — clark kent x fem!reader

a/n — not the longest fic i put up but i’ve been going through a writing dry spell 😭 i’d appreciate some feedback and asks/messages are open! if you follow me, please state your age/age range in your bio. i will block you if you follow me and don’t have your age/age range in your bio!!!

tagging —​@la-cey @melancholyy-hill @pedropcl @beck07990 @doozywoozy

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

When he returned from the dead, Clark did not expect to feel this meaningless. He died to protect others from the danger that Doomsday brought upon the citizens of Metropolis and the reason he was brought back was to prevent a catastrophic event from occuring to the entire world. It put a pressure on him just as much as it drilled the idea that that was all he was good for — putting out fires that were forced upon his shoulders and deemed his responsibility.

After preventing a bank robbery that would have escalated to a hostage situation due to the presence of civilians who were unfortunately present during the whole incident, he decided to take a stroll first before heading back to his flat. Having changed from his superhero attire to casual clothes, he aimlessly roamed around Metropolis to calm himself as there were still faint remnants of adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Entering the dimly lit establishment, he appreciated the fact that it wasn’t crowded. A shy dozen — and that’s including the staff that were working there —  were present and allowed him to not wallow in his usual spot by the booth and instead take up a spot by the bartender, thus allowing him to be served faster.

“Rum please,” He smiled at the bearded bartender who nodded and prompted to prepare it; once the crystal glass slid over to him, he downed it all in one go. “One more,” He demanded and the bartender had to take a double look — there was a high percentage of liquor in the rum he gave him and it was a surprise to him since it physically looked like he wasn’t fazed by it.

“Yikes man, seems like you needed that one badly,” That comment came from his right and surprised him, as he looked over he noticed a woman who was smirking at him as she drank a little bit of her drink, “You alright over there?”

Taken by surprise with how genuine her concern sounded despite the words she chose to suggest otherwise, “Honestly? No, I’m not,” He downs only half of the liquor before completely turning to face her, “I’m sorry I might be raining on your parade.”

She shook her head and waved at him, “I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t interested hm?” Clark flashed her his pearly whites as he smiled as he replied, “Well how about we talked about something else?” He nodded and was about to speak when she quickly cut him off by saying, “Let’s start with your name then; unless you want me to call you mine?”

There was a blush creeping on his cheeks but he tried to ignore it as he held out his right hand and introduced himself, “Name’s Clark, Clark Kent,” She said her name as she shook his hand while adding, “Who knows? Maybe you might be moaning that out loud later on.” Liking his response to her own pick up comment, she nodded as she moved to close the distance between them and sit on the bar stool directly beside him.

“So Mr. Kent, I don’t think you’re a frequent patron of this bar huh?” Nodding as he gulped down his third drink, “Never been to this bar before — let alone this neighbourhood.” She nodded as he observed his tense figure; so she decided to lighten up the mood by jokingly implying, “Aren’t you glad you’re having your first time with me?”

Giggles erupted out of him when he understood the slightly dirty implication of her choice of words, “It depends,” He shrugged before ordering another round of drinks, “You haven’t really shown me anything yet.” It wasn’t just his words that wounded her ego, but also the way he relaxed his back into the chair and looked at her in a nonchalant manner.

“Is that a challenge?” She scoffed as she reached for the pocket of her coat and handed cash to the bartender, “For our drinks,” She told him before hastily wearing her coat, “Come on with me then.”

There was a puzzled look on his face as she was standing on her feet and crossed her arms at him, “Well? Why aren’t you getting up then, Clark?”

“Where are we headed to by the way?” Despite the indications of uncertainty in his tone, he was walking behind her as he too was draping over his thick, brown coat over his muscular frame. A delectable shiver ran down his spine when he felt her hand wrap itself around his wrist as she led them out of the establishment.

“Where’s the fun in telling you where we’re going huh?” She smirked at him and the journalist didn’t find it in himself to prevent himself from chuckling too as he shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know; who’s to say you won’t take me someplace so you can kill me?”

She stopped walking as she stared at him with an “are you kidding me?” look and scoffed, “I don’t need to see you in action, but your physique is all the proof I need to know that you are someone I do not want to fight against.”

For a second there Clark was anxious that she knew about his superhero persona; but he took a peek in her mind and she was not thinking of such a thing. And as she led him by the hand, she stopped in front of a small wooden dock which was right by a small pond , “You brought me here?”

Sheepishly nodding, she sat down and pat the spot next to her, “Sorry if it wasn’t as big as you hoped,” Feeling him take the spot up she then looked at him with an apologetic glint in her eyes, “This is just the spot I usually go to when I need to calm down and relax.”

Silently, he took in his surroundings — there was not a lot of noise that distracted him from his own thoughts, the serene landscape was highlighted with its local, beautiful trees matched with the flower bushes that were scattered around the small area pleased his blue eyes. A small smile rested on his lips as he gazed at the ducks that were swimming around the pond before looking at her, “How’d you find this place out?”

“Was walking around the city after a bad day,” She sighed out as she recalled how every single aspect possible of her life turned against her, ultimately leaving her in a bitter mood, “And since I didn’t want to sulk around in my apartment, I went for a stroll. Luckily, my feet dragged me here.”

“And you’ve been coming here ever since? To just take a step back and breathe?”

She nodded as she looked at him with wonder, “Exactly like that; are you a mind reader of some sort?” Her elbow playfully poked his stomach and they both laughed at each other's childishness.

“Thank you,” Clark spoke after a few moments of silently staring at the way the stars shone in the sky; puzzled with what he was grateful for she spoke up, “For what?”

“For trusting me enough to show me this special place of yours,” He explained with a serene expression on his face, “I’ve been going through a rough patch myself.” Saying it out loud somehow made the last Kryptonian feel better. Closing his eyes to take a deep breath in, he found himself sharing what he has been bottling up, “Girlfriend broke up with me, work’s a pain in my behind, I’ve been doing a lot of,” He paused for a moment as he tried to think of a word to describe his world-saving activities involving the Justice League, “Some volunteer work and just,” A shaky exhale escaped his lips before he let out the final factor that has been taking a toll on him, “I’ve been feeling useless and worthless.”

Seeing the way how dejected he looked — paired with the way his voice cracked when he mentioned the final sentence — made her heart ache for him as she reached out for his hand, rubbing the back of his palm with her thumb, an effort to rid him of the negative sentiments he had.

“From what I see, you’re trying too hard and too much to be someone people expect you to be,” Her other hand reached up to his face as she wiped away the stray tears that inadvertently escaped his eyes. Her lips stretched out to a small smile, “You’re a kind man and you’re pushing yourself too much. You spend so much time looking after people that you don’t even take time to tend to yourself.”

Hearing someone see his efforts made him feel validated; as he looked at her, Clark felt stronger despite having just been vulnerable and open with her. “Thank you,” He smiled with glossy eyes, “That meant so much to me.”

“Well I’m glad that I somehow got to make you feel better, Clark.”

He chuckled to himself before fully turning to face her, “You know I’m much more fun and lively than I am right now?” Shaking her head she then lightly hit his arm, “Yeah? So far you haven’t really shown me anything yet.” Her smirked

Realizing that she had used his own line against him, he  smirked at her before pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, “Yeah? How ‘bout you let me take you out for a date then?” Biting the insides of her cheek to prevent the wide grin from erupting free.

“Well Mr. Kent, I look forward to going on a date with you — I bet that you can’t top off this amazing view of the lake though.”

[got-fire]

open starter | plot: your muse is sitting on a bar when Zach comes along. Doesn’t have to be a shippy thing, necessarily | open to f/m, mutuals or not | bio 

-

He wasn’t the type of guy to feel self pity, but the murmuring and visible looks of the waiters who asked him to give up the table weren’t exactly comfortable. Carrying his scotch with him on his way to the bar of the fancy restaurant, he kept his wish to curse under control. 

He should know better than that. Zach wasn’t the dating type, but somehow, this whole situation made him feel mad for leaving work soon, following advice from that old receptionist who always found new ways to say he needed to “start looking for someone”.

“Blind date my ass.“ He muttered as he sat fronting the counter, putting the glass down loud enough to caught some attention. “Scotch on rocks.“ He made a gesture to the local barman, who he knew right away that heard he was the guy who got stood up by his date and was invited to leave after almost two hours waiting. “Are you deaf?” He watched he young man move to get his drink, and only then really looked to the the other someone sitting beside him, probably waiting for a table. “In case you didn’t hear it from the waiters, I’m their special joke tonight cause I got stood up.“ He looked around one more time, then back at the strange. “i hope this makes your waiting a little more pleasant.” Zach sipped his newly acquired drink, eyeing the other. “Oh, please, don’t look at me like I’m a sick puppy. I’ve had enough from the waiters. I’m good. Really.”

[besaem]

Hello there!! Sorry I’m super late with the intro, but it’s me, BEAR [ he/him. 21+ ], back again with my second muse, HAN SAEM [ 20020516 ]. He’s as different as can be to Junho, which makes me incredibly excited to embark on my journey here with him. Here you can find his PROFILE & BIO, and as usual I’ll be leaving basic info and connection ideas under the read more!! I’m absolutely buzzing to get plotting with everyone, so please do hmu if you want to plot, or like this post and I’ll hop into your IMs — I also have a discord upon request!!

— TRIVIA

Saem's family were thoroughly middle class, living in a three bedroom apartment close to the funeral home that had been passed down from his great grandfather

His father took over the funeral home from Saem grandfather before Saem was born. His mother worked part time at a local library. His older brother was an average student with an unpleasant personality and dishevelled appearance that led to Saem, who was top of his class, obedient and tidy, to be the golden child

Saem was a pretty isolated child (by choice) and didn’t have a lot of friends, not because people didn’t like him (since he tended to be well-liked by most of his classmates) but because he was quite private and hard to get to know

He took ballet and piano classes from the age of 4 and reached Grade 8 in both. After he got his Grade 8 in ballet he helped teach the younger children at his dance academy until he graduated high school in 2021

He was in his school choirs from the beginning of Elementary and by the time he was in high school he almost always got the solo parts

He dreamt of being an idol from around the age of 10, but rarely voiced this, and never acted on it, despite having a secret interest in multiple idols and idol groups throughout his preteens and teen years

Saem’s only real pleasures in life these days are immediate, short term pleasures. He spends a little too much, drinks a little too much, and goes out to find someone to spend the night with almost every weekend

Saem loves culture and the arts—he enjoys going to museums, galleries, and to the theatre. He tends to like anything that feels fancy, and has expensive tastes despite not really having the income to support the lifestyle he’d really like

Despite cherishing the friends he has, Saem sort of sucks at initiating hanging out. He’s good at texting, but he’s unlikely to be the one to suggest doing something together unless he really likes the person

[ tw // mental health ] Despite appearing to those around him like a calm, collected, and perfectly content individual, Saem is, frankly, depressed. He’s very good at hiding it, and only those really close to him would be able to tell something was up. The things that make him happy only really do so for a few hours here and there, maybe a day at most, but usually his days are tinged with an undercurrent of hopelessness [ end tw ]

Saem tends to not go out of his comfort zone, and can, at times, seem a bit rigid and unadventurous. However, he’s not outright opposed to being pushed into doing things that he’s never done before and might find he likes, he just would never think to do it himself

On the flip side of that, however, his tendency to indulge means that when he finds things he can be adventurous with (like drinking too much and hooking up with people) he can find it hard to know when to stop

Saem still loves to play the piano, sing, and interact with ballet (pretty much just going to see ballets these days, since he’s got no opportunities to actually dance anymore), however he’s never felt quite comfortable doing these things when his parents are home, as he doesn’t like them to perceive things that are special to him out of an unconscious fear that once they get their hands on something that makes him happy, they’ll crush it

He wants to move out for multiple reasons, but doesn’t because he knows his parents would wonder why, when it’s not ‘usual’. He also feels like he’d be abandoning his parents, who he often cooks and cleans for

Saem adores cats and will stop to say hi to any cat he sees on the street no matter how much of a hurry he’s in

— CONNECTIONS

Growing up Saem had very few close friends, but the ones he did have he’d have killed and died for. One of his first ever friends is still, to this day, his best friend. They’re the only person who truly knows what Saem struggles with, what he thinks about his life, and really just all the ins and outs of how he ticks. [ — Your muse grew up in Seoul and was among the first friends Saem made. They’ve watched him grow and go through the motions of trying to be someone he never really wanted to be, and have been there for him at every turn. They know him better than anyone ]

While Saem always knew he’d one day have to marry a woman, that didn’t stop him from seeking out short-term romance. Sometime during high school he had a boyfriend. It was nice, and while Saem was always very clear that it couldn’t last forever, they made the most of it. Eventually, the relationship ended, and they both moved on with their lives, but Saem will never forget his first proper relationship, and how he wished his life could be full of romances just like that one. [ — Saem and your muse dated for a while when they were teens, but Saem could never fully open himself up to it despite wanting to; he didn’t want to fall too hard. It ended eventually, whether because they graduated and were moving on with their lives, or for more emotional/personal reasons—whatever it was, Saem still isn’t fully over the relationship, or your muse ]

During high school Saem made a close friend—a girl around his age who he just clicked with. They quickly became exceptionally close, spending much of their free time together. Unbeknownst to Saem, though, she fell for him, and while he would never feel the same, he wondered if this was what he might be able to have in the future. She made him wonder if one day he could marry a woman he was best friends with and still be happy, even if he wasn’t in love. [ — Your muse fell in love with Saem when they were teens, after they became fast friends. Perhaps they confessed to him, and he turned them down, or they never said anything, and either let it fade out, or still feel the same today. Either way, your muse gave Saem a shred of hope that his future might not be as miserable as he feared ]

Saem rarely ever hooks up with the same person twice. When he’s out clubbing, looking for someone to spend the night with, he usually tells people to call him ‘Han’, never disclosing where he works, or giving much identifying information about himself. However, multiple times now, your muse and Saem have ended your nights out together, despite his rule. He simply can’t stay away. Still, he refuses to give them his number, or tell them where he works. Until, on afternoon, they see him retrieving a coffee for someone called ‘Saem’. [ — Your muse and Saem have hooked up a few times after bumping into each other while out clubbing, and your muse wants to make it a regular thing—it’s easier to be able to just call him up, than having to go looking for someone new each time—but Saem’s reluctant, despite being very into your muse. But then, your muse spots him in a cafe and realises he gave them a ‘fake’ name, and confronts him ]

Saem’s parents are casually keeping their eyes peeled for potential women they can set Saem up with. Since he’s never shown any initiative in dating (to their knowledge), they think they need to drop a suitable woman into his lap and coordinate his relationship for him. Recently, they’d been a little more forceful about it, bringing up girls more and more often around him, and suggesting to him that they help him out. While he refuses every time, saying he’s too busy working for a relationship, they seem to have found just the right match, at least in their opinion. [ — Your muse, for some reason, has been chosen as a suitable candidate to be set up with Saem by his parents. They’ve been set up on a date, and while Saem is anything but pleased about it, he isn’t one to refuse something his parents ask of him. This could turn into fake dating, a one-sided crush, a friendship, or they might even find they really hate Saem, but both of them have to continue to go on dates to please their parents ]

[novelconcepts]

Jamie & Dani short prompt- Online Dating au meeting online and being from bad past relationship. Thank u

This is probably a bad idea. It is, isn’t it? Almost certainly.

Why is she here?

Dani Clayton has been playing this particular set of thoughts--bad idea, terrible idea, why would you do this?--on repeat for three days. Ever since setting up that dating profile. Ever since realizing there isn’t much use in setting up a dating profile if you’re not going to use it. 

Oh, it’s all fun and games, building the thing. Find a photo that accentuates all the best parts of your face--Dani, after an hour of careful consideration, wound up going with one that accentuated her hair, more than anything, but she suspects the same idea counts. Then, the profile. What do you like? Teaching, long walks, new experiences, bad coffee. What don’t you like? 

Men, she’d thought, and snorted aloud into her wine before settling on: Deep water, accordion music, expectations, being called Danielle. 

A little more flourish, tipsy keystrokes, a casually-framed short-version of her life. Perfect. And then...well, then you hit the publish button, don’t you? You decide, for better or worse, to jump off this diving board and see just how far you can stand to swim before the energy gives out on you.

The faces appearing before her hadn’t been bad, certainly. Pretty, most of them. Interesting, a few. Still, she hadn’t swiped right on any--once or twice, because she’d forgotten which way meant yes please, but mostly because no one seemed quite...right. Which, she’d thought, was silly. The whole point of an app like this is to cast as many nets as possible and see what comes up. The whole point is to have fun. 

But every time she’d hovered over a promising image, a woman who likes dogs, or plays the violin, or goes rock-climbing in her spare time, she’d thought of him. Eddie. Who had taken one yes to a single date, and tried to make a whole life with her out of it. 

Eddie, who had taken her two decades to pull away from. 

What if the women here were the same? Not Eddie, exactly, but--presumptive. What if they believed a swipe-right was as good as a marriage proposal? What if she got bound up in conversation, and then a date, and then a relationship with someone else who just didn’t fit right?

Left. Left. Left. 

And then: the mistake.

She hadn’t meant to swipe right. Exactly. She hadn’t planned, maybe is the better way of putting it, on swiping right. She’d only wanted to look at the woman’s profile a little longer. Only wanted to inspect the facets this woman had put out on display with almost resigned simplicity. 

Some people, Dani had by now realized, wrote poetry and paragraphs to describe themselves. 

Jamie Taylor had bullet points.

“Gardener. English. Likes: Plants. Stories. Tea. Dislikes: Bullshit.”

The end. That had been quite literally the sum of it. Gardener. English. No bullshit.

But the picture, somehow, Dani hadn’t been able to look away from. Not because of carefully-arranged lighting, not because of a curated model-clean image--but because the woman appeared to have posted the photo almost under duress. It came in profile, as though someone else had done the job, her head turned toward the camera as if interrupted. Her hands were buried in a flower pot. Her clothes were simple--a tank top, a silver chain resting against the jut of collarbones, a pair of worn-looking jeans with holes in the knees. Her eyes--some fascinating color Dani couldn’t quite place--looked somewhere between amused and irritated. 

She looked real. 

Stupid, Dani thinks now--because that was probably the idea, wasn’t it? This woman, Jamie, had planned to look exactly this way. Real. Vexed at the idea of putting herself out there. Reluctantly available. 

It was a ploy, certainly--but one that seems to be working, because not only did Dani accidentally-not-accidentally swipe right, she found herself texting the woman. For hours. She’d expected much less, had figured this Jamie person would be as brief in text as she had been in bio, but...

Jamie had talked to her. Willingly. Teasingly, with more humor than truth, maybe, but with no sign at all that she was sick of Dani’s questions, bad jokes, nervous assessment that I really don’t do this, I honestly don’t get it. 

I don’t, either, Jamie had replied, and that had felt like enough of a reason to keep testing the waters. Enough of a reason to keep the conversation going back and forth, back and forth, until nearly two in the morning.

Shit, she’d said. I need to be at work in four hours. 

Shame, Jamie had replied, her tone already searingly familiar over text. Own your own business, make your own hours. Far wiser approach. 

I’ll make a note of it for when I found an elementary school, Dani had replied, laughing. She hadn’t said she’d already been in bed for an hour, the phone resting on the pillow beside her head so she wouldn’t miss the buzz of a new message. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, with wine-warmed blood and the happy haze of good conversation. Jamie made her laugh. Jamie put her at ease. Jamie might not have been real, but she felt real, and that was good. 

Better than anything she’d felt in years, if she was honest with herself. 

Still, when the next day had come and gone with no message, she’d thought, Fair enough. Jamie had been good virtual company for one night. It was more than she’d expected to get out of this app.

Far more than she’d expected, particularly when Thursday night rolled around and her phone buzzed.

Teacher, yeah? No school on Saturday?

Correct, Dani had replied, as amused by the out-of-left-field text as she was irritated with how her stomach had flipped over upon receiving it. You have figured out the complexity of the American school system. 

I am a genius, Jamie sent back, followed quickly by: Drinks tomorrow night? 

Drinks. A thing that people do. A thing that adult people do for date reasons. 

She isn’t real, she’d thought, even as her thumb was punching back: How’s 8? Miller’s?

A mistake. Definitely a mistake. Because the app had been a lark, and the conversation had been too easy, and the fact that she can’t quite pick out the colors in Jamie’s eyes from a single photo is making her crazier than she’d like to admit. 

A mistake, saying yes. A mistake, suggesting the local pub-like establishment around the corner, whose beer-and-burger specials had kept her fed on too many evenings spent working late. A mistake, because once this goes south--as it’s absolutely bound to, as everything Eddie-shaped always has--she’s going to lose her favorite hangout in the deal, too.

And yet: here she is. Standing at the door, wondering if the outfit chosen for the evening festivities--tight jeans, pink blouse, hoop earrings--is too much or not nearly enough. 

What am I doing here?

Maybe, she thinks with mingled alarm and hope, she won’t even have showed up. Maybe it’s all part of the ruse: look approachable, look human and normal, look a little too beautiful in the most grounded way possible--then, cheerfully, invite a woman to drinks and just don’t show. A fun story for whoever comes next. Can you believe she thought I’d want to meet her after one night of texting?

“Dani?” 

English, Dani thinks with a sudden rush of heat. Right. Somehow, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the accent, which--coming out of this woman, draped with languid ease at a table--is truly a little more than Dani thinks she can handle just now. The accent, combined with the mess of curls dragged back from her face, and a dress sense that manages to be both casual and deeply attractive at the same time, is...

“Jamie,” she says, her voice a little lower, a little more hoarse, than is truly necessary. The woman pushes up from her seat, a small-framed figure in a black button-down, suspenders, ripped jeans. She’s pressing a hand toward Dani, offering a firm shake as though they are business partners, not an off-the-cuff bad idea of a date. “You look--”

“Never been here before,” Jamie says, almost apologetically. She gestures for Dani to sit before dropping back down in a sprawl that implies exactly the opposite of what her mouth is insisting. “Wasn’t sure about the, ah, dress code.”

“You--you did fine,” Dani tells her, wishing suddenly she’d gone for a dress. Or a  different human body altogether. She feels too tightly-strung, too anxious for the easy smile on Jamie’s lips. “Um. You’re very. In person.”

“Very,” Jamie repeats, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Is very American for wish I’d gone left, after all?”

“No. No. Absolutely not. That.” Bit too forceful, she suspects, judging by the smile spreading into a grin. “No, it’s just--your picture didn’t--tell me you’d be so...”

“Clean?” Jamie suggests innocently. She raises her hands, wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Scrub up fine, when I need to. Seemed to call for it.”

“And you...sure did answer,” Dani says stupidly. “The. Call, I mean. I’m sorry, I really don’t do this often.”

Something seems to soften in Jamie, her smile less teasing as she leans across the table. “Hey, no worries here. Same person you were talking to the other night.”

Dani nods, embarrassed, and flags down a server. Drinks ordered, she draws in a deep breath.

“I mean, I haven’t done this in years. Or. Ever, I guess.”

“A first date?” Jamie asks. When Dani doesn’t answer, she adds in a knowing tone, “A date with a woman?”

“Both,” Dani says honestly. “My last relationship was--well, I mean, we were engaged--”

Jamie whistles under her breath, reaching up to scratch her head. “Blimey. What happened?”

“He’s...him.” It’s too much to go into on a first date, too much to explain, even though talking to Jamie over text had been so dangerously easy. “My best friend growing up, but that was...growing up.”

Jamie nods thoughtfully, tilting her chin in thanks when the server deposits two full pint glasses and a basket of fries on the table. “Rough time, sounds like. I can relate. My last relationship also did not go well.”

“Was he also a man who thought you’d be all too happy to quit your job and take care of a bunch of babies?” Dani asks, perhaps a little too bitterly for the occasion. Jamie flashes another grin, sipping her drink.

“She was a woman who thought I’d be all too happy to take the fall when she got busted for possession.”

Dani gapes. “Oh. Oh--I didn’t know--I’m so--”

Jamie shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong. I was nineteen, and deeply stupid. Live and learn, as the poets say.”

“Which poets?” Dani asks, smiling a little. Jamie’s brow furrows.

“John...Lennon, possibly? Hard to say. Anyway, relationships are a chore and a half, but the greatest people in the world tell me thirty is too old to play musical bedframes, so. Here we are.”

No bullshit, thinks Dani approvingly. For what little she’d put into her profile, Jamie evidently hadn’t been lying about that.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since you were nineteen?”

“In my mind, I was still in the relationship at twenty-four, when they let me out. She didn’t agree. Found out she’d been married two years, by then.” Something darkens in Jamie’s eyes for a moment. She sighs. “Like I said. Not my finest. But I am, as they say, a shining beacon of reform these days.”

“Now, when you say they,” Dani teases, grinning. Jamie nods decisively. 

“John Lennon. Definitively.”

There it is, thinks Dani, watching Jamie pop a fry into her mouth. There, the easy roll of conversation from the other night. As though they’ve known each other forever. As though two people who have thus far failed irrevocably at relationships make a perfect match.

Easy, she thinks. Don’t go wild, now. 

“So,” she says, when the comfortable silence between them has grown a bit too comfortable for the setting, “who are the greatest people in the world? The ones who tell you thirty is too old for...did you say musical bedframes?”

Jamie laughs. The ring of it curls gently around Dani’s head like a soft hand, a sound she’ll find herself replaying later with a skipping heart. 

“Not many willing to put up with a grump of my caliber, but Hannah and Owen fight the good fight. So long as I at least pretend to try.”

“Let me guess. They set up the account for you?”

Jamie makes a sort of gesture in the air with the hand not holding her glass. “Threatened to bury me in puns and children, respectively, if I kept putting it off. Owen’s still grumpy about the photo choice.”

“I liked it,” Dani says without thinking. Jamie raises an eyebrow.

“Well, you did swipe as much. Mind if I ask why?”

Walked into this one. Still, she doesn’t mind as much as she probably should, not with the genuine curiosity in Jamie’s eyes. “You looked--don’t laugh.”

“No promises,” Jamie says, but with the gentle tone of one who knows exactly how much to tease before it’ll hurt. The idea warms Dani in a way she’s not quite ready to look at yet.

“You looked real,” Dani says. “Like you weren’t going to play games, or waste anyone’s time. Like you just wanted to be happy in peace.”

“That is,” Jamie says, holding out a fry for Dani to take, “sort of the idea, yeah.”

There’s an almost puzzled cast to her smile, like she didn’t entirely expect this answer, and is pleased by it at the same time. That same sense from the photo sweeps over Dani now--that this woman is authentic, even if she’s not always shiny, that she’s kind even if not entirely clean. That she doesn’t have any interest in muddled expectation or living a comfortable lie.

“And me?” Dani asks. She doesn’t entirely mean to--but she’s sure, in asking, that Jamie will answer. Jamie is unlike anyone else she’s ever met, the first person she’s ever known to meet each question head-on. 

“Honestly?”

Dani nods. Jamie seems to consider it, turning it over in her head as she twists a fry between her fingers like a cigarette. 

“All of it.”

“That’s,” Dani begins to laugh, “that’s not--”

“No,” Jamie says, and she isn’t smiling, exactly. Her eyes have a sort of shine Dani likes very much, but there is no hint of teasing in them now. “Really. All of it. You’re...very pretty, and that’s--but the way you described yourself. Like you didn’t care to be anyone in particular. You like new experiences, and bad coffee. You hate being called Danielle. I...I wanted to know why.”

“It’s not my name,” Dani says simply. Jamie gives a brief laugh, her hand moving across the table to lightly brush Dani’s fingertips. 

“I wanted to know why all of it. Why do you like bad coffee--”

“It’s the only kind I know how to make,” Dani says automatically. “Just sort of leaned into it.”

“--and teaching--”

“I want to make a difference,” Dani says. 

“--and where you most like to go on those long walks--”

“Anywhere I can breathe,” Dani says. Her fingers are hesitant, tracing the tips of Jamie’s. There’s something electric about this, about barely touching, about barely knowing someone and still wanting to give them neatly-packaged secrets shaped like the mundane. 

Jamie is smiling. “See, that. I like that. All of it.”

It’s nothing, Dani thinks reflexively. A collection of details. A sparse approximation of a life. Eddie knows all of this, and then some, and never matched up to knowing her.

But this woman, leaning across the table with one hand outstretched, looks so different. Watches her with steady interest. Is listening to every word Dani says, though the bar is growing crowded around them, and soon, conversation will become a task instead of a gift.

“Would you,” Dani says, feeling certain that some mistakes are not as bad as they seem, “like to take one of those walks?”

“Tonight?” 

“Yeah. Tonight.” Emboldened by the smile, by the curl falling into Jamie’s eyes, by the knowledge that she still can’t quite make out what color those eyes are, Dani takes her hand. It’s so easy, she thinks she could do it even without looking. “Right now.”

No bullshit, she thinks. No expectations. Just Jamie looking at her like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Dani can’t blame her. This isn’t at all what she’d thought she was getting, walking in tonight. 

But there’s something about it--something about the feeling that she’s been here before, or should be here forever, or will always find her way back to a woman who looks at her just like this--that almost makes her feel brave. Almost makes her feel wonderful. She rises from the table, laying cash beneath her half-empty glass, and feels a pleasant jolt in her chest when Jamie follows without another word.

If this a mistake, she thinks as they step out into the brisk evening air, it’s one she’s hungry to make. 

[pippuns]

Deidre gets many hugs now don't worry. Her bio family is messy as hell but she got adopted to the Fullest within Ishgardian Law by Edmont for her 20th birthday before Stormblood. Also Hydaelyn (me) decided that a certain someone (Haurchefant) needed to be brought back for the sake of emotional support in Endwalker. I also put him on the first so he's really ping-ponging around with them XD. It takes a long time for the Scions to truly understand the kind of support she needs, but they know her now!!! It took a couple Rough Events (esteem rage + 'hey zenos is here to kill me in case I become a Light Warden because he's the only fucker who could possibly win' ) for the older scions (aka not the twins) to Really know her but by Endwalker, they're finally actually as close to her as group as they thought they had been during ARR.

What kind of relationship quirks does Alwynn have with each of the scions?

LETS GO!!! ADOPTION!!!! WHAT DEIDRE DESERVES!!! omg AND haurchefant resurrection?? we really win them all here. thanks hydaelyn. i'm glad eventually the scions get to Really Know her for deidres sake please sirs she's child:tm:

early scion interactions between alwynn mainly had them be the scions local cryptid who never really stuck around or slept in the waking sands with everyone else (or at all tbh) and really only showed up to do favors for minfilia before vanishing again for a while (alwynn's a legacy wol trying to learn how to interact with the world again and make up for lost time). they warmed up a lot to the rest of the scions after praetorium and the coils were dealt with.

for more light-hearted stuff though uhh

y'shtola gave alwynn an impossible puzzle to solve to see how long it would take them to give up. alwynn is still trying to solve it.

alwynn likes bringing back weird curiosities from their travels to see if urianger knows anything about it. he always does and always gives them a lecture as to their origins and historical importance. its their goal to eventually bring something back that completely baffles urianger. this is not possible, but they haven't been deterred.

alwynn likes to knit blankets when they're traveling via boat or airship, so there's a corner in the scions' headquarters that has an abundance of soft knitted blankets. peak location for a sleepover

while all the scions were falling asleep t the end of stormblood, alwynn stress knit a ton of blankets for them. when they wake up back at the source its to an abundance of large stress squares.

alwynn has a rather large scar on their right hand from one night when they went out drinking with thancred and he challenged them to play the knife game as fast as they possible could. they immediately accidentally stabbed their hand. they were banned from going out drinking with thancred for a while after that.

they're also incapable of saying no to dumb challenges (not out of a sense of pride or anything but just because their gauge of Normal Human Actions is completely skewed) so lyse would dare them to do increasingly dumb and baffling shit. papalymo eventually put a stop to it.

haurchefant passed on the "hot choccy makes everything better" habits to alwynn when they were both still teens so the scions are used to hot choccy nights for the smallest inconveniences. alphinaud probably got some hot chocolate his first night in the falling snows and started crying because of this.

one time when they were writing in their journal one of the other scions noticed and asked to add a footnote. this specific journal has since become a scrapbook for all the scions.

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

Agave Syrup: ship kid. Secondary collab verse.

Annnnnd here's the new baby! She's my Cciller ship kid. She exists the the secondary ship kid universe which is a collab verse with @thebluescreen. She's from the Multiverse Rem is a part of, but not from the multiverse Coffee creamer is from. (They are two separate multiverses with different ships and storys.)

Both Agave and 4Loko are the same person, I'll explain below.

"yall really for a no caff, full foam, double chocolate latte, with an extra hit of caramel syrup!? It's my own special blend..... Added just for you~"

Name: Agave Syrup

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Strate

Parents: (Bio) Ccino (Da) and Killer (Baba). Non bio Nightmare (Father).

Other family: Rem (older half brother) Vanta (older half brother) Somba Lullaby (older half brother). Dream (uncle) Cross (Uncle) Radiant Hope (Cousin) Empathy (Cousin). And many cats.

Nicknames: Kitten (by killer) and Gave

Agave is the youngest of the Fluffynightkiller ship kids from the second verse. She grew up primary raised By Ccino and her oldest brother Rem. Killer and Nightmare were there, but weren't massively involved parents.

Agave is pretty close to her brother Rem, despite the 13 year age gap and will normally have a fortnightly movie night where they will watch crappy horror movies (like Jack Frost or The Sand) and laugh about how stupid they are. They also both love to watch old horror movies and play a game of "what incredibly stupid choice will character A make that will result in there death? Hmmm". It's there favourite thing to do together.

Agave isn't a huge fan of generally good horror films though and especially can't stand the saw films. So she doesn't watch them unless it's with Rem.

Agave and her other brother Somba aren't as close (he's 5 years older) but she still cares alot for him and isn't above defending him if needed.

Agave has two main sides to herself, this being how she is normally and her persona/alterego 4Loko. But more on that below.

Normally she is a very bright and chipper girl who's abit of a goof. She sees the fun or silly side in alot of things in life and is rarely not in a good mood. She's also quite a passive person (or at least pretends to be) and is quite kind. Her personality is abit to much like Dream's for Nightmare's liking so the two aren't really close.

She's that person who is very fun to be around but just slightly unnerving. Like there is something going on underneath her smile. Something just slightly off.

Being born with her soul on the outside of her body wasn't suprising because of her relation to Killer, however it caused Ccino to be conserned during her up bringing. He were quite scared about how easily she could be hurt of killed so always kept a close eye on her. Killer didn't care as much and gave her more free rain. For example, letting her play with this pocket knife as a 1 year old.

Agave works primarily at her Da's coffee shop and takes great pride in it. She grew up there and its been a part of her life ever since she can remember. She enjoys making her own flavouring syrups and blends to put into drinks to make them taste better. Other then that she's studying a business degree (at age 18 +) at a local university in order to get better with the business.

About 4Loko and her soul.

"Me? And serial killer? No no I'm a barista, those aren't even similar....."

Now this is where things start up, because she's got to inherit some things from Killer, right?

Agaves soul glitches, much like Killer's does, from being heart shaped to being target shaped. It does this many times a day. When this happens it normally doesn't last longer then a few seconds till it goes back to normal. To an outsider it may even be unnoticeable and for the most part it doesn't effect Agave.

However sometimes she will trap her soul into a jar or some type of container. Doing this will stop it from glitching and stick it in whatever form its in (she can't do this all the time as it strains the soul and brings pain). So sometimes she will stick it in target mode. When she sticks it in target mode, her eyes drip.

Unbeknownst to any of her parents when her soul is like this, it changes her. She feels basically nothing, no fear, no sadness, no guilt or empathy. She realised at a young age that this was her super power.

In this mode she could do anything and not suffer any emotional consequences.

It started with stealing cookies from the biscuit tin at age 9 and evolved into hurting bully's at school. Then into giving food poisoning to rude customers by mixing up syrups to slip into drinks to make people ill.

For the most part she stays out of this mode, only dipping in when she felt she needed to test how far she could push it.

When she was 15 she started to consider pushing it to the limit.

She was watching the news and found out about some kind of abuser or murder being arrested and she thought. Why do we let people who do such horrible things live? Wouldn't it be better if they were dead? Then she realised, with her super power, could she kill someone?

When she was 16 she had her first kill. They were robber shed caught beating someone in an alleyway. (I don't know to much about this yet so I'll need to think more about it) but afterwards, she realised that she'd been right in the fact that she didn't feel guilty. She could use this to make the world a better place!

She didn't kill again for about a year. (just incase, I wanna point out that I'm not saying that what Agave does is justified. She's just an ship kid, a act of fiction and not ment to be taken seriously)

So anyway, by age 17 Agave makes her second kill and continues on that path. These are alot more thought out and planned. Her method of choice is through creating poisonous syrup and killing people that way, though she isn't above a good old knife death. Her Baba taught her well. She also carries around chemicals to clean blood and things like that.

She doesn't like her victims to dweal in pain and gets the deaths over quickly and painlessly. She gets no pleasure from causing pain to others, and when she doesn't have a target soul it makes her upset to hurt people.

Agave ended up calling her killer mode 4Loko. That's the name for her alterego the serial killer. She separates 4Loko from herself and doesn't want it to impact her Day to day life. So she will use make up to cover the birth mark on her face. When she's in her 20s she ends up working as an hireable assassin for killing criminals. But more on that later.

Non of her parents know about her double life. But that doesn't mean no one does.

Rem has always kept a close eye on his little sister. Over the years he noticed her odd behaviour and her collection of 'syrups' that she keeps in her room hidden.

During her 17th year he confronts her about what she does (which was a huge mess) the two fought as she attempted to stab him through the soul with her knife. She couldn't let him live if he knew right? She would have been able to but she just couldn't bring herself to hurt him. Since she wasn't in target mode she just couldn't do it especially as he spoke to her and talked her down. (tbh it's actually a kind of sweet scene between them).

After he's calmed her Rem offers to help her kill people, and he's very happy to. (Rem has alot of darkness under his kind surface which I'm sure @thebluescreen would be more then happy to explain in better detail).

So the two grow closer through that.

And yeah, that's the basic run down of my Cciller baby.! Hope you like her! My barista turned murderer/hitman I figured this would be a good mix of both her parents.

You have no idea! How long I spent working on her colour scheme..... It took about a month till I finally had this one and I'm pretty happy with it. I hope I explained everything about her double life well, I wasn't sure how clear it is. If you have any questions, please ask.

<3

[softboywriting]

Fight For You | Part 1

Summary: Your whole adult life you’ve dated mixed martial arts fighters, it comes naturally with working and living in and around the fighting circuits. After a fallout with your now ex-boyfriend you find a new place to start a new life where you find someone who is willing to fight for you as much as you are for him. Will you be able to build something beautiful or will your past come back to haunt you? [fighting] [asshole ex]

Word Count: 13k

Authors Note:  None of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics on any platform.

|Masterlist In Bio|

Moving to a new town in a new state is a fresh start for you. After a rough year dealing with an asshole boyfriend, leaving said boyfriend and losing your job, you have to find a new place in life. The world is a clean slate for you and Red Lake is where you’re ready to put down some roots and start over. Your best friend Jodi and her wife live there and they’re the closest thing to a real family you have left so choosing Red Lake was a no brainer.

"So, how's the apartment?" Jodi asks as she unlocks the back door of the gym where she works. Her wife Harlow is the owner and a former female MMA fighter. "It's not too shitty I hope."

"Oh I didn't get the apartment. I got the house on Garden Plaza. The one Harlow said her friend was renting out."

"Oh yeah! Fuck, I totally forgot." Jodi holds the door open for you and you wander into the back storage room. It's full of old mats and various pieces of equipment in need of repair. "When does the truck arrive with your stuff?"

"This week. The drivers said tomorrow but I'm not counting on it."

Jodi pushes open the door to the main hallway to the gym floor and nearly smacks into someone. "Holy shit!" She leans on the door and you step forward to see who she hit or just got scared by.

"Are you okay?" A voice says from beyond the door and a head pops out. "Sorry Jodi."

"God! Why are you here so early!" Jodi asks, ushering you out into the hall. She closes the door and you see a guy in a fitted black shirt and a pair of grey sweats standing behind the door. He's oddly familiar.

"Harlow asked me to come in and...wipe down the mats." The guy stares at you and you stare back. You know him. Those chocolate curls, soft eyes, and sharp jawline are unmistakably familiar. You just can't put your finger on it.

Jodi waves her hand in front of his face. "Shawn? Earth to Shawnie boy!"

Shawn Pierce. Shit, yeah it's coming back to you. Tate trained with him about a year ago when he was trying to get into the western region MMA championship circuit. You were never properly introduced but you did talk a few times. Tate didn't bring you by the gym a lot, he claimed you distracted him.

"You're Tate Greyson's girlfriend right?"

"Ex." Jodi snorts and you shove her shoulder. Shawn raises his eyebrows.

"I was, yes. We're not together anymore." You chuckle and shake your head. "Not that we were ever that together in the first place."

Shawn narrows his eyes at you and you shift uncomfortably. "Did he hit you?"

"What?" Your eyes go wide.

"The bruise on your collarbone."

Jodi leans in and pulls your shirt aside a little bit. "Oh shit, what happened?"

Suddenly you remember the bruise in question. You had fallen off the step ladder in your apartment back home while taking down your plant hangers. "I fell while packing up my apartment." You pull your shirt back to show Jodi more of the yellowing bruise. "I swear Tate never hit me. It's been months since I've seen him."

"Oh thank God." Jodi sighs and pulls out her keys. "I'd kill him myself if he touched you."

Shawn steps back and rubs his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything."

You lean against the wall as Jodi walks up the stairs to her office door. "No, it's fine. Tate is a bit of a loose cannon, but he never hit me."

"Yeah, he was a tough one." Shawn folds his arms, stretching the tee across his chest and you can't help but stare. He shakes his head. "He never did like to listen, always just wanted to swing hard and fast, no finesse."

"Should have seen him in bed. Same tactic."

Shawn's eyes widen and you realize you didn't really need to tell him that. You flush and he just laughs. "Man he must have pissed you off if you're out here dragging him like this."

"Yeah he did." You roll your eyes at the thought of Tate. Everything he did pissed you off. Silence falls between the two of you and you push off the wall. "I'll see you around?"

"I'm here just about every day." He puts his hand out for you awkwardly and you take it, giving an oddly formal shake. "Are you going to be here a lot?"

"Dunno. I got a job at Dixie's down the street but I work nights. So I might come around a bit."

Shawn drops your hand and runs his hand over his hair. "A waitress?"

"Bartender." You smirk and he grins. "You can stop by, I make a good gin and tonic. I'm allowed discounts for family and friends."

"I'm a friend then, eh?"

"Oh I'm sure you'll be a friend." You look him over and bite your lip. "Maybe more."

Shawn grins and you can't miss the pink that spreads across his cheeks. "You're bold. I like that." He steps back and turns to go out to the main floor. "I should get back to those mats now."

"Mmmhmm." You wave him off. "See ya."

Jodi clicks her tongue and you steps out of her office. "You are so predictable." She says from the top of the stairs.

You jog up to meet her and give her a look. "What? Because I think he's hot?"

"No, because he's a fighter." Jodi rolls her eyes and sinks into her chair as you follow her into the large room. "You only date fighters."

"Says the woman who married one!"

"Hey, I don't count. Harlow is the only fighter I ever dated and I didn't even know she was a fighter when we started going out."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. So I got a type. Whoopty do."

"At least Shawn's a good one."

"You saying I have poor taste?"

Jodi picks up a few large envelopes and stares at you over them. "You're joking right? Tate? Remember that hot garbage of a few months ago?"

"Yeah but Chase before him wasn't garbage."

"Chase was a two month fling while you worked the circuit with me. Was he ever anything?"

You flop down onto the couch under the window that overlooks the gym. "I guess not. So what, Shawn's a fighter and I like fighters. Maybe he'll be a keeper."

"Ex fighter."

"Hmm?"

"Shawn's an ex fighter." Jodi types aways at her computer and you wait for her to continue. "He doesn't fight anymore. What?"

"He doesn't? Why? He looked healthy."

"Personal choice. Harlow has been trying to book him on the circuit for years. He keeps in shape and trains other fighters for Harlow but he's not getting in that ring for anything. It's a shame, he was a two time champion."

You look out the window to where Shawn is running along the mats on the far side of the gym with a towel. You wonder what made him stop competing. A guy like him could take out anyone his weight. No doubt. You'd seen him spare with Tate once when he trained with him. Shawn has the skill, what would drive him to waste it?

_____________________

Dixie's is a hole in the wall kind of place. Definitely a local spot and everyone in town goes there. It's a bar and restaurant that serves your classic American staples, burgers, fries, steak and sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but the food is good and homemade. The day time crowd at Dixie's is mostly families, regular customers on their lunch breaks or afternoon meetups, occasionally a truck driver or two since it's on the edge of the town. The night time crowd at Dixie's is much different, very adult orientated. They didn't let kids in after eight since that's when most of the drunks and party goers start showing up. Most people know to avoid Dixie's for a late dinner lest you be caught up in a fight or have to listen to some guy babble on about the good ole days for four hours.

You work the night shift at the bar. You don't mind, you tended places much worse. Hell, you lived in Vegas for a year after graduation and that's where you learned to bartend. When you're raised in hell, the rest of the world doesn't seem so bad.

"Hey! You made it!" Carrie says from the door to the kitchen. "I was worried you wouldn't come back after last week."

"What? Greg? Please, I've dealt with a lot worse then having a drink thrown at me and being called a raging bitch." You place your purse under the counter behind the bar in a little safe. Carrie didn't fuck around when it came to safety and personal belongings in her bar.

"Oh thank God. Greg is an asshole but if you made it through the night with him I think you'll be alright."

"I worked in Vegas, Carrie." You grab your apron off the wall beside her. "I've seen shit. Greg, ain't shit."

Carrie looks incredibly relieved. "I've had four bartenders walk out because of him."

"Yeah, well, they weren't me." You wave to one of the waitresses, Sammy, coming in for her shift. The two of you hit it off really well last week so you're excited to work with her tonight."Besides, I'd like to stick around."

Carrie pushes open the kitchen door and you follow her in. "Oh yeah? Find a love interest?"

"I don't think I'd call him that yet. But I'm definitely interested." You grab a few plates off the warming table to help Carrie serve them. "We've met before."

"Oh wow, coincidence huh? You just moved here right?"

"Yeah. It's so weird, but he's a fighter who trained with my ex boyfriend a year ago. I guess I'm bound to meet people from the same circuit."

Carrie chuckles and leads the way with her arms full of plates. "You like those fighters huh? We got a lot of those type around here."

"I do." You fall silent as you help Carrie serve the large group of middle aged people at the front of the seating area. As soon as you're done Carrie walks with you to the bar.

"Anyway, those fighters are always coming in here. I don't mind the business of course, they eat a lot. But some of them also drink alot and bar fights between fighters is a nightmare."

"Don't worry, I can handle them." You wipe out some glasses on the drying station and Carrie starts going through the liquor stock to see what she needs to bring out of the back for the night. "I swear, I'm sticking around."

Carrie pauses and looks over at you. "You seem pretty set on it."

"Yeah, I am. Things are good here. I have my own place, I'm near my best friend, there's a hot fighter who I wanna get to know. It's good. A fresh start."

"I'm happy for you dear." Her hand comes down on your shoulder and you look over at her. She's smiling, her big round glasses sitting too low on her nose. She blows a stray curl out of her face and pats your shoulder a few times. "You're a good kid."

"I try to be." You chuckle. "Anyway, looks like it's kicking off early tonight." You point at a group of guys who have just walked in, some fighters by the looks of them. Out of circuit fighters, the kind who drink too much and let their bodies get weakened by alcohol. You scoff to yourself. Frat boys with too many muscles and big dreams but no dedication. A bunch of Tate Greysons'. It's gonna be a long night.

___________________

"Pierce! Focus!" Harlow yells from the office doorway at the top of the stairs. Shawn is standing in the ring with his client for the day but he keeps looking over at you where you're talking to Jodi near the bathrooms.

You look over and bite your lip, knowing you got him in trouble. "Anyways, as I was saying," you turn back to Jodi and she's grinning. "What?"

"Harlow is gonna kick his ass if he doesn't stop gawking at you." She looks up at her wife through the window and she's pacing the office, watching Shawn like a hawk. "You're quite a distraction."

"I don't mean to be. I'm just standing here for fucks sake." You gesture to your jeans and plain tee shirt. "I'm not even dressed up!"

Jodi laughs. "Shawn's just soft, he's got your attention and he doesn't want to lose it. I don't know the last time he had a girlfriend."

"Really?" You look back. "A guy like him has been single for-" Shawn gets clocked in the head. "Oh shit."

Jodi sighs. "Moron."

You jog over to the ring and hold onto the cage, staring at Shawn on the ground. "Are you okay?!"

"Dude, you went down like a sack of bricks." The other fighter says, kneeling on one knee beside Shawn. "Dude?"

"Is he knocked out?" You ask, walking along the ring to climb the stairs at the open entryway. "Shawn?"

"I haven't been hit that hard in years." Shawn groans, eyes closed. "Good left hook, Connor."

"Thanks, but for real are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Shawn sits up and holds his head. "Y'know no matter how many fights you're in, and how much training you do, getting hit hurts worse when you're not expecting it."

"Getting hit hurts in general." You laugh and help him up on his feet. "And you would have expected it if you weren't staring at me."  

Connor snickers.

"I was not staring." Shawn stretches his arms and shakes off the hit.

"Yeah? Why'd you get hit then?"

"We're sparing."

"Uh huh." You look to Connor. "Did he seem distracted?"

"Very."

"Mmm thought so." You turn and walk out of the cage with a glance back with a small smile.

Shawn calls out to you as you cross the gym floor. "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?!"

"Stop staring at me and actually talk to me is what it means!" You laugh and meet up with Jodi outside the office. "God he's ridiculous."

"He hasn't asked you out yet?"

"No! It's been a week since we met. He just stares at me when I'm here and occasionally says no more than four words to me." You glance over and Shawn and Connor have changed positions so Shawn is with his back to you. "I think he's shy."

"Shawn? Nah. He's sweet, always has been. I think he's just cautious because he knows you just got out of a relationship, and one with a former trainee of his too. I'd be cautious."

"Well light a fire under his ass for me will you?"

Jodi gives you a thumbs up. "I'll get right on that boss. Matchmaker Jodi Price is on the case!"

"Oh shut up. Just talk to him?"

"I will." Jodi grabs her keys from Harlow as she steps out of the office. "We'll be back later honey."

"I'll pick up dinner." Harlow looks out at Connor and Shawn. "If I'm late it's because I've got two man-children to deal with."

"Easy on him. He's got feelings for our girl here."

Harlow rolls her eyes. "I don't pay him to have feelings."

"You're such a hardass, Harlow." You laugh and she smirks. "I promise I'll try not to stop in too much when he's training Connor."

"Yeah yeah." Harlow waves you off. "Get out of here, go have fun."

"Picking up furniture at Ikea isn't fun." Jodi says in annoyance.

"Mmhmm. Sure its not. Bye bye." Harlow walks toward the window to the gym floor and you wave goodbye.

"Come on." You put your arm around Jodi's shoulders. "Let's go build some skeptical furniture and relive the good ole days."

Jodi laughs. "Yeah, the good ole days of duct taped chair legs and book balanced tables. God I hope these Ikea things will be better than our crap back then."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

_____________________

Building furniture is a nightmare. You and Jodi spend an hour putting together a dresser that you end up abandoning in favor of Chinese take out and a rerun of Chopped you hadn't seen before while sitting on the boxes for your nightstand and kitchen cart. You still have both of those items plus your bed frame to build. You'll get to it eventually.

Eventually leads to three days later and you still have the boxes propped against the wall of your living room where you and Jodi abandoned them after dinner. Every day you walk past them and think, maybe that day, but then you keep going. It's not until today, Friday, your day off, that you might actually get them built.

"Hey, what're you doing tonight?" Shawn asks as he steps down out of the cage. You've been watching him spar with one of the other trainers for an hour now after stopping by to help Jodi read over some paperwork for the gyms lease.

"Me?"

He grins. "Yeah, you."

"Building furniture for my house."

He chuckles and sinks into the chair next to you, observing two fighters now sparing on the mats nearby. "Sounds like a wild time."

"Oh it will be. I'll probably decide to get drunk halfway through and just say fuck it again." You laugh to yourself. "Drunk lonely furniture building on a Friday night. I've reached my peak at age twenty four."

"Need some help?" Shawn looks over and you raise your eyebrows. He is really making a move. Finally.

"You sure you don't have some floors to clean or something?" You ask, referencing the last time he tried to get out of your attempt to instigate a date. He is a weird one, definitely interested but hesitant for some reason. You get what Jodi said, about him being cautious because of your past with Tate but it's been almost five months. You're ready to move the fuck on. You gotta make it clear to this man you're ready.

Shawn smiles and looks away. "Okay, fair enough. Just call me out why don't you?"

"Yeah? You realize you've been dragging this out?"

"Yeah yeah. So can I come over?"

You grin and cross your arms. "I guess. What do you drink?"

"Tequila?" He says with a smirk as he starts unwrapping his hands.

"I'm not buying tequila. I don't know about you but tequila fucks me up and I will make some bad decisions."

"Me too, maybe we should go for it then."

"Absolutely not." You reach over and grab Shawn's hand as he picks at a piece of the fabric that's tucked too tightly under another. "How about we just start with some hard lemonade or something?"

Shawn smiles and closes his big hand over yours. "It's a date then?"

"Is it a date?"

"Could be."

"Let's just call it hanging out for now." You place the coiled up wad of wrapping fabric in Shawn's hand. "Now, I'm going to get lunch at Dixie's. You want something?"

"Nah, I brought lunch." Shawn looks over at the sitting area where Harlow has set up a refrigerator, a stand with a microwave and a few little tables with chairs. "Leftover chicken and rice."

You stand and Shawn stands with you. He flexes his hand a few times to work out the stiffness of it being bound too tight in the wrapping. You head for the office stairs to see if the ladies want lunch too. "I'll let you know when I'm heading home so you can follow me."

"Works for me."

"Oh, and don't wrap your hand so tight next time." You point at his hand. "You should know better."

Shawn grins sheepishly. "Maybe someone else should wrap it for me?"

"Maybe." You smile and he just grins.

_____________________

"Hey Jodi have you seen- oh." Shawn leans against the door as he looks between you and Jodi on the couch in the office. It's almost seven and you had completely lost track of time.

"Yeah?"

"Whatcha doing?"

Jodi holds her half wrapped hand up to show Shawn. "Teaching her to wrap."

Shawn smirks. "Your ex never taught you?"

"Tate didn't like having me around too much when he was fighting. He said I distracted him. So I didn't get to wrap his hands but once or twice."

"What a dick. Well I'm done cleaning up for the day, are you ready to go?"

Jodi raises her eyebrows. "Y'all have a date? And you didn't tell me?"

"It's not a date." You roll your eyes. "He's just going to help me with the furniture."

"So he's gonna be at your house with you alone?"

"Yes." You stand and Jodi unwinds her hand. "Now don't say another word missy." Jodi just snickers and you grab your purse. "Let's go Shawn."

An hour into furniture building and you're sure you're going to combust. Shawn is so big and thick, and close. He's in a pair of tight black jeans and a black tank top, having forgone his shirt almost as soon as you started working. He is just...he's too much. You thought Tate was big, you thought Tate was ripped and he was but not like Shawn. The way Shawn is built and the way he moves so fluidly is just...it's enough to stop your heart.

"Hey, hello?" He waves his hand in your face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah?"

Shawn chuckles and leans back on his forearms. "What'd I say?"

"Hello?"

"Nope. I asked you if you wanted to get dinner."

"Oh." You push your hair back out of your face and look up at the clock over your kitchen table. "It's almost eight. Shit."

"So? Do you work tomorrow?"

"Yeah in the evening, but I didn't mean to keep you this late."

"It's not late?" Shawn laughs. "It's no big deal. I'm off tomorrow. I'll order something and we'll keep putting together this bed frame, sleeping on a mattress on the floor is bad for your back."

"Mmmhmm. Sure you don't just want to stay late to get me on this bed after we put it together?"

Shawn sits up, leans forward onto his hands and knees, face close to yours as he pushes himself up off the floor. "Oh I'll be much more upfront when I wanna do that." He pulls out his phone and you flush hot. "What sounds good? Pizza? Wings? Chinese?"

"Don't you need to eat healthy?"

"I do." He smiles over at you. "It's alright to indulge now and then."

"Oh."

"None of this is going away because I eat some pizza now and then." He gestures up and down himself. "I know that sounds incredibly pretentious but I worked hard for this strength. I'm having pizza." He puts the phone up to his ear and walks around the room aimlessly as it rings.

"Tate never wanted to get dinner. He said it'd ruin his diet." You stand and look around at the scattered pieces of the bed frame and your stomach rumbles loudly.

"Yeah because he was an idiot." Shawn says softly before answering the phone and placing an order for a medium taco pizza.

You raise your eyebrows and he grins. How did he happen to know your favorite pizza? There was no way he could have known or guessed. Taco pizza was not an every day order.

"Thank you bye." He pockets his phone. "Anyway Tate was obsessed with his eating habits. I remember sitting him down and explaining that he actually needs to eat real food and not protein shakes and supplements for every meal. He didn't ever listen though."

"Yeah he was an idiot, okay, but how did you know I like taco pizza?"

"Wild guess."

"Uh uh. Who told you?"

Shawn holds his hands up. "Honest to God, you want the truth?"

"Yeah. Who was it?"

"No one. Seriously, it was a wild guess. I like taco pizza and I noticed you have little taco magnets on the fridge and a taco pillow on your couch so I figured maybe you like them too. Seriously, it was a shot in the dark."

You stare at him slack jawed. He had been in your house for an hour and he noticed your taco magnets? That was...just so...weird? What else did he notice? You look around your room suddenly very self conscious of everything you have sitting on the dresser and nightstand. "I...I don't know what to say about that."

"About what?"

"About how observant you are."

"Oh. Should I not be?"

"N-no, I mean, it's fine? I've just never had someone pay attention to my stuff I guess."

Shawn chuckles and gets down on his knees to start taking the rest of the bed frame pieces from the box. You definitely don't miss how his ass is perfectly accentuated by the dip of his jeans. "Well, I like your place, it's interesting and cozy. Sorry if that's weird, I don't mean it to be."

"It's fine." You get down next to him, eyes still on his butt and he hands you a bag of screws. "It's just different. You're different." He leans forward to grab a bar from the frame and the way his back curves makes you want to grab his ass so bad. It's perfectly round and you just want to feel it so badly.

He glances over with a smile as he sits back on his knees. "Is that good?"

"W-what?" You feel a flush on your cheeks. Was he talking about your staring? Was he good? Because yes, a thousand times yes he was.

"Is it good that I'm different?"

"Oh! Yeah, very good." You smile and look down with a chuckle as you dump the bag of screws into a little Tupperware bowl he hands you that you've been using for small parts so nothing gets lost. "I like different."

"Me too." He grins and you meet his eyes. "Let's get this bed together so we can relax when the pizza gets here."

"Sounds like a plan."

_____________________

"Busy night?"

You look up from the back of the bar and see Shawn sitting a few seats down from you. He's smiling, hair pushed back looking like a damn angel in his white tee. The bar has been crowded for two hours now, a huge bachelor party of some sort taking up most of the space in the building. You and Sammy have been working double time to get food and drinks out as quick as possible. Big parties of guys meant big tips, keep them happy, keep that tip growing.

"Yeah." You glance over to the loud crowd nearby. "Bachelor party."

"I see. Must be fun?"

"For me or them?"

"Both?"

You chuckle and walk down to stand in front of him. "Is it fun making drinks? Yes. Is it fun watching a bunch of twenty some year olds get hammered while getting hit on by every one of them? Not so much."

Shawn waves off a drink offer as you gesture to the bar behind you. "I just came by to see how you were doing. You haven't been by the gym in a few days."

"Oh, you noticed." You lean back and smile. "I've been working doubles. Carrie has had a cold and I didn't want her to push herself. I'm a lot younger, I can't handle a few days of work."

Shawn cracks open a peanut from the bucket on the counter for customers. "You're a sweetheart." He grins and pops the peanut in his mouth. "Glad you're alright though."

"Did you think I was avoiding you?"

"Nah. Well, a little?" He chuckles and hangs his head. "Honestly I thought I fucked up the night we put together your bed."

You step forward and fold your arms on the counter in front of him. "I'd tell you if you fucked up. Trust me, you haven't done anything to put me off."

"Good. What do you say to lunch Wednesday?"

"I'd say I hope you like Dixie's pulled pork special because that's where I'll be."

"You work dayshift again?" He shakes his head.

"Yep. My last double."

"Okay, alright. I'll stop by?"

"I'd love it."

Shawn looks over at the party of guys getting loud again. "I'm gonna head out before that gets too wild. Stay safe honey."

"Bye Shawn." You roll your eyes at his ridiculous pet name and he waves as he heads out.

____________________

"How's Connor doing?" You ask as you watch the young fighter spar with one of the other guys while Shawn is taking a break in the office.  

"The kid is insane. He's fast, strong, smart too. He reminds me of myself when I was nineteen."

You look over and Shawn is tossing a stress ball up at the ceiling casually. "Connor is nineteen?"

"Yeah." He looks over with a grin. "Why? Thought he was cute?"

"Shawn! God, no. I'm just surprised Harlow took on a guy that young."

"I was too. I remember when Connor walked into this gym. He was a short little sixteen year old with no intention of doing anything but bulking up a bit."

"He didn't wanna be a fighter?"

"Nope." Shawn chuckles. "He came to take some HIIT classes and some CrossFit bullshit Harlow had let a trainer do for a few months. I think once he saw me and Mike in the ring he caught the bug."

You watch as Connor takes down his opponent, pinning him to the mat. Shawn's right, he is fast and strong for his size. His practice opponent is easily twenty pounds heavier than him and he is taking him down like it's nothing. "You think he's gonna make it to championship finals?"

"He going to make it to nationals if I have any say in it. He has what it takes, he's got the heart and soul of a fighter. You don't see that everyday. I've trained a lot of guys in the last few years and they just don't have what Connor has."

"Has any of your trainees made it to the championship circuit?"

"No. Not yet." Shawn looks over and you chuckle. "What? You think I'm not good at training?"

"Not that. I'm just laughing because your last trainee was Tate right?"

"Yeah."

"He definitely didn't have what it takes."

"He didn't. He couldn't listen, just wanted to do what he thought was right. You'd think when a two time western champion and two time national finalist takes the time to train you, you might try and give a fuck." Shawn sits up and squeezes the shit out of his stress ball. "Tate honest to God pissed me off like no other."

You raise your eyebrows and giggle. How funny it was that the two of you shared the same distaste for Tate. "He was something."

"No. He's nothing and he's never going to be until he gets his head out of his ass."

"Harsh."

"You think so? I'm sure you've thought the same thing."

You smirk. "I've definitely thought worse."

"And I'm harsh?"

"I haven't said it out loud." You scoff and lean back in Jodi's chair. "But someone should."

Shawn stands and walks over to the desk. He leans forward and smirks. "I'd tell that sorry piece of shit every single thing you wish you could say to him. I'd hand deliver it to him right in his smug fuckin jaw."

"Easy tiger." You run your hand up his arm, fingers curling against bicep and he drops his head. "No need for the violence. Fighting is an art not a brawl."

"You-"

"I'm using your own words against you?" You smirk and stand up, checking a message on your phone from Sammy about stopping by for tips from last night.

Shawn straightens up with a grin and shakes his head. "You remember me telling Tate that?"

"It's the first thing I ever heard you say to him."

"Tate is a dumbass for losing a woman like you, y'know?"

"Yeah." You walk around and past Shawn toward the door. "But if he wasn't, I wouldn't have ever found a man worth fighting for."

_____________________

Wednesday afternoon is a shit show. For some reason there are a couple day drinkers in at the bar and they won't stop bugging Sammy. She's covering a shift for one of the other waitresses, Megan, since it's her birthday and she's seriously regretting it. Day shift is supposed to be easy. The worst part being an occasional kid throwing food around. Poor girl.

"I just can't do it," Sammy hisses as she stands beside you at the end of the bar at the wash station. "That guy over there has been harassing me non stop. I've tried everything to get him to fuck off."

You take a look over at the end of the bar and you know exactly which guy it is. He's in his thirties, probably an insurance broker or real estate agent by the looks of his tailored suit and gray temples. He looks older than he should. There's a glass of whiskey in his hand that you served him about ten minutes ago. He's the one you were about to cut off and send packing anyways.

"Want me to make him leave?"

"Do you have a bouncer?" Sammy glances over your shoulder. "Because I don't think he's going to leave so easily."

"Well, how about we make him realize you're not into him?"

"By doing what?"

You smirk and set down your dirty glasses into the sink. "I can stage kiss you. I used to do it all the time with my friends back in Vegas." You look down at the guy. He'd definitely fall for it, he was too drunk to see straight. "We'll make a show of it."

"I don't know." Sammy twists her hands in her apron. "Maybe he'll just leave?"

"Sammy. He's not gonna leave if he thinks he has even an inkling of a chance." You pull Sammy down the bar closer to where the creep is sitting. "It's up to you. He's watching us right now."

"Okay, okay." She shakes her hands out and puts her hand on your shoulder, going up to your neck. You can see her glance over at the guy. "It's working he's watching intently."

"Good." You cup her cheek and bring your other hand up to here jaw and cover her mouth with the side or your palm as you pretend to kiss her. "Is he looking?"

"Mmhyeah."

You pull back and give Sammy a hug before going down the bar to the creep. "Do you need a refill on that?" You ask, pointing to his nearly empty glass. You weren't really going to give him a refill, he'd had more than enough.

"No." He grumbles and stands up. "I'm going home." He passes you his credit card and you settle his tab. "Thanks."

Sammy beams from her spot by the liquor shelves. "I can't believe that worked!"

"Almost every time." You walk over and hand her the ones the creep had left as a tip under his cup. "For you dear."

"Thanks." Sammy pockets the bills and smiles. "I wish I had you years ago."

"Well I'm here now." You ruffle her hair and she ducks away. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Keep an eye out for Shawn? He is supposed to be coming in for lunch."

"Ohhh." Sammy smirks. "You got a little crush on the big boy?"

"Obviously." You toss your bar rag over your shoulder and head for a lady who's just walked up at the end of the bar. "How couldn't I?"

"He's a good one!" Sammy laughs and heads off to check on her tables while you get back to bartending.

_____________________

Shawn never showed up for lunch. You can't say you weren't a little disappointed since you had made plans, but you understand that he may have gotten busy at the gym. Things happen. It isn't a big deal.

You stop by the gym the next day to help Jodi with registration for the fall championship circuit for the western region. She had to have all of the fighters from Harlow's registered and ready to go by Monday. It is a ton of paperwork and you know what to do, so you volunteer to help out before work.

"Can you go get Jack for me? I need to talk to him about getting me a copy of his physical."

"Yep." You push away from her desk and head out the door. The locker rooms are to the right of the main floor of the gym and you head there first.

"Dude, I saw her kissing Sammy."

You freeze and listen to the conversation you've walked up on. It's clearly Shawn.

"So? What's the big deal?" It's Connor.

"I thought she was into me. We've been flirting and stuff and then I walk into Dixie's for lunch and she's kissing the waitress! I thought she was into guys!"

Connor laughs and sighs. "I dunno dude."

"I can be into both." You say, stepping into view and getting a good look at Shawn in nothing but a towel. He's dripping wet and it's so hard to focus on the conversation at hand, you have to look away. "Maybe if you wanted to know what was going on, you should ask me?"

Connor's eyes go wide and he looks between the two of you before ducking his head and squeezing around Shawn to make himself scarce.

"I know you can like whoever you want...I just thought..."

"Shawn." You walk over to him and lay your hand on his chest. He's warm and damp and oh Lord when he shifts you can feel the muscle flex. "Relax. I pretended to kiss Sammy so a guy at the bar would stop harassing her."

"Oh."

"Is that why you didn't show up for lunch?"

"Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck. "I walked in and saw that kiss and I didn't know what to think. I'm sorry, I should have asked you."

"It's fine. I probably would have been really confused too." You look him over and he smirks. "I swear I'm still very much into you."

"Yeah? Enough to go on a real date?"

"Mmm I think it's time we did. Any plans?"

Shawn grins. "I have a few. How's this Saturday night sound?"

"I'm off. What time?"

"Six? I'll pick you up. Wear something comfortable and not too fancy."

You raise your eyebrows and he just keeps smiling. "Alright. I'll see you then. In the meantime, have you seen Jack? We need a copy of his latest physical for the registration."

"He's probably out on the floor. If you didn't see him, check the backroom because he might be resting on the spare mats."

"In the storage area?"

"Yeah." He chuckles. "He likes to meditate and listen to his audio books back there to relax."

"Oh. Well thanks." You pat Shawn's chest and he traps your hand under his, curling his fingers around yours. "Yes?"

He bites his lip and shakes his head before releasing your hand. "Nothing. Go on."

"See you in a bit."

_____________________

"Do you still do photography?" Harlow asks you Friday day while you, her and Jodi sit in their living room while going over travel plans for the out of state fights in this year's competition.

"A little bit. I don't do anything professionally anymore."

"But you have your camera?"

"Yeah of course and my lenses. Why?"

Harlow grins. "If I hire you, will you do the photography for the website? I need pictures of all the guys for the brackets this year."

"Sure I can do that. I think I have a my backdrop stuff still as well."

"You'll probably get to photograph Shawn too." Jodi pipes up from where she's typing away at the laptop. "You could take a few just for yourself."

"Jodi!"

"What?"

Harlow groans and shoves her wife's shoulder. "I'm hiring her for a professional shoot, quit teasing her."

"Yeah yeah."

"What time do you want me to stop by? I'm free this weekend and next Thursday all day. Otherwise I work after six."

"Stop by whenever you want. I'm sure it'll take a few days to get all the fighters done and we have a few weeks before fights start. We'll start with Connor when you do get set up. He's my headliner. I'm banking on him hard so I want his photos to be really good."

"Yes ma'am."

_____________________

"So you're doing photos for Harlow?"

You look over at Shawn from the passenger side of his truck. He'd picked you up at a little after six and still wouldn't tell you where you're going. He did make you change into an old pair of jeans instead of the black skinnies you had on and promised you wouldn't regret it. You're almost convinced he's taking you mudding outside of town because you've been driving for twenty minutes and you're still not sure where the hell you are.

"Yeah, I'm doing photos for her? Why?"

"No reason, I was curious."

"You want me to take pictures of you too?"

"I'm not a fighter in the circuit."

"So?"

Shawn looks over and raises his eyebrows. "So why would you take pictures of me?"

"Because you're gorgeous." You look out the window away from him, heart racing at your admission. "I'd die to photograph you in action. You're a rarity, perfect from every angle. It'd be a treat."

"I had no idea you were so into photography. That's awesome." He bumps your leg and you look over. "I'd love to see what kind of photos you take at matches."

"I've taken some good ones. But like I said, I really want to photograph you."

He chuckles. "Sorry sweetheart. I'm retired." He turns the truck down a dirt road toward a big sign that says Pierce Ranch.

"You have a farm?"

"No, my uncle does."

"Why are we going to your uncle's farm?"

"Because I'm taking you horseback riding."

"What? You're serious?"

Shawn turns the truck into a long driveway in front of a big sprawling house. "Dead serious. My uncle is out of town for a few days and he said we could come out and spend some time out here."

You sit stunned in silence. Horseback riding as a first date. Who thought of that? It's so off the wall and incredibly romantic.

"Should we go back?"

You snap out of your thoughts and look over at Shawn as he kills the engine in front of a set of garages. He looks worried. "No, why?"

"You're really quiet. If you don't want to do this we can just go to dinner or something. I know it's kind of different and-"

"I want to go horseback riding."

"Oh." He smiles big and you can see the relief on his face. "Okay good. I'm really looking forward to having you meet my favorite horse."

You put your hand on the door to get out. "I can't wait."

An hour later and you're set up on a horse named Butters, his favorite, and you're strolling along side Shawn on a well worn path around some trees behind the barns. You were nervous at first, needing Shawn's help to stay on the horse but eventually you got the hang of it.

"So, you must really like horses then?" You giggle, looking over at Shawn during a lull in conversation.

"Yeah. I used to spend every summer here with my Uncle Carlos. I still come out here pretty often when I need to relax and get away from it all."

"Ahh, I can see why. It's nice." You bite your lip and glance over. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?" He chuckles. "Usually that's how dates go."

"Why don't you fight anymore?"

Shawn is quiet. You know it's a sore subject, seeing as no one really wanted to get too in depth when they talked about Shawn's past. You're curious though. A man like him with his skills and experience could still be in the ring.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I-I knew you'd ask eventually." He sighs and guides the horses to a clearing in the trees. He slides off and hitches his horse and then yours to a tree before helping you down.

"Seriously, you seem uncomfortable to talk about it. We don't have to."

Shawn stuffs his hands into his pockets as the two of you head for a bunch of rocks. There's a stream nearby and you can hear the water trickling along the rocks you're walking toward. This place is incredibly serene and you feel bad for bringing up such a tense subject when the date has been going so well.

"So, three years ago I won my second championship." Shawn drops down onto a large flat boulder. "But, the fight was so intense I almost killed my opponent. Now I know, fights get rough and tension runs high in the ring when there's a lot of money and a title at stake. It wasn't about that though. I kicked my opponent so hard he dropped, he just went down, lights out. It wasn't until after everything was said and done I found out he had serious brain trauma from the fight, particularly from my kick."

You sit down next to Shawn and grab his hand. He rubs his thumbs over your fingers gently before continuing.

"I found out he had a newborn baby. I accidentally almost killed this man and took him away from his child because of a sport. I had to stop after that. I couldn't do it anymore."

"Oh Shawn." You squeeze his hand and he looks at you. "You didn't kill him though. He's fine, he's alive and with his child. It is part of the risks you take as fighters."

"I know. I just couldn't deal with that sort of thing happening again. I've made my peace with it and with fighting."

"I understand." You scoot a little closer and he runs his free hand over his hair. "You're a great trainer. Maybe being a fighter isn't for you anymore, but your skills aren't wasted this way. Do you want to fight?"

"To be completely honest, yes. I want to fight every single day, I itch to compete and I think that's why I push Connor so hard. I'm living vicariously."

"Maybe you could do some small time stuff? Not such high stakes?"

"I can't." He shakes his head. "When I'm in the ring I don't stop, I fight hard until I'm out or I win. It's all or nothing."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But anyways, I'm happy training." He smiles, soft and small but genuine nonetheless. "I'm proud to be training a fighter like Connor."

"Good. That's what matters." You bite your lip and giggle to yourself. "I much rather see you like this then all beat up anyway."

"Oh yeah? Not into the black eye and busted lip look?"

"Not on you." You reach out and tenderly turn his face to you. "You're too gorgeous to see damaged."

"I'm gorgeous?" Shawn smirks and runs his hand over your hair. "I think you're mistaken. You're the gorgeous one here." He cradles your face in his hand and just stares at you lovingly.

"No, definitely not." There's a moment where you're both staring at each other's lips and you both know that you want to make a move but it's too soon. Or is it?

Shawn's hand slides away from your face and he stands, offering to help you up. "Let's go back. I've got stuff to make dinner."

"You're making me dinner?"

He hauls you up against him. "Mmhmm. You can help if you'd like." He holds you steady by your hips. "How does spaghetti and meatballs sound?"

"Really good."

"Good." He puts his arm around your shoulders and starts walking back to the horses. "Because when we both have garlic breath the rest of the night won't matter."

You laugh and he just beams at you. "You're something else." You run your hand over his back and he leans his head on yours. "I like it, I like you."

"I like you too."

_____________________

Wednesday night comes around again quicker than ever and Dixie's is crawling with people. All the fighters from Harlow's have showed up to celebrate the announcement of the western circuit championship bracket. Shawn shows up a little after nine and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. He smiles back and makes your heart beat faster. Things have been going incredibly well with him since the date at the ranch. You're falling hard and fast and you don't really want to stop.

"Hey darling," Shawn says over the loudness as he leans against an empty spot at the bar. "How's it going?"

"Packed! Harlow brought all the guys and their friends and families in! It's crazy."

"Good for business though."

"Very. Carrie is moving faster than I've ever seen her go. We've had to pull Dave from the kitchen twice to help me catch up with drinks. We're gonna need to restock." You laugh and point back at the bar. "My tips are racking up fast too."

Shawn looks you over in your required black tee and apron. It's nothing special, but you know it looks good on you and so does he. "You deserve every dollar you get tonight. You're working hard."

"I am. Can I get you something?"

"Just a diet coke is fine. I'm taking it easy in case anyone needs a ride home tonight."

You turn around and fill a glass from the soda guns attached to the counter. "Enjoy yourself, you got most of these guys to this competition after all."

Shawn raises his drink to that and smiles. "I'm going to go hang out with Connor and Jack. I'll check in later?"

"I'll be here."

Two hours later and you are pushing through the kitchen doors to find Carrie. There's a guy who's harassing you and he's way more wasted then he should be, you've only served him three drinks and they weren't that strong. You suspect he may be taking something along with his drinks and Carrie won't have that sort of activity in her establishment.

"We've got a problem." You state angrily, gripping the doorway to the walk in cooler. "It's that asshole who's been trying to get my number since he sat down."

"Yeah?" Carrie turns to look at you as she hauls out a box of burger patties for the cooks. "Is he tweaked out?"

"I think so. He just grabbed my chest when I leaned over to hand some drinks to a guy beside him."

Carrie is livid, her eyes look like she could kill a man with her bare hands and possible has before. "Oh he's gone, I'm gonna-"

A loud crash from beyond the kitchen stuns you both and not a second later Dave, the line prep cook, throws open the door to the backroom and says there's a fight in the front area. Carrie drops the box of burgers in the cooler and closes the door as she hightails it to the front with you on her heels.

The scene before you is not pretty and immediately you think that it's one of the fighters involved. You're right. It's a fighter. But not a current one. It's Shawn and he is standing in front of the bar squared up with the drunk grabby handed guy. There is an overturned table and chairs and you think Shawn's already knocked the asshole down once, or he stumbled into the table and fell.

"Shawn!" You try to yell over the crowd but it's way too loud.

Carrie pushes past you and shoves her tiny frame through the crowd. You decide to go around to get behind the bar and as soon as you do you see a mess of shattered glass and ice on the floor.

"Shawn!" You shout, hands cupped around your mouth. "Shawn stop!"

He isn't listening or he can't hear you. Either way he's swinging at the drunk guy again in defense and before anything can get worse, the cops show up. You watch as the crowd separates and drunk grabby hands gets cuffed while Shawn tries to talk to the cops. It's no use and you watch them walk Shawn out of the bar as well.

You lean on the counter with your back to the door as the two guys get escorted out. Great. You can't help but feel like this is your fault. Shawn must have seen the move grabby hands pulled and approached him. You run your hand over your hair and look to Carrie as she steps behind the bar.

"God damn fighters. This is such a mess!"

"Yeah it is." You chuckle dryly to yourself. "It sure is."

______________________

You didn't think you'd ever be waiting in the lobby of a police station at three in the morning but here you are. Harlow was going to come with, in fact she was going to go alone and bail Shawn out but Jodi was absolutely trashed and you know she needed to take care of her over Shawn, so you said you would go. Besides, you wanted to talk with him one on one about the fight and why it happened.

You hear Shawn before you see him. He's coming down the hall behind the check in desk. "What do you mean my girlfriend came and-"

"Hey," you wave and he walks over to you quickly and hugs you tight.

"Thank God you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay. What would have happened to me?"

Shawn pulls you back and holds your face. "I couldn't find you after that guy put his hands on you. I was worried you left Dixie's or he did something."

"Shawn, he was wasted. What was he going to do to me? He could hardly stand."

"I don't know. I approached him after I saw what happened and he was talking all this shit like what he wanted to do to you. God it was disgusting, and then I didn't see you around and I panicked."

You cup his face and he has a bruise blossoming on his left jaw. "So your instinct was to fight him?"

"He came at me. I was just going to get some of the guys to help me escort him out but he started swinging as soon as I said he needed to go."

"Well it's done and over with now." You turn and head for the doors. "I'll take you to get your truck at the bar."

The ride to Dixie's is quiet. The dark streets are empty, illuminated only by the soft yellow street lights that have been there for far longer than they should be. Seriously the light is so dim it hardly lights up the road. You turn down the street you live on to take a shortcut to Dixie's and as you pass your house you glance at it instinctively.

You slam on the breaks just past your driveway. "What the fuck?" You put the car in park and squint at your darkened front door, or lack thereof. The door is open, gone by the looks of it.

"Don't get out of the car." Shawn warns, flipping the lock button. "Someone could still be in there. Call the cops and back up out of sight."

You fumble with your phone and put it up to your ear. You report the break in and your street name. As soon as you're done you reverse down the street until you're a few houses away.

Shawn reaches over and lays his hand on your shoulder. "Do you know anyone who might have done this?"

"No. I have no idea. I don't even have anything worth stealing!" You lean your head on the steering wheel. "I don't understand. Could this night get any worse?"

"Don't say that." Shawn rubs up and down your back. "It's not the end of the world. We'll find out what's going on."

"What if I had gone home from Dixie's? What if I didn't come pick you up?" You look at the darkened house. "What if I was there?"

"You weren't. That's what matters. Look," he points to a police car coming down the street. "Here comes the cops."

"Will you go in with me?"

"Of course. You think I'm gonna just stay in the car?" Shawn grabs your hand and kisses it gently. "Come on, let's go talk to the cops."

An hour later and you've filed a full report with Officer Jones. There was nothing stolen as far as you can see. The house is fine, completely in order except for your room. Your dresser had been torn through and your closet emptied out, bed sheets and blankets torn apart too. You have absolutely no idea what someone was looking for and Officer Jones kept asking if you were completely sure you didn't know who could have done this.

It's nearly five in the morning and you are exhausted. The sun is coming up and the sky outside is getting brighter by the minute. You need to sleep and you don't feel safe in your house with the door broken and your bedroom torn apart.

"Grab some clothes, I'm gonna take you to my place." Shawn says, walking around your mess of a bedroom. "We'll take care of the broken door frame and stuff later."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Come on. I know we're both exhausted so I'll drive and we'll pick up my truck tomorrow. We need to rest, it's been a long night."

You grab a tote bag from your closet and throw a few shirts and jeans in it with some underwear. "I could stay with Jodi."

"I really would feel better if you stayed with me." Shawn takes the bag from you as you grab a pair of shoes and socks by the dresser. "Are you okay with it?"

"Of course Shawn." You join him by the door and lay your hand on his shoulder. "I trust you. We'll go to your place. If you want to take that stuff to the car I'm going to grab my camera gear. I told Harlow I'd start doing photos tomo- today." You sigh. "Well, I'll try and get everything set up after we get a few hours of sleep."

"I'm sure she'll understand." He rubs your back and you lean your head on his shoulder. You're absolutely at your limit, body ready to collapse on the next available soft surface. "I'll be in the car. Don't take too long."

"I won't."

_____________________

When you wake up you have no idea what time it is. Shawn's room is bright and you look around for some hint that he is there. He had insisted you take his bed and he'd sleep on the couch. His bed smells so good, like fresh laundry and his cologne. Warm and spicy, it is absolutely perfect. You reach for your phone on the nightstand and see it's just after noon. There are three missed texts.

Harlow: are you coming by to do the shoot today?

Shawn: I'll be at the gym, take it easy and help yourself to the fridge.

Harlow: nvm please rest I talked to Shawn

You close your eyes and flop back onto the pillows. You promised Harlow you'd be by to take some photos, at least some of the ones for the gym website. You turn over and curl up with Shawn's spare pillow, pressing your face into while opening Shawn's text to reply.

You: is Harlow mad I didn't make it?

Shawn: no. I explained the situation and she's more worried about you than anything

You: tell her I can still make it in to set up at least

Shawn: okay. If u are coming by bring me an extra shirt? I forgot to bring one for post workout.

You: okay no prob.

You glance over at his dresser and then back to the window opposite you that over looks the tree line behind his house. It looks like a nice day, it'd be a shame to waste it but you aren't feeling like going out. You just want to stay curled up in his bed forever. Yesterday was so draining with everything that happened and you don't know how much you can handle without snapping at someone. Rest had definitely helped but you still feel uneasy about the break in. It just seemed so targeted like Officer Jones said, but you can't imagine what someone would want from you.

Eventually you get up and make your way down stairs to the kitchen. Shawn's place is beautiful, it truly is. It's very much like a modern cabin and you're not surprised since it's just outside of town in the woods. He's got a few neighbors but it's not like a usual neighborhood setting.

You grab a protein bar from what you assume was once a fruit basket. It looks good enough and you grab your purse from the living room, stuffing one of Shawn's tees into it before you head out. You pause, looking down at the white shirt hanging out of your purse. You go back into the bedroom and take a blue shirt from Shawn's dresser before stripping off your top and pulling the white tee on over your head. It's a little big but it fits well enough and you smile to yourself in his mirror. You grab your purse and head for the front door.

The drive into town is quiet, a little long, but it's nice. It's one long road that winds around the woods in a circle and then turns out on to Main St that you take all the way into town. It's basically a cul-de-sac but in the woods. The whole time you wonder if you should stop by the house and check on it, or if you should call Officer Jones and see if they have anything to go off of. You're really banking on one of your neighbor's having a security camera or something that spotted the intruder. Though your street is so dark at night it's hard to see anything anywhere.

You turn into the lot behind Harlow's and park beside Jodi's Jeep. You unload your backdrops and stands, carrying everything in the back door. You're met with Connor whos grabbing some tape for a mat from the storage room and he offers to help.

"Look who I found," Connor announces as you walk out onto the gym floor with all your stuff in hand.

Shawn walks over from boxing with a stand up bag. "Hey darling," he takes your camera bag and stand case. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes." You smile softly. "Your bed is very comfortable."

"I'm glad." He rests his hand on your lower back. "Is this my shirt?"

"Maybe."

He grins and kisses your cheek. "It's all yours now. Looks good on you anyway. Any word from Officer Jones?"

"Not yet. I'm sure he'll call tonight or tomorrow."

"You can stay at my place as long as you need to."

You stand up on your toes a bit and kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"Alright love birds break it up." Jodi says loudly, clapping at the two of you. "Before you start getting set up I wanna talk to you about what happened, I need to know who I'm going to skin alive."

"We don't know anything yet Jodi." Shawn says with an eye roll. "I told you that."

Jodi snorts. "I'm still going to kick someone's ass."

"I promise I'll let you know who to hunt when we hear back from the police." You say softly and Shawn gives you another kiss on the head before heading back over to the cage with Connor. Jodi puts her arm around you and the two of you head to the backroom that isn't full of old equipment to set up your camera.

_____________________

Photos go well, you manage to get all the guys done in a few hours. You'll go home later and look them over to decide if you need to reshoot anything. But for now you are finished and starting to pack up.

"Hey, you forgot one."

You turn and look at Shawn standing in the doorway to the backroom where you're set up. "I did?"  

"Yeah. Me." He grins and steps in, closing the door behind him. "I thought you couldn't wait to get photos of me."

"Well, I figured I could get them any time."

"Oh? You think I'll pose for you whenever you like?"

You smirk. "You might, but I want to take candids of you."

Shawn wraps his arms around you and you lean back into his chest. "Candids huh?" He noses against your ear, hand going over your stomach. "Like private candids of me in my bed, laid out on the sheets holding my-"

"Shawn!"

He chuckles deeply and you can feel your body get warm, heat pooling between your legs. "Is that not what you want?"

You turn around in his hold and run a hand over his hair. "I want so much more from you then a couple of photos."

"Yeah? Tell me what you want."

"Oh you know...all the good stuff."

"The good stuff?" He walks you back against the backdrop and you bring his head down, foreheads rolling together. "This kind of good stuff?" He asks lowly before he kisses you softly.

"I know why you came in here." You whisper between kisses, hands going up and down his back. "You're jealous."

He lets out a growl as he kisses along your jaw. "You think I'm jealous of my fighters?"

"Your fighters hmm?"

"Mmm. I'm partnered with Harlow." He pulls back to look down at you. "I own the gym with her. I thought you knew?"

"No, I had no idea. She seems so bossy and it's called Harlow's so..."

Shawn plays with the ends of your hair, twisting his finger around bits of it. "She already had the place, I just bought in with championship winnings to keep it open. She runs the business side with Jodi and I run the gym floor as you can tell."

"Wow. So Connor and the other guys in the circuit this season is a huge deal for you."

"Yeah. A win from one of them could mean we expand Harlow's, new equipment, more fighters. With four guys going this year we have a good chance, and with Connor, we have the odds in our favor, I think."

You grin and shake your head. "Our first kiss and here we are talking business. Y'know if you were anyone else I'd have left by now."

"But I'm not anyone else." He leans in and bumps his nose to yours. "I'm special huh?"

"Oh you're special alright."

Shawn gives you one more kiss before he laughs and pulls back. "Let me make it up to you. I told Connor I'd go to dinner with him at Dixie's to talk about his first fight and what to expect. We can go a little early and have some time to ourselves first. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a date."

"Oh it's not necessarily a date, but it could be."

You smile and he just holds your hips looking down at you. "Come on, enough staring like weirdos. I'm hungry."

____________________

Dixie's is packed when you arrive but you manage to get a table near the bar that's a small two seater. You see Carrie running around like a mad woman and two of the day time waitresses are running around behind her. The place is popular this time of year with fighters and their crews moving into town and nearby during the first part of the western circuit. That's what Carrie told you anyway during her briefing on what to expect and how she deals with the increased number of fights during this time of year.  

"Is that Connor?" Shawn asks, pointing to a table behind you. "What's he doing here so- oh I see."

You turn and look over at where Shawn is pointing to a corner table where Connor is and leaning on the table in her work clothes is Sammy. You smirk, it's about time they talked. Sammy has been eyeing Connor for weeks but she's hesitant because he's a fighter and she knows what the lifestyle entails.

“They’re kids, leave 'em be.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sammy is a good girl. I’m not worried about it.”

“She is. She also knows what it’s like to live with fighters. She told me her brother was a fighter.” You shake your head. “I think she said he went north to try for the canadian championship but he didn't win and ended up settling down up there”

“I knew her brother Devin, we fought a few times.” Shawn smiles over his drink. “The guy was really good, he gave me a run for my money.”

“Oh yeah? Did he train at Harlow’s?”

“No, no it was way before then. When I was nineteen he was twenty one, we went a few rounds in my first championship entry. I didn’t win that year, I got too cocky and big headed. He was a tough dude though, if Sammy is anything like him she’ll keep Connor in his place.”

You chuckle. “Sammy is very shy, I’m not sure she’s like her brother at all.”

“The shy ones are the ones you gotta watch out for.” Shawn smirks and you roll your eyes.

"Anyways, you said I could stay at your place again?"

"Mmhmm." Shawn smiles and chews on his straw. "I definitely don't mind."

"Good. I'm nervous about going home until we find out more from the police. It's feels like such a personal attack since they went through just my bedroom and didn't even take anything." You shake your head and lean you chin on your hand on the table. "They didn't even take jewelry. Someone wanted something from me."

"Maybe they thought it was someone else who lived there?"

"I don't know. I hope there is video footage from one of the neighbors that shows us something."

"They're gonna check with the neighbors for you?"

"Yeah, Officer Jones called while I was photographing Gauge. He said they're gonna canvas the area, ask for surveillance from anyone nearby and see if they can't get a suspect or even a car or something."

Shawn leans back and crosses his arms. "Y'know I was actually thinking, do you think it could be Tate? I didn't want to say something about him to the cops but is there something you have of his?"

You raise your eyebrows. You hadn't thought of Tate being a suspect. Hell, you were two states away from him now and it's been months since the break up. "I don't think I have anything. I gave him everything back, all his clothes and anything he ever bought me. I left it all in a box in our apartment."

"It was just a thought."

"No, it's a good one. He is crazy enough to do something like that." You roll your eyes and flag down Carrie to pay for your drinks. "Maybe I can call him, or I could try his sister Maggie."

"I'd try Maggie if you have a good relationship with her. If it was him he probably won't want to talk to you."

Carrie stops by the table and hands you your bill. "Have you seen Sammy?"

"She's over there with..." You look around for her and Connor but neither are at the table in the corner anymore. "Well she was here. Is she working tonight?"

"Yeah. Her shift starts in five minutes." Carrie takes your cash and you wave her off for change. "You say you seen her?"

Shawn chuckles. "She was with Connor."

"The fighter?"

"Yeah, my champ." Shawn stands and gives you a look and you nod, letting him know you don't mind if he goes looking for the two of them. "I think I know where they are."

Carrie raises her eyebrows. "Well if you find her, tell her to get her ass to work."

"Yes ma'am." Shawn smiles. "See you at the house." He squeezes your shoulder and heads for the front door.

A minute later Sammy comes walking in very flushed and you can't help but smile to yourself. She's got a flower tucked into her hair and you think her and Connor must have been sitting out on the patio since the flower is definitely from the pots out there.  

____________________

You get to Shawn's place a little after eight. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's there. The sun is starting to go down and you are tired from working on photos and stress from the break in. Your brain is absolutely taxed. All you want is some dinner and a soft bed. You turn the handle to the door and walk into music blasting from the kitchen. It's some eighties hair band and you chuckle to yourself as you walk across the living room to find Shawn around the corner shadow boxing at the stove shirtless.

"What's for dinner?" You laughs and he looks back around with a grin. "Smells good!"

Shawn turns and shuts off the music on his phone. "It's chili. I figured it's pretty easy to throw together since I got home just a few minutes ago."

"Why not order something?"

"Eh, I like homemade." He stirs the pot around. "I haven't had it in a while, I thought it'd be nice."

You walk around the island and take a look into the pot. It's not chili. Well, it is, but it's not what you were expecting. "What kind of chili is this?"

"Chili Verde. My dad's recipe. Wanna taste?" He spoons some out to cool in a little bowl on the counter.  "I promise it's good."

You smile. "I'm sure it's very good. What's in it?"

"Pork, onions, green chilies. I cheated and used a bottle of premade chili verde salsa for a starter since I don't have time to stew tomatillos and green chilies for hours." He spoons some up for you and you take a bite. "Good yeah?"

"Hot." You cover your mouth. "It's kinda spicy but I like it. It's good."

Shawn beams and scoops out two bowls to cool. "I'll finish getting dinner ready, go change and relax."

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for making me dinner."

"Of course." He kisses your nose and your heart skips. "Go on."

Post dinner you're sitting on the couch with Shawn watching some ghost hunter show. He's got his arm around your shoulders and you're tucked into his side snugly. It's comfortable, being with Shawn feels incredibly natural. He's warm and safe.

"What're you doing next Sunday?" Shawn asks as he tucks his feet against yours where your legs are outstretched on the ottoman. "I was thinking if you're available we could go out."

"I work the late shift but I can see if one of the guys can cover for me."

"I don't want you to miss work. We can go another day."

"No, I want to go. It'll be a nice escape from the stress around here." You run your hand down his forearm and slide your hand into his. "Are we going to go horseback riding again?"

Shawn squeezes your hand. "Nope. I have another idea."

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling." He grins at you and you narrow your eyes at him. "I can surprise you again can't I? It's more fun that way."

"I'd like to see what tops horseback riding."

"I have a few ideas. Don't worry." He glances at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. "I should go to bed, I have a seven o'clock session with Jack tomorrow." He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. "Do you mind if I take the bed?"

"Nope. I don't mind sharing."

"Sharing? You're ready for that?"

You push off of him and stand up, putting your hand out to him. "I'm ready for anything with you."

He takes your hand and stands, pulling you against him. "Anything huh?" He runs a hand over your hair. "Falling a little fast aren't we?"

"I don't mind." You wrap your arms around his middle. "We work well together. I've never felt this comfortable and free around someone before."

He hums. "It feels natural. I completely understand."

You scratch at his back gently and he smiles down at you. "Let's go to bed. You need to be up early."

"Mmm I could always reschedule if we wanted to stay up late." He runs his hand down your back and over your butt. "I'm sure Jack won't mind."

You shake your head and laugh. "No, you're not cancelling work because of me. We can sleep together any time."

"Well don't make it sound like we're an old married couple, jeez."

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly. "Maybe it's good practice for the future."

"Wh- oh." He grins. "First kiss and you're planning our future all in one day? Damn."

"Oh shut up." You pull away and head to his bedroom. "Come on, chop chop. The bed awaits."

_____________________

You wake up in the middle of the night and you're freezing. It doesn't even feel like there is a heater on in the house. You roll towards Shawn and slide your arm around his middle, spooning him from behind. He shifts. A soft grunt followed by a mumble of incoherent sleep laden words. He's like a furnace, body radiating into yours.

"You okay?"

"Mmhmm." You press a kiss to his hair. "All good now."

"I missed this." He places his hand over yours on his chest. His heart beats in time with yours, a cadence of comfort in the night. "I missed being held."

"It's been a while?" 

"A long while. I didn't like to date when I fought. I only wanted to focus on my work." He chuffs. "I'd deprive myself to be the best. Stupid huh?" 

"No. You thought it'd help. It must have, you did win." You flex your fingers against his skin, blunt nails scratching him lightly. "Do you like being the little spoon?" 

"Love it. There's something about having someone smaller than you curled up and wrapped around you that I just love. I do like being the big spoon too, but I really enjoy being held sometimes." 

"I'll hold you any time." You give him a squeeze and he tangles his legs with yours. "You're like a big teddy bear."

He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep to the sound of his soft breathing and the beating of his heart under your fingertips. 

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

End Part 1

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

Thank you for reading! Part 2 will be out sometime in the future as I have to write the ending still, but it’ll be another 13k at least. Thank you all again.  - A

[lunaslethifold]

A Summer in Ottery St. Catchpole: Part 2 (George Weasley x Potter!Reader)

Pairing: George Weasley x Female!Potter!Reader

Series Synopsis: Y/N Potter used to have a huge crush on George Weasley. She could hardly even function around him. Now fresh out of a long relationship, she can say with confidence that those feelings she harbored for years are gone. George, on the other hand, had barely even acknowledged her existence. But now that Y/N is more comfortable around him, he starts to see the real her. George starts to see her in a new light. Boy, is that bad news for him.

Warnings: none, I think. (let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count: ~2.8k

Find the other works in this series in my masterlist (pinned and linked in my bio :))

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support on this series! If anyone’s wondering, I have about 7 parts planned for this series. I’m very excited to continue it and thank you so much for your nice messages! I apologize if there are any delays for me releasing parts, it’s because I have a lot of work to do :( Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think! Sorry for any grammar mistakes!

Y/N and Fred were bored. Very bored. So much so, in fact, that Y/N was going through her trunk. For fun. Fred was sat on the bed, watching her. How could they be so bored so early in the morning? There was no reason to be up, yet here they were.

“You know…” Y/N started, surveying the books she just pulled out of her trunk. “I could use a new muggle book to read. I’ve already read all these twice over,” she said, tossing them carelessly back in. “Maybe I’ll ask Hermione if she’s got any.”

Fred sat up and grinned. “Or…” he said, letting the anticipation grow for a second. “We could go find some new ones from the shop in the village.”

Y/N stood up from her spot, a new light in her eye at the opportunity to do something fun. “Fred, that sounds like a wonderful idea.”

-

Somehow the whole gang was roped into joining their trip to town. Fred invited George, for obvious reasons. Then, Y/N thought Hermione might want to visit the bookshop as well. Ginny overheard and was happy to accompany her friends. The five of them ran into Ron, who was holding a pair of gardening gloves that were missing 3 fingers. He had told the group not to ask, and so they didn’t, instead inviting him to find a replacement at one of the local shops, albeit with a little laughter. And wherever Ron went, Harry followed. 

By mid morning the seven of them had begun the short trek to town. Y/N seemed to already be cured of her boredom, as she was laughing loudly with Ginny and Harry. Ron and Hermione led the group, the former of the two still a bit embarrassed by his glove situation, and the latter excited at the prospect of new reading material. Y/N walked a little bit behind them, with Harry and Ginny on either side of her. Fred and George were at the back, talking about who knows what.

Suddenly, Y/N stopped in her tracks, pointing at the large tree that was a few yards away from them. She glanced at the two people beside her, and then took off running towards it. Harry and Ginny yelled something at her, before running after her. The three of them began to race up the tree, stopping only to yell at each other. Ron and Hermione hadn’t stopped walking towards their destination. Fred let out a light chuckle at their antics before also continuing on. But George didn’t. Fred looked to his side, about to say something to his twin, only to find he wasn’t standing there. He turned around and saw George watching the tree intently. Fred walked back to him.

“Oi, mate, you alright?” Fred said to George.

George didn’t look at him. His eyes were still trained in the direction of Y/N. “Does Y/N seem… different to you?” George said, breaking the silence.

“Different?” Fred replied, a little puzzled. “No.” George finally turned to look at him as Harry, Ginny, and Y/N began to climb down from the branches of the tree. He saw that Fred looked like he was contemplating saying something.

“What is it?” George asked, now curious to know what his brother wasn’t telling him. 

Fred looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. Ron and Hermione were already far ahead past the hill, while the other three were starting to climb up it. He lowered his voice. “Alright, I’m only telling you this because it’s in the past now, and I never keep anything from you. But you can’t tell anyone, alright?” Fred said with a serious look on his face. George nodded sincerely. “Well…” George leaned in. “Y/N used to fancy you, so she didn’t feel comfortable around you. But now she’s over it, so I reckon she’s acting more normal,” he said, shrugging. 

George gaped at Fred. Did she really have a crush on him? If he would have known… 

If he would have known, what? George shook his head. Snap out of it, he thought. You just think she’s pretty, that’s all. And she’s nice. And funny...

George remembered Fred was looking at him. “Y/N Potter? Had a crush? On me?”

“No, I’m talking to the tree,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Yes, you. Well, now that you’re seeing the real her, maybe you can be friends.” Fred began to walk up the hill, clearly ready to join the others.

“Yeah… friends.”

- 

A relaxing tune played as the nice smell of fresh paper filled the air. Y/N, Harry, Fred, and George were scouting out the horror section of the bookshop. Ginny had followed Hermione to the romance shelves and Ron was poking around the knick knacks at the front of the shop. 

George was still reeling from the piece of information that Fred had given him earlier in the day. He was trying to act casual, but he felt as if he was hyper aware of everything Y/N said or did. The heart in his chest seemed to race whenever she looked at or talked to him. 

Y/N had a deep, contemplative expression on her face. It was almost comical. Her hand reached out and she nicked one of the books off the shelf. “Look Harry, this book is about me,” she said, trying to contain her laughter. She shoved the cover in front of them. It was titled The Babysitter.

“Wha-” Harry sputtered for a moment. “You’re only one year older than me-” 

Y/N broke into quiet laughter at Harry’s reaction. Fred, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care about how much noise he was making and began to laugh loudly. George chuckled too, and one could even see Harry trying to cover up a smile. Several heads turned their way. George couldn’t help but grin at Y/N’s joyful expression. 

“That was incredibly lame, Y/N,” Fred said through his laughter.

She giggled and said, “Maybe, yes, but at least I’ll never be as lame as you.” For some reason, George found this incredibly funny and laughed even more.

As they quieted down, people stopped looking at them. Except for one boy standing nearby. He was a muggle, probably, and George wouldn’t have noticed him if it weren’t for Y/N. The boy’s eyes seemed to be trained specifically on her. His grin faltered slightly. And the worst part? Y/N noticed he was looking at her. She looked up at him and met his eyes. Her lips turned up in a half smile at him. The boy smiled back at her. George panicked for a second before quickly picking up a random book off the shelf.

“Hey, Y/N look at this one,” he said, stepping in front of her, effectively blocking Y/N from the view of the muggle. What are you doing?!, he thought, suddenly a little embarrassed. She smiled at him and leaned over to see what he was holding. All ill feelings he had seemed to wash away as he looked at her. George was holding the book upside down, sure, but it seemed to distract Y/N enough as she gently took the book out of his hands and began to read the back. 

“You know what, this actually does look interesting. I think I’ll take it,” she said, grinning at him. “Thanks, George.” He swelled with pride as she added it to the other two books in the basket that was hanging on her arm. “Cmon, let's go see if Hermione’s done.” He smiled at his sheer dumb luck and followed after her.

-

Y/N was having a pretty good day. She was spending time with her friends, eating candy from the local sweets shop, and had three new books in her bag. She felt like this was a day to remember, a stark contrast to how she had felt in the morning. Everyone was lounging around in the square of the town, looking at the windows of shops or the vendors on the street.

Y/N had her arms linked with Hermione's and Ginny's as they merrily walked to a nearby flower cart. She stopped to examine and smell her favorite flower. 

"Why don't you take it?" the woman who was selling them said.

"Oh, I couldn't-" Y/N started, surprised at the offer.

"Please, what's one flower? Plus, it would look lovely tucked behind your ear," she said, smiling warmly.

"Thank you very much," Y/N said, smiling back. She followed her advice and carefully placed it on her ear. 

She almost skipped away, feeling like her day was just made 10 times better. She joined Hermione and Ginny on a bench nearby, basking in the sun that shone on her face. It was a bit cloudy that day, but the spot they were at had the perfect amount of sunshine on it. 

The three girls chatted there for a few minutes, before a loud roar of thunder could be heard from above. Within a matter of seconds a downpour of rain began, and everyone was scrambling for cover. They took cover at a cafe nearby, where they found the rest of the gang. Harry, Ron, and Fred were sat in a booth and Hermione and Ginny squeezed in next to them. George was standing nearby, eying the summer rain through the window.

"I reckon I'll get us some drinks, yeah?" Y/N said, surveying her friends. She made her way to the counter where a longer than usual line was beginning to form, likely due to the amount of people trying to escape the rain. She stood near the counter, reading the menu written in chalk on the blackboards. She decided what to order and joined the end of the line. Someone took their place after her and tapped her shoulder. Y/N whipped around, a little startled. Her eyes met a boy whose face she oddly recognized, but couldn’t place her finger on it.

“Hey there,” he said, smiling at her.

Y/N smiled back politely. “Umm, hello!”

“I recognized you from the bookshop. Do you read horror often?” the boy said. That’s where she recognized him from! Earlier at the bookshop, when she was browsing the horror section with her friends, they had exchanged smiles. 

“Oh, I remember now. Yeah, I’d say I enjoy it from time to time,” Y/N replied.  

“You like horror books and you’re in my favorite coffee shop? A girl after my own heart,” he said. Y/N let out a small laugh. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N Potter.”

He stuck out his hand. “Michael Smith.” She took his hand and shook it. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

-

When the rain had started, George was with Fred, Ron, and Harry. Fred and Ron were arguing about something in Ron’s shopping bag, and Harry was laughing at them. George was leaning on the alley wall, only partly listening to what they were saying. Normally he would’ve found it hilarious, but something else was in the back of his mind. It was like a looming cloud; everytime George stepped into the sunlight, it made its way back to him, invading his thoughts. 

Sensing that the conversation would not be ending anytime soon, George slowly let his mind wander. He thought about earlier in the day, when Fred had revealed Y/N’s secret to him. How long had she fancied him for? When did she “get over,” as Fred had said, her crush on him? Probably after Kenneth, George thought. That was when the change began. He thought back to that day, when she had bounded up to him and Fred in the corridor. Y/N had looked so excited at the idea of going with him. Okay, maybe there was something behind how she looked at him. How could he have been so blind to her feelings? I mean, she spent almost every bloody summer with us, he thought. Fred called his name and brought him back to reality. Snap out of it, George thought to himself. Why are you even worried about this anyways? It’s not like there’s any reason to dwell on it.

Just then the sound of thunder filled the air and a summer shower started. The four of them pulled out of the alleyway and into the nearest shop. Soon, Hermione, Ginny, and Y/N came in. Everyone except George and Y/N were sat in a booth. He stood nearby, looking out the window. 

George always liked the rain. For some, it ruined their day. But not for him. It was loud and spontaneous. It came out of nowhere and was basically unpredictable. A recipe for disaster. But not for George. It was calming, in a sense. He liked to look out the window and watch the droplets hit the pavement or soak into the dirt outside. 

So, yeah, he was a fan of the rain. But as he noticed Y/N waiting in line, he wished he had paid less attention to the weather outside and more attention to what was happening inside. He registered that Y/N was going to get them drinks. He had never really noticed it before, but now that he thought about it, it seemed that Y/N always knew what everyone’s order would be. George wondered if she made an effort to remember, or if it was just accidental. Either way, the thought brought a wide smile to his face. It warmed his heart that she so subtly showed she cared in small ways. But, when he looked up from the window he saw something that left an unsavory taste in his mouth. 

Y/N was standing in line, talking to a muggle. And not just any muggle, mind you, but the same muggle that was trying to look at her in the bookshop. George clenched his jaw as a scowl made its way to his face. There was just something about the way he was looking at her. Or maybe, the way that he had shook her hand. It made his blood absolutely boil. He saw Y/N laugh at something he said and George forced himself to tear his gaze away from them and to his shoes. His arms seemed to cross in annoyance on their own.

“Oi! What’s got your boxers in a bunch, George?” a voice brought him out of his fit. It was Fred, who had a lopsided grin on his face, with a hint of concern behind it that only certain people could recognize.

George plastered a half smile onto his face and said, “Nothing.” Fred sent him a questioning look, but hummed in acknowledgement. George tried to shake off the lingering, icky feeling that he felt. What was that feeling, anyways? He stood still for a moment, mulling it over, before he realized. Oh no, was George jealous? No, there was no way. He couldn’t be… could he? It’s just that she’s been around for so long, it’s natural that he’d be protective. Unless…

No, no, no. C’mon, it was out of the realm of possibilities. But the truth was that what he felt was undeniable. It was jealousy. 

But why? Why was he jealous of seeing Y/N talk with that boy who was so obviously interested in her? There was only one possibility that came to mind. Do I… fancy Y/N?, he thought to himself, biting his lip in thought. He shook his head lightly. It couldn’t be. But then why was he acting this way? He was having an internal battle in his brain.

 Bloody hell, he thought, I guess I do fancy Y/N. It was a wild thought, really. This girl who he had known since he was twelve quickly and suddenly captured his attention. 

George took a second to bask in the feeling of his revelation. A giddy smile made its way to his face. It was freeing almost, admitting to himself that he had a crush. He sighed and shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. At that moment, Y/N began to make her way over to them, balancing two drink holders in her arms. She set them down on the booth table, and began to pass them out to everyone. Choruses of “thanks” could be heard. 

Finally, she pulled the last cup out and walked over to George. She handed it to him, with a dazzling smile on her face. Well, dazzling to George at least. It was probably just a friendly one to her.

“Here you go, just the way you like it,” she said, before pulling up a chair to the booth. George’s cheeks heated up as he gazed at her. She was so beautiful, even here after a day of walking around in town. 

Maybe, just maybe, he could buck up the courage to ask her out.

Thank you for reading and I hope you liked it! 

[mountainsluna]

good intentions

request: Seonghwa scenario in which the reader falls into bad habits after breaking up, if u want to you can make it fluff at the end

pairing: seonghwa x reader

genre: angst + fluff ending

word count: 1.9k

✩ [author’s note] this...this hurt :’( i love seonghwa so much my soft hearted baby :’(

✩ masterlist

✩ requests : check bio or masterlist ♡

Seonghwa always had the best intentions when it came to you. He wanted you happy whether that was with or without him. When you came into his life, he knew you were absolutely everything he had ever wanted. But good things could only last so long.

After he started his new job he ended up being a lot busier than he thought he’d be, traveling to different cities and countries nearly every week. It led to him only ever seeing you once a month or so. He couldn’t stand it, he hated feeling like he was neglecting you, no matter how much you reassured him that things would be okay he didn’t listen.

“Y/n I’m sorry, I just can’t put you through this anymore...You don’t deserve it. You deserve someone who can be there for you whenever you need them and I can’t be that.” His eyes were already glossing over as he spoke to you.

“Hwa, I’ve been okay these past nine months... No it’s not ideal but it’s worth it to be with you. I love you so much and I know you love me too, it doesn’t make sense for us to break up like this.” You pleaded to him at your apartment door. He hadn’t even wanted to come inside, worried he’d cave and not say what he went there to say.

“I do love you, so much. That’s why I have to do this. It’d be selfish of me to keep you... I’m so sorry.” His hands that were wrapped around yours, now letting them down slowly.

“Seonghwa...please...” You breathed shakily, tears already streaming down your face. Seonghwa couldn’t bare to look at you as he turned away. Leaving you a sobbing, heartbroken mess at your own doorstep.

You hated to admit you cried for nearly two days straight after your breakup. The shock and denial of it all was taking a toll on you in the worst ways. As the weekend approached your friends decided you needed to get out, dragging you to a local club to loosen you up a bit. You hadn’t been much of drinker, letting yourself get tipsy only on occasion but maybe this was what you needed.

The first sip of alcohol had your body warming up nicely, filling you with the relief you had been dying for as it coursed through your veins. After about three more drinks, the memory of your ex boyfriend was nearly forgotten.

The next morning you were definitely regretting your drink choices from the night before. But by that evening you were ready to go again, craving the break the alcohol brought from your thoughts.

When Monday arrived, your classes had been extra rough on you. On your walk home you decided to stop at the convenient store for food. Your eyes skimming over the wine section. You grabbed a couple of bottles, thinking they’d hold you for the next month or so.

But the bottles only lasted about four days. Not including Wednesday because Yeosang and Wooyoung had invited you to happy hour at their favorite bar and you had agreed a bit too eagerly.

Now it was the weekend and you were ready to go out again.

Seonghwa noticed your frequent outings that first weekend. He was friends with your friends on social media and although you had blocked him, he saw everything through Wooyoung and Yeosang’s profiles.

He hated to admit that after the second night of seeing videos of you downing several hard liquors and shots he was worried. But he knew he was in no position to scold you. He had left you, but he honestly hadn’t expected it to be this hard on you.

That Tuesday he saw Wooyoung’s story, a picture of two wine glasses with you tagged in the second one, letting him know you were drinking again. Then Wednesday when he saw you taking shots of whiskey with the two boys at a local bar. He decided he needed to call you. Whether you listened to him or not, it was getting out of hand. But you didn’t answer.

He even attempted to reach out to your friends but Wooyoung ignored him as well. All he got from Yeosang was a ‘you’re talking to the wrong person. text her, not me.’ When he informed the blonde haired boy that you weren’t responding, Yeosang told him he should ‘take the hint then’ and left it at that.

He was out of town all that week but he wanted so bad to go to your house and beg you to stop, to just stop, He wanted to hold you in his arms again and tell you that you were too precious and important to be doing the things you were doing to yourself but he couldn’t.

Seonghwa was on edge during all of his meetings that Friday, fully expecting to see you getting drunk with your friends again and sure enough, by 10pm on Wooyoung’s story. There you were, dressed in the tightest gray dress he had ever seen you in, downing drinks like a pro as the boys hyped you up. He threw his phone to the other side of the hotel bed. His head falling into his palms as he sighed in frustration.

This whole time he thought he had chosen what was best for you both but maybe he hadn’t. It’s not like had ever stopped loving you. He loved you to death and he missed you more than he could bear. Part of him only watched your friend’s stories so he could catch glimpses of your face. Missing the way you’d smile up at him and how he would pull you into a kiss, loving the way you'd giggle against his lips the longer he’d kiss you.

It wasn’t until Sunday night that he decided enough was enough. He saw a story pop up from a mutual friend of yours, Mingi, who hadn’t come around in awhile. It was a video of a blunt being passed around. The video didn’t show your faces but he recognized your body instantly as you were sitting between Yeosang and Wooyoung in a circle. A shot glass in one hand, as Yeosang handed you the blunt that you took with the other.

He was riding back to his apartment from the airport when he saw it and he knew he had to see you. As soon as he set his bags down, he called another cab to take him straight to your apartment.

It was nearly 1am but he was more determined than he had ever been to be with you. When he knocked on the door there was no answer. He sat on the ground, leaning back against your door as he recalled the events that occurred the last time he was here. He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. He thought keeping you was selfish but now he knew trying to push you away was only hurting you both.

He constantly refreshed his feed, until a new story popped up, and he could see you in the backseat of Yeosang’s car, high and drunk off your ass and he nearly started sobbing. He could only pray that Yeosang was bringing you here and not to his or Wooyoung’s apartment.

About twenty minutes had passed when he heard voices coming up the stairs to your floor. He stood up quickly already recognizing Wooyoung’s loud voice. A few seconds later he saw you. Your arms slung over the two boy’s shoulders as they helped you stumble to your apartment.

Yeosang scoffed as he made eye contact with Seonghwa, not paying him any more attention than that. He left you to dangle from Wooyoung’s shoulder as he took your key from your purse to unlock your door.

Wooyoung was the only one to acknowledge Seonghwa. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Seonghwa didn’t really know how to answer the boy. “I-I came to make sure she was okay.”

“What you’re finally feeling guilty or what?” He slurred back at the taller boy. Yeosang told Wooyoung he’d wait for him in the car, not wanting to be in Seonghwa’s presence any longer. He helped you onto your couch, your head hanging low not even realizing Seonghwa was even there.

“Wooyoung...I can take care of her for the night...If you don’t mind..”

The smaller boy looked at him hesitantly not wanting to leave you alone with him at all.

“I...really want to be with her...I miss her so much... I can’t believe I let this happen.”

Wooyoung watched as he caressed your drunken face. Your eyes closed, indefinitely passed out. Even in his own drunken state, he could see the regret Seonghwa had in his eyes, silently pleading to him as they made eye contact.

After a few moments of silence while Wooyoung mulled it over in his head, he agreed. But not after a few select threats from him as he made his way out of the door.

Seonghwa helped you out of your heels and into your bedroom, talking to you in the softest voice. Wanting to make up for all the bad feelings he had caused you. While he was helping you into your sleeping clothes he heard you mumble softly.

“S...Seonghwa?” Your head lulling back as the room began to spin whenever you opened your eyes.

“Shhh, yes my love it’s me. I’m here. Let me lay you down, angel.” You grumbled in response but let him guide you to your pillows, he himself making his way beside you under the covers. Resting your head against him as he stroked your hair, leaving soft kisses on your head, mumbling apologies into your hair.

You woke up the next morning in Seonghwa’s embrace, the feeling of his arms around you startling you as you sat up quickly. Your movements waking Seonghwa as well. “Baby what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Y..you...you’re here?” You stuttered out softly. Wondering if you were still dreaming, you reached up to hold his face. His hand coming up to wrap around your arm.

“Yes my love... I’m here.” He pulled you into his chest, and you accepted, your arm coming to wrap around his abdomen. “I’m here now baby everything’s gonna be okay I promise.” He kissed your head and you nearly teared up at his words, hugging him even tighter. “But...how are you feeling?”

The shock of his presence subsiding as you felt the pang of a hangover in your skull. “I...I have a slight headache but I’ll be okay.”

“My love....I’ll get you some medicine and some water, okay?” He moved to get up but you pulled him against you, not wanting him to leave your side just yet.

“Please...please don’t ever leave me again.” You said against his chest, your eyes closed tightly. You wanted to stay in his arms forever.

He hugged you back with all the strength he could muster without hurting you. “I won’t, angel, I promise. You’re the love of my life, I’m sorry I was so stupid.” He held your head to his chest, breathing out a small sigh of relief knowing you wanted him to stay as much as he wanted to. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hwa.” You picked up your head, kissing him with all the energy you had, making up for every day you two had missed together.

[meadowmood]

Vinphala’s Storm

This is the third short story upload I will be doing for all of the work I did for my senior show centering around my own stories and characters. If you would like to view the entire exhibition now, click this link! It includes a number of short stories, illustrations, and character bios for your viewing pleasure!

Full Story below the cut!

Abalone strolled through the city, the bright sun overhead warming his wool. As usual he had a small gaggle of admirer’s trailing conspicuously behind him as well as a good amount of ogling bystanders. He didn’t mind, he knew nature spirits were a rare sight on this side of the world. Not to mention he enjoyed the attention...

He was heading toward the city center, as he did with every city he traveled to. This time, however, was special, as it was his first time returning to the Sun Pole since his youth. He had hatched near this city with his other half, Vinphala. Vinphala… The thought of his sibling made him stop. He had been thinking of her more the closer he had gotten to his old home. A small part of him wished he would see her, but the rest of him shuddered at the thought. The last time he had seen Vinphala she had almost blasted him off the face of Thera. He wasn’t sure he could escape with his life a second time. A sudden tug on his skirt brought him back to reality. He turned and was greeted with the concerned expression of an incredibly small old woman standing behind him. “Excuse me, young man, but I would make your way to a shelter. A storm’s coming.” Abalone looked up and saw the crowds had all vanished while he had been deep in thought. “Thank you, kind elder, but I will be okay.” The woman nodded in understanding and made her way hastily into a nearby building. A single drop of rain fell onto Abalone’s nose and he stared up at the sky. The storm was approaching faster than he thought. The sky blackened within seconds, the warm glow of the sun quickly extinguished by the smothering darkness of the oncoming storm. Rain began to fall more heavily as Abalone quickly hastened his pace to find a dry place to rest. He looked around for a place that wouldn’t mind a drenched stranger barging in looking for shelter. He soon reached the town square and spied a small bakery that would suffice. As he opened the door, crouching slightly to fit himself under the doorframe, he got a good look at the inside. Low tables and pillow seats were spread neatly across the floor, the ceiling glittering with enchanted lanterns that gave off an inviting glow. To his right was a huge display, filled to the brim with a variety of sweet and savory baked goods. 

Before he could admire anything else he realized that he was not the only one who had come into the warm bakery seeking comfort from the rain. A sea of people had turned to look at him upon his entrance, wide eyed and waiting for him to do something. His chance to address them was interrupted by a plump young woman bursting through the kitchen door behind the counter, carrying several trays full of assorted drinks and snacks. She skillfully maneuvered around the many tables and patrons delivering each one their desired treat. Bringing their attention away from Abalone one by one as she did so. As the woman placed the last item on the table she finally looked up and saw Abalone standing in the doorway. “My, you’re a big one aye? Bet you can fit a good bit in that stomach of yours!” She chuckled heartily before making her way behind the counter again. She placed the trays down and looked back up at him “Can I get anything for you? Something warm to perk ya up?” She peered down at the puddle of water that was accruing on the floor, “A towel, perhaps?” Abalone looked down and saw the puddle “Oh right, sorry!” He quickly opened the door and with a swift hand motion drew the water into the air and plopped it outside. A soft excited murmur was heard from the patrons as they admired the small flourish of magic he had just performed. He turned back to the woman sheepishly, trying not to draw attention to himself. “I apologize for my intrusion, good shop owner. I would like to take shelter from the rain here.” The woman laughed warmly. “No need to be so formal about it! Just sit yerself down and buy yerself something nice, eh?” Abalone smiled and nodded, and with a few coins acquired himself a cream bun, a few hot pepper rosettes, and a cup of tea. He sat down at a nearby table and gratefully began to eat his meal. He was only a few bites into the cream bun when a voice piped up from the table next to him. “Excuse me! Are you a nature spirit?” Abalone turned to see a small boy looking up at him with wonder in his eyes. He smiled and placed his food back down on the table. “I just might be, who is asking?” “Me! I mean my name is Heffra!” the child squeaked, his confidence seeming to drain after his first greeting. “Heffra you’re not bothering the poor creature are you?” a tall woman sitting beside him said. “Quite the opposite!” Abalone said smiling, “and to answer your question, dear Heffra, yes I am. I actually hatched somewhere near here a very long time ago.” “Wooow!” exclaimed the boy, his eyes sparkling. “Then you must be really powerful then! I bet you could a bunch of stuff with your magic huh? like...like...” the boy seemed to grow more excited thinking of all of the things he imagined Abalone could do, “like lift a boulder or, or fly across a whole forest or even…” he paused and stared out the large glass window of the bakery. “Or maybe even stop the storm!” Abalone heart sunk slightly at the boy’s excitement. He could do none of those things. He had already shown the extent of his magical ability at the door of the shop. No, when it came to magic, Vinphala was the powerful one. “I am deeply sorry young Heffra, but I am no powerful spirit,” he stared out the window, “and as for stopping storms, only my other half Vinphala could do that.” “Hrmph, then I wish they were here,” grumbled the boy’s mother. “We’ve been under siege by the rain for almost a month now. Each time it gets worse and worse. If it doesn’t stop soon the whole town is going to be waterlogged! Could use someone to give us a break.” “That sounds awful,” Abalone said, his smile disappearing. “Does the city have no protective enchantments to help ease the issue?” “We do,” the woman said with a sigh, “except they must not be very good because the storms keep on coming anyway. It has the local academy in a frenzy trying to figure out why.” Before Abalone could reply a resounding crack of thunder rang out. It’s rumbling cacophony shaking the building and causing the lanterns to flicker momentarily. The boy yelped and clung to his mother. “It’s alright,” she soothed, running her fingers through his hair. “It’s only a noise. We are safe inside.” The boy seemed calmed by this and was just lifting his head from his mother’s shirt when a brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the entire room, followed by another deafening round of thunder falling from the sky. Abalone was shaken to his core by the sound of it. The relentless downpour, the crashing of lightning, and the raucous anger of the thunder... it all seemed so familiar to him. Vinphala. Vinphala was causing the storm, he knew it. He could feel the relentless fury in every raindrop. If his sibling wasn’t the cause of this something else just as powerful was, and he needed to stop it. He stood up and headed to the front of the shop, halfway out the door before he heard a call of protest. “Wait! You’ll get hurt!” He turned to see Heffra standing by the table,looking teary eyed and anxious. His mother looked irritated at his sudden outburst, and motioned for him to sit down. “I may not be powerful, but I have a strong heart.” Abalone said as calmly as he could. “Not even a storm can take that from me.” Abalone pushed down his swelling fear to smile at the boy. “I will be okay, and so will you,” he soothed. Heffra nodded and sat down like he understood. With that Abalone disappeared out the door and was immediately pounded by the sheer force of the rain coming down. He looked up and was able to make out a swirling black cloud in the distance. It appeared to be the center of the storm, and most certainly where he would find Vinphala. Abalone took a deep breath, attempting to calm his building fear, and ran straight for the mass of seething black clouds. The path toward his sibling led him to an expansive beach, and without a second thought, he rushed straight into the shallow water. “Vinphala!” he shouted, his weak voice barely audible above the thunder. “Vinphala, I know it’s you! Please talk to me!” Abalone struggled to remain upright in the turbulent water, turning around wildly for any sign of his other half. “P-please!” Abalone yelled before he felt himself slip off the sandbar beneath him, the dark water swallowing him up in its angry depths. In a panic he clawed at the foaming waves, trying to manipulate them to free him from the churning deep, but it was to no avail. Suddenly, something gripped the wool on the back of his neck, pulling him out of the water’s deadly current with amazing strength. Abalone gasped for breath, and before he could tell what was happening he was dragged toward the shore, barely keeping his head above water as he was pulled forward. With surprising force he was thrown against the flat rocks of the shoreline. Abalone gripped the wet rocks with all of his strength as he coughed up the ocean water that had made its way into his throat. “I can’t believe you,” a sharp, seething voice rang out amongst the storm. Abalone’s vision slowly cleared as he blinked away raindrops, regaining some composure as he turned his head toward the familiar voice. He froze as recognition of his rescuer’s identity shot through him like lightning, and immediately wished he had been left to fend for his life in the ocean’s raging waves. “20 years it’s been,” Vinphala hissed, “20 YEARS since you’ve last shown your face, and the first thing you have me do is pull your soft sniveling hide from drowning in shallow water?” She almost screeched as a blinding bolt of lightning exploded down into the waves behind her, causing Abalone to flinch. “V-Vinphala...” Abalone stammered out, caught between pure terror and astonishment, “...you saved me.” Vinphala sneered at him, baring her long sharp fangs “As it seems to be my birthright to do so.” The comment ripped into Abalone’s chest and forced him to turn away from her piercing gaze. “I never asked you to take care of me,” Abalone said shakily. He gathered his strength and lifted his head again, thankful the rain hid his tears. “That choice was yours Vinphala, not mine.” He lifted himself into a kneeling position, looking up to face her. “I know you’re hurting. Why don’t you just say it? Please, Vinphala, tell me what you're feeling. Calm the storm before people get hurt.” Vinphala’s eyes widened as rage crept into the crinkles of her brow. “Oh? Is that all I need to do? Let little Abalone know my every vice and everything will be okay is that it?” The storm surged again, the wind whipped his ears around his face and a deafening crack of thunder drowned out all other noise. “Vinphala, I said you need to stop!” Abalone cried out to her, shielding himself from the power of the pouring rain. “Why should I?” She screamed over the roaring thunder “Why shouldn’t everyone know exactly how I feel?” “The storm is too strong, you’re going to hurt someone!” he shouted. “Please!” “Good!” Vinphala cried, showing no signs of remorse “Maybe then someone can understand me!” “I understand you!” Abalone pleaded, desperation seeping into the crevices of his voice. “Why don’t you talk to me? I can help you!” Vinphala shook her head in rage and cast another bolt of lightning into the sea. “Of COURSE you would say that!” She wailed, her voice cracking slightly. “You always think you can read my mind, that you know what's best for me!” she screamed. Her body seethed with anger as electricity coursed around her. “You think you can fix me, is that it? Make sure I’m not such a problem? Not such a burden on the shoulders of the world? Well guess what Abalone!” she yelled, streaks of lightning crashing into the shallow sea, causing the foaming waves to explode violently around them “YOU. CAN’T. I will ALWAYS be like this, I will NEVER change and YOU can’t say ANYTHING about it!” “Vinphala, wait!” Abalone called out, but it was too late. With a brilliant flash of light, she was gone, leaving only destruction in her wake. The storm dissipated almost as quickly as it came, the last few drops of rain falling morosely into the calming sea. Abalone sat on the rocky shore, soaked to his bones, staring out into the horizon. He saw nothing, only wisps of clouds running with their tails tucked from the rays of light now making their way to the ground as the sky cleared. She was gone. A mixture of rain and drops of tears fell down Abalone’s face and onto the wet rocks below him. He had failed once again to make Vinphala see reason. The realization seeped into him like a chilling wind, the sudden cold forcing him to wrap his arms around himself as he shivered in sorrow. His mind faded into the years of his youth, when he and Vinphala were inseparable. He ached to return to those days. He had been born weak, his fragile body almost fading away with how little magic coursed through his veins. If it weren’t for Vinphala’s fierce protection, he may never have lived past his first weeks of life. He never meant for them to fade away in the years that followed, he had no clue back then that there would come a time when they weren’t always together. He was torn from his thoughts by the sounds of people calling from the beach. The patrons from the bakery had followed him out after the storm ended and were waving him down. He tried to stand but fell back down onto the rocks, his body weak and shaking from the encounter. Heffra’s mother rushed out into the shallow water, her dress ballooning up as she came to help him. “By Liy’s light, what are you doing all the way out here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” she said, with a sternness only a parent could muster. She grabbed his arm and hoisted him up with the help of the bakery owner, and with their combined effort he made it out of the water and onto the beach, where another patron took a thick cloak off their shoulders and wrapped it around him. “T-thank you, all of you,” Abalone stammered out, scanning the crowd, “Are any of you hurt?” “Us? what about you?” the baker replied incredulously. “Just what were ya thinkin’, comin’ out all the way to the beach during a storm like that?” Abalone got to his feet and steadied himself, careful to get up slowly this time. “I saw her,” he said quietly. “My other half...” he looked down, ashamed. “...she was the cause of the storms.” “A spirit then?” the baker said, surprised. “That explains the power of ‘em, I ‘spose.” Before anyone else could say anything a small boy pushed his way to the front of the crowd “Heffra!” the mother gasped. “I told you to stay inside the bakery!” The boy ignored her and ran up to Abalone’s feet, peering up at him with wide eyes. “Did you really see her?” the boy asked excitedly, bouncing up and down. “You saw another spirit?” Abalone looked down at him and sighed trying his best to conceal his sadness, letting a small smile spread across his face at the boy's innocent wonder. “Yes I did, young Heffra, though I am sad to say not for very long. She is gone now, and she has taken the storm with her.” “So you really did do it! You stopped the storm! I knew you were powerful! I knew it!” Heffra shouted, flapping his arms with joy at his revelation. Abalone looked down and chuckled. “I am sorry little one, but it was not anything within my power that ended the storm.” Abalone turned and stared back out into the endless sea, almost no trace of the storm’s anger left in it’s peaceful waters. “For that, I will have to wait for another chance...a day I will make sure comes very, very soon.”

[mikalishi]

— courtney eaton, demi woman — summertime and the living’s… hold on, is that MIKA LEE ?!  I heard the TWENTY TWO  who goes by SHE / THEY was spotted near halona recently. Is it true they’ve been on the island for HER ENTIRE LIFE? i’m pretty sure they work as LIFEGUARD. wonder how island life treats them considering they’re known for being +FRIENDLY but also -IMPULSIVE.  either way, i’m looking forward to spending the summer with them. ☼ ( the camaraderie between you and the drunk girl you just met in the bathroom, salt water clinging to your eyelashes, pulsing music and dilated pupils, laughing at yourself for crying, screaming at the top of your lungs from excitement ) 

ABOUT THE MUN.  born to party forced to blog :/

hey,,,, hey,,,, how y’all doin sdkjsd yes, it is me, besties and sexies. pepperoni mcpony. the latest bitch alive. also the bitch who asked for y’all’s advice and proceeded not to take it. i am so sorry about that by the way but if it helps i am also the bitch who might just change her mind tomorrow,,,, just double libra things 🤪✌️ we hate to see it truly honestly the stars really fucked me over, but anyways skjdskj we’re getting into what we are all here for. what this section was made for. fun facts about me that you don’t need to know, but idk might just bring us closer, and wouldn’t that be sexy? okay, starting strong, i had a mildly irrational but very deep rooted fear of sharkboy from sharkboy and lava girl as a child, and i’m not gonna lie besties, he still terrifies me. why did they put gills on that child. why did they do that. anyways, along that vein i was also afraid of gill from kim possible, and now as a grown woman i’m a little bit scared of the deep from the boys. now that my deepest fears are out of the way, i want y’all to know that nothing brings me more serotonin than pinterest, plotting, and women. i’m a slut for hunter schafer honestly, that woman could do anything to me and she should yk, she deserves it. speaking of being hunter schafer’s bitch, i’m also a little bitch. i cry every time i watch lilo and stitch or the first pokemon movie and earlier this week i cried in a mcdonald’s parking lot while watching someone react to avenger’s endgame on youtube. fuck marvel btw, they owe me money for emotional distress. finally, i’m a sparkling water stan who drinks nothing but sparkling water all day but is somehow still dehydrated. we exist. anyways moving on to things about mikael. 

BIO. hi margaret, i hope this email blows your tits clean off

i’ll make mike a proper bio one day, but today is not that day

she grew up here in hawaii and was raised by her two mother’s. she was a sperm donor baby rather than adopted, and although mika hates to think that her entire existence is due to some old guy doing what he needed to into a jar and some rando with a turkey baster, she’s thankful mostly. 

she’s never met donor dad and she never wants to, please see above. she simply wouldn’t be able to look that man in the eye. 

but her moms were her moms. they were okay. at a young age mika’s mama noticed that she was a bit of a looker and she therefore decided to get mika into some baby modeling and such. mika booked a few little local jobs, and quickly became a semi well known face around town. this only became bigger when mama decided to make mika the face of her small local business. mika’s mother owns an ethical sunscreen brand, which as you can guess is very lucrative in a place like this. mika’s cute little face has therefore been in like storefronts. in local commercials. hell, she even did little ads on the radio. at one point this little loser was even in pageants, and she got second place in ms. hawaii! like baby was a tiny star! 

she really hated it though. 

like mika just wasn’t a fan of the vibe yk. and she didn’t really have much of a say in the career path considering her parents got her into it when she was in diapers, and when she tried to be like !!! i’m tired of this grandpa !!! her mama was big emotionally manipulative, big guilt trip vibes, big ‘after all that we’ve done for you this is how you pay us back!’ vibes. mika was called everything under the sun for not wanting to be her mother’s little dress up doll, and we hate that for her so much. 

mika also hated it honestly, so she started acting out a bit in her early teens. she started going out to parties and local clubs, she started hanging out with older boys and girls, she started taking them drugs and incidentally she made a name for herself in a whole other way. her mama wasn’t happy about that, as you can guess because !!! mika represented her brand !!! what if this got out??

but mika didn’t particularly care if it got out tbh. she just wanted to have fun. she wanted to be a person rather than a manequin. and despite her mom’s best efforts to mediate, mika and her mama had a big blow out fight one night that resulted in mika being told to get in line or get out!! 

she got out. 

so mika has been living semi on her own since she was seventeen. couch surfing, mostly. for a while she lived with her older sibling, who is an wc btw, nudge nudge, wink wink, and then with a friend, and then with a boyfriend, and then with a girlfriend. honestly, sometimes mika would do a little flirting just so she’d have somewhere to stay the night. that’s until she finally saved enough up and found cool enough people to live with. now she rents an apartment with three or four friends, new girl style. this is also a wc, wink wonk. 

she’s now working as a lifeguard at the local resort. she’s pretty good at her job, but she mostly just chills out and re-enacts that WALK PLEASE tiktok all day with her little whistle. she also still to this day regularly gets stopped by people being like omg you’re the ʻōpuʻu lā girl !! and mika simply has to be like haha yes that’s me, and pose for a little picture. she kinda hates the reputation, especially when those little fan encounters inconveniently happen on a walk of shame, but honestly she loves makai and hawaii and she literally cannot imagine living anywhere else so. yuh, she suffers for love. 

HEADCANNONS. shawty got them evil bottom jeans. boots with the curse.

is allergic to bananas but will still eat them. 

a bit of a slut but in a fun and funky way. she’s simply having a good time, and i love that for her. 

the kind of person who lays face down in the pool and pretends to d word just for funsies. 

she’s poor, so whenever she goes to like starbucks or even the hotel she steals from them. like not anything serious but like all those packets of sugar and complimentary tea? hers now. the stirring sticks? in her pockets. the little bottles of shampoo and soap? don’t mind if she does. honestly, she probably even showers there when she’s in a pinch, just sneakily does it by snatching someone’s room key and returning it before they notice. honestly, is mike a bit of a klepto? maybe so. jj maybank pls interact. 

the kind of girl who tells strangers she loves them just to see what they’ll do. like she’s on the phone with the pizza guy and she’s like kay love you ! and when he says love you back she’s like omg,,, are we about to kiss rn ??

her instagram and twitter handle are @mikangelo. before that they used to be @mikal 

she thinks she’s funny. sometimes she is. 

they have a pet snack named corn. we love corn. if you’re facetiming with her sometimes she will let you watch corn eat a whole rat. 

doesn’t care what pronouns you use for them majority of the time, like honestly she would even be pretty comfy with her. she says fuck gender at all times though. 

idk if this was clear at all, but mika’s mother’s brand is called  ʻōpuʻu lā! and although mika and her mama still haven’t talked properly since she left the house, mika still wears sunscreen every single damn day. you won’t catch her slipping on that! she reaplies once every two hours to, your girl is dedicated. 

omg i almost forgot, but mika wrote a fanfic as a teenager that is like wildly popular. like she’s literally having publishers like reach out to her wanting to smack that thing into like real life bookstores. honestly, mika hates the fic and thinks it’s stupid, but she’s not going to say no to money. i imagine that the fic was like ??? a maze runner fic maybe. baby has some class yk. 

also bi !

i’m slowly realizing she’s got a bit of the vibes of lilo from lilo and stich but yk what that’s okay, we love lilo and we’re moving on 

here is her pinterest board 

and here are some tiktoks that remind me of her! x o x o x o

WANTED CONNECTIONS. might go raw dog it at the grocery store (no list)

i would love all the connections besties, but i would be so down for a best friend, coworkers at the resort who they have like a work wife/work husband vibe with, their roomies, an ex crush cause i always think those are funny, someone with a crush on her, someone who she has a crush on, exes, ewbs, fwbs, an enemy, or like an old rival, like who won gold at ms. hawaii,,, i’d love to know! and literally anything else? like this to plot and we can even brainstorm something!

[ricardo-irving]

The Intern

Russell Jones was a fresh-faced intern in his senior year at college. He was the top of his class in biology and had been scouted by the Nautilus Pharmaceuticals Corporation for his senior project. Every biology major at the local university were well-acquainted with the corporation and how they manufactured vaccines for third world countries and were often sending medicinal supplies to other countries that were victims to bio-terrorist attacks. The company was very open about its philanthropic endeavors, so Russell was happy to have this padding his resume. If luck was in his favor, this could even result in a career as Nautilus was known to pay its scientists and researchers handsomely.

Each week Russell shadowed a different scientist, learning what went into the vaccines and how to help with the various aspects of the company. However, one of the scientists took him aside his first day with quite the peculiar warning. “If anyone by the name of ‘Ricardo’ talks to you, asks for your help or assistance, for the love of God ignore him.” 

“How will I know who he is?” Russell had asked only for the employee to respond, “Oh, you’ll know.”

That had been a few weeks ago and up until now, Russell hadn’t seen anyone that stood out in a sea of lab coats. It had to be someone that enjoyed playing pranks on interns. Some of his classmates who had interned at other companies mentioned a prank of where an eyeball got dropped into their drink, so this “prank” was tame by comparison. It just kept him on his toes. 

“You’re the new kid, aren’t cha? The Holy Mothah University?” came a voice from behind him as he was taking his lunch break. The man sat down in front of him, dressed in a grey suit and green button-up shirt. He didn’t fit in with the other scientists, but there were no alarms going off in Russell’s head.

“Yea, I am,” Russell said slowly, watching as the other man took a fry off his plate. Curiosity got the better of the college student as he asked, “You wouldn’t happen to be Ricardo, would you?”

“Kralin Osborne,” said the man promptly, a broad grin on his homely face. “I woik on the business side of things so it makes sense that you wouldn’t see me down in the labs much. You look like a smaht kid, like you’ll go fah in life, maybe even here at Nautilus if you play your cards right.”

Russell couldn’t help but smile at that, as in his hopeful mind it sounded like this could potentially be talks to get hired on fulltime after graduation. “You really mean that, Mr. Osborne?”

Kralin’s grin didn’t falter at the young man’s eagerness. “Sure! We hiyah from that University moah than any othah in this state. The thing is, we’ve had students from all the Ivy Leagues, and while they do well, Holy Mothah University made their science programs especially ta make onboardin’ ta Nautilis easiah for students. I should know, I woik with the university ta get students jobs.”

In Russell’s eagerness, he failed to notice how Kralin’s grin didn’t match up to his eyes and how those very eyes had an almost predatory gleam to them. His appetite for lunch was gone in the excitement that this most likely meant he was going to get hired on. “W-well, I..I’m due to graduate at the end of May.”

“Poifect! All the bettah,” exclaimed Kralin, matching the young man’s excitement. “Typically, before we go about even considerin’ hirin’ a student, we like ta see the woik they’ve done durin’ their time at Nautilus. I’d like if you could take me down ta the labs so that I can see your notes an’ what you’ve done so fah.”

Russell stood up, forgetting his lunch in favor of showing this man all of his projects. “Of course, Mr. Osborne! It’s just...I need a scientist with a badge to escort me down there first. The woman I’m shadowing today went out for lunch an-”

Kralin held a hand up, silencing the young man. “Don’t cha worry about it. I’ve got clearance. We’ll just go down there togethah an’ see if you’re Nautilus material.” The man stood up, taking one last fry from Russell’s plate before gesturing for him to follow. 

Russell didn’t notice how mindful Kralin was to not show his keyboard as he swiped it on the scanner, nor did he seem to pay much mind that they were going past the floors he was typically one until he heard it ding for the fourth time in the sub-basement. 

“Mr. Osborne,” said Russell at last as the pair stepped out of the elevator. “I’ve never worked on this floor before. I don’t have clearance for...” he trailed off as he saw the stark whiteness of the walls and the rows upon rows of vials, beakers, and cages that he’d never seen before. He didn’t make a sound as he slowed his pace, getting the red flags suddenly going off in his head. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be down here.”

Kralin Osborne continued behind him, his smile broadening as he showed his pearly white teeth. “If ya wanna woik for Nautilus, ya gotta know your stuff, kid. What they have ya woiking with upstairs with the vaccines, the medicine, all that shit isn’t even a drop in the bucket for this company. Ya think we continue ta thrive as a pharmaceutical company givin’ away vaccines for free?” Kralin burst out laughing and it send a shiver down the college senior’s spine. 

“No, here at Nautilus, ya gotta play both sides,” he continued, stopping at one of the counters and pulling out an empty syringe. “It makes us both the hero an’ the bad guy, ya see. Problem is, there are some things down here that don’t always see the light of day an’ there’s been one thing I have been very curious about.”

Russell was very quickly realizing the horrendous mistake he made as he started backing up, back towards the elevator. “I-I-I can’t help you. I-I-I don’t think I-”

“You’re not getting through that elevator without a pass and unfortunately for you, I’m the only one with a pass down here,” said Kralin calmly, reaching into his pocket to grab a little orange vial that he loaded into the syringe. “Ya wanna woik for Nautilus--moah specifically me--I’m givin’ you two options here.”

The man held the syringe out to Russell with his left hand as he leveled his sea blue eyes on him. “Option A--take this syringe an’ use it. I know what’s in it and it ain’t gonna kill ya. Option B, howevah--” He reached into his jacket with his right hand and pulled out his Beretta as he pointed it at the now panicking college student. “Will.”

“Oh god!” screamed the young man, only to be shushed by Kralin, which only made him panic more. Russell was so close to graduating, getting a good job, and actually making something of himself! He was young, he had his whole life ahead of him and had his worldview shattered by learning that Nautilus wasn’t the great, selfless company that his university had been pushing. “What-what-what’s in the syringe?!”

Kralin grinned and kept it outstretched in his hand. “Somethin’ I have woiked extensively with. You ain’t gonna die an’ I need some questions answered with it. I’ve been the only one for years now, an’ I just need ta conduct an experiment that I didn’t get to then.”

Russell stared at the syringe, frozen in place. He didn’t trust a word coming out of this man’s mouth. It was take the syringe now and die later or refuse it and die immediately. He looked from the syringe to the Beretta and at last to the man holding both. It was like making a deal with the devil. He took in a deep breath and licked his dry lips as he reached out to the syringe and took it in his own hand.

Kralin’s grin was immediately wiped off his face as Russell threw it to the ground, shattering the contents inside. The college student didn’t even have the chance to run before two well-placed bullets had Russell lifeless before he hit the ground. “I gave you the choice I nevah had!” he snapped at the body as if it was still alive, “Now look what happened to ya. You’re dead an’ I’m out a plaga sample.”

He holstered the gun, pulled out his badge as he stared at it briefly. The ID had a goofily grinning man and his name right next to it: Ricardo Irving. He made his way to the elevator, scanned it, and left. The hazmat crew could take care of the rest.

[redisriding]

The Right Swipe - Chapter Four

A Court of Thorns and Roses Modern AU Fanfic

All character’s belong to the wonderful Sarah J Maas.

Tag List: @superspiritfestival  @duskandstarlight @perseusannabeth​ @courtofjurdan​ @omg-aelin​ @keshavomit​ @rainbowcheetah512​

“What about this one?”

“No, it still doesn’t look right.”

“How are you both bigger and smaller than me at the same time?”

“All my suits are tailored to me, they’re not the cheap off the rack stuff you buy.”

“You say that like I own more than one suit.”

“Don’t you?”

“Nope. One suit. I wear it weddings and funeral, that’s it.”

“Then why do you need to wear one tonight?”

“Because, Rhys said this place is fancy, as in dress code fancy. They have some stupid rule about wearing jackets.” Cass sighed. He thought it would be easy to borrow something of Az’s to wear tonight for his date with Nesta, they were roughly the same size. Turned out Az was both leaner and slightly taller than he, and when the former got his clothes tailored, they looked stupid on the latter. There was no point asking Rhys, if Az’s jackets didn’t fit Cassian, Rhys’s definitely wouldn’t.

Az cocked his head to one side surveying Cassian. “Why are you bringing her to this place anyway?”

“Because it’s fancy and she’s the kind of girl who you have to bring fancy places.”

“Perhaps, but you’re not fancy—.”

“Thanks?”

“No, hear me out. You have been talking to this girl and you like her, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re getting dinner so you can get to know each other better, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“But this guy,” Azriel gestured to Cassian standing in front of him in an ill-fitting suit, “Is not who you are. You don’t go to fancy restaurants that have dress codes and names of food you can’t pronounce or alcohol you can’t afford. And this girl…Nesta?”

“Nesta.”

“She has been getting to know you over the last week and a half too. She must like you if she’s agreed to go on a date. Do you not think she’s going to realise pretty quickly that a fancy restaurant is not your scene at all.”

Cassian sat down on the end of Azriel’s bed and put his head in his hands. He did not need this right now. He was nervous enough about his date with Nesta he didn’t need his best friend to undermine his plans for the evening with logic. 

“I don’t stand a chance with her if I don’t take her somewhere nice. I know she’s been on dates with other guys, I’m sure they’ve brought her to the best places in Velaris. I need to go all out if I want to impress her.”

“Who cares where other guys take her, she’s single and going on a dat with you, so it clearly hasn’t worked out with them.”

“All the more reason to go all out.”

“Be real Cass, you don’t stand a chance with her at all if she thinks that you really are whoever you’re pretending to be tonight. Sooner or later it’s all going to come tumbling down.” 

When he looked back on it later Cassian would realise that not only were Azriel’s words true, but they weren’t really intended for Cassian. They were words that he wanted to say to someone else. Someone who had lead him to believe that they were one thing, a thing that Azriel fell in love with, and when that person revealed their truth, his whole world crumbled. 

But in the moment, confronted with his own insecurities, Cass didn’t react the way he wished later he had. 

“That’s the thing though Az, girls don’t like the real me.”

“Girls like you—.”

“No Az, they don’t! Girls like you, they always have. Mysterious Azriel, he’s so handsome, he’s so smart, he’s so talented,” Cassian was aware that his tone had turned mocking but it was too late for him to roll back on it, “they liked you before you had fame and money, they sure as hell like you more now. If you weren’t so terrified of having your heart broken again then maybe you would see it too.”

He knew he had said the wrong thing the second the words were out of his mouth. Regret flooded Cassian as Az recoiled from him as if he had been dealt a physical blow. 

He stood from the foot of his bed where they both sat and headed for the door. 

“No, Az, I’m sorry I didn’t mean that…I just—.”

“Good luck on your date tonight Cass,” Azriel said cutting him off. “I hope for your sake you don’t fuck it up.”

Azriel’s words, his wounded expression, bounced around in Cassian’s head an hour later as he stood outside the entrance to the House of Wind. 

Okay, that was a lie. He couldn’t standing still. He was pacing up and down the sidewalk, no doubt wearing away the soles of Azriel’s shoe’s he had stuffed his feet into. They were the only thing he wore that fit. 

Cassian didn’t think he’d ever been as nervous in his entire life. Then again, he had never been on a proper date before. 

He’d had drinks before. When they were in school, he would hound Az into asking one of the girls who hung around the hockey team out for milkshakes, and convince her to bring a friend for Cassian. It always ended the same though, he would gaze longingly at the girl, trying to strike up conversation, while she would have eyes for no-one but Azriel. It was pathetic, and Cassian remembered being awkward, but never nervous. Maybe because Azriel’s presence meant there was no real chance of anything happening. No risk of being rejected by someone he really wanted. 

Later he would sometimes ask Emerie for a drink as a prelude to their evening. He liked the company. 

But he had never been on a ‘try to find out if we’re compatible enough to spend the rest of our lives together over the course of a dinner’ date before. 

And he was terrified. 

He desperately wanted to run his hands through his hair, a nervous habit of his. He had tried a couple of times too. Only then to remember that he had gelled his wild mane in place in order to look presentable for tonight. 

The doormen eyed him as he paced back and forth, like they knew he didn’t belong there. If there was one thing that Cassian learnt living in the mountains however, was that you should never show weakness. Not to the wild creatures that lived in the forrest, not in the face of the potentially deadly weather, and certainly not in front of the battled hardened locals. 

So, he met those stares right back with a menacing one of his own. 

His fingers found the soft petals of the rose he held. He had bought it for Nesta from one of those carts that rolled around the city, catching men unawares as they strolled with their ladies. He knew it was an over priced and cheesy but it had felt right. 

He might not be the kind of guy who wears suits and eats in fancy places often, but he knew that if he had a girl he would absolutely dote on her. And so a single rose seemed like a good place to start. 

It was on what felt like his millionth time passing the restaurant that he saw her. Crossing the road towards him, she emerged from the bustle of pedestrians like Aphrodite from her shell. 

Cassian’s world seemed to slow. The nerves that flooded his body became still. The only thing that he was aware of was his breathing and her. 

Nesta. Nesta. Nesta. 

Something deep inside of him was called to the surface at the sight of her. 

She was every bit as stunning if not more than she was in her pictures, brought to life by movement. 

Dressed in a simple, yet elegant grey dress, her hair was coiled on top of her head. It was then that he remembered her bio, how apt it was, a queen that he would have to earn.

“Cassian?” She asked, her expression quizzical as she neared him. 

“Hi—,” Cassian squeaked. Squeaked! He hadn’t heard his voice that high since his balls had dropped. Loudly clearing this throat, he tried again. “How are you?”

Better. 

“Good thanks. How are you?” She came to a stop, looking up at him with deep stormy eyes that cut right to his core. 

His head emptied as he gazed down at her. She was so much smaller than him, her head reached the middle of his chest. Her body was soft and curvy; deliciously feminine, but her face…the pictures didn’t do her beauty justice. The depth of her eyes, which she had lined with kohl for dramatic effect. Her high cheek bones. And Cassian didn’t allow his gaze to drop to her lips, which she had painted a deep red. It was sinful.

He was still motionless, gaping like a fish, when she moved. Stepping closer to him and rising up onto her tiptoes, she placed a hand gently on his shoulder to steady herself. A jolt of electricity shot through Cassian, his senses suddenly shocked back into action. 

He leaned down to meet her. He went to his left as Nesta went to her right. Instead of bussing cheeks, he ended up colliding with her mouth. 

His lips met hers. 

It was only a gentle brush. 

And only for a second. 

But it was fireworks. 

Like a star exploded somewhere inside of him.

Cassian’s fists clenched as he tried to restrain himself from grabbing Nesta and pulling her onto him right in the middle of the busy street. 

A small laugh came from Nesta as she stepped back. Her cheeks were stained faintly pink. 

It only added to her beauty. 

Cassian felt his own cheeks heat, and knew that in comparison he resembled a tomato. 

He looked down, away from her for a moment, and cringed. The rose was a crumpled mess in his thick palm. He flushed further. He wished he could hide it, or dump it in a bin somewhere, but Nesta had already seen.

“Eh…this is for you,” he thrust the rose awkwardly at her. 

Nesta accepted the rose with a wry smile, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I really shouldn’t have,” Cassian sighed, “I’ve already ruined this date and it hasn’t even started properly.” 

Nesta didn’t seem to hear. She looked down at the rose, rubbing one of the crushed petals between her finger tips. 

Cassian just watched her for a moment, unsure what to say. Maybe he should call the whole thing off now, to save whatever dignity he had left.

But when Nesta looked back up at him, something in her face had changed. “So, shall we go in?”

————

Nesta had to suppress a laugh. The date was going badly. Terribly even. It was categorically, beyond a shadow of a doubt the worst date that she had ever been on. 

Cassian was not what Nesta had expected at all. The person sitting across the table from her was not the sexy mountain man from his pictures, whom she had been messaging for the last week and a half. 

Another lesson in online dating, she supposed, you really need to meet a person in order to get to know them. 

But that was just it. Nesta didn’t think she was getting to know Cassian at all. 

Instead, she was on a date with the person Cassian thought she wanted him to be. 

She should have guessed when he had first suggested that they get dinner at the House of Wind that it was somewhere he thought she expected to be brought, rather than somewhere he would ever actually go. 

Nesta had been to the House of Wind on many occasions, most recently a few days previously when she had met another Swipe date, Eris, here for drinks. A fact that Nesta thought was best not to mention to Cassian. 

The House of Wind might be fancy, but it was cliché. The kind of place men brought women to lubricate them - socially, with alcohol - before they brought them home to their bed. 

Sure, that was what Eris had done, wasn’t it?

On the many previous occasions that Nesta had been at the House of Wind she had never seen a guy like Cassian there. 

The type of guy who, in an attempt to look presentable, used so much gel in his wild hair that it more closely resembled a helmet. Who cobbled together a suit, that clearly neither matched nor belonged to him, in order to meet the dress code.

The type of guy who brought his date a crumpled rose to impress her. 

The gesture was so tender that something hard inside Nesta’s chest had cracked at the sight of it.

Thomas had only bought flowers to appease Nesta after an argument. ‘Now let us forget about all that’ he would say to her. Flowers were a sign that he was done arguing and wanted to sweep the matter under the rug, resolved or not.

Nesta glanced at the rose that was lying on the table beside her. She knew, regardless of how this date ended, she was going to bring it home and put it in water. And then, when it eventually died, she was going to press it gently between the pages of a book and keep it forever. 

A memory of this night. 

That she was deserving of someone who cared about her. 

Cassian cared. He cared about impressing her, about making sure she had a good night. He cared so much about what Nesta thought of him that it was stifling any attempt of getting to know him. 

And he was nervous. 

That much was apparent when he clumsily bungled their greeting. 

He still had lipstick on his face from when he’d accidentally kissed her. It had only been the faintest of brushes of their lips, but Nesta’s heart had leapt. 

Something had ignited inside of her like a burning fire. 

More than it had when Devlin had taken her to his bed the night before. Even with his head between her legs she hadn’t felt that much of thrill. 

So Nesta didn’t tell Cassian about the lipstick.

“Everything okay?” She asked, as Cassian looked up from the bill that had been handed to him.

“Eh…yeah. It’s just…” he blanched. 

“Yes?”

Whatever he was going to say he decided better of it. “Nothing,” Cassian shook his head, “I just need to make a quick call. I’ll be right back.” 

Cassian hurried away from the table, towards the door. Once he was out of view, Nesta leaned across the table and picked up the bill. 

Ah. 

She figured she hadn’t known he was ordering $100 glasses of whiskey. She probably should have said something, but she didn’t want to emasculate him. Other men she dated would not have reacted well to that. 

Beckoning for the waiter, she pulled her credit card from her purse. 

The date was truly awful, and yet Nesta found herself utterly endeared. 

———--

Across town, squeezed into a tiny little sushi restaurant, Elain laughed. Harder than she had laughed in a very long time. 

Maybe it was the foreign feeling of food warming her belly, or the Sake that she had been sipping, but Elain was pretty sure it was the company itself. 

“That’s not true!” She giggled at Lucien’s latest punchline. 

“I swear it on my life,” he said, his eyes going wide, sincere. 

“I still don’t believe you.”

“Scouts honour!”

“I bet you weren’t even in the Scouts.”

Lucien laughed, raising his hands in the air, caught. “Okay, I was not in the Scouts…But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

Elain giggled again. Lucien was not only more handsome in person, but his easy and charming nature had put Elain at ease from the beginning. 

“Elain.” Lucien said, his laughter dying. 

“Yeah?”

“I think this place is closing.” 

“What? Oh!” Elain looked behind her to find the restaurant empty and the staff beginning to clean up. Tucked into a little nook, Elain felt like her and Lucien could have been in a world of their own. 

Elain glanced at her phone. There was a text from Feyre in their sister group chat, wishing her and Nesta good luck on her respective dates, but it was the time that had Elain jumping up. 

“Oh figglesticks, the time! I must hurry if I want to make the last train.”

Lucien gave her an amused look. “Figglesticks?”

Elain felt herself blush, “Sorry, I’m just used to being with children all day. It’s bad to swear.”

“I think it’s very sweet,” he said with a soft smile, “Let me just pay and I’ll walk you to the train.”

Elain made a move to pull her purse from her bag but Lucien stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm, a shiver went through her. “This is on me,” he said. 

“You’re very kind,” she said, blushing again. 

It had been a long time since a man had done anything like that for her. In an instant the warm mood of the evening evaporated, fear overtaking her. What if Lucien was only paying because he wanted something from her in return? Was she safe walking with him to the train stations? What if he dragged her down an alleyway and had his way with her? Leaving her cold and crying with no way to get home. 

Elain closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. This were the kind of intrusive, anxious thoughts that she had been working to overcome with her therapist. 

There was nothing in Lucien’s behaviour tonight to suggest that he was anything other than a nice guy.

“Ready?” He asked, returning from paying for their meal. 

“Yes.” 

He offered her his arm as they stepped out into the cold autumn night. 

“The nights here are beautiful,” he said, gazing up at the clear nights sky. 

“Velaris is the best place to go star gazing.” 

“Sure looks that way.” 

“Have you been here for Starfall?”

“Not yet, I’m looking forward to it.”

“My sister always throws a huge party to celebrate. It is really spectacular.” 

“I can only imagine.”

The continued like that, strolling along on the empty streets, looking at the sky, chatting about nothing in particular until they reached the train station. 

“So…” Lucien said, coming to a stop, “I had a really great time tonight.”

“Me too!”

“You sound surprised?”

Elain shrugged, “I guess I didn’t really know what to expect.”

“Would you maybe like to do it again sometime?”

“Yes, I would really like that.”

“Good,” Lucien smiled. 

He hesitated for a moment, before deciding to lean in.

Elain held her breath, her fingers wrapping around the keys in her pocket. A pathetic weapon, but one that might make the difference if she needed it. 

But Lucien simply brushed his lips to her cheek before pulling back. “Safe home, Elain.”