#i want the bag from there latest launch but didn’t have money and now I do

[samanthasgone]

I would totally wear this if it was my size. It’s only $150.00 free shipping. Lol

Credit goes to the seller on Mercari.

[aeon-borealis]

I'm trying to get back into fic-writing. There's an idea dump for "One Word: Revenge" sitting in my drafts and I'm really hoping to get that one started before October 31.

My latest attempt at writing anything AleHeather is based on an ask I got awhile ago about Heather cheering up Alejandro. Honestly, I want the full fic done before answering it. For some context, Alejandro and Heather are in their late twenties and living together.

Here's what I have so far:

At the beginning of the week, Alejandro had been as clean-cut, attentive, and affectionate as ever. He enjoyed doing small things like opening the door when Heather took off for work, breakfast in bed, covering her shoulders with his cardigan if she dozed off in the armchair. But as the week wore on, it was a miracle if he peeled himself out of bed before noon. It started with his shirts slowly covering up more skin. He’d progressed from shirt collars with four buttons undone to a food-stained tank top.

His hair was up more often and there were more flyaways and dandruff than the day before. Oatmeal with peach slices or berries was switched out for bowls of Heather’s Cheerios. He’d even grabbed the cheat day chocolate corn flakes. He hated chocolate. Yet the man that gave Blue Apron meal kits a run for their money was scraping the sides of a bowl with cocoa-drenched milk and soggy scraps of cereal stubbornly clinging to the ceramic.

Heather scrunched her brow. She wasn’t good at this. Out of everybody she knew and gave a shit about, Alejandro was one of only two people she could have intimate conversations with. And usually, he took the initiative and started said difficult conversations when they needed to. Something was fucked enough that he wasn’t willing to launch that attempt; either that, or he didn’t have the energy? Heather was wondering if he might be depressed?

She wouldn’t be surprised. She definitely was, but by her therapist’s definition, they were both high-functioning. No...the horrible honest truth was that she was stubbornly brute-forcing her way through trauma while Alejandro had immediately sought out meds, therapy, and approaching his issues with a fine-toothed comb. The man knew how to play the long game even when it seemed like life was fucking him extra hard.

“Alejandro….?” Her throat felt like it was full of extra thick tar.

“Hrmmm…” When he looked up, it was hard to not just stare at the deep eye bags and extra forehead wrinkles.

“Are you okay?”

Alejandro looked at her for a long few seconds, blinked, and groaned. He ran his fingers through hair at the base of his neck as he shook his head. “No.”

At that, she waited. She met his eyes and when it became excruciating to keep looking into that goose egg green, she moved her gaze between his thick brows. Despite herself, she felt the impulse to chase down a pair of tweezers and start plucking at the more unkempt hairs. How many small things did he do that she was only now becoming painfully aware of? The list was growing longer and becoming a weight pressing down on her shoulders.

“Ah….” She rolled her hand in what she hoped was a “go on…” gesture.

“I answered your question. I’m not okay.”

“Yeah…?”

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his pathetic cereal scraps.

“Alejandro….” Heather used a stern tone of voice.

He looked at her briefly, lips drawn into an intense scowl. For a moment, he was winding up to say something from how his shoulders moved and brows carved into his face. Just as quickly, he turned back away. Shoulders slumped. The spoon stopped picking at the bowl. Then he turned again but Heather saw this utterly defeated look cross his face before it was just his back.

Frustrated, she picked up her bowl, scooped up his bowl and walked past him into the kitchen. Her heart ached as she looked at him again in the other room. While he was only a few steps away, the distance felt like miles from the Arctic breeze wafting off of him.

Everything about his closed-up posture screamed “fuck off.” Heather was way too familiar with people turning their backs to her or pretending she was invisible. Every instinct was itching to stomp over, grab Alejandro’s shoulder, spin him around, and scream in his face. Scream until her face turned bright red.

Instead, she sighed heavily and quickly sped out of the room.

----

“It’s been awhile! I’m happy to hear from you, Heather.”

Heather wished she had an old cord phone instead of a glorified Star Trek brick so she had something to fidget with right now.

“How are-?” There was a loud scream and several giggles in the background. Carlos shushed and spoke softly to a small babbling child before he returned and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m in the middle of babysitting my niece. Athena’s taking over in a few minutes, so bear with me.”

“I can’t wait for your own little gremlins!” Heather started pulling at the rubberband around her wrist. She didn’t pick at her nails for years, but then she met Alejandro’s brother’s fiance Athena. She was a ball of anxious energy with a high-pitched voice; the kind of person Heather judged harshly, the kind of person she would have demolished on Total Drama. Instead, they bonded over Athena’s huge stash of glitter pens and somehow, Heather found the older sister she never knew she wanted. It was Athena’s fault that Heather was back to fighting that terrible nail-picking habit she thought she’d conquered at age nine.

“They’ll be visiting Aunty Heather often,” Carlos chuckled. “So, what’s up?”

“How do I put this?” Heather groaned. “Alejandro’s pretty much shut down. He’s letting himself go. Like, not doing his hair and wearing sweats all the time. It’s...kinda how you described happened after World Tour?”

Carlos hissed and took a long breath.

“Make sure World of Warcraft isn’t installed on his computer…”

“He only has Zelda games and some DDR like stuff.”

[slippinmickeys]

A Sequel: Amazon Archeologist/Scientist AU, Part 2:

You can read on AO3 here.

1. “How does it feel to have cured cancer?” asked Kathy Lee. Scully couldn’t take her eyes off the rim of the host’s wine glass; it was smeared with lipstick, and the wine contained therein had legs, running down the bell curve of the glass in thin amber stripes.

It was oddly, surreally quiet on the unnaturally blazing stage -- multiple cameras pointing at them, a team of professionals sitting in dead silence in the dark spread out below.

“I only wish I’d done it sooner,” Scully said, going off script a bit. “I think of the people that died while we were still searching, still researching, while the studies were being checked and… I just wish I’d found it sooner.”

The host’s face softened, and she reached forward and put her hand over Scully’s on the arm of the chair where it was resting. She gave it a squeeze and Hoda took over, “Up next, the group BTS is going to sing us their latest single!”

There was a dull bell that rang off to Scully’s right and the stage manager stepped forward, headphones clomped over his ears, his mic slung low around his jaw.

“We’re clear!” he called, “Sixty seconds!”

The show would be cutting to a co-host standing at a stage set-up outside 30 Rockefeller Center. Scully reached up to unhook the mic attached to her lapel, and a trio of sound technicians descended on her. In ten seconds, she was relieved of all equipment, and she was left swaying in the funnel of the Fresnels on the too bright stage.

“You did great,” she heard from her left, and the show’s host winked at her, and retook her hand, leading her to the dim cool just off stage.

She found Mulder standing before her once her eyes adjusted, just outside the reach of the stage lights, looking nervous and out of place, his hands clasped behind his back. He was wearing a turtleneck and a suit coat, looking every inch the tenured professor.

“And who’s this?” Kathie Lee asked, looking at Mulder brightly.

Scully shook herself, trying to remember her manners. It wasn’t always easy, having spent so much time in the field.

“Uh, this is Mulder,” she said, “Dr. Fox Mulder. My, um… my fiancé.”

The television host smiled warmly at Mulder and clasped his hand.

“I’ve heard the story of your meeting,” Kathie Lee said, “It’s a real pleasure.”

“I’m a big Giants fan,” Mulder said, giving her hand a firm shake, “the pleasure’s all mine.”

The host winked at him and then stalked off, and Scully exhaled, falling a little into Mulder’s side.

“I’m glad that’s over,” she said.

“The price you pay for changing the course of human history,” Mulder mumbled, squeezing her into his side and kissing her hairline. He led her off the soundstage and into a waiting limo.

2. It had been a whirlwind since the Nobel Prize Award ceremony in Stockholm. It was cold in Sweden in December — especially to a person who’d spent years in the humid jungles off the beaten paths of the world, and she and Mulder both felt out of place and perpetually in the clasp of a bone-clutching chill.

“I just want to be back in the field,” she’d whisper to him, and he would kiss her hand. With the prize money, they could buy a house, start a family — but they both would rather be in a jungle somewhere, sweating into the other’s skin on a too-narrow cot, in a too-hot clime. There was no science when they were in the cradle of the other’s hips, there was just each other. Sex made life more simple. Sex made life more fun. But sex didn’t cure cancer. Pleurotus Mulderatus did that, and the world wanted to hear about it.

3.She had a free ticket. Any university, any assignment.

“I feel pressure,” she told him, her nose pressed into his ear. “What do you do after you’ve cured cancer?” she asked, earnestly, “there’s nowhere to go but down.”

He’d taken her to Rhode Island, to his family’s cottage in Quonochontaug, creaky and drafty and smelling of mildew and old pine. No one had visited in decades and everything needed to be cleaned and aired out.

They kayaked and frolicked in the waves, drank coffee in adirondack chairs and listened to the pinched squawks of hovering sea birds. They’d find a place in the dune grass, down low where the wind wouldn’t catch them. They’d soak up the sun and then go into the cottage and make love between the knotty pine walls, their moans absorbed by the thick shag carpet laced with the grit of sand, faded drunkards path quilts nailed to the walls.

“Down is a state of mind,” Mulder would murmur into her ear, “Up is fighting gravity. You have nowhere to be but here. You have no one to impress but me.”

He would catch her lips with his own and they would sink into each other gratefully.

4.Mulder was burning pancakes in the kitchen when there was a dull knock on the screen door.

Scully was laughing at Mulder’s culinary ineptitudes when she turned toward the sound, her laugh fading when a well-done-up woman appeared on the stoop, holding her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare, trying to see into the murky depths of the house.

“Are you press?” Scully asked through the screen door glumly, her mood taking a nose dive.

“I’m Samantha,” the woman said, and it took Scully a full five seconds for her synapses to fire, to figure out the identity of the visitor.

“Oh my god,” Scully said, swinging the door open to admit the polished woman waiting on the other side. The door itself was swollen with humidity and didn’t shut all the way -- it caught like there was a second latch. “Come in, come in!”

Samantha had a full head of thick hair just like her brother, but it was curled and tawny, streaks of not-quite-blonde highlights running from the roots. She was wearing Lily Pulitzer pastels, and would have looked at home in a sun hat or on the pages of Coastal Living.

“You must be Dana,” she breathed, smiling widely. Scully nodded and looked around self-consciously. “God, this place hasn’t changed in thirty years,” Samantha finished, shaking her head ruefully. “Where’s Fox?”

“Kitchen,” Scully said, inclining her head toward the cooking space, though she knew Samantha knew right where to go.

“You’re using the cast iron?” Samantha said boldly and apropos of nothing, stepping into the sunny kitchen, “God, I hope you seasoned that thing.”

Mulder’s face brightened at seeing his sister, and he turned to her fully, enveloping her in a hug, a greasy spatula in one hand, held out so as not to soil her clothes.

“Like you can cook,” he drawled, turning back to the smoking pan.

“I know enough to hire a caterer,” she said, plunking down in an olive green vinyl kitchen chair, looking at ease but totally out of place in the dated decor of the cottage. “So. Who do I have to fuck to get a mimosa around here?”

“Me,” said a voice from the entryway. The screen door slammed ineffectually shut and Scully’s own sister Melissa stood awkwardly in the slant of sun showing through it, holding several plastic bags laden with glass bottles and juices, a hopeful, nervous smile on her face.

“Missy?!” Scully squeaked, and Mulder looked to the door, his face chagrined and pleased as Scully launched herself at her sister, wrapping herself in the earthy patchouli smell of the woman, the plastic bags clunking to the floor at their feet.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“I got ordained online,” Melissa said, drinking a Bellini from a yellow smiley-face mug, her feet tucked under her on a rough-hewn dining chair. “It’s perfectly legal.”

“But it’s--” Scully started, then abandoned her argument. She looked to Mulder desperately, who smiled and plunked a cup of hot coffee in front of her.

“It was only an idea,” he said, squeezing her hand and sliding an ancient sugar dish in front of her. The crinkles around his eyes had hardened in the ocean-reflected sun, lending him an air of easy humor she hadn’t witnessed much of in the jungle.

“Don’t you need two witnesses?” she asked, realizing how lame it sounded the second the words were out of her mouth.

Samantha leaned over and grabbed her hand, squeezing her fingers in such a way that made her feel bolstered and secure. “Not in Rhode Island,” Mulder’s sister told her, looking her square in the eye.

“We don’t have to do it,” Mulder said, still standing at her side, “but I thought…”

She felt overwhelmed with emotion, thinking of her father, who hadn’t lived long enough to witness her greatest achievement, which would have saved his life.

“Mom sent her wedding dress,” Melissa said, holding up a garment bag -- it was a yellowed ivory in the kitchen sun, the zipper up its middle aged and brittle.

XxXxXxXxXxX

They exchanged vows on the beach in front of the old cottage in a whipping Atlantic wind. Gulls hovered overhead and the sun was as bright as a brass doorknob, the air clearer than glass.

Samantha had read a poem by an amateur poet named Tim Pratt called Scientific Romance (Mulder having confessed to her later that night that it only seemed right to have had a reading replete with scientific notation for a wedding between two people such as themselves). Melissa had read words as old as the institution of marriage itself and they exchanged simple rings and had eyes only for each other. Scully handed her bouquet -- a small posy of wild swamp azalea and yellow flag that Melissa had picked the hour before -- to her new sister in law as she strode up the peeling wooden steps of the house. Mulder had insisted upon carrying her over the threshold and Melissa and Samantha had stood back thoughtfully, and were now sitting closely on the beach, heads bent together, talking in hushed tones.

Scully didn’t know quite what to do with herself, dressed in old lace in the heavy salt air, her left ring finger feeling as heavy and pendulous as an old bell. Mulder wrapped his arms around her from behind and told her they never had to leave.

“Nobel Laureates live in Rhode Island, too, you know,” he whispered into the hair behind her ear.

“Mmm,” she said happily, watching her sister and his dig their feet in the gritty sand.

He kissed the skin where her shoulder met her neck. “Life can be as simple as the state motto.”

“Which is?” she asked.

“Hope.”

5. She stood above the riverbank, the grass a trampled, muddy squelch. A monkey called from overhead, a high primate shriek that echoed through the canopy. Its compatriots soon joined in, the welcoming committee announcing the rare arrival of a visitor.

He sat in the back of the approaching hollowed-out canoe, his knees practically to his neck, the lanky bones of him jutting out at all angles. He wore jeans and chambray, all wrong for the climate, but the blue set off the dark mink of his hair, and his eyes -- as green as the river upon which his boat perched -- caught hers from twenty yards away -- they held her gaze as the craft glided to shore, and he leapt off with the galumphing grace of a power forward.

“Dr. Scully I presume,” he said, finding his balance on the slippery shore and reaching a hand forward. She clasped it gratefully, then brought it to her belly, which was protruding out like a carved fertility statue, a life-sized goddess, gravid and full. “I thank God, doctor, that I have been permitted to see you,” he finished, and they embraced on the shores of the jungle river, perspiring and damp and finally, finally feeling at home.

[juminsmysticmc]

Been gone for a while, see requests open? Nice. Oh, and can I get the RFA react to an MC who is a game developer?

RFA with a game developer Mc  

Hey! of course, here you are! I hope you enjoyed this Headcanon! Please tell me your opinion, okay! 

Have a great day!

Jumin

,,It’s a pity that you already have to leave,’’ Jumin said as he walked you to your house.

,,Jumin, you know that we will be married soon! You will see me every day!’’ you chuckled and kissed him on his nose after you typed in your code to open the door.

,,Yes… but it’s 4pm!’’ he added, looking kind of like a baby.

You tried to explain that you still had to get ready for the next day since your investor wanted to see your demo game.

At that point, Jumin’s head was up again with his eyes staring into yours with surprise.

,,You work?’’ he asked you.

,,As what?!’’ he added.

You had to chuckle. Did he think that your bills would be paid by doing nothing? 

And so you explained that you were a game developer.

,,I write the storyline myself, the designs are done by me, and, in the end, even some of the programming,’’ you sighed.

,,Okay, I will be your Plan B if they don’t want to pay, okay? And after you live with me, I will make sure to get you some people who work below you to support you!’’ he told you and kissed you, going back.

You still could hear him talking to Jaehee and asking him to send Luciel to him so that he could buy everything he needed to support a game developer.

Zen

Being your boyfriend’s manager and also a game developer was tiring.

But even worse was to hide your second job from him.

It was a lot you had to do, but thank god you just had to do the design and the storyline on your own.

The reason you wanted to hide it was simple: You were working on a game where Zen was the main character.

This had to stay a surprise for him!

And so, months went by without Zen noticing that you were getting busier and busier.

Just when the news spread the rumor that a game was inspired by him, he began to notice that something was fishy.

,,This person has to know me… Maybe Luciel pranked me… These details are way too accurate… Look how handsome I am and how good my habits got described….’’ he praised you, without knowing that he was praising you.

,,It was me,’’ you finally told him, looking into his red eyes as they grew bigger.

,,What?’’ he asked you again.

,,It was me,’’ you repeated ,,I am the one who made this game. I’m a game developer, Hyun,’’ you finally said.

Your boyfriend was overjoyed that someone, his girlfriend at that, got inspired by him.

He was so overjoyed that he actually began to tear up…!

,,Tell me the storyline…’’ he whined a few days later as he read his lines on his phone, hoping you would give him a little spoiler...

Yoosung

The first time both of you were on dates, you tried to get to know each other better.

Both of you already knew a lot about the other.

You knew that Yoosung liked to play LOLOL and that he studied to become a vet.

Yoosung was pretty much interested about you and tried to get to know everything about you.

There was just one thing he never asked: what were you interested in at work?

Yoosung thought, from the start, that you were studying.

He wasn’t sure why, but he simply thought that you wanted to become an assistant just like Jaehee, seeing how interested you were in the RFA and how much you supported Jaehee for the last few months.

However, he got to know about your real degree - three months after dating.

,,Wow, they are using a really good designer, see these details?’’ you asked him, when you first visited him and watched him play LOLOL.

Yoosung looked up at you, question marks all over his face.

,,How do you know that?’’ he asked you.

,,Well, I am a game developer. This is my job,’’ you chuckled.

For a few seconds, it seemed as if Yoosung himself became a question mark.

,,And you didn’t tell me?’’ he asked you, kind of hurt.

,,Well, you never asked me… I thought you already knew or simply didn’t care…’’ you laughed, a bit embarrassed by now.

Yoosung immediately jumped up.  ,,NO, OH MY GOD! YOU’RE FAMOUS!’’ he exclaimed.

You laughed hard and tried to calm him down.

Both of you kind of became closer and you decided to bring him to your workplace.

,,This is my best friend, and the CEO, and this is my place,’’ you said to him, after he greeted your friend.

Looking around your workplace seemed like a game room.

You had a beautiful room with posters all over the wall and a lot of computers.

It seemed as if you were the female version of his friend Seven.

Since then, he came to visit you two times a week and observed you working on a new project. Once again, he realized how awesome you were and how lucky he was.  

Jaehee

,,That’s an amazing idea!’’ Jaehee nodded, pouring Seven another coffee, who for once, crawled out of his room to listen to the business idea you had.

,,I’m good, but I’m not that good to do it myself. That’s why I would love to have your support, Seven. I need you and I would like to also give you a part of the money,’’ you said.

,,Don’t let it fail! The girls are putting their all into it!’’ Zen warned the red haired boy, as he took a bite of the cake.

The whole RFA, except for V and Jumin, was in the shop, listening to your idea.

,,Again for me,’’ Yoosung begged, making Zen roll his eyes.

,,Okay, you know I’m a game developer and since I started business with Jaehee, I’m now on my own. However, I still want to do what I love, so I want to develop a game related to our shop.

People will work with us in a game and I want them to play the version here in our shop. If they all like it, we will launch it for the whole country!’’ you explained once again. This time, you didn’t use that many words Yoosung wouldn’t understand.

,,I think it’s a wonderful idea. We should also launch a cat game to-’’

,,NO!’’ Jaehee, Zen and you said at the same time, cutting Seven off.

,,I need a few more gadgets. I already got most of them from my old office,’’ you began, facing Seven, who listened to you and read your list.

Jaehee and Zen, as well as Yoosung, decided to leave you both alone.

,,Don’t you think that Jumin would like to invest?’’ Yoosung asked, using the moment to look at his phone and notice that he was way too late.

With a quick ,,Bye!’’ he jumped up, running towards the main street while his bag jumped up and down.

,,He will never change,’’ Zen laughed.

,,Yes, neither will Jumin… and luckily, never will Mc…’’ she chuckled and observed you, explaining to Seven what you pictured in your little head.

Saeyoung

,,Ah, so this is also made by her,’’ Saeyoung mumbled to himself as he played the game you developed.

It’d been a year since Saeyoung met you and managed to save his brother thanks to you.

He still remembered the first time he found out that you were a game developer while trying to do a background check on you.

Ever since then, he saw you as a rival and as the woman who could possibly win at all possible games.

However, a year later he was the one supporting you the most and helping you out, despite being jealous over you being so good.

,,Hello, yes, thank you very much. The virus attack could get stopped thanks to a personal friend. Yes, we are currently working on it… Yes of course! One moment,’’ you said over the phone, putting it away from your ear and telling your fiancé that someone wanted to talk with him and know how he managed to destroy the virus which almost destroyed your whole carrier.

,,Hello, Saeyoung Choi, fiancé of MC, what can I do for you?’’ he said, teasing you as you were rolling your eyes.

,,He is such an idiot,’’ Saeran commented. He was also working with you guys.

And you had to say that it was really helpful to have some people who could support you.

Designing and developing the storyline by now was funnier than earlier, when you had to also programm the game.

,,Okay, here you are, wifey.’’

,,I am still not your wifey, dummy,’’ you teased him and took your phone, changing the application on your phone to the saved pictures, where the current image of your latest project was displayed.

,,Okay,’’ you began, putting your hair behind in a ponytail, ,,Are you guys ready to work the whole night?’’ you asked them and began to let your fingers dance on the keyboard of your computer.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

26.01.2021// 22:13 MEST

[mmvalentine]

Home is Where You Are pt 4 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. CW: domestic and family violence. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Rhys pulled up outside Feyre's apartment block, and killed the engine. But for a moment, he didn't look at her. He wanted to draw out this moment, because spending the day with her was never enough time.

They had walked slowly around the house, Feyre wanting to touch every wall and surface to say goodbye. Most of the stuff they had just dropped off at the local op-shop, since it had been there for ten years and obviously wasn't needed now. A few times Feyre had packed into a box and taken with her, found treasures of their childhood. There was even a photo album, full of Feyre's family before they had fallen apart. Her father had always shied away from those early memories. In one particular photo, Rhys and Feyre stood in the garden with their arms around each other's shoulders, best-buddy style. Feyre had laughed at them, the same height and missing teeth and in ill-fitting hand-me-downs. It had been such a lovely time, and now Rhys had brought her back to her own apartment. To Tamlin.

He had to say something, didn't he? Rhys wrestled with the dilemma. He wanted to respect her life choices. He wanted her to know someone noticed. He wanted her to be safe.

"Thanks for driving," Feyre said. "I had a great time with you." She grinned. "And you do drive like a maniac." "I always have a great time with you," Rhys said. Feyre smiled, and went to get out of the car. Rhys put his hand on her arm, and she stopped.

"Just... take care of you, okay?" Feyre smiled again. "I always do," she said. "If you ever need.. anything. If you want some company, or some hot food, or a spare room. You're welcome to come to mine, okay?" Feyre tilted her head. "Why would I need a spare room, Rhys?" "No reason," Rhys said. "I'm thinking Tamlin snores, or something." Feyre rolled her eyes. "This again." "No!" Rhys said quickly. "I just... maybe everyone needs some place where no one can find them. Maybe your house used to be that for me and I'm feeling nostalgic because you've sold it."

Feyre looked at him for a long time. "Okay, Rhys," she said eventually. They sat for a moment longer.

"Well, I guess I've got fat cheques to write to my sisters," she said. "Goodnight, Feyre." "Goodnight Rhys."

And then she was gone.

Rhys didn't see Feyre for a while after that. He still texted her every now and again, but he figured if he talked to her too much it would be kind of weird. After all, she was engaged, and he was pretty sure the stupid, bubbly feeling he got when her name flashed up on his phone was not the response you were supposed to have to platonic texts.

So he gave himself boundaries- tried to wait for her to initiate most contact, tried hard not to flirt, and even tried to sound interested when she told him Tamlin's latest health craze.

The work project she was working on wrapped up and was a roaring success. The company hosted a small event to launch the campaign, but Feyre didn't end up being able to make it. She sent him an apology, saying she was too sick to come. He told her to feel better soon, and to let him know if she wanted anything brought over.

She wasn't missing out on much, actually. Rhys found these corporate events dreadfully boring, and they all blended into one after a while. He worked for a political magazine and he truly believed in its ideals- but every so often they had to peddle to people with money, and it made him feel dirty. He stayed as long as was polite, drinking white wine he did not enjoy, and then slipped away when he thought no one would notice.

Back in his apartment, Rhys hung his jacket on the back of a chair, and undid the first few buttons of his shirt. He poured himself a glass of brandy, and sat on the couch, trying to overwrite the taste of small talk and champagne. On his coffee table, early sketches Feyre had made were still scattered about. Although he despised the events, it had been a shame that Feyre had not been able to attend, if just to get the recognition for her work. He sat up, and picked up one of the drawings.

Feyre really was an incredible artist. There was something so soft, and tender in the strokes of her brush, even in these rudimentary impressions. If he stared long enough, he could almost imagine the way her fingers smudged the page, the crinkle in her brow as she concentrated on some of the finer details. The movement in the design somehow had him imagining the sound of her laugh...

Rhys put the drawing down, and rubbed his eyes with his palm. This line of thinking was entirely unproductive. He needed to go to bed.

And then there was a knock at his door.

Rhys looked up, then looked at his watch. It was a little past midnight, who was looking for him at this hour? He set his glass down, and padded to the door. And there stood Feyre.

"Don't say anything," she said, before Rhys could open his mouth. He leaned against the door frame, and took in the woman standing there. At her feet, was a stuffed duffel bag. Her eyes were red, and she was too thin. Across one cheek bone, an angry bruise had bloomed purple and red. Rhys' heart dropped into his feet, but as she asked, he didn't say anything.

"You still got that spare room?" she asked.

Rhys picked up her bag and moved it inside. Feyre stepped in, Rhys closed the door behind her, and then very gently, wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, as her arms came up to his back and she leaned into him. "I'm so sorry."

****

Th angst is reeeaallll but seriously my dudes we made it and I am about to get REAL fluffy on your asses. That's right, it's an angst-fluff-smut parade.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @asteria-of-mars@booksmusicandgoodvibes @burritowithfeels

[liss-99]

I'm sorry I had to : 93 × no body no crime

I'm so excited what you do for this :))

I cannot even tell you the reaction I had when I saw this prompt. This might be my favorite one yet. I hid it below the line because I love it that much!

TW: murder and violence, obviously

It was a secret she would take with her to the grave. 

Kate Sharma and Sophie Beckett became best friends during their first year of college. They were both averse to popularity and the social scene, electing instead to carve their own paths in life. Kate wished to become a social worker while Sophie had dreams of being an elementary school teacher. Their first meeting was in a freshman child psychology course, and the rest, as people often said, was history. 

They were there for each other through all of the life moments; their undergraduate and graduate programs, getting that first job, boyfriends, drunken nights, vacations, weekend hikes, vintage clothing shopping on rainy days, living together, everything. 

Sophie met a man eventually, Phillip Cavender. They married after only six months together, Sophie had been completely captured by him. He was from old money and he knew it, and while Kate didn’t particularly like him, she loved her friend, so she did her best to be supportive. Cavender never seemed to realize how great of a person Sophie was, and the veneer of their marriage quickly cracked. 

Both having busy lives and full-time jobs, the women didn’t get to see each other as often as they both would have liked. But, they did have a ritual, ensuring they got to catch up with each other. 

Every Tuesday, they would meet up at the local Olive Garden, their favorite chain restaurant since college, for dinner and a glass of wine, Chardonnay for Kate and Pinot Noir for Sophie. They usually chatted about work, romance, the latest news, whatever was on their minds. But this night, when Sophie arrived she looked more stressed out than Kate had ever seen her. Their wine had already arrived, the staff had come to learn the routine, so Sophie took a huge sip of hers and sighed as she sat down. 

“What’s the matter?” Kate asked, concerned about her best friend. Sophie looked as if she hadn’t been sleeping. 

“It’s Phil,” Sophie sighed. “He’s been acting different, and I don’t have any proof, but it smells like infidelity to me.”

“You think he’s cheating on you?” 

“All I know is he tastes like merlot whenever we kiss,” Sophie replied, “and we don’t drink merlot.”

Kate crossed her arms, waiting for more. 

“I was going through our joint account yesterday, you know, just for maintenance, to make sure everything was in order.”

“And?”

“There was a $1200 charge for Tiffany’s from three weeks ago. He hasn’t given me any jewelry since he proposed.”

“That bastard,” Kate exclaimed. “He’s absolutely cheating.”

“No there ain’t no doubt about it. I want to call him out.”

Sophie’s jaw clenched, which didn’t go unnoticed by Kate. 

“I think he did it but I just can’t prove it. A few undiscussed charges and the taste of wine aren’t enough to accuse my husband of cheating. 

“Ah, corpus delicti,” Kate sighed, sitting back in her chair. “No body, no crime.”

“Exactly. Without any proof, I don’t have grounds for divorce or he’ll ruin me. I think he did it, but I need proof. Even if it takes me until the day I die, I won’t let up.”

Kate raised her glass to cheers with Sophie, silently celebrating that her best friend would hopefully soon be rid of her scummy husband. 

~

Sophie wasn’t there Tuesday night at Olive Garden, at her job, or anywhere. It had been a few weeks since her revelation to Kate that she wanted to leave her husband. 

They’d canceled the previous week, with Sophie texting 

“Sorry, talking to Phil tn. Can’t make it to dinner. See you next week?”

And that was the last time Kate had heard from Sophie. It was unlike Sophie to be non-communicative, especially with her. When Cavender reported Sophie as missing the next day, Kate immediately grew suspicious. The police launched a full investigation, but Sophie was nowhere to be found. They deemed her a missing person. 

Kate drove by Sophie’s house one night, and in the driveway, she noticed something peculiar. Cavender’s truck had some brand new tires. Sophie had always been complaining that he wouldn’t get new ones even though the truck desperately needed them. Cavender always complained it was a rip-off, which was rich coming from someone as wealthy as he was. But now, all Kate could see were the shiny new tires. Also of interest was the way in which one Cressida Cowper had begun taking residence in Cavender’s house. It made a lot of sense when Kate thought about it, of course Cressida was his mistress. Kate had no doubts that Cressida probably slept in Sophie’s bed and everything as if Sophie had never even existed. 

Like a lightning bolt, it all clicked for Kate. The Cavender family was proud of their name, and nothing would ruin them more than a divorce less than a year after marriage. Sophie had told Kate the morning of her last text that she finally felt like she had enough evidence to confront Cavender about the cheating. Putting 2 and 2 together, Kate determined Cavender had done something to Sophie. 

He was a cruel man, and Kate was almost positive he abused Sophie throughout their marriage. But Sophie had been careful to hide any signs of mistreatment, so Kate had never been sure. But, without a doubt, Kate was positive Cavender had murdered Sophie, most likely because she accused him of an affair. 

The police, lousy pigs that they were, had quickly given up searching for Sophie, and without a body, there was no crime. Kate wouldn’t be able to prove that Cavender had murdered his wife, but she could enact revenge. 

It really was quite an easy decision. The world would be a better place without Phillip Cavender, and if justice wasn’t going to be given for Sophie’s death, Kate would take it herself. 

On the night she decided it would happen, Kate pulled her old handgun, dusty, covered in cobwebs, and placed it in her bag. She drove out of town, to Cavender’s mansion nestled on the edge of the woods, near a big lake. Kate knew Cressida was gone; the woman was a pharmaceutical sales rep and she was often on ‘business trips.’ 

Kate knocked on the door, and the look of surprise on Cavender’s face when he answered was almost retribution enough. 

“Kate, how can I help you?” He was cold to her, suspicious. 

“I just wanted to check in, see how you are doing with Sophie’s disappearance.” 

“Oh, of course, come in,” he turned, and Kate knew he wanted nothing less than for her to come in. 

With his back turned, she pulled the gun out of her bag and aimed it directly at his head. When he turned back around to feign conversation with her, his breath immediately hitched. 

“Kate, what the hell are you doing?”

“I know Sophie is dead, and that you’re the one who killed her.” 

“You have no proof,” he laughed smugly. 

“I don’t care. It’s the only explanation.”

“Okay? So you’re going to shoot me? That’s going to go over really well for you, if anything, it’ll just make it look like you’re the one who killed Sophie, even though, yeah, of course I was the one who did it. You really think I was about to let her accuse me of cheating and ruin my family? Think carefully about what you do next, Kate.”

Kate was stone-cold, unflinching, and she could see the terror behind his smirk. 

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m sure I’ll manage,” she said smoothly before she fired the gun. 

The look on Cavender’s face as he slumped over was one of complete disbelief as if it was the first time he would face consequences for his actions. 

When she was 15, Kate’s dad had made her and her younger sister Edwina get boating licenses. He believed it was important to know how to operate all kinds of moving vehicles, ‘just in case.’ 

Kate was grateful for her father’s thinking as she dragged Cavender, wrapped up in a plastic bag, out back to his dock. She heaved his body into the boat, before boating out to the middle of the slimly inhabited lake. It was pitch black outside, and she’d cut the lights on the boat; no one would ever know she was there. With carefully gloved hands, a trick she knew from her crime podcasts and tv shows, she pushed Cavender over the side of the boat, and listened to the glorious sound of him sinking. 

Later, she meticulously cleaned the house, removing any signs of a murder. She cleaned enough houses throughout her life to know how to cover up a scene. 

The next morning, she sent Posy, Sophie’s stepsister, a text. 

“If anyone asks, swear you were with me last night?”

“I swear it.”

Kate wasn’t the only one who disliked Cavender; Kate knew Posy would say whatever to protect her. 

Several days later, when it became public knowledge that Phillip Cavender was missing, news quickly spread of the big life insurance policy Cressida Cowper had taken out just a week prior. Kate hadn’t known this prior to the act, but it made things all the better for her. 

Everyone assumed Cressida had axed Cavender, in hopes of a large sum of money, but with no body, there was no crime, and they just couldn’t prove it. 

Kate was pretty sure Cressida knew what she had done, the way they locked eyes on each other in the town center. Cressida had flames in her eyes when she looked at Kate, but she would never be able to prove it. 

So, the disappearances of Sophie Beckett and Phillip Cavender were never solved; Kate Sharma was the only one to ever know the truth. 

It was a secret she would take with her to the grave.

Taylor Swift Bridgerton One-Shots

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posting the full article under the cut because it’s “subscriber exclusive” but the thing i specifically wanted to take issue with is this

Wheeler acknowledged in a recent interview that his and the county’s focus for years has been about the “long-term strategies of getting people into housing.”

this is a lie. he threatened, to county chair deborah kafoury, to defund housing programs, as an ultimatum or bargaining chip, after his handling of protests over the summer turned into a national public relations disaster... this endangered his mayoral re-election so much, he had to spend more from his trust fund on his campaign than any of his actual contributors had

Homeless sweep at Laurelhurst Park By Shane Dixon Kavanaugh | The Oregonian/OregonLive

When city officials cleared a sprawling homeless encampment at Southeast Portland’s Laurelhurst Park in November, they offered the 100 people living there a safe place indoors to sleep.

Most declined shelter at Mt. Scott Community Center, opting instead to remain in the streets.

Scott M., 50, was one of about two dozen to give the shelter a try.

He ditched the refurbished bicycle parts and assorted camping gear he sometimes sold to earn a few extra dollars, as well as his large tent.

“I gave up everything to go there,” said Scott, who provided only the first initial of his last name.

Scott lasted about two weeks at the shelter, he said, during which time he was twice expelled for multiple infractions such as having a broken piece of drug paraphernalia under his bed and not adequately cleaning up a common space.

He left and joined a growing group living outside Sunnyside Environmental School, many of them former residents of the Laurelhurst encampment seven blocks away.

Portland Mayor Ted Wheeler opposes such camps and has intensified the city’s efforts to break them up following a sudden pivot he made four months ago. Homeless sweep at Laurelhurst Park

Portland mayor says homeless camp sweeps are a ‘humane response,’ key to his strategy

In September, as polls suggested his reelection bid was on shaky ground, Wheeler announced a re-write of his homelessness priorities and threatened to pull money from the years-long joint effort with Multnomah County to get homeless or near-homeless residents into permanent affordable housing, sometimes with wrap-around mental health care or other social services.

His new mandate: Create far more beds in temporary shelters — and fast — to get people camping outdoors under roofs and behind walls. Members of the public want “a humane solution to the folks camped outside on our streets. And I agree with them,” he said.

But for Scott, his stay at Mt. Scott, one of the city’s newly opened indoor sleeping options, didn’t feel humane. He is better off in the Sunnyside homeless camp, he said.

Sure, Scott would love an apartment of his own. But during his 10 years on the street, he said, no one has shown him a pathway to that. Camping, he said, is his best option.

And he’s not alone. City outreach workers told the four dozen or so campers hunkered down at Sunnyside this week to pack up and leave and offered them spots in a shelter.

Most say they’re heading back to Laurelhurst instead.

“I’ve been like a rat on a wheel this whole time,” Scott said.

‘WE NEED A FEMA-LIKE RESPONSE’

That reality complicates Wheeler’s drive to dramatically reduce street homelessness. He has touted the shelter-and-sweep at Laurelhurst as a model he aims to replicate across the city.

But many experiencing homelessness and their advocates believe the mayor is just trying to sweep them out of view with a shallow solution. And the numbers show it’s not working.

Only 26, or about a quarter, of the Laurelhurst campers set foot in a shelter after they were cleared from the park, figures from the Joint Office of Homeless Services show. Just one-fifth of those at Sunnyside expressed interest in going to one, according to city officials.

Wheeler acknowledged in a recent interview with The Oregonian/OregonLive that his and the county’s focus for years has been about the “long-term strategies of getting people into housing.”

But he said the conspicuous prevalence of those braving the elements nightly, and the livability issues they engender, prompted his change in tactic.

“We need a FEMA-like response to the emergency on the streets right now,” he said. “We need to get as many people off the sidewalks as quickly and as humanely as possible.”

That forceful, urgent demand is not brand new for the mayor. Old Town Chinatown in the time of coronavirus pandemic

Portland mayor threatens to pull city from county-partnered homeless efforts; county chair calls it ‘outrageous’

Wheeler launched his first City Hall run in 2015 with a pledge to provide a safe place to sleep for every person living on Portland’s streets by his second year in office, calling the task a “moral imperative.”

But as mayor, he walked back that promise, acknowledging the homelessness crisis had more complex causes than simply a lack of indoor cots to sleep on – ones that needed more expensive, harder-to-build solutions including subsidized housing, vastly expanded mental health and addiction services and ongoing case management for those toughest to house.

Meanwhile, Portland’s homeless population grew under his watch.

According to the most recent one-night tally from February 2019, 2,037 people slept outside in Multnomah County ��� more than a 20% increase from two years prior.

An additional 1,459 were sleeping in emergency shelters.

During his tough reelection battle last fall, as business leaders and some neighborhood groups who supported his campaign grew increasingly vocal about the sight of more people inhabiting sidewalks, parks and public right of ways, Wheeler renewed his focus on sweeping campers off the street.

“That’s where we need to put our resources, that’s where the problem is, and overwhelmingly, this is what we’re hearing from the public that they want us to address,” Wheeler told The Oregonian/OregonLive at the time.

The Joint Office of Homeless Services proceeded to open several new shelter spaces by the end of the year, including in the Mt. Scott and Charles Jordan community centers as well as the former Greyhound bus station downtown.

Other spaces designed to temporarily house the homeless, such as a tiny-home village in St. Johns and a former Rite Aid pharmacy in the Arbor Lodge neighborhood, will open later this year.

STREET ENCAMPMENTS REMAIN

City and county officials are currently operating 1,330 24-hour, year-round emergency shelter beds for adults, families, youths and domestic violence survivors, with an additional 275 beds for the winter, said Denis Theriault, a spokesman for the homeless services office.

The sites include a mix of traditional congregant shelters, outdoor villages and city-run campsites outfitted with weatherized pods that contain beds, heat and electricity.

Street encampments, however, remain an enduring fiber in the fabric of the city. They dot downtown blocks, crop up beneath bridges and run along parks and transit thoroughfares.

Portland residents in the last week reported 240 active campsites citywide, according to figures provided by the city’s Homelessness and Urban Camping Impact Reduction Program. Homelessness in Lents

Multnomah County sees 20% more people sleeping outside in latest homeless count

A recent count by city staff found 44 encampments with eight or more tents and other makeshift dwellings — making them eligible for removal under city rules — and 25 had eight or more vehicles with people living inside them, said Heather Hafer, a spokeswoman for the program.

Among those large encampments was the one at Sunnyside, which swelled to about 50 people. Amid reports of open drug use, nearby housed people’s complaints and what the city judged to be inadequate hygiene and social distancing, the city began clearing it out this week.

Hafer said outreach workers had referred eight campers to shelters or the Hooper Detoxification Stabilization Center. City and county officials could not say how many ultimately showed up at one.

‘A FAILED POLICY’

Scott Rupp, 58, who had relocated to Sunnyside after being displaced from Laurelhurst, said he declined multiple offers to stay in a shelter because he was told that staff could not guarantee they’d be able assist him with his mental health disorders or help him find permanent housing.

Rupp, a Portland native, said he’s been homeless since 1994 and that his wife of more than three decades died while they were living on the streets together in 2019.

But he added that the lack of privacy, the sometimes stringent rules and the limits on personal possessions at most shelters always made them a poor fit for him.

“You have to live out of a plastic bag,” he said. “That’s not the way I want to live.”

Instead, Rupp said, he planned to join some of the other people who had already returned to Laurelhurst Park.

“To me, this feels like a slow-motion movie of a failed policy,” said John Mayer, the director of Beacon PDX, a homeless service organization that’s worked closely with those camped at Sunnyside and Laurelhurst. “We were doing this exact same thing six weeks ago.” Portland Mayor Ted Wheeler’s urgent mandate to get homeless campers to ‘humane’ indoor shelters isn’t working

Scott Rupp, 58, relocated to a homeless encampment outside Sunnyside Environmental School in Southeast Portland after being displaced from nearby Laurelhurst Park.

“To live with the idea that your one modicum of stability is always under threat is such a drain on the psyche,” Mayer said. “Without stability, we’re never going to see progress on an individual level.”

Portland business officials aren’t uniformly fans of the way Wheeler’s change in tactics is playing out.

Pamela Pelett, the owner of City Liquidators in Portland’s Central Eastside, said she knows most of the people living in tents outside her Southeast Third Avenue furniture store by name and offers them food and other help when she can.

But the unsanitary conditions of the camps, coupled with fights and other troubling behavior, has strained business and left some of her employees concerned for their personal safety, she said.

“There’s a real health issue going on,” Pelett said. “I’d like to see the city find a reasonable solution that actually works, but I’m not hopeful. There are folks who don’t want to be anywhere but on the street.”

‘I’M GOING TO DIE OUT HERE’

Meanwhile, the city of Portland plans to continue pushing for more alternatives. The mayor and commissioners will decide this spring whether to make permanent changes to municipal codes and regulations to allow large indoor and outdoor shelters in all parts of the city.

City and county officials also plan to seek formal proposals soon from community organizations and the public for several alternative shelter and safe parking pilot programs, Theriault said.

But even with eased zoning restrictions and a willingness to rethink shelter spaces, finding places suitable to house people remains difficult and time-consuming, he said.

They can also come with a steep price tag. Portland’s three emergency outdoor shelters, which provide just 100 beds, currently cost about $175,000 a month for staffing, utilities and food for residents, city and county officials said.

The city spent about another $1 million to build 19 tiny homes and a large communal space at the site of soon-to-open St. Johns Village. Portland's new homeless navigation team

Metro homeless services tax measure passes: Oregon election results

“We need to have an honest conversation with our community about what role shelters should play and whether shelters are appropriate solutions for everyone currently unhoused,” said Andy Miller, the executive director for Human Solutions, a non-profit that develops affordable housing and provides emergency shelter and assistance to homeless families. “It is an expensive intervention and not a good fit for everyone – especially shelters with a lot of rules and little privacy.”

Part of the challenge, Miller said, has arisen from larger systemic failures and federal disinvestment that increased how long people have to stay in shelters. The affordable housing crunch and lack of money available for rent assistance have made transitioning to permanent housing a more elusive option.

“I think there’s a mistaken narrative that if we build enough shelter beds, we can get everyone off the sidewalk and no one will have to experience the negative impacts of urban camping but that is just not accurate,” he said. “Further, doing so would lock up resources that are desperately needed to move people already in shelter out of shelter into permanent housing.

“Are you going to spend the next million to add shelter beds? Or spend it to get people in existing shelter beds into a real home?”

Advocates, as well as city and county officials, do see an historic opportunity to get more people off the streets and into permanent housing in the next few years.

In May, Portland-area residents approved a new tax to fund homeless services that is expected to raise $250 million a year for Multnomah, Washington and Clackamas counties.

Much of the funding, which will start to become available this summer, must be dedicated to support those who are deemed chronically homeless.

Rupp said he hopes that the help he needs to become housed comes soon.

“Otherwise, I’m going to die out here in the streets, just like my wife,” he said.

-- Shane Dixon Kavanaugh

[emma-nation]

Unfinished Business - F!Sam x MC Fanfiction

Summary: When Sam Dalton is caught in a scandal, Anna Schuyler is the only one who can help her. But will her former nanny be able to leave the past behind?

"Samantha Dalton was like one of good dreams you don't want to wake up from. You close your eyes, you force your brain to remember every minor detail, you begin to imagine what comes next... hoping to be in control. You want to fall asleep again. You want it to continue, but it's too late now. You're wide awake."

Genre: Angst, Romance

Notes: Hell yeah, three ongoing multichapter fics. I'm so screwed 😎

Tag List: If you wish to be tagged in future chapters and fics of this pairing, let me know.

"I can't do this anymore, Sam," Anna did the best to avoid her eyes. With the right look, they could melt the ice that had formed around her heart for the last few weeks. One look could make things warm again, but only for some time. Time enough for her to open up and fall in love once more, immediately followed by the realization all of that was nothing more than an illusion. She'd be fooling herself again.

This time she just had enough. It was the end.

"Anna, I'm sorry," the CEO didn't know very well what to say. Despite her usual calm voice tone, Anna could sense the nervousness in her words. "But Sofia is my wife."

"And I'm only the nanny."

"This is not what I meant. We just... we allowed ourselves to get too carried away. It was good while it lasted but now, we must face reality."

It was just a dream. Samantha Dalton was like one of good dreams you don't want to wake up from. You close your eyes, you force your brain to remember every minor detail, you begin to imagine what comes next... hoping to be in control. You want to fall asleep again. You want it to continue, but it's too late now. You're wide awake.

----------

Anna collected her stuff from the desk, giving one last emotional glance to the classroom in front of her. Before leaving for Summer, her fourth grade students had prepared her a small surprise. A little party with cake, snacks and a "Thank You, Ms. Schuyler" sign hanging in the back of the room. They also drew her some cards, which she saved for when she got home. It could become very emotional for her workplace.

"Anna," the principal appeared at the door, catching her attention, "I came here to congratulate you. It was your first year as a Science teacher in our school and you captivated all the kids, as well as their parents."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Rockwell," Anna smiled. "I love working with children and now I see I made the right decision taking this job. This year was the most rewarding experience of my life."

"So we can expect you to return next year? I'm sorry, the parents keep me asking this question all the time."

"Absolutely!"

"They'll be glad to hear that. Have a nice Summer, Ms. Schuyler."

After living in New York for the last two years, Anna was finally ready to drive to her mother's home in Rhode Island. They both had saved enough money for a road trip across the country. Her mom deserved to live that dream after caring for her ill step-dad for some long months, until his recovery.

When she arrived at her apartment, her best friend, Jenny, was still at work. What meant she'd have enough time to finish packing without having to stop to hear the latest gossip about the company she worked for, or unsolicited dating advice.

"But first," Anna pulled the small pile of cards from inside her purse, "let me cry my eyeballs out."

And she did. She learned how to love and connect to each one of her students. Those cards need to be kept in a special place, where she'd always be able to read them and remember the sweet moments she shared with those children.

Grabbing a box in her closet, Anna accidentally came across a picture of the Dalton twins. She didn't even remember where she had placed it, when she was getting rid of everything related to that family. All she wanted was to keep those boys' memory out of sight. She missed them too much for words. They were the reason why she accepted that job as a teacher in first place.

"I wonder how different they must look now," she thought. "They're already nine."

With a tightness in her chest, Anna placed the picture back in its secret spot.

"I still can't believe you're really going!" Later that evening, Jenny complained in the living room, where she divided her attention between painting her nails and watch TV.

"Well, it's time for you to come with terms with that. I'm only returning by the end of Summer," Anna responded from the kitchen, while she finished washing the dishes.

"Anna, we could have the Summer of our lives. Think about all the hot men and women you could meet, all the parties we could attend..."

"I promised my mom, okay? We've been planning this trip since I finished college."

Jenny was suddenly teleported back to her side, wrapping her arms around her like a clingy teddy bear.

"But I'm gonna miss you," she spoke with a mournful voice.

"I'll miss you too," Anna assured her. "I'll keep you updated on every detail. Don't worry."

"I know your mom is going with you but... Anna, it's time for you to find someone. Even if it's only a one night stand."

"This is not the main purpose of this trip. This isn't about my sex life, I want my mom to relax."

"It has been two years, for god's sake."

"I know. And I'm glad I've set my priorities straight, I live with my best friend in a nice apartment, I got this amazing job and I love my students. I don't need anyone else in my life to be happy. I am happy."

Jenny rolled her eyes, crawling back to the couch. She should know it was useless to bring up this subject. Anna's heart was indefinitely closed for balance. If that was one thing she learned from her last experience was that shouldn't open up so easily.

"Shut the hell up!"

Jenny yelling so loud in the living room, made Anna almost drop the plate she was holding.

"You need to come here right now and watch this," she added.

"I'm sorry, Jenny. You're not getting me into that steamy TV show you're always obsessing about."

"It's a really good TV show, okay? But it doesn't matter at the moment. You need to watch the latest news!"

Jenny was actually watching the news. Nothing good could've happened to spark that sudden interest. That had to be something stupid or celebrity gossip. Against her best judgment, Anna approached the TV.

"If that's something silly, I'll kill you for interrupting my tasks!" Anna's mouth suddenly dropped when she read the headline on her screen. "Oh."

"Dalton Enterprises Scandal: CEO Sam Dalton accused of insider trading."

Images of police officers closing the company and carrying out boxes and computers for further investigation appeared on the screen. As well as Sam being conducted to the officer's car while journalists and photographers chased after her.

"Karma's a bitch, huh?! Mrs. Perfect is going down!"

Anna didn't answer to her best friend. She was still trying to process what her eyes were watching. Her heart seemed to stop for a second as the camera focused on Sam's face. In just a few seconds, her eyes had the desperate need to capture every detail. She wanted to know if she looked any different, if she had changed her hair or even her clothes. She wanted to know if some make-up was trying to hide the bags under her eyes for lack of sleep, or if she had been so happy with her marriage she was appearing even younger. Any minor signs that would make her mind create a possible scenario of what Sam's life could be right now.

She hadn't seen or heard of Samantha since quitting her nanny job. Though it was difficult, she managed to avoid any news related to the Dalton Enterprises CEO. They didn't part in good terms, yet one thing she was sure about, Sam was a decent person. She would never get involved in such a scandal. She had a reputation to keep.

"I... I don't know what to say," Anna was finally able to mumble some words. "Honestly I don't think she'd do that. There must be a misunderstanding."

"Anna! Are you seriously defending her?! After everything she's done to you?"

"No. I just..." Two years had passed since the wedding. Anna realized a lot could've changed. Sam could've changed. She had changed. "Maybe you're right."

As she lied in bed, millions of thoughts started running through her mind. What would be of the boys? Who would have their custody in case Sam went to jail, her parents or Sofia? Could Sofia or Robin have any involvement in that scandal?

Anna didn't get any sleep that night. When she woke up in the morning she was still exhausted.

The apartment was silent and peaceful. Jenny had already left to work. She was alone. No one would witness or even judge her next action. After preparing herself some coffee she sat down and started to research more about the insider trading scandal.

"I'm not interested, only curious," she mentally assured herself as thousands of articles started showing on her laptop screen.

Not only Sam was being accused to cheat on Sofia with another woman, but she tried to cover up the affair by giving her mistress a check to purchase Dalton Enterprises stocks. The launch of a new and revolutionary product in the coming weeks would surely grant her some cash. In the following days of the launch, the woman and her husband made millions of dollars.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Sam?"

The trials were scheduled for the next few weeks, and in case of conviction, the CEO could spend over 20 years in prison.

Only a couple of days later, Anna was in the garage placing all her luggage inside the trunk. She had to leave immediately, for her own sanity. The scandal was a great reason to stay away from New York City. The television wouldn't stop talking about that subject, or show the face of the woman she once loved.

"Dammit," entering the car, Anna noticed she had forgotten her cell phone upstairs. The latest events had impacted her more than they should. She was constantly distracted and anxious, secretly following the last developments of the case.

She picked up her phone, returned to the car and turned on the radio. Playing some loud music always helped her to relax. The crowded streets and the buildings slowly started to stay behind as the road approached.

"And I'm here, to remind you of the mess you left..."

Anna sang aloud, completely involved by the song. And then, her eyes almost missed it. Through the rearview mirror she saw a blur moving on the back seat.

"What the..." she needed to remain calm and act cautiously. The roads were impressively calm and deserted, a perfect scenario for murder, like in every horror movie. She slowly slipped her hand into her purse, grabbing the pepper spray. "I'm not one of those chicks who die so easily."

In one sudden fast move, she stomped on the breaks and turned around, spraying whoever was hiding behind her seat.

"Anna!" She was able to take a better look. The figure was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. "Stop, please!"

She was able to recognize that voice even among millions of people. The years hadn't erased it from her memories.

"S-Sam..." Anna pulled the disguise, confirming her suspicions, "what are doing here? In my back seat?"

"I can explain."

"You better."

She returned to the driver's seat, attempting to relax. Samantha Dalton was inside her car, for some very screwed up reason.

"I know it's strange," and now she had moved to the passenger seat, being at a short distance from her. Close enough to notice how her presence was making her nervous. Close enough to notice she wasn't breathing. Close enough to see her hands shaking. "But I needed you to hear me."

"You could've called, Samantha. Or even showed up at my door! You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"You wouldn't answer. Would you?"

And that was it. One look and all the walls melted away. Her heart started beating faster, reminding her of the moments they shared two years before.

"No," Anna answered, fighting those feelings. "I wouldn't."

"I need your help, Anna," Sam touched her arm briefly, but enough to know she'd cause impact. "I'm in serious trouble and you're the only one that can help me."

[yamithediaperdork]

Cry baby and Pee pants, part 1 (Digimon)

Matt cussed loud and long as he searched though his locker and the dressing room for the 5th time. The young blond had been trying out for a band, hoping to launch his music carer after more or less calling it quits as a digi destined, after barely keeping Tokyo from being blown up by a rouge digimon. This was actually his 6th audition, his young age and well, not exactly stellar skills on the guitar meant that he was told thanks for trying out, but he wasn't right for any of the bands till now. The leaping lizards had gushed over the raw talent being there, and had welcomed him on board, even pouring him a couple drinks of sake despite him being underage to celebrate. The last thing Matt recalled before waking up five hours later was them laughing at how stupid he was and.. Giving up the search, he had to finally admit the truth. they hadn't ever been serious about their offer to join the band and had just wanted to steal his guitar, a newer model and worth at least 300 bucks even being pawned. 'I suppose I should feel lucky I woke up with both kidneys.' Matt thought to himself. 'But how the fuck am I suppose to try out for the lone wolfs in two days with no instrument?' There was NO way he'd be able to get his parents to get him anther guitar, he'd had to basically break out the water works and plead on his knees for a month to get the last one. His antics had earned him the nick name of cry baby around both his dad's house and his mom's, and TK still wasn't letting it go and would ask if baby wanted his ba-ba. That left asking the others for a few loans, and most of them weren't too pleased he'd given up the hero game for fortune. Joe was blowing all his money on his studies anyways, Izzy on computer junk.. Sora and Mimi had been giving him the cold shoulder and he knew neither Kari nor TK would have the cash. '...I wonder if Tai's still hella gay?' Matt though, a Cheshire grin coming across his face. the always needy boy kisser had been good for getting a few video games before and junk, it was like 20 minutes of gay stuff like smooching and cuddling and then a little shopping spree AND Tai had just come into a fat wad of cash after a uncle that adored him had left him a big hefty inheritance. 'I can gay out for like, a hour for this.' Matt thought and getting his bag (and of course finding his wallet dry) he headed towards home, thinking about getting a even better guitar then before.

Tai was shocked when Matt called him the next morning, asking if he could meet up. After Matt had ditched the team only Tai and TK made any real efforts to hang with him, and TK only because they were brothers. In truth Izzy was giving Tai a hard time about it, but since Izzy was being a little bitch about a lot of things lately Tai just ignored his on and off again boyfriend. 'I mean, I was willing to get him that new computer he wanted and he couldn't rock a pamper butt for me? RUDE!' Tai thought and huffed. It was Tai's new fetish, and one he'd discovered by mistake when googling more on that Willis kid and finding out the little cutie had a website set up to show him modeling in diapers. Naturally seeing that Tai had begged and pleaded with Izzy to try out diapers but apparently Izzy had been a late bloomer and had only recently gotten out of daytime diapers before their whole adventure started. Naturally this had only made Tai wanna diaper him more, but again, Izzy was being a little pecker head about it. (at least from Tai's point of view.) 'heh. if Matt is expecting a little shopping spree today..he's in for a surprise. the boy is gonna earn it.' Tai thought, and went and checked on the supplies he kept under his bed on the off chance he lucked into a diaper boy. there they were, 2 packs of the diaper brand Willis recommended on his site, nice and thick, and a few onesies along with a changing pad and pacifiers and a baby bottle. 'Oh yeah..come onnn Matt..be desperate for money~'

Matt made sure to wear a nice tight sleeveless top and a pair of tight jeans (So tight he'd needed TK's help getting into them.) and made sure to spike his hair just the way that Tai liked it. TK wasn't dumb though, and knew what Matt was doing. "Looking good for your sugar daddy Cry baby." He teased and winked. "Your lucky Tai's expecting me, or I'd give you the noogie to end all noogies." Matt said, raising a eyebrow. it was just the two of them at their mothers apartment at the moment and TK used to know better then to push his luck when it was just them. "Mmhhhhmm.. your dadddy calls and cry baby Matt comes running. maybe HE'S gonna give ya yer ba-ba~" TK giggled. the giggles died off as TK saw the look on Matt's face, and when their mom would get back she'd find TK hanging by his undies from a nail on the wall. "...pushed cry baby too far again huh?" she asked, smirking and taking off her jacket. "Y-Yeah..uh..a little help?"TK squeaked. "Righttt after I put the groceries away.. think of this as time to reflect on watching your mouth." mom said and walked away. "B-But my undies are so far up my crack i can taste themmm!" TK whined. "then I don't need to worry about lunch." came the reply. "...Funny fucker aren't you." TK huffed under his breath, crossing his arms. "I hear that!"

Making his way to Tai's Matt got more then a few looks from both guys and girls, and likewise, a few wolf whistles. He ignored them for the most part, but had a smirk on his face knowing just how sexy he looked and soon was knocking on Tai's door. Tai gave him a once over as he opened the door and Matt smirked, he was almost drooling. "So, Like what you see?" Matt asked, and flexed a arm. "heh, Oh yeah. so gonna stand out there and look hot, or come inside and tell me what you want?" Tai asked, standing aside and gesturing into the apartment. "Don' worry, Kari had a school thing out of town and mom and dad are with her.I have you allll to myself." Tai added, slapping Matt's ass as he walked past, making Matt yelp and blush. Still, Matt knew what was expected of him for the most part and just flashed Tai a grin and blew a kiss. 'fucking bastard! he knows i hate spanking stuff!' Matt fumed. Matt went to sit down on the couch by Tai had closed the door and taken a seat in a arm chair, then patted his lap. '..He's totally getting me the latest guitar if he keeps this shit up.' Matt fumed, but walked over and sat on Tai's lap,putting his arms around the bigger boy. Matt might of been taller, but with all the sports that Tai played he had a bulked up look and was pound for pound much stronger. "So, You normally only get THIS dressed up if you want something, so what's my little Mattie need?" Tai asked, cradling Matt in a way that Matt recognized as using back when TK was toddler. "I..I uh..I have a band audition coming up..but some jerk's stole my guitar..and um.." Matt swallowed and then batted his eyes at Tai. "I was wondering, hoping if maybe you'd get me a new one.I've been practicing my kissing and we can cuddle and stuff for like, 2 hours even!" "heh. Well that IS a tempting offer. doubly so when your cute ass is in my lap. but I have a boyfriend if I just wanted to make out with a cutie. and Izzy is willing to go all the way." Tai chuckled. "O-Oh..but..I uh..I'm not..you...know..I'm.." Matt stammered. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you suck dick or take it up the poop chute. and I WILL get you whatever kinda guitar you want for your silly little audition which by the way is when?" Tai asked, kissing Matt's forehead and making alarm bells go off in the blond mind. "I-It's tomorrow at 3 pm sharp. And..what do you want then?" Matt asked, a nervous twitch to his voice. "Oh nothing too much. something really easy actually." Tai said and smiled. 'Bullshit' Matt thought but kept the smile on his face. "and that is?..." "For every say.. 20 dollars I spend on your little guitar I get one hour with you being my darling little diaper boy." "..What?!"

Tai smirked as he got ready to put Matt back into padding. the blond was looking huffy as fuck, but was keeping his mouth shut all the same, likely trying not to blow his semi good deal. Tai of course fully understood WHY Matt wouldn't be happy with the deal, but couldn't help but tease the impending little uy a little bit. "Awww come on widdle Mattie, can't you give daddy a smile? Your making daddy think you don't wanna do our widdle deal." He he teased, reaching over and tickling mat''s chin while the blond sat cross legged next to him. "...Your a sick man, you know that?" Matt asked, but he was grinning all the same, though whether it was from the chin tickles or humoring him Tai couldn't be sure. "Flattery will get you everywhere." Tai said with a wink, and as he finished getting the changing pad (with a adorable teddy bear print) set up and the changing supplies ready, he looked over Matt's jeans as he tugged out 3 of the thick puffy diapers. "So, are gonna be able to get out of those by yourself? they almost look spray painted on." Tai asked. "I can totally undress myself!" Matt huffed and stood up, unbuttoning the jeans and sliding his thumbs into the belt loops and tugging. And tugging some more. and then more tugging as they didn't budge. "You were saying?" Tai asked, in a clearly delighted tone. "..Shut up and help me get these things off." Matt huffed.

Matt was crimson after they FINALLY got his jeans off, partly due to the fact it had taken 10 minutes of effort, and well, needing Tai's help to undress. Not helping matters was the fact that Matt had chosen to go commando and well, liked to keep it shaved down there. "Awww somebody was a good boy and knew what was coming and saved daddy some time!" Tai teased. 'oh shut the fuck up!' Matt thought. "Yeah, let's go with that." was his sulky reply. Tai had oddly grabbed a razor blade all the same and cut silts in the back and front of two of the three massive diapers he was planing on putting on Matt, making the blond give his impending 'daddy' a weird look. "It's so when you go tinkle, the wetness is shared and you can go longer in your diapies. Same for when you go boom boom." Tai said cheerfully. THAT had caused the blush to leave Matt's face, at least for a little bit as he paled. "W-Wait.. you mean..you want me to.. uh.. go.." Matt stammered, and the blush returned as he struggled to say the words, then hissed and blew a raspberry. "in my diapers!?!" "..Ok that was hella cute. and Yup, I'm even gonna be nice and let you use them all on your own for today, though if I don't like the results I'm seeing I'll be sure to get you some potty med's to help." Tai said and winked, then patting the changing mat. "come on Little guy, let's get your diapies on and then you can sit in daddies lap while we order you a guitar so you can make music for daddy." "But..I thought we were going and getting one today!" Matt whined. "Oh, does somebody wanna go out shopping in his diapers? So bold!" Tai teased. "NO! I just..uh.." mental images of Matt waddling around in the big bulky diapers, holding Tai's hand and sucking his thumb flooded his mind and he started to squirm lots even as he laid down on the changing pad. "Don't worry. I'll pay for rush delivery. if we get it in town it'll be here by this afternoon. Maybe I'll let my little exhibitionist answer the door." Tai teased, and grabbed the first diaper. '...I could really go for anther glass of sake right now.' Matt thought and lifted up his butt like a good boy.

Back at the apartment TK was having pain fueled day dreams of all the times his undies hadn't of been lodged up his crack and wished his mom would hurry up and come and get him down. Not helping the whole situation was the fact that he had a growing bladder issue and any attempt's to shift around and relive the pressure there only made the undies ride up more. His mom had gone from putting things away to excuse herself to the bathroom, an like she was the worlds greatest comedian she'd told him not to move, and to hang in there. TK had wisely kept his opinions of her humor to himself as he had a sneaking suspicion that his earlier comments had helped extend his wedgie time. Still as the need to tinkle grew more and more TK couldn't keep quiet. "MOMMY! I hafa go pee! if you don't wanna clean up a puddle you needa get me down NOW!" He called. the bathroom door opened and Nancy walked out, smirking. "Why didn't you say something sooner wedgie boy?" she asked, taping a finger on his nose. "...You were just waiting in there!?!" TK shouted and huffed, crossing his arms and glaring. Sadly as his attention was focused on his mom and being mad at her, it was diverted from where it needed to be. "Well you were being a little brat an-" She started, then looked down as a hissing noise was heard and looked at the growing wet patch on the front of TK's undies, and the puddle that was starting to form on the floor. "Really?" "T-This is your fault!" TK huffed even as she grabbed him under the arms and lifted him down, though holding him away from her so she didn't get any pee on her. The flow was weakling and stopping as she got him on his feet, turning him so he could add to the puddle while not standing in it since he was in socks. (not that they weren't already wet) "Mhmm.. Well go and finish in the bathroom and clean up." She said, rolling her eyes then noticed a super guilty look on TK's face. "The..flow DID stop because you got it under control right?" She asked, a smirk tugging on her face. "Er..well..see.." TK said, rubbing the back of his head and chuckling nervously. "Go grab a shower pee pants, and meet mommy in your room. you know the rule for pant's wetters in this house." She said and turned away to go and get the mop and bucket as TK whined. "MOOOM! NOT THE PULL UPS!"

Back at Tai's and Matt was powdered and tapped in his triple thick white diapers, and squirming like crazy as he looked at himself in the mirror. Tai had tugged off his shirt so at the moment Matt was JUST in his white socks and white diapers, and he couldn't even close his legs! and as bad as it looked from the front, once he turned around and looked over his shoulder it was WAY worse in the back! He hadn't of even been able to get to his feet without Tai's help (well, he was gonna use Tai's bed to pull himself up but Tai had insisted daddy was here to help) and to say he was waddling was a massive understatement. "So what do you think little guy?" Tai asked, coming up behind him and making Matt look front ward in the mirror again, kissing Matt's cheek as he patted Matt's fat diapered bottom. "...I feel like I'm gonna knock lamps off of end tables, and there should be a beeping noise when i back up!" Matt whined. "heh, cute idea. I'll see what i can rig up for your next diaper day with daddy." Tai chuckled and kissed Matt's cheek. 'I need to stop giving him ideas.' Matt mentally groaned. "Can I at least put my shirt back on or something? or you have some shorts I can put over these? I wanna try and cover the diapers up!" Matt whined. "oh, You're just in luck little guy! Daddy DOES have something to go over your adorable huggies." Tai said. The old familiar warning bells were going off in Matt's head as Tai went and reached under the bed, and pulled out two onesie's, or as Matt called them, diaper shirts. One was light blue with a yellow trim on the sleeves, neck and leg hole, and had a yellow star on the front, that had a smiling face and said 'daddies little star' under it in yellow text. the second one was a white one with a dinosaur print all over it, and Matt fought the urge to facepalm. 'I really need to start watching my goddamn mouth.' he thought. "So buddy, what do you thin? wanna be my widdle star, or a dino boy?" Tai asked. "Gee, they're BOTH so tempting." Matt said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. If Tai noticed though he didn't show it and just nodded instead. "You're right, I'll pick for you." '...REALLY need to just keep my effing mouth shut!'

In the end Tai went with the little star onesie, though he'd over estimated just how thick he could go and still use them as it was a bit of a fight to get the crotch snaps to close. "I think after we get you your little guitar, we'll go shopping and get more cute outfits for my widdle musician." Tai said. He could tell Matt was less then pleased, but the boy forced a smile on his face and nodded. "whatever you want ta-" he started to say. "ah ah ah, when your butt is in diapers, it's DADDY. Got it?" Tai said, wagging a finger and smirking. "..Yeah OK." Matt replied, rolling his eyes. "yeah OK what?" Tai questioned, the grin getting bigger. "...Yeah OK daddy." Matt said, smiling but clenching his teeth. Tugging Matt over/ helping the padded cutie keep his balance, Tai sat down in his big comfy computer chair and tugged Matt into his lap, giving the big baby's neck a kiss. "Now did you have a certain store in mind, or just want me to google and shop around?" Tai asked.

[ofstormsandwolves]

Five times Joan accidentally got a dog and one time she didn’t

Zoey x Joan

All ages

Fluff, humour, a little bit of emotional hurt/comfort

Zoey, Joan, Mo, several dogs Joan has no right owning...

Joan keeps accidentally acquiring new dogs. Until one time, she doesn't. Zoey doesn't know what to say.

Read on AO3

The first time: Burberry

“Sorry I’m late,” Joan said, sliding onto the bar stood opposite Zoey’s. “Work was chaos.”

“No problem,” Zoey responded with a smile, sliding a drink across the table towards her partner.

Seeing the drink, Joan’s eyes lit up. “You’re a life saver.” She put her bag on the table and reached eagerly for the drink.

When they’d arranged to meet for a mini-date after work at a nearby bar, this one sans karaoke, neither of them had anticipated Joan’s meeting with the board members running quite so late. Still, she was here now, and Zoey wasn’t going to let anything else ruin her night.

That was, of course, until Joan’s purse moved of its own accord.

“Uh, Joan, did your bag just move?”

Joan, who was busy sipping her cocktail, frowned before looking to her bag. “Oh. Yeah. That’s Burberry.”

Zoey squinted at the bag. “It says it’s Louis Vuitton,” she said, pointing towards the lettering all over the purse.

Joan rolled her eyes, smiling at her partner’s lack of awareness. “Yes, the bag’s Louis Vuitton,” she said, reaching for the purse. “It’s Burberry making it move.”

She opened the bag then, and the tiny head of a white miniature Poodle popped out, looking a little surprised by its surroundings.

“I thought she was arriving tomorrow,” Joan continued conversationally, as though she hadn’t just revealed that she had a puppy in her purse in a bar. “But my dog person screwed up and dropped her off today instead.”

Not quite knowing what to say, Zoey stared at the dog for several long seconds. Finally finding her voice, she tore her gaze away from the puppy to look to the brunette opposite her. “Cute dog.”

“She is,” Joan said happily. “You know, I’ve usually only had big dogs. They’re much better at scaring away paparazzi and stuff. But Burberry seems quite nice.” She frowned then. “I just hope Tomford and Hermés get on with her.”

“So, uh, you didn’t mention you were getting another dog,” Zoey said slowly, still a little baffled by what was happening.

“Oh yeah, well, I didn’t know. Not until lunchtime, anyway.” Joan frowned. “I think I may have subscribed to something?” She waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever.”

“You think you subscribed to something?” Zoey echoed. “What, like a dog-buying service? Do those even exist?”

The older woman fixed her with a look. “Zoey, if people want it, it exists. I’m sure there are dog-buying subscriptions. I mean, I pay my dog person to buy me dogs. That’s their job. Maybe I signed some subscription agreement when I signed the contract.” She shrugged, and took a sip of her cocktail. “I’ll have my lawyer look into it.”

Burberry, still in the bag, was starting to whine a little then, and she was attracting attention from other patrons.

“I’m not sure we should have a dog in here, Joan,” Zoey said then, noting some of the looks they were getting. “I mean, they serve food.”

“But I promised you a date night,” Joan responded with a frown.

“We never said the date night had to be out of the house,” Zoey offered, realising her partner felt bad about them leaving so soon. “We can go to my place, or your place, and watch a movie or something.”

“And you’re alright with that?” the other woman questioned.

Already slipping off her chair, Zoey smiled. “I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. Come on.”

Taking Joan’s hand, she tugged her from her seat. Joan grabbed her purse and followed the redhead towards the door.

The second time: Gucci

Joan hurrying into a meeting barely a minute before they were about to start was odd. She was a woman who hated people who weren’t punctual, particularly when it came to work. That hadn’t changed since taking over as temporary CEO of SPRQ Point, and Zoey couldn’t help but survey her partner with concern.

Of course, there was no way she could raise her concern in the middle of a business meeting, so she bit her tongue and turned her attention to her tablet while Joan hurried to get herself ready. It wasn’t until something was practically shoved under her nose that the redhead blinked up at her partner.

“Hold him, will you,” Joan said, sounding distracted.

On autopilot, Zoey accepted the small grey French bulldog and settled the puppy in her lap without question. A few people around the table frowned, but nobody dare ask questions as Joan began talking about the latest SPRQ Point device they were launching.

In all honesty, the puppy was pretty well behaved. Zoey suspected it was a little stunned, possibly too stunned to react to what was happening around it. The puppy sniffed her tablet, and her, and squirmed a little, but seemed alright with being sat on her lap for the forty-minute presentation. Occasionally, some of the other coders, team leaders, and managers around the table would shoot Zoey and the puppy a confused look, but they all seemed to know better than to say anything.

When the meeting was finally over, and people vacated the conference room, Zoey let out a sigh of relief.

“Care to tell me where this little guy came from?” Zoey asked Joan pointedly as the older woman put away her notes and tablet.

Joan glanced up in the middle of sorting through her things, before returning her attention to her bag. “Well, it turns out that subscription service doesn’t run out until the end of the month.”

Zoey blinked. “Uh... What?”

That earned her a look. “The subscription service, for the dogs. You know; the one we cancelled after I got Burberry last month?”

Considering the puppy had crashed their date night, Zoey wasn’t likely to forget, so instead she nodded. “But we cancelled it before the end of last month. So what’s with this little dude?” She held up the dog to emphasise her point. The dog yawned.

“Ugh, apparently they take the subscription money in the middle of the month, not the end. So by the time we’d cancelled, I’d already paid for this month. Hence,” she pointed towards the bulldog, “Gucci.”

Gucci yawned again, and curled up in Zoey’s lap. “Well,” the redhead sighed, “he is cute...”

“Exactly,” Joan said definitively. “Now come on, I’m treating you to lunch.”

Then she swept Gucci up from Zoey’s lap and disappeared out the conference room door.

The third time: Prada

“You know,” Zoey said with a poorly-hidden smirk, “when you texted to suggest a picnic in the park for lunch, I didn’t realise you’d be bringing a friend with you.”

At the teasing comment, Joan rolled her eyes, and looked over at the Australian Shepherd puppy asleep between them. “I’m sorry, ok? I don’t even understand where this one came from.”

“Well, guessing by the breed, I’m gonna say... Australia?”

Joan gave her partner a look at that, clearly unimpressed by the joke. “I’m serious, Zoey! I don’t even know if I’ve paid for her! And, of course, she had to be delivered right before I was supposed to meet you for lunch...” She shook her head, picking at the food she’d bought them both for lunch. “I was going to take you to that new Italian place.”

Zoey’s eyes went wide at that. “The... The super expensive place?”

Joan nodded.

“Oh.” Zoey didn’t know what else to say. “You really don’t have to, Joan. I, I mean, I’m fine with a picnic. Actually, I think I might prefer it. Not- not that I don’t like going out to eat with you, but it doesn’t have to be fancy restaurants all the time.”

Joan looked like she was about to say something then, but her phone buzzed and she rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Probably someone calling me back for a meeting-” She frowned when she saw the message. “Uh. It’s my dog guy.” She blinked, reading the message silently. “Huh. Apparently I did order Prada here.”

Zoey wasn’t surprised by that. Just a little confused. “I thought you’d gotten rid of your dog guy? You know, after Burberry and Gucci showed up? I mean, this will be your fifth dog, Joan. You’re outnumbered five to one in your own house!”

“I cancelled the subscription, I didn’t fire my dog guy,” Joan clarified, before fixing Zoey with a look. “Do the dogs bother you?”

That made the younger woman frown. “Uh, no? I love dogs. It just... It seems like a lot, Joan, particularly given how much you’re working right now.”

Joan sighed then. “I know. I know. No more dogs from now on. I’ll fire my dog guy tomorrow.” Then, she held out a box of expensive-looking chocolate truffles. “Chocolate?”

The fourth time: Cartier

“Ok, so I lied.”

The defeated look on Joan’s face, coupled by the Great Dane puppy she held under one arm made a smile blossom across Zoey’s lips despite what the puppy signalled.

“Joan,” Zoey said then, trying to adopt a serious tone even as she wanted to laugh at the sight of her partner with such an adorable puppy, “I thought we agreed no more dogs right now?”

“We did,” Joan nodded furiously in agreement, “and I absolutely intended to stick to that. But I kind of didn’t... I didn’t fire my dog guy, ok? I lied about letting him go.”

Thankful that the office was pretty much deserted due to the lateness of the hour, Zoey sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “So you didn’t fire your dog guy like we discussed?”

“No,” Joan admitted, “and I’m really sorry about it. But it turns out he was so pleased that I’d decided to keep him on that, well, he gave me Cartier here.” She indicated the puppy dangling under one arm then.

“Your dog guy gave you a free dog for keeping him on?” Zoey clarified, not entirely sure what to make of it.

“I tried telling him that we’d said no more dogs for the time being, but it would have been rude not to accept the gift.” Joan moved towards Zoey’s desk. “We don’t have to keep him, Zoey. I know we agreed that five dogs is enough. But...Well, Tomford’s been sick, and it feels so quiet in the house while he’s at the vet’s, and-”

“Joan, I love you, but you have four other dogs at home. And besides, we’re picking Tomford up tomorrow, and I’m not sure how he’ll feel about a puppy running around the place.”

“He doesn’t mind Prada or Gucci,” Joan said, although Zoey could tell be her tone that she knew her argument was weak.

“He’s used to them, Joan. He’s lived with them for ages.  I mean, I’m not a dog, maybe Tomford will be fine with another puppy. And I know that you’re stressed out about him not being well. But seriously, you have to tell your dog guy not to get you any more dogs for, like, the next six months.”

Joan’s shoulders slumped at that, but she nodded. “I guess you’re right.” She looked around then, apparently only just noticing how quiet the fourth floor was. Seeing they were virtually alone, she looked back to Zoey with a soft smile on her face. “I love you.”

Zoey smiled back. “I love you too. Why don’t you wait downstairs, I’m nearly done.”

Joan moved towards the elevators then, before pausing and turning around again. “Does this mean I get to keep Cartier?”

The fifth time: Dolce & Gabbana

“Joan? Care to explain?”

Zoey Clarke stared at her partner, waiting calmly for a response. It wasn’t that Joan was twenty minutes late to movie night. It was why she was twenty minutes late to movie night.

“I told you I was getting another dog,” Joan reminded her, a little put-out. “You knew what I was doing.”

“Yes,” Zoey agreed, folding her arms across her chest and surveying the two puppies under Joan’s arms. “But you said one. I’m counting two. Did you buy two dogs without telling me?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Joan said, rolling her eyes. “I only ordered one. But, apparently, they’re inseparable and had to come as a pair. I got the other one free.”

“You got a ‘buy-one-get-one-free’ offer on German Shepherds?”

“Ugh,” Joan huffed. “Yes! Why is that so hard to understand?”

Ignoring her partner’s annoyance, Zoey arched an eyebrow. “What exactly are you going to do with two more dogs?”

At that, the brunette scoffed. “Uh, feed them, train them, look after them?”

“But Joan, you’ve already got four dogs! I know you’re upset about losing Tomford and Hermés so close together, but this is kind of ridiculous.”

Frowning, Joan looked to the two puppies she held. She surveyed them for several long moments before letting out a reluctant sigh. “I’ll call my dog person tomorrow. Tell him I don’t need any more.”

Zoey gave her a small smile. “Good.” She looked to the two puppies. “They’re cute. What are you calling them?”

At that, Joan grinned. “They’re brother and sister,” she informed her partner. “Zoey, meet Dolce and Gabbana.”

The first time: Armani

When the knock on her apartment door came, Zoey rushed to answer it. Joan was already ten minutes late to pick her up for their date, and the last thing she wanted was for them to get accosted by Mo and be even later.

“You’re here- Joan?”

Zoey blinked, as Joan breezed into the apartment in a gorgeous black dress. However, her eyes were instead on the live animal clutched under Joan’s arm.

“Joan,” Zoey repeated, “is that a bear cub?”

“Huh?” Joan asked, before glancing at the brown, furry animal under her arm. “Oh, yeah. I think so. The man claimed it wasn’t, but it sure as hell isn’t a dog.” She plopped the animal onto Zoey’s couch then. “Can I leave him here?”

“W- Wha-” Zoey spluttered, wide-eyed and still staring at the blinking bear cub.

“Just while we’re on the date,” Joan continued then. “I mean, we have reservations at that new Italian place, and you have no idea who I had to kill to get them.” She looked at the bear. “He’ll be fine for a few hours.”

“Joan, we can’t leave him in the apartment!” Zoey argued.

The older woman frowned. “It’s only for two, three hours tops. Besides, he’s tiny. He’s not going to do much damage.” She looked around at the decor. “Although there’s not much to damage...”

“Joan!”

“Oh, Zoey, Armani will be fine! Just put some water down for him.” Then, she headed for Zoey’s kitchen.

“Armani? You named the bear Armani?” Zoey followed her partner, wide-eyed.

“Yes. Why, did you have a better suggestion?” Joan pulled a bowl from a cupboard and filled it with water, before heading back into the sitting room and placing it on the floor.

Zoey hurried after her, baffled at the conversation they had to have. “Joan, you can’t keep him. He’s a wild animal! Or, well, if he’s not wild then he’s been stolen from a zoo! Either way, he can’t live with you.”

“I know,” Joan shrugged. “I would have sorted it, but I was already running late, and the man kept insisting he was a dog even though he wasn’t, so I thought ‘to hell with it!’ and brought him with me.”

Exasperated, Zoey threw her hands up in the air. “So you paid the guy?”

Joan waved off her concern, though. “Eh, wasn’t much. Only $500 or so.”

“You bought a bear, Joan! I’m pretty certain that’s illegal.”

“Then I’ll pay the fine and give Armani to a zoo or something. Zoey, I don’t intend to keep him. I’m not stupid.”

“But you named him Armani!”

“Because it suits him. Now, are we going to continue arguing about Armani, or are we going to dinner?”

Before Zoey could respond to that, Mo breezed into the apartment.

“I thought you two had a hot date? Why are you here, arguing about fashion designers- Oh, hello...” Mo trailed off at the sight of the animal on Zoey’s couch.

“Joan accidentally bought a bear,” Zoey explained with a sigh, folding her arms across her chest.

“I ordered a dog,” Joan clarified.

Mo winced. “Well, that’s not a dog.” He considered the animal for a moment. “Cute, though!”

At that, Joan grinned. “Isn’t he? Zoey doesn’t want to leave him alone in the apartment, though.”

Mo brightened then. “Oh, well I can look after him.”

Zoey arched an eyebrow at her friend. “You want to look after a bear cub for the night?”

“Sounds like fun,” Mo shrugged, seating himself on Zoey’s sofa next to a baffled Armani. “Besides, how many people get to look after a real life bear cub?”

Zoey stared for a moment, trying to process exactly what was going on, before shaking her head in frustration. “Fine,” she said, grabbing Joan’s hand. “But the minute we get back, we’re calling animal control, or the zoo, or something. We’re not keeping a bear.”

She tugged Joan towards the door then, ignoring her partner as she called “Bye, Armani!” to the animal. As she turned to close the door behind her, she just had time to see Mo lean down towards the cub.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun, Armani!”

Rolling her eyes, Zoey slammed the door shut and tugged Joan down the stairs.

[fandomfanfics12]

For Blue, Blue Skies-Part 3

Title: For Blue, Blue Skies Pairings: Steve x tony Part: 3/5 Warnings: swearing, bullying, abuse (physical and verbal), blood, angst, fluff. Summary: Steve was sure he’d aced his latest test in his forensics class but as it turns out, Professor Fury failed almost everyone. In order to get extra credit Steve and his friends join a program that Fury called The Avengers to deal with a bullying problem at the nearby high school. Hidden behind the glitz and glamour of his father’s money, most people can’t see that Tony Stark’s life is a nightmare. All Tony wants is to get out of this hellish school as quickly as possible and get as far away from his abusive father as soon as possible. A/N: Tag list is open if you want to be tagged, next part should be up sometime in the next week. hope you enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2

That afternoon Tony nervously made his way to the Shwarma place that Bruce had told him to go to. He was just down the street from it but he was overcome with nerves suddenly. His body ached and he knew he should take care of himself, go to a doctor or tell the school about what was going on. But Howard had a lot of money and therefore a lot of power and Tony knew it wasn’t worth the risk. Tony didn’t want to go home, but he couldn’t risk another night in the park either. He needed to figure something out. Bruce is a nice kid, he’s not pulling a prank. Tony told himself but wasn’t comforted by that, his anxiety outweighed the logic. He was about to turn around and go home when he saw Steve, coming down the other end of the street and going inside the Shwarma place. It eased all of Tony’s anxieties because Steve needed to do well to get extra credit, he would be participating in some insidious prank. Tony forced his feet to move, his hands to stop shaking and made himself step inside. he spotted Steve, heading towards a table in the back where two other college students and Bruce all sat. they were all huddled around a stack of papers, notebooks and textbooks. They’re studying.

Tony was overcome with a sense of relief knowing that Bruce really truly wasn’t pranking him and had been serious about doing a study group. With newfound confidence he crossed the room, following Steve and hoping that maybe he could make a friend out of Bruce, maybe he could have someone who cared about him.

-

Steve sat down, pulling his textbook out of his bag, Bruce was in a deep conversation with Natasha and Bucky.

“about time.” Bucky grumbled to him when Bruce paused but then focused back on what Bruce was saying. Nat glanced at him and he offered her a half smile, she just playfully rolled her eyes and also focused back on what Bruce was saying. Steve glanced at the restaurant and noticed that none other than Tony Stark was walking towards them. He gave Steve a nervous smile which put a flutter in Steve’s stomach. Steve didn’t like that, this snobby rich kid had no place in his stomach, he wasn’t allowed to give Steve butterflies. Not like that. He thought to himself and then Bruce looked up, his whole face brightening.

“You made it!” he grinned and Steve frowned. He was overcome with the desire to protect Bruce, Tony was a bully and he couldn’t be trusted. Tony was just using Bruce for his own personal gain. Steve needed to figure out a way of warning Bruce before Tony used him today.

“What are you doing here?” Steve demanded and the smile slipped off of Tony’s face, a flash of hurt and disappointment in his eyes and then a stoic mask of neutrality.

“Bruce invited me.” Tony said as he sat down in the booth across from Steve. Steve realised that the other three had fallen silent, watching the two of them in interest.

“Last time I checked you weren’t in Professor Fury’s class.” Steve tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. Bucky cleared his throat but Tony and Steve didn’t dare break eye contact. In this lighting, his eyes looked more like a molten gold than their usual chocolate orbs.

-

Steve’s eyes were so fucking blue that it was actually ridiculous. They were an ice blue, cold and hard and unforgiving. Tony swallowed suddenly feeling like he was being put on trial for murder.

“Steve?” the girl asked but still they maintained eye contact. Tony knew he was supposed to say something but his brain was short circuiting. Even though Steve was an ass, Tony could acknowledge that he was pretty. The kind of pretty that made his heart ache, and seeing him in his leather jacked was doing weird things to his heart, making his brain go all fuzzy. He’s an asshole, remember? And that seemed to snap Tony out of it. because Steve hated Tony just as much as everyone else did.

“Bruce just said it was a study group, he didn’t say what it was for.” Tony said, forcing himself to look away from Steve and turn his attention to Bruce who had a single brow raised.

“I thought with that big brain of yours you’d be able to help. Or I could help you out with Miss Hill’s assignment?” Bruce offered and Tony nodded, glad he had the right books in his bag. He could still feel Steve watching him, glaring at him. His eyes were narrowed and his brows furrowed, creating a little crease in his forehead. Tony wanted to know what he’d done to offend Steve so badly, was their one and only conversation really so terrible? Did Steve really hate him so much already? Tony just grabbed Steve’s homework and took a look at it, reading over the notes Steve had made in his slanted handwriting.

“I think you’re overthinking it.” Tony said and when he risked a glance at Steve the guy looked pretty pissed off.

“Oh really?” Tony nodded, he was detailed but it was so detailed that the facts were lost in irrelevant pieces. Mercifully, Bruce had started talking to the girl and the guy, leaving Steve and Tony to their own devices. So Tony launched into his own explanation, going over Steve’s work and he kept waiting for Steve to explode, to yell at him or make some mean remark. But eventually Steve seemed to relax a little, deep in thought as Tony spoke, his face softening and the crease in his forehead vanishing from sight.

-

Steve hated to admit it but Tony really knew what he was talking about. His instructions were clear and detailed and Steve finally found himself understanding where he’d gone wrong. the hours ticked  by and at some point it had started raining outside. When Steve asked questions Tony would explain it until Steve properly understood the content, and then Steve started to feel bad for judging Tony so harshly. His immediate response had been to think that Tony was just going to use Bruce, but he was actually helping Steve. Even though Steve had been an asshole towards him. He hadn’t earned Tony’s help, and yet here he was receiving it. it was starting to get late and Steve’s stomach growled, the longing of leftover food at home filled him. His back was also starting to ache from sitting in this booth for so long.

“should we call it for the night?” Nat asked after Bruce yawned and the everyone other than Tony nodded.

“Sure.” He said once everyone stared at him for a long moment. Nerves curdled in Steve’s gut, had Tony had some elaborate plan for tonight? Was he planning on doing something to Bruce? Steve stood up and shoved his books into his bag, glancing at Tony suspiciously.

“thanks for the help Bruce.” Bucky said and Bruce nodded, Steve glanced to Tony and bit his lip. Was he supposed to thank him? What if he had some horribly awful plan awaiting Bruce? Some sinister plot that could damage the sweet nerdy kid?

“Thanks.” Steve said after too long a pause, his mother had raised him to be polite, even when Steve was reluctant to be so. Tony just nodded, tugging the worn hoodie sleeves down his hands and moving so Bruce could get out of the booth.

“Anytime.” Tony said but his voice was shaking.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked and Tony nodded, his hands balled into fists.

“fine.” His voice tight now.

-

They were all staring and he was just trying to stop the oncoming panic attack. Howard would be waiting for him, he’d be pissed that Tony hadn’t come home all afternoon. Tony was screwed, he just knew it.

“Buck, Nat, do you guys mind walking Bruce home?” Steve said and the two of them nodded, finally Tony had names to the faces and he tried to focus on that detail rather than the impending doom that awaited him.

“what about you?” Bruce asked and Steve scratched the back of his head.

“Tony’s a scrawny kid, I want to make sure he gets home safely.” Tony almost snorted, as if the walk home was the worst thing that awaited him tonight.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to.” Tony said but Steve just shrugged.

“it’d make me feel better knowing you got home safely, besides it’s the least I can do after you helped me all afternoon.” Tony hesitated but nodded, maybe he could invite Steve in and keep him around for a while longer. Howard wouldn’t try something with a guest present, right?

“Okay.” His voice was barely above a whisper but no one argued then. So tony picked up his bag, said goodbye and then stepped back out onto the street, Steve beside him.

“you really don’t have to do this Steve.” Tony said when they were still standing there, neither moving and neither looking at one another. Both boys just stared down at the concrete ground.

“it’s honestly fine Tony, which way do we go?” he looked up and Tony met Steve’s eyes. His throat constricted so he just began walking and Steve fell into step beside him. The rain had mercifully stopped but there was an awful chill wind that breezed through Tony’s jumper like it wasn’t there at all. It wasn’t five minutes before he started shivering. If they had been talking, Steve wouldn’t have noticed. But they were silent and the sound of Tony’s teeth chattering together filled the silence that stretched between the two of them.

“Hang on.” Steve stopped and Tony did to, and then Steve was shrugging out of his leather jacket to reveal very large biceps that made Tony swallow. Why is he so fucking pretty? Tony wondered and then realised Steve was holding out his jacket.

“huh?” Tony said because his brain didn’t know how to function when Steve was being nice.

“you’re freezing and I was starting to melt in it anyway.” He reached out further, and Tony’s hands fumbled as he took it.

“oh, uh, umm, thanks?” Steve looked down at the ground and scratched the back of his neck as Tony shrugged the jacket on.

-

When Steve looked up he saw just how much his leather jacket swallowed Tony up and his heart stopped. His brain malfunctioned and his brows rose as his jaw fell open slightly. Tony, thankfully, wasn’t looking at him but was picking up his backpack again and then drawing Steve’s jacket tighter around him. He started walking again and it took Steve a moment to comprehend that he was supposed to follow him.

“So what do you want to do when high school is over?” Steve asked just so he could focus on a normal conversation rather than how good Tony looked in his jacket.

-

Tony couldn’t believe how warm the jacket was and it took him a long moment to understand that Steve had spoken.

“oh, uh, I want to go to college.”

“which one?”

“MIT, that’s if I can get in. the guidance counsellor thinks I’ve got the grades for it.”

“That’s far from here isn’t it?” Steve asked and Tony nodded, shoving his hands into the jacket pockets.

“That’s partially why I want to go.” to get away from Howard, even if it only was four hours away.

“I have a question.” Steve said it so suddenly that Tony jumped.

“Okay…” he trailed off, brows furrowing.

“Are you and Bruce like friends now?”

“Uhm, I don’t know?” he drew Steve’s jacket tighter around him and breathed in deeply, Steve’s scent clogged his nose and Tony was getting a little dizzy from it. damn Steve for looking so attractive and for smelling so good. The jacket itself was good quality and soft, softer than anything Tony had touched in years. Not to mention how it swallowed him up, only adding to the warmth it had instantly provided him. They’d be at his house soon, and then Tony would have to give back the jacket and deal with Howard’s wrath and it all made Tony’s stomach curdle and hands tremble.

“it just seemed like you two didn’t exactly get along the other day and then today he invited you.” Tony nodded, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of Steve’s jacket. What was he supposed to say?

“I don’t really have that many people in my life and I think Bruce just noticed.” Tony shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“why is that?” Steve asked and then they were turning onto his street and Tony’s brain was starting to go foggy with fear.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tony said and stopped on his driveway. Steve stopped and spun around, his eyes narrowing and crease reappearing on his forehead.

“I want to think that you’re a good guy but Bruce is a good kid and I don’t want another snobby rich kid to just walk all over him.” Steve said and Tony stumbled back a step.

“I’m not going to do anything to Bruce.” Tony told him and Steve raised a brow.

“my job is to look out for him, and that includes making sure you don’t hurt him or use him. I’m serious Tony.” Tony nodded, inhaling sharply.

“Thanks for walking me home but I really should get inside now.” and Tony practically ran to his front door, panic rising in his throat. For a moment he’d thought that Steve had cared about him, had wanted to get to know him. But he was just as hostile towards Tony as everyone else was, he didn’t care about Tony. Tony slammed the front door shut and let out a frustrated groan.

“and where exactly have you been?” Howard snarled behind him and Tony inhaled sharply. Shit.

-

Steve was so pissed off at Tony for running inside that he’d started to walk home. He was almost halfway back to his apartment when he realised he’d forgotten his jacket. Dammit. Steve turned around and began walking back towards Tony’s house, irritation flared within him. He walked all the way back in the freezing cold to Tony’s house, trying to convince himself that it was good exercise. The lights were still on and when Steve reached the front door he began to second guess himself. Was this appropriate? Should he just wait until Monday? He shook himself and knocked on the door, it was his jacket after all. He waited a minute and nobody answered, so he knocked again. Harder and louder this time and waited another three minutes. When nobody answered yet again he tried the door handle, it was unlocked.

“Hello?” Steve called out slowly as the door swung open. The lights were on but the luxurious hallway before him was empty. Steve stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and took another step further into the house.

“tony?” he called but his voice was swallowed up by a scream. Steve ran, heart racing and blood pounding as the voice grew louder and louder. He burst through a door to find an old man, belt gripped tightly in his right hand, standing over a shirtless Tony who was curled up on the floor. They both froze and turned, Tony’s face morphed into a look of fear, the old man’s a look of rage.

“go.” Tony whispered but it was too late, the man charged towards Steve and Steve’s feet were practically glued to the ground.

[ardentprose]

Chapter 2 - Together

Yoongi X Reader

Warnings: Language, Implied Racism?? (just in case)

Thank you as always for your patience. Battling anxiety and writer’s block is not easy but I made it through! These chapters may become shorter so that they are easier to read and more frequent. Thanks <3.

Thanksgiving Break.

Cars roll up to dormitories, some carrying friends, others parents who have made the drive to see their beloved children and take them home for a hot dinner. Within a few hours most of the campus is abandoned. Dorms stand clean, vacant and locked. The cafeteria prepares its last late lunch before closing down its services. Those staying on campus for one reason or another have their fridges stocked for the next twenty four hours for their own small celebrations.

Tucked away in one of the dorms’ bedrooms, Min Yoongi shoves various black pieces of clothing into his duffle bag. Unlike his fellow dorm mates roaring with delight in the hallways, Yoongi is less than thrilled.

To start, he had no idea the Thanksgiving break existed, let alone Thanksgiving. Call him air-headed or ignorant, but Yoongi preferred the term focused. So hyper focused that he could miss big details around him like a national holiday that shut down every school in the country.

With one hand Yoongi presses down his clothing, while the other attempts to zip up his bag bit by bit. Biceps flexing and knuckles protruding, Yoongi leans all his weight into the bag until it finally shuts with a satisfactory zip.

He releases a huge sigh and turns to his empty backpack. He still has to pack his music equipment. It’s nothing fancy like he has back in Korea, but a small portable keyboard, laptop, headphones, and launch pad.

But for now he’s hungry and if he doesn’t hurry Hoseok will raid the pantry and steal his portion of snacks. On his way to the kitchen, Yoongi slams the door closed to their dorm, effectively muting the rowdy men in the halls. One he swears is Kim Seokjin cursing out his roommate for spilling a beer.

“You packed and ready to go?” Hoseok asks from where he stands in front of the pantry doing exactly what Yoongi feared. The shorter boy walks up behind him and hip checks Hoseok out the way. Hoseok allows it and easily reaches over Yoongi’s head. 

“Yeah for the most part.” Yoongi mutters, sliding an arm into the shelf and hugging all his snacks at once to his chest.

A pack of Cheetos drops and both boys glance down at it. Hoseok swoops down and picks it up, offering it to Yoongi.

“Keep it.” Yoongi says, turning to head back to his room.

“Alright, Yoon, not so fast.” Hoseok tugs on Yoongi’s shoulder but it doesn’t deter the solemn man from heading back to his bedroom. Hoseok follows on his heels, trying to gauge his roommate’s mood.

“You never let me have your snacks. What’s wrong?” He asks, tossing the Cheetos on Yoongi’s bed and then going over to hop onto his. Hoseok was an efficient, clean person - most of the time. The past weeks had gotten a tad hairy but Hoseok made up for it by deep cleaning their dorm until it smelled of lemon and Clorox. As such Hoseok was packed and waiting for his ride two hours in advance, giving him ample time to figure out what had his roommate so down.

Lying back and tucking his hands behind his head, Hoseok watches Yoongi find places for his snacks to go around the equipment he puts into the backpack.

After another minute of silence, Hoseok is about to ask again when Yoongi finally responds.

“I’m going with Y/N to her house.”

“No shit, really? You excited, bro? That’s practically an invitation to-”

“No, it isn’t.” Yoongi shoots Hoseok a glare hard enough to make him swallow the rest of his sentence.

“Then why are you going?”

“She invited me.”

“And you want to go?”

“I don’t have a choice. They’re closing down the school.”

“You could stay if you really wanted to. But you’re not. You’re going to Y/N’s house and celebrating Thanksgiving with her family. “

“Yeah.”  Yoongi exhales, sending the word out between shaky lips. Hoseok narrows his eyebrows, then sits up to see if Yoongi truly looks as terrified as he sounds.

“Yoongi.” He calls and slowly, Yoongi turns to meet Hoseok’s eyes.

“You’re freaking out aren’t you? Don't worry. I’m sure Y/N’s family is as sweet as she is.”

“I’ve never been to an American house before.” Yoongi admits. He sits down on the edge of his bed and drops his face into his hands.

Hoseok hums, reaching across the few feet of space between their beds and taking Yoongi’s hand in his own.

“Okay, but Americans are not some alien species. They’re normal people like us and once you get there you’ll have fun with them. Especially if Y/N’s there with you.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi lifts his head, sending his friend an incredulous look. “I have yet to see normal behavior from them.”

Hoseok wrinkles his brow, then bursts into laughter as realization dawns.

“Yoongi! Trust me! I’ve been here two years alright? I lived with an American family last year and they were the coolest people I have ever met. You’re freaking yourself out over something that’s not a big deal. We come from different cultures, but so what? At the end of the day we’re all human and we all like to eat.”

“You sound like Y/N.” Yoongi groans, rubbing his face in anxiety.

“Hyung, listen.” Hoseok’s tone becomes serious as he searches for Yoongi’s eyes. “You will be fine. Y/N wouldn’t take you with her if she thought you wouldn’t enjoy it. And if you get uncomfortable just tell her. I can’t imagine she would get offended.”

“I’m not doing that.” Yoongi frowns, lifting his reddened face from his relentless palms. His lower lip juts out and his cheek are round and flushed.

“Ah, hyung. Then just stay on campus.” Hoseok gives up, falling backwards onto the bed and releasing a groan.

“N-no. I want to go.” Yoongi mumbles. His heart is thudding in his chest and his palms are clammy, but no matter how terrified he is of your family, Yoongi knew he didn’t want to mope around his empty dorm for five days.

He knows he would be miserable spending the holiday alone, because his attitude has already changed since meeting you. Much to his disliking. The first few weeks of school Yoongi refused to leave his dorm, not even for Hoseok. He liked having the dorm to work on his music without disruption.

But then he met you. Smiling, laughing, sweetheart you. Someone who promised to help him pass his English tests. Someone who forced him out to a cafe once a week in order to study. Someone who tried his coffee even though she didn’t like the black taste of it. Someone who was gentle when he stuttered. Someone who trusted him enough to fall asleep on her books in public.

And somewhere along the way Yoongi suddenly found himself looking forward to the cafe sessions every Thursday. Now whenever he was alone he missed having you around to fill the silence. He spent hours looking up unique coffee flavors to win you over instead of working on the next bar of his latest song. Instead of glaring and refusing to speak, Yoongi laughed with you whenever he mispronounced a word. Never having been one to initiate conversations, now he couldn’t help but tease you just to earn your pretty eyes on him again and again. To hear you say his name felt like he was the most beautiful Korean word you had learned.

Yoongi chews on his lip, his eyes coming back into focus as he picks up on Hoseok’s humming while texting away on his phone. Hoseok was used to these sessions where yoongi would temporarily leave the planet and be lost in the recesses of his mind. As if it was second nature Hoseok drops his phone on his stomach and looks over at Yoongi.

“So you’re going?”

“I’m going.”

----- “Hey Yoongi!” You wave across the parking lot causing the older man to blush and look down at the sidewalk. Hearing your rapid footsteps he comes to a stop, meeting your excited eyes with his one apprehensive ones.

“Are you ready? Is this all your stuff? Do you need help carrying anything?” You fire questions at him making him widen his eyes at the near foreign words flying from your chapped lips.

“I’m all right.” He answers after processing the words.

“Hey, that’s English! We’re not even studying. Wow, you must have an amazing teacher.” You wink and laugh. Yoongi just smiles, overwhelmed by this new side of you that is clearly excited for this Thanksgiving holiday.

“Are you ready?” Yoongi asks following you back to your little grey sedan. You nod several times while popping open the trunk for him to place his duffel bag and backpack in beside your luggage.

“I’ve been waiting for Thanksgiving break for years.” You drag out the last word and slam the trunk closed.

“I can’t wait for you to meet my family, Yoongi.” You send him a heart-stopping smile before digging your keys out your pocket and sliding into the front seat.

Yoongi swallows. He doesn’t want to take away from your excitement but to say the feelings were mutual would be far from the tight ball of nerves currently wrapping around Yoongi’s throat.

Getting in and closing his passenger door with a thud, Yoongi leans back against the seat and slides his hands down his black jeans. He shifts his legs together than apart and tries to figure out what to do with his arms.

Why am I so weird? Just stop moving and sit still. Yoongi berates and shifts again until you flick on the radio distracting him from his attempt at not being awkward.

The first few minutes of the drive pass in silence. Trees blur into one another as you speed up, heading towards the highway.

“Do you care if we get some snacks?” You ask, breaking the silence with a glance Yoongi’s way.  

He nods knowing full well his backpack is stuffed with snacks. Hoseok even gave him a parting gift of some Haribo gummy bears to wish him good luck.

“Great, let’s stop here.” You say and turn into a bright yellow gas station.

Just say you already have snacks in your bag, idiot. Save some money.

But she might not like them. They’re mostly Korean junk food.

Just ask and see what she says.

Who am I to deny her? She wants snacks. We get snacks. Yoongi ends his internal debate by slamming the car door closed and follows you into the convenience store.

Although having been in America for a semester now, Yoongi never grew tired of how many Americans snacks there were in your average store. All the rainbow advertisements and family sized packaging blew him away and was the reason he fell into an obsession of hoarding chips, Cheetos, and candy from his roommate.

You split up heading towards the bathroom while Yoongi walks down the candy aisle. After picking up some Twizzlers, he turns the corner and finds a familiar blue package of chocolate cookies. He grabs it and purses his lips, sounding out the word.

“Oh ree oh….Oreo!” Lighting up with recognition, Yoongi chuckles, grabbing two packs of the sweet cookies. If there was anything he had learned in this country, it was oreos were fucking cocaine to college students.

Even if I can’t finish all of these, I can always sell them. He reasons while grabbing a third pack.

“Hey, what’d you find?” You grin, back from the bathroom, and Yoongi grins back, unabashed by the amount of food in his arms. “You know my family will feed you right?”

Yoongi recognizes your teasing tone and rolls his eyes.

“Olee- Oh ree oh.” Yoongi grins.

“They’re good!” You agree, taking some from his arms.

“Fuck yeah.”

You burst into laughter, walking ahead of him to the counter. “Yoongi, I swear the only English you’ve learned how to say correctly are curse words.” You grab some things along the way for yourself and set them on the counter.

“Oh wait! I want to grab some gummy bears for my sister!” You turn on your heel and take off towards the candy section.

“I have gummy bears!” Yoongi calls after you, but you must not understand him as you disappear around the bend.

Turning back to the counter, Yoongi spots a bell and rings it. The cashier, an older man with slumped shoulders and bags under his eyes swings the backroom door open. He eyes Yoongi up and down before shuffling forward to sit down at the cash register.

Silently, he starts ringing Yoongi’s snacks up while Yoongi pushes the items within the man’s reach.

Yoongi glances towards the candy section where you disappeared to. The man is almost done ringing up his things. He hasn’t so much as spared a glance towards him, but he might ask a question Yoongi doesn’t know the answer to.

Please hurry up. He bites his lip as the cashier meets Yoongi’s eyes for the first time. He must look a nervous wreck because the cashier raises his eyebrow for a tenth of a second before sliding his gaze into neutral once more.

“Ten ninety five.” The man clears his throat.

Yoongi swallows thickly, and pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. Separating the green bills he searches for the correct number, praying you’re on your way back before he has to hand over the money.

Alas, you are still nowhere to be seen as Yoongi picks out a ten and picks out a five dollar bill - just to be safe - and places it on the counter.

“I said ten ninety five.” The man says. Lightning courses through Yoongi’s veins.

Shit! I got it wrong. Before he can grab the money back the cashier sweeps up the cash, muttering something under his breath.

“Hey, sorry. I found them.” You sigh, placing your hand on Yoongi’s shoulder and reaching before him to drop the candy.

“You have to wait your turn.” The cashier rests his hand on the open drawer, staring at you.

“Oh, no we’re together.” You respond, offering a polite smile.

“You’re with him?” The man states it like it’s a warning, causing your smile to fall.

Yoongi glances between you two, trying to figure out what the problem was. Or why your hand - which he was still processing as being on his shoulder - was now clenching his bicep.

I’m studying harder this break. He chews on his lip, sensing the tension between you and the cashier. His heart begins to pound, hands growing moist.

“Yeah. We are.” You state in the same tone the cashier used with you. Stepping closer to Yoongi, you hook an arm around him and send the man a look. “Thanks.”

Yoongi’s face blooms and he grows stiff, his entire mind focused on the fact that you were touching him, holding his arm against your side like it would be ripped away from you otherwise.

“To each his own I guess.” The cashier mumbles, sliding the receipt back over and unhooking the plastic bag to hand over the counter.

“Yup.” You respond curtly, turning with Yoongi on your arm and leaving the store.

He follows you numbly to the car, not realizing your speaking to him until he feels a sharp poke to his side.  

“Yoongi? Are you alright?”

“Hm? Yeah.” He blinks, watching you toss the snacks in the back and then get into the car. He follows suit and pulls the seatbelt across his chest.

“I’m sorry about in there. I can’t believe he asked that.”

“What happened?” Yoongi asks softly, blushing with the lack of knowledge he possessed in order to help you.

“Oh, you didn’t understand him? Well that’s for the best then.  It wasn’t a big deal. He...he just assumed something.”

“Assumed?”

“Guessed wrongly.”

After a moment of silence, letting you concentrate on merging onto the highway, Yoongi turns to you once again.

“Together. What does it mean?”

“Together?” Yoongi frowns watching your cheeks color.

Now he was more confused than before. Did the cashier insult you in some way? He himself be damned, if that man said anything to upset you Yoongi swears he will find the location of that gas station and teach the man a thing or two - in Korean.

“I-It just means...like...you know...we stay with each other.” You wrinkle your brow and your knuckles tighten around the steering wheel.

“Me and you. We are together?” He asks for clarification. In return he gets an even deeper shade of red on your face. You lick your lips, curling them into your mouth.

“Yeah...we are.” you hesitate and Yoongi watches amused. “As friends.”

“Together. Friends.” He sighs satisfied with your explanation. Yoongi closes his eyes and leans back against the headrest.

“Yeah. Friends.” You repeat in a voice so soft,  Yoongi barely catches the words as he drifts off. 

[whitewallwhispers]

Little Lies

Narcos - Javier Peña - Series

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

A young writer moves to Colombia to perform research on the drug war for her latest novel. She’s willing to do anything for information, which leads her down a rabbit hole that begins to blur the line between pretending to be someone and becoming something she might not be ready for.

Despite the best efforts of D.E.A. Peña, she finds herself out of her depth and everything is falling apart.

Warnings: Mentions of burns, gunshot wounds, blood, stitches, and scars. Mentions of oral sex (male receiving). Strong language (pretty much every expletive under the sun). Unprotected sex (wrap it up, folks)

My hope is that you can imagine this character as any race with any style of hair (as someone with short hair I get annoyed when every fic mentions long locks and ponytails).

Author’s Note: Here I am, back on my bullshit, telling you once more that these dirty-ass thoughts are about Javier Peña and Javier Peña alone. God BLESS Pedro’s acting abilities because I wanna fuck the socks off of nearly ever character he plays but IRL I just wanna give him a nice soft pat on the head. (No offense, bud)

Tag List (Open!): @fanfiction-trashpile | @sophster1881 | @theringostarfanclub | @thinemineours | @fatbottomedcurls | The OG: @courtneybgourtney​

Finally, she was bidding what she hoped would be her last client of the night goodbye. As soon as he was out of her room she all but sprinted to the upstairs bathroom to brush her teeth.

Another blowjob and massage - the only work she could really handle yet. It let her keep her robe on so that the clients wouldn’t see her grisly burns or bandages, and it didn’t put too much strain on the rest of her body. Just giving handjobs and blowjobs all day would be easy - if she wasn’t getting assigned every client who came asking for one.

Don’t complain, she reprimanded herself. It was kind of Giovanni to give her so much work. She was making good money, far better than she had been on her own, and she hadn’t even had to have sex yet. It’d been two weeks since Gio had agreed to let her live and work in the house. She was one of only three girls who lived there full-time. But even though the work so far wasn’t demanding, her body was still not at its best, and a full day left her completely exhausted.

With a sigh she pulled back the top sheet on her bed used for clients to make room for her to lay down on the clean, usable blankets beneath. She couldn’t truly go to bed. Only when Giovanni came to tell her she was done for the night would she be allowed to take off her makeup and get into her pajamas. So she stayed in her hand-me-down stockings and discount lingerie and fake silk robe, laying on top of her covers, ready for a cat nap.

Her eyes were shut. Her wounds weren’t hurting. By all means, she should’ve passed out immediately.

But something kept her awake.

Something seeping quietly through the structure of the house, something unsettling. 

There were the faint pounds of headboards against walls, the other girls crying out - she was used to that.

But now there was something else.

A voice, cutting through it all, a voice that sent shivers up her spine.

It couldn’t be Manuel. She’d killed him. She’d stabbed him, over and over, until he’d died. So why did it bring up bloodstained memories? What made every hair on her body stand on end? What made her feel like something bad was about to happen?

Ignore it. She’d been on edge ever since that night. She couldn’t trust her own instincts anymore. Everywhere she felt danger, and as of yet it hadn’t actually appeared. She tried to tune it out, tried to go to sleep, but it was useless. She waited five more minutes before giving up. Annoyed, she launched herself out of bed. After pulling the top sheet back in place she checked her hair and makeup in the mirror - a little mussed, but not bad. 

Then she was on her way downstairs and through the door that separated the public part of the house from the private spaces - the kitchen, Giovanni’s bedroom and office, and the bathroom that the girls used to shower before, between, or after sessions. Sofia and Jimena (though since they were working she was supposed to call them Estella and Jade) were there as well, grabbing a snack.

“Eve! How’s your night going?” Sofia asked, holding out a bag of chips as an offering. She shook her head.

“Not bad. Are there any clean glasses around?”

Jimena nodded and reached into the cupboard behind her to grab one.

“How about you two?”

“Pretty much the same,” Sofia said with a shrug. “Better than Lupe’s.” She and Jimena burst into a fit of giggles then. 

“What am I missing?” she asked as she poured herself a bit of red wine from one of the many bottles of booze that littered the counter.

“Her cousin came in earlier, he didn’t recognize her name and asked for her,” Jimena gossiped, “and of course Gio had no idea who he was so he approved it. Lupe opened the door for him and then immediately shut it in his face.”

“No!” she gasped, joining in their laughter.

“Estella, what time is it?” Giovanni stepped through the door from the main house, tapping his watch.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Sofia jumped up immediately, tossing her chips onto the counter.

“Wash your hands first,” Giovanni sighed. “Jade, go help Aspasia in the sitting room. She’s currently stuck with two fighting over her, get one of them to pick you.”

“Right,” Jimena nodded and followed Sofia from the room.

“Eve, you’re probably done for now, but stay awake just in case. We’re completely booked tonight, and if I have no one to spare, you’ll have to do a lot more than just hand work. Just keep your robe on as long as possible and turn the lights off so they can’t see your bandages”

She nodded, and with that Giovanni turned to go to his office, pulling out a stack of cash from inside his well-cut cream jacket that he began to count quietly under his breath. With a sigh she finished the rest of the wine in her glass and placed it in the sink. Then her eyes fell on the half empty bottle on the counter.

Well, if I can’t go to sleep…

She might as well find something else to do. She scooped it up and took a swig straight from the bottle as she pushed through the door back to the main part of the house. Giovanni hadn’t been exaggerating - the establishment was full to bursting, and very loud. The music was covering up most of the noise, but that just meant it was cranked all the way up. She could feel the railing of the stairs rattle as she shuffled up the steps, trying to go easy on her hip.

Sofia and the man who’d booked her squeezed by in the small hallway, bumping into her on their way to Sofia’s room.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t see him first.

Her fingers had just wrapped around her own door handle when a voice made her jump.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

She whipped her head around and was shocked to see Javier coming out of Isabella’s room, still buttoning his shirt, his hair sweaty and mussed.

Shit. Since when did he start coming to this brothel? When she’d interviewed the girls some of them knew about him from other places they’d worked, but he’d never come to this establishment.

Until now.

Of course.

She couldn’t even think of what to do for several seconds. She just stood there, blinking, watching the way his chest rose and fell, still out of breath from where he’d been and what he’d been doing moments ago.

Seeing him like this hurt.

Seeing him right after he got done fucking someone else hurt. 

Far more than she’d ever thought it could. 

Far more than the bullets embedded in her body.

Then she moved without even thinking about it. Instinctually, her body just wanted her to get away from him and start trying to numb the shattering ache in her chest. So she looked away and walked into her room without saying anything. But before she could turn to lock it, Javier was pushing the door open, slamming it shut behind him and enveloping them in soft shadows, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside.

“Don’t walk away from me. I’ve been so fucking worried about you. When you didn’t call I asked at the hospital but they said you’d already been discharged. I went to your apartment but your landlady said you’d left without explanation.” He began moving towards her, so she stepped back, retreating from him until the back of her legs hit her mattress. She hurriedly put the wine on her nightstand before responding.

“I’m sorry, Javi,” she stammered.

“What are you doing here?” He kept coming, unbearably close, giving her no space to think or breathe or collect herself. She could smell Isabella’s perfume on him and it made her feel sick.

“Trying to earn enough to go home.”

“Please tell me you’re not working here.”

She said nothing. Instead she sat down and gripped the edge of her mattress, looking at the floor. 

“No. You can’t be doing this yet.”

“No? What do you mean, no?” She owed him everything, but that didn’t mean he got to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. Now she was angry, and it gave her enough resolve to look at him. He’d never seemed more intimidating than he did now, looming over her, his face and eyes visibly furious even in the darkness. “I don’t have a choice. Other members of the cartel knew where I lived, they came and took everything.”

“No, that was me and Steve,” Javier sighed. “That’s why I wanted you to call me when you got discharged. All of your stuff is waiting for you at a safehouse.”

That didn’t help. If anything, it made her feel worse. 

“Javi, stop.”

“Stop what?” He sounded exasperated. 

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t let you do this.”

“Do what?” 

“I owe you too much. And I’ll never be able to pay you back for it, ever. You can’t keep doing these things for me. You need to cut me off. For fuck’s sake, you saved my life. You’ve done enough. More than enough.”

He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Why is it always like this with you? If I didn’t want to help you, I wouldn’t. I don’t want anything from you. I see you as someone in a bad situation, a situation I can help. I mean - my entire life for the past fucking decade has been about trying to do something good and always falling short. Do you know what that’s like? Do you know how awful that is, to constantly fail? To see good people, people I consider friends, die in the name of a cause we can’t seem to set right? Just let me have one thing I can do that actually makes a fucking difference.”

“I’m not worth it.”

She wasn’t. She was just someone who bit off more than she could chew. She was naive. She put herself in a situation way out of her depth and made all the wrong choices. They were her mistakes. She had to deal with the consequences. It wasn’t fair to let someone else bail her out. Not even her parents, and certainly not Javier. 

“You don’t get to make that judgement for me.” He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as if she’d given him a headache. Then he went to the nightstand and turned on the lamp before taking a draw from the bottle of wine. “Show me.”

“Show you what?” 

“Your wounds. How are they healing?”

Now there was something she really didn’t want to do. They were ugly, made her ugly, and she couldn’t bear the thought of looking so disgusting in front of him, not when he’d just been with someone else, especially someone as beautiful as Isabella.

“They’re fine,” she mumbled. 

“Show me.”

She didn’t want to, but his expression frightened her. He looked upset and angry and sad and guilty all at once, and while she couldn’t fathom why he’d be feeling anything more than annoyance with her, she didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 

So she stood and began to fumble with the ribbon holding her robe together. Her hands were shaking.

Why the fuck are my hands shaking?

Javier stepped over to her then, his fingers taking over in untying it. Then he gently ran his hands up along the edges of the cloth, carefully slipping under the collar and pushing the fabric down. It fell off her shoulders to the floor with a quiet noise that sounded like a whisper.

She suddenly felt silly standing there in front of him in her cheap black lace. The edges of her burns peeked out beneath the gauze that she’d secured to her shoulder and hip, and all she wanted to do was grab her robe and put it back on, kick him out of her room, and down the rest of the wine in one fell swoop.

That was, until he took her face in his hands, tilting her chin up so she was looking him in the eyes.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Javier murmured.

She could see the faint imprint of lipstick on his neck and the sheen of sweat that remained on his chest and it made her heart wince again. He took his hands from her face and turned his attention back to her wounds, peeling the gauze back carefully. His brows furrowed as he took in the messy sight before him. 

The burns had turned a grisly yellow, crackling lines of black and red rimming the edges. A short line of four stitches cut through the center of each burn, the edges raised and puckered. 

“Jesus,” he gasped quietly. “How long did it take to get the bullets out?”

She shook her head. “They didn’t. Said they were too close to veins and arteries, that moving them would just make things worse.”

“So they’re still inside you?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded. His fingers traced across her shoulder and hip, staying far enough away from the wounds to not hurt, but enough to send goosebumps all across her body. Javier’s eyes studied her intensely. It made her pulse quicken. 

“Did they say whether or not we fucked it up with the cauterization? You didn’t get an infection, right?”

“They said I probably would’ve bled out otherwise. And no, they put me on antibiotics right away.”

Javier nodded and placed the gauze back over her wounds, gently securing the medical tape to her skin.

“Javi, I literally owe you my life,” she began, but he was already shaking his head.

“You don’t owe me anything. Don’t insult me by suggesting I wouldn’t do whatever I could to save you in that situation.” 

She was suddenly aware of how close they were standing. Of how close his face had gotten to hers. After finishing with her shoulder his fingertips hovered above her bandage for a moment before trailing down her arms, then to her waist, grazing along the top of her garter belt.

Neither of them said anything. Together they watched Javier’s hands, bodies drawn so close they were almost resting their foreheads against each other. His fingers made their way down to the tops of her thighs and back again, occasionally gripping her flesh as he began to run his palms up and down her body. 

Her left hand wound itself up across his shoulders and into his hair, her breath hitching in her throat. Javier dipped his head to rest against hers.

“I don’t know why I can’t help myself,” he whispered, pulling her closer to him. She whimpered slightly as her hip grazed his thigh. “I shouldn’t be doing this. Tell me to stop.”

“I don’t want you to.”

His palms ran over her breasts then, his breathing growing heavier as he circled his thumbs around her nipples through the thin fabric of her sheer bralette. The faintest of moans escaped her. It’d been so long since she’d enjoyed being touched, since her body wanted to get closer to someone, since she was drawn to touch someone in return. 

Her hands moved of their own accord, fingers latching onto his belt and working to undo it.

“We shouldn’t, not here,” he groaned, but he didn’t try to stop her either. “Not now.”

But she had already unzipped his jeans, reaching in to pull out his half-hard cock.

She tried her best to forget that he had just been inside Isabella as she began to stroke it, her thumb circling his tip each time her hand moved up it.

And then he was pushing her back up against the mattress and laying her down, his lips crashing against hers as he reached around her panties and plunged two fingers into her without hesitation. She gasped at his unexpected escalation, her tongue running along his bottom lip before kissing him in earnest.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” he whispered, pulling away to pepper her cheek and neck with kisses as he pumped his fingers in and out of her faster. “I thought I might not ever see you again.” He nipped at her throat. “I thought the worst might’ve happened.”

She continued to stroke him until his member was fully stiff and hot in her hand. He pulled his fingers out of her and took over, guiding his tip to rub against her from core to clit and back again. Then he sunk into her, moaning into the crook of her neck as his hands came to grip her ribs, fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust inside her. One hand hooked itself under her right knee and pushed her leg towards her chest to give him clearance to enter her all the way.

While her right shoulder prevented her from reaching up with both, she took his face in her left hand and ran her thumb over his jaw and cheek.

“I want you, Javi,” she moaned. “But I also want to stay away.” He took her hand from his face and interlaced their fingers before pushing her wrist into the mattress so hard it made her gasp. “But I don’t think I can anymore.”

“Good. Don’t you dare ever disappear on me again.”

He kissed her as slowly as he moved in and out of her, gentle and simmering with desperation and need.

It was different, this time.

Everything felt different.

[fireblaze5555]

Fire Away: Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Well I WIsh I Could Say That I’ve Never Been Here Before

Also on Ao3:  Fire Away: Chapter 9

Super emotional sexy times in this chapter.

--

The next day found them in an unfamiliar diner across town, Frank and Karen on one side, Matt and Foggy on the other. Karen fidgeted with her straw wrapper, trying not to look as nervous as she felt. When she glanced up she noticed Frank and Matt were having a ‘staring’ contest of sorts, both scowling deeply at the other. Foggy was trying to act casual but she could see tension in every inch of his face.  

Letting out a long suffering sigh, Karen snapped her hand down on the table bringing all eyes to her. “Listen, if you two want to make moon eyes at each other the entire time, that’s fine, Foggy and I can get another booth and discuss the situation.”

Matt had the decency to look a bit sheepish and Frank gave her what she was coming to understand as an apologetic look before he sat back in the booth to rest his arm behind her on the seat. When she looked over to Foggy, he was doing his best not to laugh, a smirk tugging at his lips. If it weren’t for his unease around Frank he would be outright laughing.

Matt cleared his throat, “You said you knew who was behind the attempts on your life?”

Karen opened her mouth to respond but Frank snorted before taking a quick drink of his coffee. His voice was casual but he was clearly antagonizing, “Yeah, Murdock, it’s someone who should be in the ground instead of a jail cell.”

Squeezing Frank’s knee under the table, Karen turned a withering glare at him. There was no apologetic look this time, he just shrugged and took a longer drink of his coffee. Matt, for his part, didn’t respond, just clenched his hands around his own coffee and kept his attention on Karen.

It was Foggy’s turn to jump in, his eyes wide with disbelief, “How is that even possible? He’s under constant surveillance and his contact is limited. Brett has been checking in personally to ensure that he isn’t getting special treatment like last time.”

Another sigh, this one defeated, escaped Karen before she answered, “Because he still has enough money and power to get around the justice system. We’ve slowed him down putting him behind bars but I think it was more just an inconvenience for him. What we have found over the past couple of weeks is that he was using me more as a diversion to distract from what he was trying to accomplish.” Karen launched into the particulars of what they had found, being sure to lower her voice whenever the waitress would return or other patrons strolled by. When she mentioned Vanessa being the outside link, Matt let out a quiet curse.

“Okay, so what is our plan then?” Foggy asked. Karen gave him an affectionate smile, he was all business now, whatever discomfort he had disintegrated when there was work to do.

“Well, for the legal side of things, the plan is giving you all of the information and evidence we have found and see what avenues you can find to legally sink her. However,” Karen drags her bottom lip through her teeth, “Some of the information we obtained...less legally? So you may not be able to use all of it in court if we get to that.” Matt scowled while Foggy raised an amused eyebrow at her.

“Ms. Page, we leave you to your own devices and suddenly you are an investigative reporter, PI and a hacker? I’m so impressed at how you keep gaining these valuable skills!” Foggy smiled teasingly at her while Karen shook her head at him, smiling herself.

“Don’t forget Counselor, she also has the ability to find trouble anywhere she goes and an incredible talent with sarcasm.” Frank spoke up, taking a bite of toast before smirking at Karen as she gaped at him.

Foggy let out a choking sound, sucking his cheeks in to hold in his laughter, “Man, he does know you Karen.” Matt was even smirking through his scowl.

“Shut up, all of you.” she grumbled but she couldn’t help but smirk, “ Anyway , that is the legal side of it. The less than legal side of it, we are going to go to Vanessa’s estate and I am going to talk to her about lifting the contract on my life.”

Matt tilted his head slightly, ‘When you say ‘we’...” his voice was the slightest bit strained with a hint of antagonism.

“Frank and I. You as well if you want to as long as you agree to go in as a team.” She did her best to ignore Matt’s tone. To his credit, Frank kept quiet and just sipped at his coffee but Karen could see everything he wanted to say, clear on his face.

“I really don’t think it’s necessary for Frank to be involved any longer. We don’t really need a murderer present to have a discussion with someone.” The antagonism was strong now.

Karen and Foggy simultaneously put their faces in their hands while Frank let out a scoff.

“Christ, you really are an alter boy all the way, huh?” Frank gave a cutting smile as he shook his head and then leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table, closer to Matt, “You can take your sanctimonious bullshit and shove it right up your ass, Red. They are after Karen, she’s the one that has done all the investigation, that means she gets to decide who is on her team. Not you. And if I have to choose between killing a shit bag and keeping Karen alive, you bet your ass I’ll take them out.”

“Yeah, well, she’s always had clouded judgement when it comes to you so maybe it shouldn’t be her call.” As soon as he finished speaking, Matt’s face scrunched up with regret. Foggy was looking at his friend, aghast, and Frank had sat back and was chuckling lowly. Karen was glaring so icily at Matt she was surprised he hadn’t started shivering.

Karen smacked Frank in the stomach with the back of her hand causing him to grunt and hunch over slightly before she leaned in towards Matt across from her. “I really hope I didn’t just hear you say that Matt because if we are going to talk about clouded judgement I can give you a whole list of shitty calls you have made.”

“Karen-”

“And for the record, this is why I didn’t come to you. Now, I’m going to be mature enough to pretend you didn’t just say that and get back to the plan. So you can keep your patronizing bullshit to yourself and just listen, got it?” Her voice brokered no argument and Matt, very smartly, just nodded.

Foggy looked between Frank, Matt and Karen before heaving a deep sigh, “Karen, not to agree too much with the idiot next to me but I don’t like the idea of being part of a plan where murder is an option.”

Frank clicked his tongue but didn’t say anything as Karen glared at him once more. “I know Foggy.” She paused to smile at the waitress as she dropped off Frank’s eggs and bacon and her own food of yogurt and fruit. She saw Frank eyeballing her plate but ignored him to respond to Foggy, “We have already discussed that. It looks like most of the personnel at her estate is a hired security company, not criminals so they won’t be killed.”

Matt gave a derisive snort that resulted in Foggy elbowing him sharply in the ribs before saying, “And what about the ones that are criminals?”

“As long as they don’t threaten Karen, I promise to be on my best behaviour Counselor.” Frank looked at her plate pointedly. “Is that all you got to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m not that hungry.” She murmured before she turned back to Foggy, “I’m going to do everything I can to ensure we talk to Vanessa with no casualties.” As she spoke, Karen saw Frank move two pieces of his bacon to her plate and bit her cheek to keep from smiling. When she turned her attention back to Foggy, he had been watching as well, there was a look of bewilderment on his face, like he couldn’t quite comprehend what he was seeing.

“Well, I guess that is all I can really ask at this point, I’m just glad you are back and safe. It is getting so boring at the office without you.” Foggy said.

Matt looked offended as Karen laughed, “Well, I hope to be back in the office by next week at the latest. I can only imagine what kind of disarray you left my desk in.”

They chatted over their food, mostly catching Karen up on things she’d had missed while she was gone, cases that had been completed, new cases on the docket and any ridiculous gossip that had been picked up at Josie’s. Matt jumped in every once in a while but he and Frank stayed silent for most of the meal after that.

Once the food was gone and everything had been discussed, they all stood to pay for their meals and go off in various directions to begin preparing for their respective parts of the plan. As she moved to the register, Karen felt Frank’s hand at the small of her back, a steady, reassuring weight as they waited for the person in front of them to finish up. She wondered if she would always be so aware of him, if every little touch would always feel so important and monumental. She hoped so.

Foggy took off first with a promise to dig into the files Karen planned on sending over as soon as he received them but first he had a coffee date with Marci that he couldn’t miss. With a tight hug for Karen and respectful nod to Frank he turned and made his way to the closest taxi.

Karen gave Matt a quick hug and promised to call later with an address and started to turn away but he grabbed her elbow before she got far. She could feel Frank tense behind her but he didn’t say anything. She looked expectantly at Matt.

“Karen, look, I-,” he sounded strained for a second and took a moment to collect his thoughts, “I’m sorry about earlier alright? I know you are capable of taking care of yourself and it was a real asshole thing for me to say.”

She raised her eyebrows, “Ya think?” She relented however, she knew it wasn’t an easy thing for Matt to be around Frank, especially since he could probably tell with his fancy superpowers that there was something going on between them. “I know, Matt, it’s okay. Just, try to have a little more faith in me, okay?”

Giving the hand he had on her arm a reassuring squeeze she attempted to leave again but Matt kept his grip firm. Oh for Chrissake, what now? She squared her shoulders, forcing him to drop his hand, and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for him to say what was obviously on his mind.

“Why don’t you come stay with me or Foggy?” Karen started to protest but he pressed on, “You said you were staying in some warehouse, that can’t be comfortable. We can finalize everything at my place and you’ll still be safe.”

“No.”

Matt looked at a loss, like the only real option was going with him and the fact that she refused was beyond comprehension.

“Why?” he asked.

Karen chewed on her bottom lip as she studied him for a second. She had the urge to shake him which was not unusual with Matt Murdock but she settled for a quiet, “You know why, Matt.” before turning to walk back to where Frank was waiting. She didn’t have to look at Frank’s face to know he was looking smugly at Matt and rolled her eyes when he slung an arm over her shoulder as they walked away. I’m going to hurt them both.

She gave him a sweet smile and then promptly pinched his side, causing him to step away quickly with a quiet curse.

“What the hell was that for?” he asked, rubbing the spot. He tried to sound angry but she heard the underlying amusement in his tone.

“You know why, Frank.”

They spent the day going over details and making sure they didn’t miss anything important. Karen had forwarded her files over to Foggy and had answered a couple calls from him for her input on clarifying some finer points.

Karen was pulled from her hundredth time of scanning the folder she put together by Frank beckoning to her.

“Hey, come over here for a sec.” He waved her over with one hand while the other was digging around in a container that appeared to be full of tactical gear. Pushing away from her computer with a long stretch, she made her way over to where he stood and watched him pull out a couple of bulletproof vests.

She raised an eyebrow at him but he just shrugged and stepped in front of her with one of them. He strapped her in with ease and went over the garment critically, checking how it fit and laid on her frame and said, “I’ll occasionally acquire them after finishing a job. I wanted to see if any of these fit you or if I am going to need to find one before tomorrow night.”

Karen looked down at herself as he tugged and shifted the garment and said skeptically, “Is this really necessary?”

Frank stopped what he was doing, two fingers tucked into the vest at her chest and gaped at her disbelievingly.

“Alright, alright it was just a question.” She gave a small laugh and let him maneuver her around to take the vest off.

He apparently wasn’t satisfied with the fit of that one because he tossed it back into the container before grabbing another and starting the process again. “To answer that question, you wouldn’t be going into that place without one. Maybe the guys working there aren’t criminals but they are there to do a job. If they see us as a threat, which I’m betting they will, they will probably take some shots so you need to have protection.”

He focused fully on the task at hand and seemed more pleased with the fit of this vest but she could see the worry creeping into his eyes, no doubt imagining all of the scenarios in which the plan could go wrong. Karen caught his hand checking the straps at her side and held it between hers, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.

“It’s going to be fine. We are just going there to talk, it’s not like we are facing down a psycho with a bomb or escaping through elevator shafts or anything.” Her gallows humor had the desired effect for a second, his lips quirking a bit at the corners.

It faded quickly though, his eyes going serious and grim, his voice solemn, “I know how quickly things can go wrong, normal one second and batshit crazy the next. People there with you one second and then gone the next.”

Karen’s heart gave a painful lurch and she felt her eyes start to prickle so she stepped into him quickly, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Thinking of everything Frank had lost always made her weepy and she didn’t want him to have to deal with her tears when he was the one who should be upset. She felt his arms settle around her shoulders and his head rested against hers and for a moment they just swayed together gently.

After a moment though, Frank stepped back, placed a soft kiss to her forehead and began to pull off the vest.

“This one fits pretty well, I think it will work well for tomorrow.” He placed it next to his, the emblazoned skull stark against the black material, which lay atop his selected arsenal for tomorrow. “Have you heard from the counselor? Got anything he can use?”

Karen sighed, “Yeah, there are a few things he would be able to use against her, some illegal trading and some potentially forfeit art but nothing as serious as I would like but it may be enough. At least to get them off my case.”

Frank nodded and she saw him thinking about his next question. Here we go. And she wasn’t disappointed.

“Have you heard from Murdock?”

“No”

“Have you contacted Murdock?”

“ No .” she answered a bit more curtly.

Frank held up a placating hand, “If he is going to be part of the plan, he needs to know where we are going.”

He was right of course but she was still a little annoyed at both of them. “I’ll text him the address and where we intend to meet. You sure you two are okay to work together? You seem like you would rather glare and bitch at each other.”

Frank scoffed, “Red’s a pain in the ass but he isn’t a bad ally to have on your side. If he could just stop being so preachy, we would get along just fine.”

Karen shook her head with a small smile, “You’re not wrong, I suppose. On the flip side, I’m sure he thinks if you were less murdery you’d get along just fine.”

He gave her a wry grin, “I guess neither one of us are going to get what we want, huh?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, walking away from him to go back to her task, “No, I guess not.”

-----

Frank watched Karen go back to her desk to pour over everything again. Nothing will have changed since the last time she looked but he knew it was a good distraction for her. In the meantime he needed to make sure he had all the gear he needed and was ready himself. He still didn’t like the idea that not only was Karen going into the den of the enemy but he had to also attempt to get her in and out without any fatalities. As much as Murdock annoyed him, Frank was glad he would be there as well, it would allow him to focus more fully on Karen’s safety.

Sitting across the room, Frank began running through his mental checklist, he wanted to have time to hunt down any needed supplies before go-time. This was a top priority mission with very precious cargo and he was not going to fuck it up. Every mission or war he had waged over the past several months was nowhere near as important as the one he was preparing for, failure was not an option.

He’d need to pick up some more ammo for his .45, realistically he probably had enough but he’d rather be over prepared. Frank glanced up when he heard a thoughtful noise from Karen, a detail catching her attention. He watched as she buried long graceful fingers into the pale spun gold of her hair with one hand, while the other skimmed the document, occasionally tapping out a rhythm on the table. For a second he was transported to the previous night, those long locks sliding between his fingers while she was on her knees in front of him. Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip as she worked and Frank couldn’t help but watch the slide of her tongue when she wet her lips.

When he realized he was outright staring at her he shook his head and went back to the task at hand. For God’s sake he was acting like a horny, head over heels teenager. First that little dominance stunt he pulled with Murdock, huffing out a laugh he rubbed the spot Karen had pinched him, and now he was ogling her while she worked. It was amazing how fast the switch was flipped in his mind of him thinking of Karen as his. He really needed to get a grip. Frank still wasn’t sure he made the right call, agreeing to give a relationship a shot. He was still dangerous to be around and the thought of him bringing even more danger to Karen’s life made him nauseous. The thing was, it was obvious that Karen would be in trouble at some point whether he was there or not and the thought of him not being there to help her also made him nauseous.

Maybe it was a bad idea….but god he wanted it. He could pretend he was alright with the solitude and all the nights alone but that delusion was quickly fading. The past couple of weeks, waking up with someone in bed next to him again, was like a breath of fresh air he didn’t know he needed. Like an ache in his joints he wasn’t aware of until they were gone. Even cramped on the little cot with Karen who was just as tall as him and threw a mean elbow in her sleep, was the most comfortable he had been...well, since Maria. The feeling of waking up to Karen’s softness and warmth, her smile and morning quips, was like a drug and the mere thought of going back to the way things were had him feeling like he was going through withdrawals.

It didn’t really do any good to debate it with himself at this point, he had told Karen he would give it a shot and wouldn’t lie to her. So they would take care of the issue at hand and then he would man up and keep his word. However, if it looked like he was bringing too much danger into her life, he was gone, no questions asked. Well, probably anyway. He had a feeling Karen Page was becoming a major guiding force in his life and he may not have a choice on if he goes or stays.

Shaking his head, Frank ran through the remainder of his list and decided to grab some more ammo for Karen’s .380 while he was at it. He set everything back in place and stood, rolling his shoulders back to work out the knots and headed over to grab a jacket and pull on his boots. When he stood from lacing them up he noticed Karen was watching him.

“I’m going to go pick up some ammo and dinner. Anything sound good to you?”

She hummed, eyeing him with a hunger that had nothing to do with food and he felt desire hit him hard in the gut. Before he could begin to make his way across the room though, she gave him a coy smile, her voice mischievous, “Japanese sounds good. Some sushi? Maybe Katsudon if they have it, yakisoba if they don’t?”

Raising an eyebrow at her, he turned to pull the jacket on. “Japanese it is. I’ll be back soon, I’ll text you before I come in so you know it’s me. Keep an eye on the cameras and call me if anything looks out of the ordinary.” She nodded along as he spoke, turning back to her work but he said her name softly, it brought her attention back to him quickly. Frank gave a little smirk, “Stop being a stubborn ass and text Murdock the information.”

He stepped around the closest object to dodge the pencil that had been lobbed at him and made his way to the exit. He didn’t care one way or the other if Murdock actually accompanied them, it would be helpful sure, but they would be fine without him. However, he knew it was important to Karen to keep her friends in the loop, a pact they had made she didn’t want to break.

The air was chilly when he stepped out into the dusk, heading in the direction of the subway, he needed to go a ways to get to the shop he was wanting. He walked quickly, eyeing his surroundings casually and jumping on the train just before the doors closed. It took about 15 minutes to get to his stop and he emerged onto the street about another 10 minutes walk from his destination.

Frank was nearly there when he felt the prickle on the back of his neck so he stepped into the next alleyway and kept his hand ready to reach for the gun at his hip. However, only one person he knows could land that softly out of nowhere so he wasn’t surprised when he turned to see Murdock frowning at him from behind his mask.

“Evening, Red.”

Murdock gave a small nod and a quiet, “Frank.” Before resuming his pensive silence.

Frank waited another minute before shifting impatiently, “Did ya have somethin’ you wanted to say or….? I kinda have some errands to run and a hungry private investigator waiting for me. I have a fair idea of how grumpy she can be when hungry and would like to avoid that if I can.”

Matt’s face turned a bit more sour, his stance stiffening even more. “She shouldn’t be there. She should be somewhere safe. Somewhere away from you.”

Letting out a long suffering sigh, Frank tucked his hands deep into his pockets and balled them into fists. “You’re not entirely wrong Red but the fact of the matter is that is where she decided to be and you of all people should know that telling her to do something else would not go well.”

The other man gave a begrudging nod but didn’t look put at ease. When he spoke again he had his lawyer facade on, trying to dig for information, “What exactly is your relationship with Karen?”

Frank went still, his eyes narrowing at the other man and said nothing. It wasn’t any of Murdock’s business and Frank was pretty sure he knew already.

“I could smell you on her, at the diner.” His voice was accusatory.

“Well that is officially the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me, Red. Also the creepiest.” A very immature, alpha male part of his brain swelled with pride at the knowledge that there was no mistaking that Karen had chosen to be with him. He nearly chuckled when he thought of how quickly she would put him in his place if she knew he was thinking like that. “What does it matter to you anyway?”

“You know why it matters Frank. You are still killing, making enemies and starting wars. Karen deserves better than that. Better than you.”

“You’re not wrong there either.” Frank closed the distance between them, bringing them toe to toe, his voice dropped low, a mix of building anger and antagonism, “Is that the only reason, Murdock?  I remember seeing you two back then, holding hands, standing close. How she watched you with so much admiration in the courtroom, when you showed up, that is. Now, she doesn’t want to stay with you, despite being in danger. So is it really that you want to protect Karen or is it that your ego can’t take the fact that you royally fucked up and lost a beautiful, intelligent, brave and loyal woman? To a murderer no less. ”

Matt snarled muscles tensing as though preparing for a fight but Frank’s phone chimed alerting him to a message. His adrenaline spiked, brain always going to the worst case scenario first and Matt must have picked up on it because he took half a step back. Pulling the phone out of his pocket, Frank relaxed when he read the message.

“Shrimp Shumai as well, please. Don’t forget chopsticks, I don’t trust the silverware you have here not to give me tetanus.”

Frank shook his head with a smirk, tapping back a quick ‘Yes, Ma’am’, before tucking the phone in his pocket again. Matt’s head was tilted to listen and his features had relaxed from anger and disgust to mild annoyance and disbelief.

“I don’t deserve her, Murdock, you’re right about that. The problem is, I’ve pushed her away time and time again and we just keep endin’ up back in each other’s space. I’ll never argue with you that Karen Page is too good for me but she asked me to give this a chance and goddamn it, I owe it to her to try. I know I’m one lucky motherfucker that she chose me of all people, you don’t have to tell me.”

Matt looked downright defeated, “You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

Clicking his tongue and stepping around the other man, Frank walked back towards the main sidewalk, “I ain’t even talked to her about that Red so I’ll be damned if I talk to you about it. Check your phone, she should be sending you the information for tomorrow night.” With that, he stepped around the corner and walked the remaining few blocks to the gun store. He did love Karen, but now he was wondering if love encompassed everything he felt for her. Frank was starting to feel complete in a way he hadn’t since he still had his family. That large piece of his life would always be missing, god he missed them every second of every day, but Karen was becoming the glue that held the rest of his pieces together. His air when he was suffocating. The stones in his foundation when it started to crumble. Love was only a part of the things he felt for Karen Page.

It was another hour and a half before he had the ammo and food in hand, heading back to the safe house. He texted Karen to alert her that he would be there soon and when he stepped through the door and into the living area of the building, she was right where he had left her.

“Welcome back, took you long enough.” She barely turned from the papers but he saw the teasing lilt to her lips anyway.

“The lady wanted shrimp shumai, the only place to get shumai in this city is Mei’s so I had to go a little out of my way to get it.” Frank set the food down at the table and plucked the container with the shumai out of the bag. He walked over to Karen, popping the lid open to waft the delicious smelling steam in her direction, enticing her to leave the desk.

Karen let out an appreciative groan at the smell, pushing her chair back and following closely behind him. She settled down at the table and pointed at him accusingly with the chopsticks Frank handed her, “I know of at least three places to get shumai and I know at least one of them was pretty close to where you were going.”

“Yes but the only place you should get shumai from is Mei’s.” His voice was deep with conviction when he pointed his chopsticks right back at her.

Karen barked out a quick laugh, “Unbelievable, a burger snob, a coffee snob AND a Japanese cuisine snob. The surprises keep coming.” However, when she took a bite of the first morsel, her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head with pleasure. She snapped her eyes to his quickly to see if he caught her, which of course he did, with a knowing, smug smirk. “Alright, you win this one Castle.”

Frank thought about mentioning the fact he ran into Murdock but she would want to know what they discussed and he wasn’t sure he was ready to go down the rabbit hole just yet. So instead they talked about their favorite places for asian food and occasionally discussed details of tomorrow’s mission. Thankfully she mentioned she had texted the information to Murdock so he didn’t have to bring it up again.

Once they were full and leftovers were packed away in the small fridge, it was time to call David and ensure that everything on his end was set as well. The phone rang a couple of times before he answered.

“ Hello friends! Ready to talk super spy stuff and breaking and entering?” His voice was cheerful and already grating on Frank’s nerves.

“Cut the shit, David. You got everything you need?”

“ I want to talk to Karen. She’s nicer than you.” There was an unmistakable pout in his voice.

“David…” Frank growled. Karen hid a laugh behind her hand. He gave her a pleading ‘don’t encourage him’ look and turned his attention back to the phone.

“... And prettier. Fine. Yes, everything is in order. I’ll walk you through setting up the comm pieces tonight so all you have to do tomorrow is turn them on and double check the frequency. There haven’t been any changes to the personnel schedule and the layout of the house hasn’t changed over the past two days.”

Over the next hour they activated and synced up their comms, checking for any bugs, and outlined the time frame they hoped to maintain for getting in and out.

“ Hey, uh, I noticed you only requested the two ear pieces, was there a change of plan? Daredevil no longer assisting?”

“No change of plan. He won’t need an earpiece, he will be able to hear just fine.” Karen’s voice was one of begrudging acceptance.

“ Okay then, well, then I think we’ve done everything we can for today. I’ll be in touch tomorrow at 10. Now, I need to go to dinner or I have the real potential of sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Without preamble, the line went dead, the screen of the phone flashing the call time for just a moment before going dark.

Karen gave a little snort, “What an interesting change of events, usually it’s you hanging up on him.”

“I guess the prospect of sleeping on the couch is more motivating than getting on my damn nerves.” Frank said gruffly as he put the phone on charge next to the comm equipment. When he looked back at Karen, she had an unreadable look on her face.

“What?” he asked.

“If he bothers you that much, why do you keep in touch? I know he is an incredible hacker but you are crafty and would be able to figure something else out.” Karen asked, leaning on the table and regarding him curiously.

Frank gave a deep sigh. David did endlessly wear on his nerves but he cared for the man and his family. “David just...doesn’t know when to shut up. That being said, he’s a good guy. He’s reliable and a good person.” When he looked over there was a smug look on Karen’s face and he felt like he just walked into a trap.

“So...you care about him? Behind all the mean words and mask of indifference he’s your friend.” She looked so proud of herself, blue eyes sparkling and her head tilted as she watched him.

Frank shook his head turning away from her, “ Christ . You're just as bad as he is. I’m takin’ a shower.” He could feel her eyes following him as he grabbed a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. She wasn’t wrong, he did care about David and his family. Very much in fact, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud. It could make it back to David and Frank would never have peace again.

The hot water was doing wonders for his knotted muscles. Preparing for tomorrow had left him anxious and processing his feelings for Karen furthered that anxiety because he knew how easy it was for things to go wrong. He could lose her tomorrow and it had him on edge all day. It would be his luck that he would finally accept what he feels for Karen, just for it to be taken away immediately. If it were just him going in he would be unaffected, if he got injured or killed it will have been worth it to keep her safe. But Karen was going to be with him, just as close to danger as he would be.

The shifty plumbing gave a groan and sputtered a quick deluge of ice water over him before going back to hot so he finished washing off quickly before he got another rude surprise.

He found as he stepped out of the shower he was more tired than he thought, his muscles finally loosened a bit so he didn’t feel quite so much like a spring that was wound too tight. However, as he tossed his towel over the curtain rod of the shower, Frank gave a quiet curse as his brain started sprinting down the same roads it had been running all day. Just that quick he felt his shoulders drawing back up towards his ears, muscles coiling and ready to fight. Christ he couldn’t wait for this to be over so he could be the normal amount of anxious over Karen’s well being. Throwing on some boxer briefs and low slung sweatpants he made to leave the cramped room.

A small cloud of steam followed him out of the bathroom before Frank started toward the cot. Karen was already laid down with one of his books open in her hand as she sprawled over their makeshift bed. Suddenly, Frank felt like he had been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer and his coiled muscles were prepared for an entirely new action.

Karen had grabbed one of his shirts to wear to bed, something that would have been enough to turn him on in general but due to their similar height the shirt just barely brushed the tops of her thighs. Frank’s gaze traveled from the tips of her toes up her impossibly long legs and fixated on the spot where the shirt had ridden up, exposing a hip bone where the thin black strap of her underwear contrasted exquisitely with her creamy skin. He could just glimpse the curve of her perfectly shaped ass the way she was laying but it was enough to spark something in him. Frank was suddenly a man starved. Hyperfocus that he tends to save for the battlefield is now fixated on the woman just across the room from him to the point everything else blurs and she is the only thing in focus.

Karen must feel his gaze on her because she lowers the book a fraction to meet his eyes. He sees her breath catch and her eyes widen when their gazes lock. Carefully she sets the book aside, her eyes leaving his to slowly drag down his body. Frank felt his temperature spike when he watched her hungrily take him in, her pupils blowing wide and her bottom lip unconsciously pulling between her teeth. It amazed him how expressive Karen was with just that bottom lip.

“I, um, ran out of comfortable sleeping clothes so I borrowed one of your shirts. I hope that is okay?” Her voice was small, uncertain. If Frank were more stable at the moment, he would feel guilty that she would feel so unsure about taking what she needed from him. Of course he didn’t mind, in fact, he would encourage it any chance he got.

When he didn’t answer, Karen looked even more unsure, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have presumed. I can grab one of my old-” She began to wrap long fingers around the hem as though she were going to pull the shirt off.

“Don’t. Move.” The words came out commanding, a simmering heat in his voice that was deep and full of gravel, his desire filling the words with a thousand promises. Karen froze at the order and when she drew that damned bottom lip between her teeth again and he saw the full body shiver of her reacting to him, Frank couldn’t stop himself from crossing the room. He moved steadily, long, methodical strides that had him at the foot of the cot quickly.

From this new vantage point he could see the pretty blush starting across her cheeks and down her neck to disappear under the shirt at her collarbone. She was perfection. Slowly, he placed a knee on the bottom corner of the bed, Karen watching his every move with rapt attention.

Another full body shiver ran through her when he caressed her ankles with hands he could no longer keep idle. There was a growl that he belatedly realized came from him before he was bent over, dragging teeth over the exposed flesh of her hip, the breathy noise Karen released spurring his actions. Frank’s hands slid up the smooth backs of her thighs that now bracketed his chest until he had two glorious handfuls of her ass.

“ Frank.” Fuck, the way she said his name. She had a way of putting everything into those five letters, all breathy want and desire. He was so hard it almost hurt, the need to be inside her so strong Frank was almost delirious from it. He snapped his eyes up to hers from his spot at her hip, where he continued to drag his tongue along her skin, nipping and sucking at her where he saw fit. He followed her panty line, nudging the shirt out of the way as he went. Karen’s eyes never left his but the air caught in her chest when his hands slid around to grip her underwear as he continued to cover her skin with pink marks.

He could smell her and god, she smelled sweet. Frank let out a small sound of need and began tugging away the barrier between them. He had reached her other hipbone, nipping the soft skin there before sitting back to fully remove her underwear and then she was gloriously bare to him, only his shirt bunched up around her midsection. He took a moment to take her in, lips glistening with arousal and a blush spreading over her inner thighs. It was his turn to pull his bottom lip through his teeth, taking a moment to decide where he wanted to start. Leaning down again, Frank tucked his arms under Karen’s thighs, wrapping them around the outside so his hands were at her hips to get a good grip and tugged her roughly to the edge of the cot.

She let out a little yelp in surprise and when Frank looked at her again, the shirt had rucked up around her chest when he scooted her down. Her graceful arms were above her head where they had settled after her startled movement. She was a fucking sight. Frank knelt on the cold concrete floor and settled her legs over his shoulders, moving slowly and deliberately, his entire focus on devouring the woman in front of him.

Giving an appreciative groan, Frank leaned in, dragging a kiss over Karen’s inner thigh before switching to the other leg. Next, he ran his tongue up the crease of her leg, mere centimeters from his destination. Karen’s hips were beginning to sway towards his mouth, rising and falling with each tempting swipe of his mischievous tongue.

As he was laving a slow kiss to the top of her mound Karen gave a quiet curse causing Frank to glance up at her with a devastating smirk.

“Something wrong Ma’am?” his voice was impossibly deep and rough.

She reacted like his voice was a physical touch, closing her eyes and shivering before she looked at him again, the blue of her irises dark with her need, voice husky with restrained desire. “If you don’t touch me soon Frank I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

His answering chuckle was rich and dark and it vibrated through every spot their bodies were connected. What Karen didn’t know was he was torturing himself as much as he was her, every fiber of his being screaming to do more, to drive her crazy, make her scream for him. Frank finally relented, giving a slow languid lick to her center, just barely parting her folds. Both let out a groan and before Frank could convince himself to keep the pace slow, he was drinking her in like he’d not had water in years.

There was longer any finesse to his movements, lewd noises filling the room as he licked and sucked at her, letting out appreciative growls and grunts as she moved under him. Fuck she tasted good, her breathless moans and little curses, her beautiful lips saying his name when he pressed just right, all driving him mad with need. When Frank opened his eyes he let out a long low groan at the sight. Karen was gripping the blankets above her head with one hand so tight her knuckles were white, her eyes screwed shut while her mouth was open and panting. Her other hand had pushed the shirt over her breasts and was tweaking a nipple in time with the firm strokes of his tongue.

It was all too much, he needed to be in her, and soon. Never taking his eyes off of her, Frank closed his full lips over her clit and gave it a hard suck. Karen’s back arched off the cot prettily and her breathing stalled. Lifting her hips slightly he did again before quickly dragging a firm tongue over repeatedly. It only took two more strokes before she went completely rigid, a keening moan the only sound she was able to make.

Frank softened his ministrations, licking at her softly until her hand snaked into his hair to tug him away gently. He pulled just enough to nip her thigh before he rested his cheek there and looked up at her. She was gloriously disheveled, chest still rising rapidly with each breath, lips parted and eyes glassy and distant as she came down from her high.

Slowly, Karen came back to herself and she gave him a devastating little smile, her voice throaty and sated, though he saw the hunger building in her gaze again, “Goddamn, Castle. You’ve been hiding your finer skill sets from me.”

He gave a quiet laugh, trying to not let his pride show too much on his face, “Happy to be of service, ma’am.”

Slowly he stood, tugging at the drawstring of his sweatpants as he did, Karen watching the movement with intense focus. Frank slid pants and underwear off in a smooth movement before he started to crawl after Karen as she scooted back up the cot. Working together, his shirt was peeled up and over her head to be discarded somewhere on the floor.T hey didn’t have much room on the small bed but neither seemed to mind as he settled between her thighs and their lips met. The kiss was slow and dragging, tongues sliding together deliciously and little gasps escaping when they drew back long enough to change their angles.

Frank’s arm had traveled up to bury a large hand in her hair, something he found was quickly becoming one of his favorite things to do, his forearm bracing the side of her face as he continued to ravage her mouth. Slowly, he began to grind his cock against her core, dragging it through her folds torturously. Her hips met him at every thrust and finally, finally , he let himself sink into her.

All he could do for a moment was rest his forehead to hers, his hips stilling when he sank to the hilt, tightening his grip in her hair when she groaned and nipped at his chin. Being inside Karen was intoxicating and Frank was dizzy with pleasure that coursed through his system. He was so fucking lost on her, there was no way he could ever recover.

Frank leaned his head back enough to watch her eyes as he slowly pulled almost completely out of her before unhurriedly sliding back into place. Her gaze never left his, though her eyes were hooded, and he saw raw emotion staring back at him. For a moment it was overwhelming so Frank focused on the leisurely push and pull of his hips, his chest tight with everything he felt. They continued like that for several moments, quiet gasps and moans punctuating the easy rhythm that Frank set. Occasionally he would break eye contact to lick and suck at her neck, Karen dragging her hands up his back to hook over his shoulders, nipping at whatever skin was presented to her, a bicep, shoulder, the underside of his jaw. He could feel her starting to tense under him, her body straining towards release. He was working steadily towards his own orgasm, the burning pleasure spreading down his spine.

When Frank pulled back to look her in the eyes again the breath stilled in his chest. There was a trail of silent tears seeping from Karen’s eyes as she looked back at him. The hand in her hair dropped to her cheek to swipe the tears away tenderly. He hated to see her cry but it made him feel better to know she was feeling just as intensely as he was and when he spoke his voice was wrecked with the struggle to keep his own emotions in check, “What do you need?”

“Just...” she let out a shuddering breath and brought her hands to the back of his head, sliding blunt nails over his scalp, “Just don’t let go.”

A hungry desperate noise escaped from the back of his throat before he descended on her mouth. The kiss was slow but frantic, a desperation filling both of them. The hand on Karen’s cheek dropped to the side of her neck and the arm that propped him over her buried fingers into her silken hair. Frank’s thrusts sped up but they were still deliberate, grinding into her at the end of each stroke. That’s how they both came apart, her hands at the back of his head and neck, him not far behind with his own hands buried in her hair. Both of them holding on with both hands. Karen came, gasping his name in between quiet sobs and Frank came with a shuddering moan, pressing her name and kisses into the delicate skin of her temple.

For a moment they both were still, Frank was trying desperately to recover his composure and he felt Karen trying to do the same. When he did lean back again, swiping a gentle hand over her forehead to move damp hair out of her face she gave him a watery smile and he couldn’t help but return it.

Sniffing quietly, her smile turned sheepish, “I promise I’m not usually a crier during sex. I uh...just got a little overwhelmed, I think.”

Frank huffed out a little laugh, stroking a thumb over her cheekbone but before he could think of something to say, her hand came up to rest on his cheek, her eyes on him with a singular focus that wouldn’t allow him to look away.

“I love you, Frank Castle.” Karen’s voice was quiet and sincere, her eyes were watery once again but her gaze dared him to refute her.

Frank felt everything around him spin and then go completely still all at once before he drew in a quick breath and suddenly his chest was light, like a band that had been wrapped there just snapped. He was still terrified at the prospect of being loved, of loving again but looking at her, daring him to deny her, he felt like it might be worth it.

“I love you too, Karen Page.” Rough and low, the words felt so natural he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t said them before.

Just like that, the bravado left her and tears were escaping the corners of Karen’s eyes again, a smile so sweet on her lips he ached just looking at her. He leaned down to give her a tender kiss, her lips trembling lightly under his. Tsking, Frank rolled gently to the side, pulling her into his chest, banding protective arms around her, “You keep crying like that, Page, and you’re going to give me a complex.”

She gave a little laugh, thick with tears and swiped at her cheeks, “Sorry, Frank, I’ll try to keep the tears to a minimum next time. Promise.”

Humming, he placed a gentle kiss to her forehead.They lay quietly like that for awhile, both awake and lost in their own thoughts. Karen was running absent minded fingers over the smooth planes of his chest while his thumb ran soothing circles over her shoulder. Eventually he felt her relaxing against him, her breathing turning deep and even. Frank could feel his own eyes falling shut, heavy as lead as he listened to her breathe. He wanted to think a bit more, run the plan through his head again before giving in to sleep, think about the monumental words Karen and he had just spoken to one another but before he could try he was snoring quietly against her forehead and neither of them moved until morning.

[elixir448]

This past week: a summary

1. The season 3 trailer dropped and boy, oh boy...the fandom’s a mess:

• It looks like the girls plan to print a shit-load of counterfeit cash and do one big run to wash it. Welp. That's going to go badly wrong...it's not like Beth is going to want to stop anytime soon.

• Beth's wardrobe continues to look better than last season. Especially those slightly oversized sweaters. And her hair continues to impress, which has been a controversial topic. It's definitely not as good as her season 1 hair but it looks like an improvement from season 2?

• Dean appears to call the girls out on their criminal activity.

• We get a shot of multiple guns (four in the image) laid out in a row, next to ammunition; this is followed by a shot of a black van pulling up with the doors opening and a man gagged and being held hostage presumably, but not necessarily, by the girls.

• Annie provides us with a much needed laugh and kidnaps Lucy’s bird! (”Class II with an animal.”)

• Beth appears to be in the midst of wrapping up furniture in the house. Home renovation time mayhaps?

• Beth sees a man rising from the picnic bench in her backyard. It appears to be one of Rio’s men, played by the actor Carlos Aviles, who last appeared in season 1. She’s holding a black bag, potentially containing washed cash?

• Ruby shows an image of her two children to an unseen person in a store with guitars and other random knick-knacks. 

• We were provided with out first glimpse of Agent Turner, armed and surrounded by his FBI colleagues. It looks like there’s an ICE van in the background too.

• Beth and Dean share a kiss, while Beth wears the infamous floral shirt she wore while opening the envelope containing the Dubby returned to be her by Rio (2x07) and during the 20 questions game (2x11). Chaos is a ladder! Even while returning the kiss hesitantly, Rio’s presence looms over the scene.

• The girls enter a graveyard with spades. A little innocent grave-robbing never did any harm!

• Beth opens the door to a mysterious “guest”, while Dean stands in the foyer. “That’s the thing about this gig. Just when you think you’re finished, something new pops up.”

• The girls appear to be visting a grave or a memorial at the very end of the trailer, with Ruby commenting “He lost his life”, followed by Annie pouring her coffee on the “victim’s” grave. Could we see the end of Boomer this season? Or another despised character?

2. The first look at season 3 dropped yesterday!!!

• We got a glimpse of Rio in season 3 (the fandom is collectively 100% sure that this is a new shot). Looks like he's standing in Beth's bedroom, or at least her house. I mean, who else would he be looking at with that expression on his face?

• The music featured in the season 3 first look remains a mystery.

• Charlyne Yi has amazing skin! Mae has amazing skin! Christina, Retta and Manny all have amazing skin! I'm so jelly right now over here with my drying lotion.

3. The BTS of the promo shot in the money room was released. Retta acknowledged how difficult this hiatus has been for us! What a queen.

4. NBC universal interviews:

• Manny confirms that Rio is indeed alive (we didn't need the confirmation but it's just nice to hear him say it haha) and that Rio and Beth will be forced to work together this season.

• Reno and Matthew give relationship advice and continue to be adorable beans.

• Don't forget this welcome news from NBC universal a few weeks ago. Maybe we won't have to worry as much about ratings this season as we did last season before the show was renewed!

5. Manny has had his own photoshoot to promote his character and the show. Eagerly awaiting the release of those pictures!

6. NBC released an official plot synopsis for 3x01 (”Find Your Beach”:

“Beth makes a new friend while struggling to process her guilt over Rio’s death. Meanwhile, the women perfect their latest business venture just as Agent Turner and his surprising informant complicate their plans to launch.”

7. The trailer and first episode of ‘The Influence of Good Girls’ dropped:

• Megan Thee Stallion reveals that her character’s name is Onyx, confirming that she works where Stan works; her character will be a “little rule-breaker. She’s doing things she has no business doing.”

• There will be two further episodes, one titled ‘The Crime King”, featuring Manny Montana, and the other titled “The Perfect Heist’.

8. The fandom continues to eagerly await carpool karaoke with Christina, Retta and Mae.

9. Retta and Reno have done a number of interviews promoting the show recently:

• A clip was featured in one of the interviews; Ruby appears unhappy with Stan’s long working hours at the strip club he now works at.

• The BUILD interviewer acknowledged Beth and Stan’s importance in Ruby’s life. Reno dropped a juicy piece and said that “as things go down”, the audience will get to see how Stan feels about Beth.

• According to Reno and Retta, the funniest person on set is Danny boy Jr, the actor who plays their son.

• Retta said that the girls are going to be a more cohesive unit this season, as they face outside threats.

10.The NBC Good Girls marketing team dropped a 43 minute long video compiled of the vast majority, but not every, car scene from the past two seasons. 

[wallgirl]

La Squadra - Trailer Park Boys

1400 words, some harsh language, nothing worse

@moody-blues-requiem Here ya go

               Risotto awoke to the sound of violins blaring into his ear. With a groan, he dragged a sweaty hand over his face and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. The time was 11:02 AM, and somebody had changed his alarm tone from Master of Puppets to Thong Song. “Goddammit, Melone,” he groaned as Sisqo launched into the second verse. He shut the alarm off and threw his phone down onto the worn comforter, stretching his arms and reaching for his wife-beater that he’d discarded onto the floor the night before. Pulling it brusquely over his head, he got up to push the dusty blinds aside and look out into the yard.

               The bedroom window overlooked an area where three trailer lots met, meaning there were tons of grass growing along the property lines that no one bothered to mow and discarded beer cans and golf balls no one bothered to claim. That was, until Ghiaccio got around to bitching at them. He’d been doing a lot of that lately, since the summer heat was in full swing. No one hated the hot weather more than Ghiaccio. In the distance, a dog started barking viciously. A familiar voice – Formaggio? – sounded from somewhere nearby outside. “Shut up, Biggie!”

               Risotto stepped out of the dark bedroom and into the combined living and kitchen area of the trailer, taking care to avoid a plastic bag lying on the ground that had splatters of God-knows-what on it. Prosciutto was standing at the kitchen island, rollers in his hair and wrapped in a tattered blue bathrobe, mixing himself a drink.

               “You’re up late,” Prosciutto commented as he poured vodka into the plastic cup and added a maraschino cherry.

               “Melone messed with my alarm again.” Risotto rubbed his eyes, and as an afterthought, added, “I’m gonna kick his ass one of these days.”

               “You and me both,” Prosciutto snorted, taking a quick swig of the vodka before continuing to pour more into the cup. “You look like you’re in a hurry.”

               “Me, Sorbet, and Gelato have to head over to Carne’s today to take a look at his A/C,” Risotto said, grabbing a pitcher of orange juice from the fridge. He checked the expiration date and reconsidered, dropping it unceremoniously into the trash can nearby. “We’re late.”

               “That sounds like fun,” a second voice chirped. Illuso strode out from the second bedroom, pulling on his daisy-dukes and wiggling his hips. Risotto caught an eyeful of one stubbly ass-cheek hanging halfway out and groaned, turning his face away.

               “Like them?” Illuso teased with a smirk, slapping his butt to make it jiggle a bit. “I bleached and cut them myself, you know.”

               “And where the hell might you be going dressed like that?” Prosciutto asked, lip curled in disgust.

               “To the beach. It’s hot as hell outside, and Trish asked me if I wanted to go prowl and get ice cream.”

               Prosciutto spat his vodka out. “Trish?”

               Risotto’s eyes widened. “Why are you…?”

               “Hey, didn’t you say we should be getting friendly with her to get on the Boss’s good graces?” Illuso quipped, checking his eyebrows with a compact that he slipped into his back pocket. “Guess I’ll be doing the heavy-lifting. The rest of you creep her the hell out.”

               “Oh, and nobody’s gonna think you’re a creep going out like that,” Prosciutto hissed, glaring pointedly at Illuso’s rear-end.

               “I’m done here,” Risotto said flatly, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge instead and stepping out onto the front porch to light up a cigarette.

               In the gravel drive that made up most of the front yard, two men squatted next to a stripped-down riding lawnmower. Tools and greasy rags were spread out next to them, and a compact radio on the bottom front step fizzled out the day’s forecast. “High of 92 today, cooling down to a low of 73 by midnight,” the forecaster trilled. “Coming up, we’ll be playing Sugar Ray’s 1999 hit-“

               Risotto reached down abruptly and snapped the radio off. One of the men, wearing ripped jeans with the cuffs rolled up and a stained crop top knotted in the front, looked up. “Hey! You can’t turn off Sugar Ray on me.”

               “If you mess with my alarm again Melone, you’re a dead man.”

               “Geez,” Melone sighed, stretching his back and pulling at the knot in his shirt. “This heat might beat you to it, Risotto. But please, mind your language around the newest member to our family.” He rested a hand on the lawnmower.

               The man next to him smiled and pulled off his worn camo vest, using it to mop his forehead before tossing it away onto the gravel. “Way to put Risotto in a great mood, Melone.”

               “Don’t encourage him, Formaggio,” Risotto huffed.

               “Oh, I’m not, though I won’t pretend like I don’t get a kick out of it.”

               “Enough bullshitting. Have either of you seen Sorbet and Gelato?”

               Formaggio rose his eyebrows. “They didn’t come back last night?”

               “No. They said they were going to Denny’s. Haven’t heard from them since.”

               Melone slapped his cheek dramatically, leaving a grease smudge. “Oh, that’s right! They called last night. It was your phone, too. Happened while I was fucking with your alarm. They said they got arrested for starting some fight at the Dollar General down the road from Denny’s. They need you to bail them out.”

               Formaggio made a ‘yikes’ face and inched subtly away from Risotto, who had become a towering pillar of seething rage.

               “They called… and you never told me…?” He hissed, face dark with anger.

               “Well, it was like 2 AM,” Melone explained in all seriousness.

               Silence.

               “They didn’t even say ‘please,’” Melone added.

                Risotto’s sour expression didn’t change. Not one wrinkle.

               “Oh, come on, Risotto, you were bitching just last week about leaving them to sit for a few days if they got hauled in again,” Formaggio snorted. Risotto’s gaze slid away, conceding.

               “Hand me that socket, ‘mag,” Melone interjected, holding out a greasy hand.

               “What the hell are you two building now?”

               “We call her the Pesci-cutioner,” Melone beamed, giving the frame a loving caress. “Our latest pride and joy. We’re gonna haul her over to Cioccolata’s in a little bit so we can film Pesci catching some serious air.” Formaggio pursed back a grunting laugh.

               Prosciutto came out to join them on the porch, a new drink – this time a Natty Ice – in hand. “Did you say Cioccolata? That weird bastard who lives two blocks down?”

               “Yeah, why?”

               “Didn’t he set fire to some old grandpa’s house a few years back?”

               “Completely irrelevant, Pros,” Formaggio grinned, taking a drink from a nearby thermos. “He had the money to spare for a bigger ramp and a shared enthusiasm for seeing Pesci drive off into the blue, so we’re hauling the Pesci-cutioner over to his place. Besides, he’s got an actual video camera we can use.”

               “My Youtube followers are gonna loooove this one,” Melone whispered.

               “You are not fucking having Pesci drive off fucking anything!” Prosciutto screamed, drink sloshing in his hand. “Do you hear me?! I’ve had enough of this crap!”

               “Christ, Prosciutto, that’s my ear you’re screaming into!” Melone shouted, cupping his head. “Pesci’s twenty-two years old! Let the man have some fun and quit babying him!”

               “What was it the last time I had to take him to the ER?!” Prosciutto continued, face contorted with rage. “You remember! What, three eggnogs and the-?”

               “The paint pellets,” Formaggio finished. Melone choked his laughter back into his hand.

               “The god-damn paint pellets!” Prosciutto barreled on. “That’s right! I swear to God, if you even–“

               “Enough,” Risotto grumbled, patience gone. “They won’t be going anywhere with Pesci for a while anyway, Prosciutto. I have to take the truck to bail out Sorbet and Gelato.”

               “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Prosciutto ground out, rubbing his temple with his drink-free hand. “What was it this time?”

               “Disorderly conduct at the Dollar General on Webster.”

               “Of course it was.”

               “Aw, come on, Risotto, don’t ruin our fun!” Melone protested as Risotto swung open the truck’s door.

               “I’ll be back in an hour,” Risotto thundered, bringing the conversation to a close. “People can drive off whatever they fucking want to then.” And he drove off.