#i wish i was small enough to fit in the fridge this shit is ridiculous

[doyeons]

they’re trying to air fry me

[nadja-antipaxos]

CAN’T MAKE YOU HAPPIER NOW - FIVE

Previously - Four || Masterlist || Next - Six

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: swearing, brief mentions of shooter at ATN, brief mentions of cruises scandal, talk of sex, PIV, fingering

Note: Thank you so much to everyone reading. Now that my Ted Lasso fic is done, I'm back on Suck Session, babies. This is a long chapter, but I've made you wait enough. Episodes covered at 2x04-2x07. Please enjoy your read and leave feedback etc if you liked it. xxx

Word Count: 7,151

For what feels like the millionth time that day, Nisha hits Kendall’s name in her phone. It rings. It’s been ringing all day since she saw the shooter at ATN on the fucking news. Antifa, political posturing, all sorts of bullshit, but no one can answer her one question. She hasn’t been able to breathe all day. She tries to keep it from the kids, but it’s impossible. She assures them that Kendall is fine without any evidence to back it up. Ramesh takes them to his house to distract them. Nisha declines because just the sight of her will worry them. Shiv texts her back letting her know that they’re safe around 5 pm. She asks about Kendall shoplifting which Nisha has no idea about but that’s all she gets. It’s dark when he finally picks up and her heart jumps to her throat.

“Hey.”

“Hey? You serious?

“I’m okay.”

“Yeah, I know. Shiv told me.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to come over.”

“Okay.” 

She hangs up and clutches the back of her neck with her fingers. The exhaustion of the day finally hits her. She drags her feet to the fridge and grabs the chicken curry she made yesterday. She only ate at breakfast. She grabs a fork and digs in without heating it. She pours a glass of wine when she hears the knock on the door. She rushes over to it and sees Kendall on the other side. Instinctively, she throws her arms around him. His breath catches in his chest.  She sighs. He doesn’t speak not wanting to disturb the moment. He inhales her perfume. 

She pulls back and beckons him into the house. 

“The kids in bed?”

“Yeah, at Ramesh’s. Since there was shooting at Daddy’s work and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.” She walks back to her food and he just stands in her kitchen like the most useless scarecrow. He nods. “Look, Ken. I know we’re not—our shit aside—you’re still their dad. I  still need to know if you’re alive.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

“I mean, I found out from Shiv but…anyway…I’m glad you’re safe.” 

She turns away from him and puts the glass dish in the microwave. 

“Thank you.”

She almost laughs.  Why would he thank her for caring that he’s alive? 

“We’re looking to buy Pierce. It’s a good idea. Would fit right in and it’s what Dad wants, so—“

“Jesus, Ken.” She scoffs. “You’ve had had his bit in your mouth before but this is fucking ridiculous.”

“S-Sorry.” He swallows hard.

She puts the dish back on the island and hands him a fork. 

“It’s at Iverson’s spice level. You’ll be fine.”

“I like spicy food.”

“You have a limit.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” He knocks her fork away to grab some chicken.

She laughs and sees a small smile on his face. They haven’t been alone like this in a long time. He’s right next to her and he feels oceans away. 

“So, um, what’s the deal with the batteries?”

“Batteries?”

“Shiv complained that you’re shoplifting and Daddy Roy’s covering it up.”

“Uh-huh.” 

“I hope this isn’t a cry for help before you stick up a bank. Cause I got a lot of deals to finish this week—”

He laughs and hangs his head. He breathes in and exhales a choked sob. 

She sets the utensil down and takes it from his hand before engulfing him in her arms. He buries his face in her neck and the tears drip onto her skin. She blinks back her own and holds him tighter. 

“I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong.” She sighs, voice cracking. “I hate seeing you like this.” 

He lifts his head but stays in her embrace. His thumbs wipe away her tears. She tilts her head up as he dips down and their mouths meet. He clutches her waist like if he lets her go she’ll disappear. She backs into the island and gasps at the stone hitting her spine. He tastes like cigarettes and hints of curry as his tongue moves into her mouth. She moans, gripping his shoulders. 

He groans and scoops her up, locking her legs around his waist. He carries her down the hall and places her delicately on the bed. They break apart to remove their clothes but end up kissing before they get everything off. His fingers ghost over the fabric in between her legs and she bites her lip. Once their clothes find the floor, he pushes her down on the bed. His mouth still working hers while one hand fondles her bare breast and the other slips between her thighs.  He swallows every sound she makes. No one else can compare. Every woman he’s been with can’t even come close to how perfect she is. She breaks apart around his fingers and yells his name. It’s everything. 

She barely recovers before grabbing him and lining him up. He wants to say something to reassure her that he’s clean and always uses a condom with the others, but the words melt out of his mind at how tight she is. Fuck, she’s perfect. She’s so fucking perfect. He hooks her leg around his hip and she throws her head back. She meets his thrusts wanting him to move faster, but he wants this to last. Nisha isn’t used to him being this delicate. His mouth leaves gentle kisses on her neck as his thumb circles her slowly in time with his hips. She’s going to shatter into a million pieces. Kendall wants to tell her how much he loves her and how beautiful she is, but instead, he opens his eyes and watches the way her mouth falls open. She’s trembling, shattering and it’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. He can’t hold on after that and gives in.

Her soft breath pants under him. Her eyes are still closed. He was never worthy of her before…and now? He will never be. He doesn’t deserve her. She deserves someone strong who can give her everything. Not a coward. She never suffers fools and he’s one of them now. The blood on his hands and all the other people in his bed is an ever-growing chasm between them. 

Kendall slips out of her and rolls onto his back. She goes into the bathroom. He allows himself to watch her sleep knowing he isn’t going to get this again. He wishes he could be the one to make her happy. Keep her looking so peaceful. She needs to find someone better and that’s not him. 

Before the sun comes up, Nisha wakes up alone. She lets out a shuddering breath and lets the tears fall. How could she be so stupid?

It’s almost two months later when her period doesn’t come. She doesn’t even want to call him. They’ve never been in this position before. She couldn’t wait to tell him when it was Sophie or Iverson. Now, she wants the ground to swallow her up. He picks up on the second ring.

“I’m late. I’ll keep you posted.” She hangs up before she can hear his reaction.

17 years ago

  After their first meeting, Kendall was relentless. Nisha told him multiple times that she was more interested in getting into law school at Columbia than dating. It doesn’t stop him. He got her an unlimited tab at her favorite coffee spot. She refused to use it and always paid for her own. He had her favorite dish from her restaurant delivered to her door for two weeks. When he saw her at a party on Saturday, she murmured a thank you, and that was it. She was perfectly friendly and that’s all she was. Friendly. He didn’t realize that she wasn’t as easily won over as the other girls on campus. Gifts no matter how extravagant meant little to her.  When he bribed the writing center where she works to have her peer review his paper, he hoped he could talk to her, but she was strictly business. All it got him was a better grade on his paper and an excuse to see her for a month. She was far smarter than him in her sophomore year than he was in his senior year. She was a challenge and he loved a challenge. 

Now

Nisha feels a little sore after getting her IUD put in. They said to expect it. The minute her period came, she called and made the appointment. She’s not taking chances. She took a half-day at work and allows Mayala to cook dinner. Her phone buzzes and she sees Kendall’s name. She doubts he remembered she was seeing the doctor this week.

“Yeah?”

“Hi, uh, how are you?”

“Not pregnant so you don’t have to worry. Not that you did.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Nisha nods. That’s about what she expected. 

“That it?”

“We’re meeting with the Pierce family this weekend.”

She doesn’t say anything. She’s not giving him an inch. She was stupid to be so vulnerable with him before.

“They wanna know as a family before they seal the deal.”

She looks down at the black nail polish on her fingers. This has nothing to do with her.

“Dad wanted me to ask you if you’d come. I told him—”

“No. Marcia’s gonna be your token brown person.”

“Y-Yeah that’s uh, what I told him.”

“Okay. Thanks for that. Enjoy your rich white party.”

“Yep. Thanks.”

She hangs up the phone and lays back on the bed. Maybe she should get a new mattress and bedspread. Something colorful, unlike the terribly boring neutrals Kendall likes. She spends the weekend with the kids. Iverson gets to pick what they do Saturday and Sophie picks for Sunday. It meant a transportation museum and then a Broadway matinee. She finds Kendall sitting by her door when they get out of the elevators. The kids cheer and give him a hug. He looks relatively sober. Surprisingly, she doesn’t feel much looking at him. It just reminds her of the times he was locked out in college.

“Stewy put a sock on the door?” She asks dryly making him chuckle. 

“Something like that.” Kendall stands up.

“So, we just saw SpongeBob and now we’re gonna do pizza. You wanna do pizza?” Nisha asks. 

“Uh, sure.” 

Nisha nods and lets him in. Iverson tells him all about the museum and the different subway routes he learned about—which ones no longer operate, how the trains have changed if he thinks there’s something inside the abandoned ones. Sophie prefers to tell him about the musical and what she liked and didn’t like. Nisha lets them do all the talking. 

“Did you have a fun weekend?” He finally asks her.

“Go to spend it with my favorite people.” She smiles at the kids. She didn’t mean that as a dig. Okay, maybe a little. 

“Mummy said we can go see Wicked again.” Sophie perks up.

“I like the set design.” Nisha shrugs. “The spectacle.”

They want a SpongeBob marathon consisting of four episodes before bed. Kendall stays for it, but she can see him on the phone. He gives them both a kiss before bed and Nisha tucks them in. He’s still in her kitchen when she walks back out. 

“How was the NPR convention?” She asks getting a glass of water.

“We got the deal.”

“What Daddy Roy wants he gets.” She muses.

“One of the Pierces—Naomi—I slept with her.” The words tumble out of his mouth.

“I hope that’s not the old one. Didn’t think you were into Mrs. Robinson.” Her tone is sharp because she’s too tired to control it. She moves from water to wine. “You can’t go two seconds without humiliating me, huh?” 

Kendall just stares at her.

“I don’t know how it’s so easy for you. I can’t even imagine fucking someone else. You? You can fuck me, leave, then find someone else immediately.” She laughs with derision. “Fuck, I tortured myself for months after kissing Stewy.”

Anger flashes across his face and he steps forward.

“You kissed Stewy?”

Shit. She hadn’t meant to tell him.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“You wouldn’t talk to me. You sold our apartment that day.”

“Two days? After two fucking days you’re all over Stewy?” He tries to control his voice but he fails.

“I was upset. It didn’t mean anything.”

“That’s fucking perfect, Nish.” He slams his hand on the island.

“He barely got his tongue in my mouth before I stopped it. Which is a lot more self-control than you have.” She spits, blinking back tears. She takes another gulp of wine. She wishes she had never done it, but he made her feel so isolated that day. He sold their first home without even talking to her. She didn’t want Stewy. She had wanted him. They had never been more in sync and then she was thrown out for reasons she still doesn’t understand. The tears spill down her face.

“Please, just tell me. Were you cheating on me the whole time? Or did your Kendroid brain flip turn off the monogamy switch one day?”

His face changes. He’s no longer panting like he’s going to break something because he doesn’t have to.  He broke her. She whimpers. The most beautiful thing in his life and he broke her. He hates seeing her like this. 

“No. It wasn’t the whole time.”

She hangs her head and sobs.

“My mom saw the photos, Kendall. She told Ramesh it felt worse than when she found out my dad had a mistress. Cause she never wanted it to happen to me.” She buries her face in her hands. “You humiliated me.”

Kendall exhales slowly and places his hands on her wrists. He takes her face in his hands. She should pull away, but she doesn’t. His thumbs brush her cheekbones. Those big brown eyes are swimming with tears as she looks at him.

“You don’t know how much I miss you.”

“You just fucked someone and now you miss me?”

“Baby, she’s not you.” He leans in closer. “They’re never you.” 

Their lips crash together in a desperate kiss and he slides his arms around her back. She tucks her head under his chin.

“Please. Tell me what happened with the bear hug. I know something happened. I know it’s killing you. I can see it. Please.”

“Nish.” Kendall takes a deep breath. “I can’t.”

She shrugs him off and points to the door. “Go. Fuck, why do I always fall for it? You chose this. Deal with the fucking consequences.” She wipes her eyes.

“But just me? What if I tell my dad about you being in on the fucking bear hug, huh?”

If he told Logan, the first thing he would do is go after her. With his media empire, he would spill anything and everything about Nisha, her family, and even the kids. Iverson would be a prime target.  They would be swarmed. Has Kendall even thought this through?

“You have no proof.” She straightens up and meets his gaze. Does he really want to make an enemy out of her? Has he learned nothing?  “And you’re not credible right now.”

“You’d lie to him and sell me out?”

Her eyes darken as she steps forward. It’s not a side of her he ever encounters. He’s only heard stories about this version of her.  She becomes unnervingly calm.

“For my safety? For my children’s safety? Against Logan?” She arches an eyebrow. “You better fucking believe it.” 

Kendall storms out and she doesn’t stop him. If he goes against her, he will lose. Every time. 

Nisha’s glad to be at Shiva Tech the next day. Her brothers floated some names for general counsel since their current is retiring and Nisha said she wasn’t able to take it. Normally, they would just text her, but Kapil seemed very excited about this one and wanted her to come in. She sits at the table in the big conference room. Her brothers aren’t giving her any clues.

“We’re ready to make the deal, but we want your stamp of approval,” Ramesh tells her.

“I feel so included.” She puts her hand on her chest.

“Good. Cause that’s the only way this is gonna work.” Her head turns to the door opening. She recognizes the voice but her brain plays catch up to the person in front of her. Slight frame. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. Strong brow and cheekbones. Five o’clock shadow bristling over tanned skin. 

“Holy fuck!” She jumps up and throws her arms around their oldest friend. “Sebastián!” 

He laughs with his whole body and it echoes through her as he lifts her off the ground.

“You look amazing.” He sighs.

“Shut up, look at you.” She laughs. 

She pulls back and glares at her brothers while Sebastián’s hand settles on her waist. 

“You assholes, why didn’t you tell me?”

“We needed your blessing.” Kapil laughs.

“Stamp. Stamp. Stamp. Sebastián Velasco, General counsel. ” Nisha places her hand on his chest. 

“After you turned us down, we needed someone we could trust,” Ramesh explains. 

“I’m always second to you, Nish.” Sebastián grins.

“You’re damn right.”  She laughs as her eyes wander over his face. She hasn’t seen him in at least four years. Definitely not since his divorce. 

“He’s gonna be a nomad like me.” Kapil smiles.

“Does that work for you?” Nisha looks away from her brother and back at Sebastián. 

“Yeah. The kids are in California. My last job had me here exclusively so I’ll actually see them more.” A smile tugs at his mouth. 

“Good.” She pats him on the cheek. “You know Mom is gonna lose her shit.”

“The son she always wanted.” Kapil sighs.

“Oh, fuck off with that.” Sebastián glares at him with his hand still resting on Nisha’s waist. Kapil and Ramesh exchange a look but say nothing.

“Okay, enough enough enough. We have paperwork to sign.” Ramesh opens his folder. “We need this all squared away before Argestes.”

“Ah, the Olympics of conferences,” Kapil smirks.

“How is it the Olympics?” Nisha asks sitting next to him.

“I heard you get all the swag and they put condoms in the rooms.” Kapil shrugs. “I’ve never heard of that. Sue me.”

“Christ, Kap. Please don’t—I’m sorry I asked.” Nisha grimaces and Ramesh does the same.

It’s the Asuris first time at Argestes which has sparked a lot of chatter about Shiva Tech possibly dipping into media. If Apple could do it, why couldn’t they? Still, there’s been no confirmation, but the buzz makes them feel like the belle of the ball. Anyone who knows anything knows Nisha’s the essential element and the toughest to crack. She stays pleasant but knows none of them are what Ramesh is looking for. 

When Kendall’s going back inside after a chilly conversation with Stewy, he spies Nisha standing out in a magenta blouse in a sea of Northface neutrals. Why is she here?

“Did you know about this?”  He barks at Jess.

“Uh, um, no.”  Jess blinks.

“Why not?” He snaps.

“Last minute addition?” Jess scrolls through her iPad. “Oh, Ramesh is doing a talk on using data responsibly tomorrow with Kapil. Otherwise, it says honored guests? And she’s not on here.”

“Uh-huh.” He needs to be thinking about cruises, but right now he’s rooted on the spot. He should go over there. Right? He should go over there. Who’s watching their kids? Her mother? Ramesh’s wife? Both? Whatever. She’s still legally his wife.

He should talk to her. He steps forward when he sees a strong hand touch her shoulder attached to the rest of the body of Sebastián Velasco. Ridiculously handsome Sebastián Velasco with his stupid flawless brown skin that only gets better with age. The 5’9” bane of Kendall’s existence. 

“Why the fuck is he here?” He looks back at Jess.

“Um, I don’t know who that is.”

“Sebastián Velasco. He’s a lawyer. Why the fuck is he here?” 

“He’s, um, Shiva Tech’s new general counsel.” 

Nisha laughs loudly—a real genuine laugh. Sebastián grins and squeezes her shoulder.

“Fuck.”

17 years ago

Kendall graduated from Harvard with a decent GPA, a degree in business, and a job at Waystar. He didn’t make any progress with Nisha Asuri despite his many, many attempts. He didn’t think he’d see her again. Why would he? She was gonna be a junior and he was gone. So when he saw her in the lobby at the start of summer, he didn’t know what to do with himself. She looked very professional with a tight bun, a light blue blouse, and a black blazer. She had a lanyard that marked her as an intern. Why the fuck didn’t that ever come up? Gerri walked over to her and shook her hand before ushering her back to her office. Well, that would look good on an application to law school. 

He wasn’t surprised at how well she did. She was basically Gerri’s assistant for the summer. She summarized her briefs and gave her presentation decks while he followed his dad around. She was always there before him and still working when he left. 

The Lincoln Line was a fledging but incredibly popular newspaper in the DC area. It wasn’t great, but it was extremely conservative and it was outdoing their paper in the capital. Logan wanted opinions on how to crush them. Kendall suggested a few interviews with conservative superstars to remind everyone who really held the power. Then Nisha stood up.

“Respectfully, sir, is your only motivation to destroy the competition?” She asked, confidence unwavering. 

Logan looked at Gerri. “Yeah?”

“After looking at their finances, acquisition and subsequent shutdown would be more financially effective. Nisha did the numbers last night.” Gerri handed him a folder.

“Sir, they are bleeding out. Even though they might be a critical darling, you’re the mogul.”

“So, why not let them fuck off and die? Kendall’s plan is solid.”

“It makes you look like the hero. That instead of being threatened, you offered to bring them into your empire.” Nisha explained.  “You’ll own them and make sure they can never publish again. You strike me as someone who makes sure his enemy is dead. You don’t want to risk him getting better and stabbing you.”

Logan began to laugh and Kendall’s eyes darted between them.

“Fucking balls of a samurai on this one. Gerri, draft up your plan—and you, um…”

“Nisha, sir.”

“Nisha, bring Kendall in. Maybe your killer instinct will rub off on him.”

“Yes, sir.”

He rubbed his hands together before clapping. Kendall just stared blankly. Logan clapped him on the shoulder after Nisha and Gerri walked out. 

“Watch that one. She’s too much woman for you, but you could learn something.”

Kendall took his dad’s advice and let her lead. She was far more ruthless than she looked. He was a little more distracted by her than he wanted to admit. She acted like a true professional and didn’t show any hint of annoyance towards him. She complimented him on his ideas and was a great partner. The more they worked together, the more she seemed to respect him.

He was jealous of how calmly she took his father’s criticism and even more at how he seemed to like her for it. She offered no excuses and simply did better the next time. How did she make it look so easy? His father would humiliate him over his mistakes and he couldn’t get a word out. So he yelled at him for being more emotional than “the fucking girl”. Kendall just nodded. Everyone left the room and he threw the folder in the trashcan before kicking it repeatedly. He could never get it right. She cleared her throat and he wiped his eyes, not realizing she had come back. 

“I was wondering if I could take a look at your file?”

“Why? To give me more shit?”

She simply shook her head and pulled the file out of the trash.

“There’s something here. Just needs a little more finessing.” 

“Yeah?” He sniffed.

“You’re smart, Kendall.”

“Right.” He scoffed.

“You are.” She put her hand on his shoulder and walked out with his file. Her touch burned right through him.

True to her word, she read it and handed it back with colorful tabs full of suggestions. In the next meeting, Logan didn’t have anything bad to say about it. He commented that Kendall had improved. He was just attracted her to before, but now, he was crazy about her.  He met her in the kitchenette after the meeting and he moved in to hug her, but without thinking, their lips met. She leaned into him, standing up on her tiptoes. His head was swimming. After constantly thinking about her all summer, he was kissing her and it was better than he imagined. His hand cupped her face and she stepped back with wide eyes. She rushed off and he followed her to the elevators.

“Nisha. Please. Talk to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Please, Kendall.”

He grabbed her hand before she could run. Her breathing hitched and she looked down at his large hand swallowing hers.

“Tell me you don’t feel that.”

“I worked too hard to throw this away. No matter how much I like you.”

If he dated his fellow intern, no one would care. But if she dated the boss’s son, everyone would accuse her of sleeping her way into the internship. She didn’t deserve that. So, he let her go. 

On her last day in August, Gerri brought her a cupcake and gave her a hug. She really stood out to earn affection from Gerri and a stellar letter of recommendation.  She stayed late even on her last day. 

“I think you can go home.” Kendall chuckled.

“Just one more thing.” She jotted down some notes for Gerri and put them on her desk.

“Can I walk you out?” He knew they took her badge at five.

“Uh, yeah.” She gathered her things and joined him in the elevator. 

He didn’t see the way her eyes kept darting from the buttons to his face. Outside, the street was damp from the rain. 

“How are you getting home?” He asked, not wanting to leave her.

“Oh, subway. I have a cousin I’m staying with in Queens.” She nodded. 

“Cool.”

“Not really.” She laughed. “But it worked. It was really nice working with you, Kendall. Sorry I was so mean to you at school.”

“It’s okay. I deserved it. Great working with you too.” He offered his hand and she shook it. She waved and started walking towards the subway.

Kendall looked down at his shoes. He was standing in a puddle letting the rain seep into his expensive shoes. Fuck it. He wasn’t gonna let it end like this. He called after her and she turned.

“Can I please take you out for dinner?”

She just stared at him.

“Before—at school—it was just looks and trying to win. No girl talked to me like you did. I didn’t know you, but now, I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re so fucking smart and badass. I like you so much.”

She smiled. “I still don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“Aren’t you tired of it? Being so good all the time?”

“You have no idea.” She smirked. 

He raised his eyebrows. She sighed, cursed under her breath, and pulled him down by his tie. Her mouth covered his. He kissed her back harder. Her tongue nudged his lips open and he groaned. 

“That a yes?” He was panting.

“Of course it is, you fucking idiot.” She rolled her eyes playfully and tugged on his tie.

“Love it when you’re mean. It’s so hot.” He leaned down and kissed her again.

Now - Second Day of Argestes 

The other darling of the conference is Ryan Sutton. The 26 year old English born tech icon behind Her Tech and Girlie Can Code. She’s looking to branch out to the US and everyone wants a chance with her. She stands tall in a pale pink sweater and tailored grey slacks with wide hazel eyes, and china doll features. She looks bored by everyone who approaches her. That is until she sees Kapil.

“Kap! Hey, buddy.” She shouts with her Liverpudlian accent.

“Hey!” They hug. 

“Welcome to Argestes.”

“You too!”

He steps back and ushers his siblings over.

“This is my big brother, Ramesh Asuri. This is Ryan Sutton.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Ramesh smiles.

“Likewise. And this must be the secret weapon I’ve heard so much about.” Ryan turns to Nisha.

“Nisha. Great to meet you, Miss Sutton. My daughter just started your coding series on YouTube.”

“Yeah? What does she think?”

“She’s obsessed. She’d rather watch you than Harry Styles.”

“Wow. I really made it then.”

“I think you made it well before that. I’m looking forward to your presentation on Women in Business.”

“Thanks. I don’t think they’re gonna like it, but I don’t give a shit. Maybe I’ll get less pitches. So, what’s up, Kap?” She places her hand in her pocket. 

“Um, well, we have a pitch.”

“Ahh, no, we were doing so well!”

“I know I know.”

“If it helps.” Nisha steps forward. “We don’t actually want to pitch you here. We’d love to meet you at our New York office.”

“Okay, and why should I do that?”

“Because I know you want equal footing. I’ve read who you’ve turned down. You’re taking your time because Her Tech is your baby. You’re not looking for a big check to buy an island while someone else has free reign over your blood, sweat, and tears. The rest of these people will see you as a goal. A conquest.”

“And how do you see me?”

“As a partner. We want you to work with us—not for us. Everyone else in this room—they came from money.”

“Like your husband?”

“Exactly. They don’t know what it means to build something. We do. We both came from the outside and made it to the top. I think that gives us a shorthand.” 

“That’s why she’s the secret weapon.”

Ryan pauses, looking her over.  Ramesh and Kapil hold their breath. 

“Okay. One meeting.”

“Thank you so much. Really. You won’t regret it.”

“You Asuris are always surprising me. I thought Kap wanted to hit on me when instead he wanted to debate me about Linux. Show me what you’ve got.” Ryan offers a dazzling smile.

“We look forward to it.” Nisha offers her hand and Ryan shakes it. “Enjoy the conference.”

“You too.” 

They leave her be and Ramesh claps his hand on her shoulder.

“Fucking killed it.”

“For real.” Kapil smiles. 

Once the cruises article hits, everyone avoids the Roys like lepers. Nisha honestly had no idea because why would she? Most of it happened in the 1990s and the coverup is exactly the kind of thing Kendall wouldn’t tell her.  For once, she’s glad because it’s not a mess she wants to be anywhere near. She’s smart and ruthless, but she’s not abusive. Every assistant she’s had has been promoted or left on great terms and her brothers are the same. If Ramesh or Kapil were ever accused of such behavior, she’d be done with them. She can’t say she’s too surprised considering the number of creeps at Waystar. 

It’s brought up in passing, but Ramesh assures everyone that they’re not together anymore. She would say it, but she feels a little put on the spot. She doesn’t feel like saying “I’m in the clear cause my husband’s a secretive asshole”. 

She feels eyes on her as she brings a glass of water to her lips. Among them is Kendall. She feels a tug in her gut. She’s so used to cleaning up after him and offering advice that part of her is surprised he hasn’t at least texted. Things really have changed. He locks eyes with her and she can’t read him. His default look is varying degrees of misery. She feels a hand tap her shoulder. It’s Sebastián.

“Think we should draft a statement?”

“No. That seems reactive. It has nothing to do with us.”

“Okay.”

He presses his palm between her shoulder blades. She turns to face him.

“Oh, look at that.” Stewy appears behind Kendall. “That’s a nice reunion of old friends.”

“Hmm.” Kendall wants to look away but he sees the way Velasco keeps his hand on her back. It’s been like that for five minutes now. They haven’t seen each other in years. How the fuck are they so goddamn comfortable with each other? She should be shrugging him off.

“He was like her first boyfriend, right? First…everything.”

Kendall clears his throat not wanting to give a response. He’s well aware of their history.

“Fuck me, he’s hot. You’ve got heroin chic and he’s just a fucking specimen.”

Kendall exhales through his nose, burning with jealousy. He knows exactly what Stewy’s trying to do. And Christ, it’s working. Velasco tilts his head and she smirks. He would give anything to know what they’re talking about. Nisha laughs, straightening his wire-framed glasses.

  “Looks like you’re not in the way anymore.” He tuts.

“Heard you two kissed.” Kendall finally tears his eyes away.

“Barely, bro. I’m not the one you need to worry about.” Stewy chuckles and walks away.

Kendall steals one more look before leaving to prepare for the panel. He had wanted to talk to her, but he didn’t even get near her. Fucking Stewy. He has no idea that Nisha watches the panel from the back. Ramesh’s eyes nearly roll out of his head every time Kendall speaks. Nisha has seen this fight play out at many family dinners. All vying for Logan’s approval. The dinosaur comment isn’t going to go over well. She leaves.

“You okay?” Ramesh goes after her.

“How bad…is this?” Nisha moves out of the hallway to a more isolated spot.

“Um…you only did the internship before law school. You’re clean. And Kapil just joined the board so we’re fine.” 

“Right.” Nisha just nods.

“I gotta go change for the panel. I’ll see you there?” He hugs her.

“Yeah. Definitely.” She gives him a half-smile.

Their panel is well received. No controversy. No drama. Just good business. Without Kendall, these things are so much easier. She walks back to her room to freshen up a bit when she sees Kendall walking toward her. She sighs. 

“Hi.”

“I know you know. And that we’ve been fighting. But—”

“We haven’t talked since you stormed out of my kitchen with your hissy fit.”

“Hissy fit?”

“You were—”

“I was just standing up for myself and our children.”

“Nisha, listen. Can we just talk—I know you—”

“No, you listen. I’m here for my brothers and their company. Tell your dad to clean up his own fucking mess.” She blinks back the tears and jogs over to Kapil and Ramesh. 

They turn and see Kendall staring at her. Kapil flips him off and Ramesh slings his arm around her guiding her away.  Dinner is a blur. Once she’s back in her room, she doesn’t even remember what she had.

A quiet knock on the door causes Nisha to get out of bed. She isn’t doing anything besides looking at her phone. She opens it and sees Sebastián in her doorway.

“Hey.” His voice is soft.

“Hey.”

“Seemed kinda checked out at dinner. You okay?”

“Yeah just ran into Kendall before. He actually thought I’d help.”

“Wow. That fucking sucks.”

“Thanks.”

He stammers at the same time she starts talking. She chuckles and shakes her head. She looks over his shoulder. She doesn’t expect the press to be lingering around the lodgings but she wouldn’t bet against it.  He raises his eyebrows. She nudges the door open and nods. He closes it behind him. 

“I’ve wanted to do this all weekend.” She grabs him by the collar and crushes her mouth into his. He nips at her lower lip and pulls back.

“Really?” He chuckles. “Cause I’m just here for extra condoms. I’m all out.”

“Fuck you.” She laughs.

“That’s the idea, honey.” He takes hold of her jaw.

His mouth moves firmly against hers. The mouth that gave her the first kiss when she was eleven and he was twelve. Very chaste and quick. Lasted only three seconds before he was called home for dinner and ran down the street. The mouth showed her what a French kiss was the night they snuck into the community pool to avoid the California heat. Her mom working eighteen-hour shifts left her alone a lot and they took advantage.  The mouth that trembled on her neck as she lay still beneath his awkward hip thrusts for five minutes in her childhood bedroom. Neither of them knew what they were doing other than making sure they didn’t go onto college as virgins. He climbed out her window and down the lattice when they heard her mother’s car pull into the driveway. The mouth that swallowed her sounds in the backseat of his Camry when he made her legs shake with his fingers before her sophomore year of college. The last time that mouth had been on hers. 

They are both older now with four kids and two failed marriages between them. Age has made him much more comfortable with his body and how to use it. His hands squeeze her waist and lift her off the ground onto the dresser. She’s tired of feeling like shit and wants to feel good just once. He licks his way into her mouth and she clutches a handful of his dark curls, moaning. He feels good. He feels very good.

When she wakes up in the morning, his tanned back faces her.  All of her muscles are sore in the best way. He hears her stir and rolls over.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Should I go?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Mhmm.”

“Last night was fun.”

“You know…this is just sex, right? I’m not even divorced yet and—”

“Nish, we’re good. I promise.”

She giggles and covers her face. 

“Oh? Now you’re shy?”

“Shut up.”

His fingers dance over her ribs tickling her. She can’t contain her laughter and squirms.

“Hold on, hold on. I’m looking for something.”

“Sebastián, I swear to—" She’s cut off by her own moan as he dips a finger inside her. His thumb rubs the bundle of nerves and he adds another thick finger. He curls them and she arches her back.

“God!”

“Found it.” 

Things only get better for the Asuris after Argestes. The pitch with Ryan Sutton invites another meeting that invites another meeting that leads to lunch. Kendall sees all the phones online. They look harmless, but Velasco is always right fucking next to her. He has a feeling his father might be the one who sent the photographers when he asks if her brothers are pimping her out. Kendall doesn’t answer. The pictures on Instagram are worse of close dinners, laughter, lots of wine, and even one where Nisha has her chin on Velasco’s shoulder for a smiling selfie. Was this fucker just waiting? Did he attend their wedding thinking one day it’d end and he’d slip back in? He hates this. Even fucking Naomi Pierce seems to only make him forget for a little while.

While Nisha’s out finalizing things with Ryan, Kendall calls her multiple times while downing more and more beers. It’s the early hours of the morning in England after his mother refused to talk. He misses her so much it feels like his heart is thousands of miles away ripped from his body.

“I’m willing to tailor this to whatever you’d like,” Nisha tells her ignoring her buzzing phone.

“Really?”

“Look, Ramesh has a reputation for being selective—“

“And ruthless.” 

“Right, but he’s not. He knows everyone wants to see him fuck up and he’s passionate about protecting his interests. Her Tech would be one of them.” Of course, Kendall would be trying to ruin this in his own way. She shoves her phone back into her purse.

“I’m sorry. I know that’s not professional. That’s not how I usually am. My husband and I have separated and work schedules, kids and their schedules, it’s just a difficult time. Not that I’m not committed to you or—”

“Oh, it’s okay. I had a breakup last year and I don’t have any kids so I can’t imagine. I think I’m ready to sign some paperwork.” 

Sebastián smiles and pulls out his briefcase. 

In the limo back to her place, he places his hand on her knee.

“You are a vision. Fucking magnificent.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious. Thank god Cecilia only calls about the kids.”

“I don’t know how you did it.”

He places his hand on her wrist. “Support from everyone who cared about me. And a great lawyer. I can recommend some firms.”

She smiles at him and threads her fingers through his. She finally answers Kendall when she’s in her bedroom getting undressed. The back of her dress is open.

“Hi, Kendall.”

“Nish, oh god.”

“What?”

“It’s fucking awful here.”

“The horror movie that was never made starring your mother.”

He laughs a little too loudly. “Fuck, you’re so amazing.”

“Not hard to make fun of a proud colonizer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“About your mom? She didn’t colonize India personally.”

“No. I would never tell my dad about….you and the bear hug. You’re an amazing mom and you’re always gonna look out for our kids.”

“Ken, where the fuck is this coming from?”

“Miss you, baby.”

“You wouldn’t if you’d just tell me the truth.”

“No, I just wanna talk to you. You don’t understand.”

“I do, Ken. Believe me. Everything is always up to what you want and I’m tired of it. It’s exhausting and I can’t do it anymore..” She licks her lips and her vision blurs. “I want a divorce.”

She hangs up as Sebastián walks out of her bathroom with a white towel slung low on his hips. She can see the patch of hair below his belly button. He’s so hot it hurts. 

“You okay?”

“Mhmm.” She kisses him deeply.

His hand trails down her neck and settles between her breasts. “Tell me, honey. Tell me what you want.”

“Make me feel good.”

It doesn’t take him long. She hisses as he bites Spanish words into her skin. He flips her over and places his palm on the base of her spine. This is exactly what she wants. To forget.

[ceilingfan5]

Hehoo funny numbers 6&9 whao

(6 is being comforted after a nightmare and 9 is sharing a bed)

“It’s one thing already that we’re off on this wild alien goose chase-” Kravitz slams the door of their rental car and glares at the ugly little motel. The neon sign flashes weakly that there are no, no, no vacancies. Who else is stupid enough to stay in a shithole like this? Kravitz isn’t sure he wants to know. 

“That would really be somethin’, huh, an alien goose? But we aren’t chasing an alien this time, Kravitz, it’s definitely, definitely a bigfoot.”

“Wild fucking bigfoot chase,” Kravitz begrudgingly amends. “But the goddamn FBI couldn’t spring for two rooms?”

“It was hard enough to get them to spring for one. We could be sleeping in the car if it weren’t for yours truly.” Taako winks at him and gets his luggage out of the trunk. Kravitz huffs, but he accepts his duffel from his partner. 

“Gee,” he says, giving the motel one more long, sour look. Kravitz doesn’t believe in the supernatural like Taako does, but even he would buy that this place is haunted. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” Taako flounces off to the office and returns with their key. It takes a few tries to get it to open the old lock, and he has to shoulder it open. The room smells a bit musty, and it’s small, definitely not going to have a fridge, or microwave, or coffee pot, maybe even a clock or a lamp. 

It is also lacking in another department. 

“Taako,” Kravitz says, strained. “Maybe I’m having trouble counting on my fingers here.”

“Nope, uhhh. I’m having the same, uh, the same challenge. That would happen to be one, count em, one, singular bed.” 

“Do you think I can get enough cell service to quit my job?” Kravitz quips bitterly. 

“Shit, Krav, it won’t be that bad.” Taako doesn’t look quite convinced. He tosses his luggage down and flops on the bed. It’s a king, at least, but unless it miraculously undergoes mitosis in the next twenty minutes, they’re sleeping together. Kravitz eyes him. Taako stares back, blushing a little. “We, uh, we can keep our hands to ourselves, yeah?”

“Of course.” 

“Then, it’s no big deal, right? And it’s just one night. I mean. What could go wrong?”

After brushing their teeth and putting on their pjs, Taako and Kravitz both sort of shimmy under the covers and try to leave a big space between them. A buffer. A no-man’s land. Taako rolls over and looks at Kravitz, and they’re close enough that Kravitz can smell his minty breath, and his whole chest aches. If only… well. There’s no sense in pining. Kravitz is a sensible man, despite what everyone back at the Bureau likes to laugh about at the water cooler. He may be stuck on these ridiculous cases with Taako, but he takes his job seriously. And he knows that nothing is going to happen between them. And nothing should. It simply wouldn’t be professional. 

“Um, goodnight,” Taako says. 

“Goodnight,” Kravitz repeats, a little too softly. 

“Just- um. Just so you’re aware and I don’t scare the full shit out of you, I, well- I have night terrors sometimes. Just, you know, a heads up.”

“Got it.” Kravitz rolls onto his back and folds his arms across his chest like a corpse, willing his stupid body to fully stay within the bounds of a professional relationship. 

“But, uh, it’ll probably be fine.” 

And with that, silence falls, and they spend an uncomfortable amount of time struggling to fall asleep. Kravitz is so very aware of Taako next to him, how warm he is and how good he smells, and he has to remind himself that Taako believes that an ooze possessed a man last week and made him commit insurance fraud. He is under no circumstances going to touch Taako in this bed tonight. 

Kravitz wakes up with his arms around Taako. They fit so perfectly together, Kravitz almost doesn’t realize why he’s woken up, but Taako has jolted awake and he’s shaking, biting down on his hand like he’s using every bit of will his body can contain to keep from disturbing Kravitz. 

“Taako,” he says blearily. He wishes there was a lamp. Maybe it got stolen. It probably would have had seashells glued to it or something anyway. “Taako, are you alright?”

“Mmph,” Taako says, which might have been rude if he didn’t have his mouth full. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Kravitz’s voice is so soft, softer than even he would have expected. “Hey. You’re alright. I’ve got you.” He gently takes Taako’s hand out of his mouth, relieved to find he didn’t actually draw blood. He wishes he knew what time it was. “Fuck...” 

“I’ve got you. It was just a dream, okay?” Kravitz strokes his hair, pulling it out of his face. Taako twists to look at him, eyes wide with panic and probably also surprise that Kravitz isn’t being a stone cold dick. 

“Just a dream,” he mumbles. 

“You’re safe. I’ve got you.” And despite every instinct screaming at him to keep his foolish hands to himself, Kravitz wraps his arms back around Taako, because that’s what Taako needs right now. Taako’s startled, but he rolls and tucks into the embrace, still shaking. Kravitz rubs his back.

They can deal with consequences in the morning. For now, in the dark of night, he’s going to be what Taako needs. Taako believes in things that go bump in the night, and Kravitz? Kravitz believes in Taako.

[milfgritty]

constellation of asters | m. frost & j. farabee

❀ ⇢ requested: yes | no ❀ ⇢ genre: poly!au | soulmate!au | gender neutral reader ❀ ⇢ word count: 12.9k ❀ ⇢ a/n: yea i have no excuses for this. enjoy.

everyone has a soulmate, it’s just a simple known fact. a red string, a soulmark, first words tattooed on the inside of your wrist, there’s something to help every person find theirs. except, well, you never had any of those. growing up, you (kinda) came to terms with the fact that you might just not have a soulmate at all. it’s not until you meet morgan and joel that you begin to reconsider the possibility that you actually have not one, but two.

⇢ posted: 02.07.21 . | . masterlist

There are the lucky ones in the world who are born with an identifying soulmark. Something that leads them straight to their soulmate, whether it be a red string of fate, or the date of their other half’s birth, or even a tattoo shared only by the two of them. 

You, though?

You wish you were one of them. But alas, no string, no tattoo, no drawings, not even a damn clock. Nothing to ever even allude to the existence of your supposed other half. When you were younger it terrified you, made you think that something went wrong wherever soulmates were paired. Left you alone, destined to never be the perfect match for anyone. You used to watch in envy of all the kids in the schoolyard proudly displaying their tattoos, showing off whatever new their soulmate drew on their skin that morning. Knowing that they would remember that you were one of the unlucky ones soon enough, the ones people whispered about under their breath, never loudly as though terrified if someone heard them their own soulmate would vanish.

Not having a soulmate was kind of a big deal, if you couldn’t tell. 

And still years went by and you grew up with half-assed reassurances of ‘don’t worry, I’m sure your soulmate is out there somewhere, you’ll see’ and ‘maybe you just have an invisible soulmark, didn’t you know those are a thing?’. Years went by, and you grew up, and you rationalized. 

You didn’t need a soulmate. People without them got along just fine, and sometimes people lost theirs without ever meeting them in the first place. Hell, you were actually luckier than everyone else because you had the free will, the agency, to pick who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. So what if they weren’t handpicked and perfect for you, you would be happy, dammit.

That’s what you told yourself, at least. 

~

Done with a particularly rough day of classes, you figured it was only fair to reward yourself with your favorite drink from your favorite cafe near campus. It was a special treat that you rarely afforded yourself, what with you fitting the stereotypical broke college image to an almost painful extent. Dodging other people on the sidewalk, you clutched your jacket closer around your body to protect from the harsh wind. The bag on your back straining under the combined weight of your single (five subject) notebook, textbooks, and laptop, you cursed yourself under your breath for not at the very least putting it in your car before making the five minute trek. 

Slipping into the tiny cafe nestled on the corner, you allowed yourself a sigh of relief. You took the moment to drop your stuff at a vacant table before making your way to the counter. Waiting in line, your eyes scanned the menu despite knowing exactly what you would get, as you did every time you let yourself come here. Back aching and your hand attempting to massage it from the worst possible angle, the line continued to shorten until you could order and retreat back to your table. 

You were tempted to stay, even after getting your coffee. Free wifi, decent music, and minimal noise? Easily get through at least homework for one class. But a larger part of you yearned for your warm bed and cozy blankets, preferably with pajamas. And so, it was with maximum effort that you picked back up your bag and coffee and slipped out the door and into the windy outdoors once more. 

The walk back to your car was more bearable with the addition of a hand warmer, so much so that you took the longer way through the small park you had walked past on your way there. With the trees above and around you and the dancing leaves raining down, their colors slowly changing from their normal shade to the yellows and oranges of autumn, a smile slipped onto your lips. Your eyes lingered on the flowers lining the pathway, your mind trying futilely to identify which ones they wer—

A body slammed into yours, shoulders knocking violently as you were shoved off balance. Your still mostly full coffee fell from your hand, lid flying off and spilling onto the ground. You landed miraculously not in the growing puddle of hot coffee, but still flat on your ass as you stared up in shock at the man who had somehow remained standing. 

Seconds ticked by as you stared at each other, uncomprehending. The tall and outrageously sturdy stranger broke through his shock first.

“I’m so sorry, holy shit,” he rushed out, hand reaching down to help you up. Gazing unblinking at the outstretched limb, you allowed him to pull you up. Bare skin touching yours, you only allowed a split second of disappointment when there was no discernable reaction before smothering it back down.

Really, you thought, what did I expect? A mark to show up on our hands linking us together? How naive. You really thought you had gotten passed doing that.

“It—it’s fine,” you mumbled, sparing a despaired glance down at your spilled coffee, “don’t worry about it.” How neither you nor your bag didn’t end up in the puddle was beyond you, but you’ll take it. 

His gaze followed yours, landing on the pitiful cup. “Fuck, your drink, I’m so sorry.”

“Seriously, it’s fine. Stop apologizing,” you told him, adjusting your bag and turning to leave. There was no way you were going back to the cafe and getting another drink, this one was already indulging yourself. 

“No, hey,” he lightly grabbed your jacket, stopping you. “Let me buy you a new one, make it up to you for spilling that one.” 

Suddenly much closer to his tall frame, your eyes caught on his brown ones. There was just something about him that you could already feel your resolve chipping away. 

“I was on my way to Starbucks anyway, it’s no problem,” he continued, as though sensing he was breaking you down. At the mention of Starbucks, though, your nose involuntarily scrunched. Something he definitely caught. “Or wherever it was you got that,” he laughed, his smile making your heart catch a beat. 

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Not when he’s oddly pretty and he could have a soulmate who’s not you and—

“Yea, sure.” You smiled, “Luckily for you, it’s pretty close to here.”

His smile widened, eyes crinkling at the corner, and his hand dropped from your sleeve. It was strange how much you felt its absence, but you pushed the thought away. “After you then,” he stepped aside, gesturing you forward. 

Moving around him, you fell in step together, going back the way you came. 

“I’m Morgan, by the way,” he—Morgan—introduced himself after a beat. Studying him for a split second, you thought the name suited him. 

“Y/N,” you said in response, ignoring the way his smile made you want to smile, too.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” And the two of you kept walking. 

~

Two months. It had been two months of hearing Morgan talk about Y/N this, Y/N that, and Joel still wasn’t quite sure if he liked or hated you. 

Depends on the day, really.

It wasn’t anything against you as a person; it was just, well. He wasn’t sure what it was if he was being completely honest. Maybe it was the way Morgan brightened at the mention of your name, maybe it was how he always brought you up in conversation, maybe it was how obvious it was that he liked you.

But he definitely wasn’t jealous. Of course not. How ridiculous.

He watched Morgan move around in their shared kitchen, rambling on and on. Something about how you joked earlier when you were hanging out that you would wear his jersey if he bought it for you. At that moment, he couldn’t hold the thing he couldn’t quite identify in anymore. “So have you brought up how you feel, yet?” 

Morgan stopped and closed the fridge door that he had half his body shoved inside and digging around in as he turned to face him. Brows furrowed, he shook his head with a look of poorly feigned confusion. “I—what? No, it’s not like that. Why would you even ask that?” he questioned, staring him down.

Joel shrugged, fidgeting on the stool he had perched himself on when Morgan went into the kitchen. He really wasn’t sure why he had asked. He just had. A part of him didn’t want to know why.

“Just feels like the two of you have been hanging out as much as you can. The way you talk, it’s pretty obvious how you, at least, feel,” he replied. He picked at his sweats, avoiding his roommate's gaze.

Morgan cleared his throat, turning back to the fridge. “I don’t—not like that, man,” he told him over his shoulder. He gave the fridge a second glance before closing the door, walking past Joel and out of the kitchen. 

“It’s not a big deal if you do,” Joel said as he followed him back into the living room. “You haven’t found your soulmate yet, plenty of people date before they do.”

“Why are you so concerned about it, Beezer?” Morgan pivoted on his heel to face him, forcing Joel to stop in his tracks unless he wanted to run him down. 

“I—I don’t, I’m not,” he answered, mind racing, “I just think you’ve been practically obsessed with them for months and I haven’t even met them—”

Morgan laughed sharply, cutting him off, “Is that what this is about? Seriously?”

“I mean, kinda? It’d be nice, at least.”

“Fine, then I’ll ask if we can all do something together this weekend. Is that good for you, Joel?”

Ignoring the sarcasm in his last sentence, he maneuvered around his body and flopped down onto the couch. “It is actually, thanks.” In his head, however, he was less certain. How was he gonna be able to interact with you? Would his jealousy—no, not jealousy—be obvious to Morgan, to you?

Aside from the noise coming from the TV, the next few minutes passed in relative silence after Morgan crashed down next to him. Their previous conversation already partially forgotten, Joel became focused on the shitty reality show that had started to play without them noticing earlier. 

“Look, it’s not like I’m an idiot,” Morgan started suddenly, scaring him slightly. Joel’s head turned toward him, brow lifting in question. Morgan glanced at him before returning his gaze to the TV and continuing. “It’s just, yea. Maybe you’re right.”

He trailed off, leaving him to wait. “And?”

Morgan rolled his eyes and shuffled further into the couch. “And, I don’t know if I even have a soulmate,” he steamrolled on, “Just because I might not doesn’t mean—doesn’t mean no one does, you know? I don’t want to be the selfish asshole who gets into a relationship with someone who might have a perfect match waiting for them, someone that isn’t me.” 

“You don’t know if you have a soulmate?” The piece of information stuck out to him. Hit him in the gut and made his heart jump into his throat.

His roommate shrugged, continued to steadfastly ignore him. “Never had a mark or any of the other shit people had. It’s not—not that big of a deal. But I don’t want to be with someone and always be afraid that they’re going to find what I can’t and leave me behind.” 

Joel swallowed roughly, his heart racing. “Oh,” he mumbled, voice as quiet as Morgan’s had become by the time he had gotten done speaking.

“Yea,” Morgan huffed a bitter sounding laugh, “Oh.”

“You know,” Joel spoke lightly, softly, as though worried that talking too loud would ruin everything, “People always say that things work out in the end, even if it’s shit getting there.”

This time the laugh that escaped Morgan was more real, less cold. “Is that your way of making me feel better, Beezer?”

“Depends,” he smiled, bright at the sound of his laugh, “is it working?”

Morgan threw a pillow at him, it bouncing lightly off his head. “Dude, shut up,” he told him, the smile on his face softening his words. Following his advice, Joel adjusted himself on the couch, heart feeling just a bit lighter than it had previously.

~

“So I was thinking,” Morgan started as you walked down the street together.

“Absolutely shocking, continue,” you cut in, rewarded with a shove as you laughed.

“As I was saying,” he stressed, “You should come over for a game night or something this weekend.”

“Uh,” you stuttered out. “Yea, sure. Sounds fun. Will Joel be there?” You hadn’t meant to sound so shocked, but as it was, you most definitely were. In the what, two, three? Months since you had known Morgan, you never went to his place. Never met his elusive roommate. Sure, you had heard about Joel. It was hard not to when Morgan could—and had—talk for hours about his teammate. 

But you had never met him. And to be honest, at this point you were kinda scared to. 

Sure, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Except he clearly meant the world to Morgan, and well, Morgan meant the world to you. And yea, you weren’t sure when he began to mean so much, but he does. And you want Joel to like you. What if he doesn’t?

“Yea, Beezer’ll be there. Finally get to meet him.” He nudged you lightly, shooting you a smile. Smiling nervously back, you ducked under his arm and into the cafe as he held the door open for you. 

Coming to the little cafe on the corner had become tradition, Morgan falling in love with the shop just as much as you had. It didn’t bother you in the slightest since he pays for you whenever you two come. Which is, to say, far too often.

Placing both of your orders and finding a table, you turned to your friend. “Do you think,” you began nervously, picking at the edge of the table, “do you think he’ll like me? Joel?”

Morgan looked up from his phone and tilted his head. “Of course he will. Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, lying through your teeth. “It’s just, he’s your roommate—and your teammate—and wouldn’t it be, like, a little awkward if he actually hates me?”

Your question seemed to stump Morgan for a minute, his mouth opening and closing, eyebrows scrunched up as he looked at you from across the tiny table. You sat quietly, watching him think over his answer. Eyes wandering his face, your lips quirked as you just managed to pick out the way his lashes curled at the ends. So unfair, you thought, why does he get the long eyelashes? Finally, he seemed to get his words in order.

“Even if he doesn’t like you, which he definitely won’t,” he rushed out the last half, “But if he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like we would stop hanging out or anything. We would just, just keep hanging out the way we have been.”

Watching him, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Promise?” you asked, voice coming out quieter than you had wanted. You hated the way you feared losing Morgan, scared that he had wormed his way into your life so quickly. 

His foot nudged yours under the table, breaking you out of your thoughts. Eyes meeting yours, your heart gave a tug at the sweet smile dancing across his lips. “Yea,” he told you, “I promise.”

Breath catching, you smiled back. “Then this weekend it is.”

~

The weekend came far sooner than you expected. 

“But you’re on your way, right?” Morgan questioned you over the phone. Figured you were running late today of all days. It was Saturday, dammit, you slept in late. That wasn’t a crime.

“Yes, Morg, I’m on my way. Leaving right now,” you reassured him, grabbing your keys off the counter and making your way to your door.

You heard his—frankly, exaggerated—breath of relief even on your end, gaining a fond eye roll out of you. “Okay, good,” he replied, “See you in like, twenty?”

“Uh-huh,” you muttered halfheartedly in response, more focused on locking up behind you. “I’ll see you in twenty.”

The only downside, of course, is that twenty minutes was definitely not enough time to settle your anxiety. And so soon enough, you were at Morgan’s shared apartment, and walking up to Morgan’s shared apartment, and oh god you were in front of his door, oh no—

This is fine. This is fine. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that no matter what, even if Joel didn’t like you, Morgan wouldn’t drop you. He promised. 

Christ, that sounded lame even in your head. 

Psyching yourself up, you raised your hand to their door and knocked. Ignoring the way your hand trembled lightly, you almost jumped when the door swung open faster than you expected.

“Hey,” Morgan appeared in the doorway, beaming down at you, “You made it.”

A snort left you without your permission. “Yea, you dork, I made it.” 

Catching his eye roll, you grinned as he stepped aside and swept his hand out. “Welcome to our apartment.” Your grin widened at how dumb he was and moved past him, brushing lightly against him as you entered. 

Walking in, your eyes caught on the form draped against the couch. Heart stuttering, all the anxiety that had briefly left you came flooding back. Morgan stepped around you, guiding you over to the living room. 

“Hey, asshole, you gonna say hi or what?” he asked, picking up a pillow and throwing it at Joel. It thumped softly onto his chest and rolled off the couch, causing him to glare up at Morgan. 

You stared wide eyed as Joel huffed and slung his legs over the side of the couch, standing up and unfolding to a height similar to Morgan. Giants, you scoffed lightly under your breath, they’re literally giants. Casually, you maneuvered until your body was just barely behind Morgan.

“Sup,” he did a weird head nod thing, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “I’m Joel, it’s uh—it’s nice to finally meet you.”

You smiled weakly up at him. “Y/—” you tried, cutting yourself off and clearing your throat, “Y/N. Nice to finally meet you, too.”

The two of you stared the other down, silence filling the room as Morgan watched the two of you watching each other. Rocking on your heels, you alternated between looking at him and around the room. 

“You know, uh,” Joel started abruptly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his sweats, “Frosty talks a lot about you. Can’t shut up, I don’t think.”

“Dude,” Morgan hissed at him as a laugh slipped past your lips. You felt your cheeks warm, your smile finally feeling less forced and more genuine.

“It’s funny,” you told him, ignoring Morgan, “he talks a lot about you, too. Once he gets started, it seems like he can’t stop.”

“I hate both of you. Why did I think this was a good idea,” Morgan said, throwing his hands up and slipping in between the two of you into what you assumed was the kitchen. The sound of yours and Joel’s laughter followed him, the pair of you sharing a conspirator’s smile. 

Joel was the first to break, his smile lingering as he spared you a glance and followed Morgan. “Don’t be like that, Morg. We’re getting along already. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

Giggling, you walked in after them. “I don’t know what I was worried about,” you teased, sidling up to the counter, “Joel is great.” 

“Oh, you would think so,” Morgan rolled his eyes, pulling a sweet tea out of the fridge and handing it to you. Smiling in thanks, you opened it and took a sip.

“Wait,” Joel stopped and shook his head, “were you actually worried about meeting me?”

Eyes widening and head shooting up, you were positive panic flitted across your face. “Uhhh,” you started, shifting from foot to foot and shrugging, “A little? I mean, you’re his roommate and teammate and he talks about you all the time—”

“—I do not—”

“Yea, you do, Morg,” you laughed, glancing over at him before returning your attention to Joel. “But, yea. After so long without meeting, I guess I kinda built you up in my head and I got worried you wouldn’t like me and things would, I don’t know, be awkward for Morgan. It’s dumb.”

It was dumb, you realized, standing there. Joel was...you didn’t even know how to describe it. He was soothing. Calming in the same way Morgan was to you, like a balm to your anxiety. Easy to talk to, joke with. It had barely been ten minutes and already you could tell that. It was the same feeling that made you let Morgan buy you another drink when you first met.

“It’s not dumb,” he told you, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, “I guess I felt the same way.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. For some reason, you didn’t really expect him to feel much of, well, anything when it came to meeting you.

Grinning, he nudged your foot. “Don’t look so shocked. Even NHLers have feelings, you know.”

“Shut up,” both you and Morgan chorused, glancing at each other before laughing. It was then you realized how close the three of you were, the kitchen not exactly the largest room. If you moved one way, you’d bump into Morgan. If you moved the other, it would be Joel. 

“Wanna play fortnite or something?” Morgan asked, clearing your thoughts. He knew you well enough to figure out what the scrunch of your nose after his suggestion meant. “Or not fortnite, you have a better idea?”

“What else do you guys have?” You asked, hoping against odds they would have something that wasn’t completely awful. 

Joel and Morgan shared a look, communicating silently. 

“Uhh,” Joel started, “I think we have like, Skyrim? Never got around to playing it, though.”

Eyes immediately brightening, you straightened. You almost didn’t notice how the move brought you that much closer to him. “Dude, Skyrim came out like ten years ago. How have you never played?”

“Looks like Skyrim, it is,” Morgan muttered, squeezing past you to the living room. 

“I don’t know,” Joel tried to defend himself, “It’s not what I usually play.”

“Well, that changes today, buddy.” 

“Did you just call him buddy, oh my god,” you heard Morgan’s voice distantly, covered mostly by Joel’s shocked snort. 

Thirty minutes later found the three of you sprawled across the couch, limbs just barely intertwining as Joel tried still to make his way through the character creation screen. 

“Is that a cat? Do they have fucking furries in this game?”

“I swear, I’m gonna throw my sweet tea at you,” you threatened while swallowing down laughter at Joel’s commentary.

“Do it, I’m not getting you another one,” Morgan told you, his hand lying lightly on the bottom of your calf. 

“Yea, you would,” you smiled over at him. 

A snort came from Joel’s direction, followed by, “Dude, you would.”

“Shut the fuck up, Beezer, I didn’t ask you.”

Mock gasping, you reached over and hit Morgan’s shoulder, eliciting a sharp ‘hey’ from him. “No being mean to each other,” you laughed, settling back down, shoulder brushing against Joel’s side.

“You heard the lady, Frosty,” Joel smirked, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“I’m never letting the two of you hang out again,” Morgan groaned, throwing his head back. His thumb had paused in the motion of rubbing circles into your leg. 

Exchanging a glance with the boys, you smiled. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

~

“You know,” you had innocently told Morgan and Joel a few days ago, “it’s kinda funny that two of my closest friends are professional ice hockey players and I’ve never even gone skating before.”

He was shocked at the revelation. Horrified, even. And definitely planning on rectifying that minor fact, something Joel fully supported and helped plan. Sadly, it took a few days before he and Joel were both home and didn’t have practice or a game and you didn’t have classes or homework, leaving the three of you able to hang out. 

He always counted it as a minor miracle when all of your schedules lined up. In the months he and Joel had known you, it happened far less than he would’ve liked. But as much as it felt better, more…more right, for it to be the three of you—which was normal, you were best friends; he didn’t like one of you more than the other—he took what he could get and didn’t complain. 

Much.

That’s how Morgan found himself at an ice rink with his two closest friends on his day off, watching one of them tie the other’s skate.

“You could’ve done this yourself,” Joel told you, fingers making quick work of your laces.

You beamed down at him, a satisfied little smile on your face, “But you do it so much better than me.”

Morgan laughed to himself, bending down to finish lacing up his own skates. Joel had gotten his done first and found himself helping you, not that he exactly put up a fight. Finishing up, he stood and leaned against the boards, peering down as Joel worked. 

“You waiting for us? That’s so sweet,” you smiled up at him, resting your weight on your hands behind you. 

Joel huffed a laugh and half turned to look over his shoulder at him, flashing him a smirk, the asshole. “Our Morgan? He’s just a sweetheart, isn’t he?”

Morgan reached out and kicked him, mindful of the blade of his skate. Rolling his eyes, he maneuvered around both of you and stepped out onto the ice. 

“Just for that, I’m going without the both of you.”

Hearing the teasing calls of his name accompanied by laughter, he smiled and went to do laps around the rink. Slowly he went through the motions, glancing behind him now and then to see if Joel had finished yet. 

When he finally did, Morgan made his way back to the two of you. “You ready to see what you’ve been missing out on?” He teased, eyes catching on the way you wobbled unsteadily and clutched tightly to Joel’s arm next to you. 

“Quick question,” your laugh came out high pitched and as unsteady as your walk, “just how hard is skating?”

“Please, don’t worry,” Joel scoffed, shortening his steps to help you. Morgan watched his teammate stabilize you, the steady rock to your choppy sea. “Skating is one of the easiest things in the world.”

“Okay, let me rephrase,” a cheeky smile flitted across your lips, “how hard is skating for us normal people?”

He shared a fond look with Joel, laughing quietly. “Trust us, you’ll be fine.” 

“I do,” you responded without a moment’s hesitation, pausing in your baby steps before continuing. “Trust you, I mean.”

The breath left his lungs in a quick rush, not expecting that, not expecting how sincere and matter of fact you had said it or how it affected him. It wasn’t fair, how quickly you could throw him off balance with what seemed like barely a thought. 

Joel cleared his throat, his hand tightening around yours. “Good,” he told you, voice remarkably soft and low before returning to normal. “I guess it’s time to get you on the ice, then?”

Morgan had to laugh a little at the fear that filled your face at Joel’s words, the way you immediately clung somehow even tighter to him. Smiling, he reached out to you, offering you his hand.

“You said you trusted us,” he told you, “So trust us. We’re not gonna let you get hurt.”

He watched your eyes meet his and fly down to his outstretched hand, back and forth between the two. One of your hands slowly let go of their iron grip on Joel and settled into his.

“Promise?” You looked from him to Joel, eyes painfully doelike. 

Once again, he shared a soft glance with his teammate before looking back at you. 

“We promise.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath and appearing to steel yourself. “Okay, alright, I’m good. Let’s fucking do this.”

Laughter peeled out of him and Joel. “There’s our Y/N,” his teammate grinned, helping you out onto the ice. The two of them kept their grips on you tight as you shakily stepped onto the ice, making sure you didn’t immediately fall.

Your first steps were wobbly, with the only thing keeping you from eating ice being him and Joel. Slowly, the three of you made your way across the ice. “There you go,” he encouraged you, “just like that. Slow and steady for right now—”

“Head up, try not to look down so much, alright? We’ve got you,” Joel reassured, the two of them going back and forth, offering advice and making sure nothing happened.

It took a bit, but soon you were giggling and flashing them pretty smiles, your grip on them loosening slowly but surely. It was enough for Morgan to speed up and swing around to skate backward in front of you.

Catching your worried glance, he smiled. “Still here, just letting you skate more on your own,” he squeezed your hand, now being held more for assurance than to help keep you up.

And so the three of you kept skating around the rink with you getting more and more confident until you were on your own and no longer needed them to hold on to. Morgan watched proudly as you went from wobbly steps to actual skating, though your arms still stayed out by your sides for balance. 

“Show off,” you yelled and laughed, attempting to shove Joel when he went to skate in wide circles around both of you. 

“What?” Joel threw his hands up, laughing loudly and dodging you. “I’m just skating circles around you.” 

“Ha ha,” Morgan grinned when you sarcastically laughed at Joel’s antics. “You’re simply hilarious, you dork.”

“I know,” Joel smiled happily, swooping in to smack a loud kiss to your cheek before speeding away. The kiss nearly knocked you over, leaving you gawking after him.

Morgan observed the two of you as he glided in front of you, a wide smile stretching across his lips. Small huffs of laughter left you as you skated—still not great, but definitely better—over to him, grabbing his hand and trying to tug him. 

“Morgan, come on,” you giggled, “help me avenge my honor.” 

“Oh, of course,” he replied, nodding his head in mock seriousness. He pulled you along in chase of Joel, the three of you laughing as you went around and around the rink. 

It wasn’t until you two caught him—Morgan suspected Joel had let them catch him, like they wouldn’t have been able to eventually—and Joel decided to try to teach you how to skate backward as Morgan followed that he realized something. 

He realized as he watched the two of you smiling and laughing, as he skated behind while Joel held your hands, as both of you made corny jokes and looked back at him to make sure he was still with you, he realized that—fuck.

He was fucked. 

Because he looked at you and heard your laughter and felt his heart tighten. Because he looked at Joel and the way he looked back at him with a fond look and toothy grin, and his heart stopped.

Because he looked at both of you and felt the same exact thing. And he realized it didn’t feel right when all three of you were together because you were just his closest friends. 

It was because when he was with the two of you, his heart skipped beats and all of these feelings weighed him down and lifted him up and—and—

Fuck. He was well and truly fucked, that’s what he realized.

~

Humming quietly under your breath, you picked up the plates from the table and made your way back to the kitchen. Stepping around Morgan, you reached down to put the dishes into the sink for him to wash. After you let them sit, you hoisted yourself up and onto the counter next to him and watched as he grabbed for one of the dirty plates.

“You think Joel will be back soon?” You asked him, tilting your head and pursing your lips. 

Morgan met your gaze and held it as he washed the plate. “Hopefully, we can’t start the movie without him.”

Dinner and a movie at their place. It was almost like a date if you let yourself think about it. But you didn’t, because they’re just your friends.

Your tall, attractive friends that you had completely platonic feelings for. Okay, mostly platonic feelings for. Fine, not at all platonic and actually very romantic feelings, but you refused to think about it. There were two of them and one of you and that, that was weird. Right? 

Right?

Kicking yourself mentally, you shot him a tiny smile. “Do we even want to know what he chose this time?” Every movie night, a different one of you had complete control over the movie. Tonight was, regretfully, Joel’s night to choose and he refused to tell either of you what you were watching. 

It went without saying that you were a bit scared. 

“I don’t think so,” Morgan made a face, putting another plate in the dish rack. You laughed lowly to yourself, watching a smile creep over his face as he glanced back at you.

“Either way,” you told him, “he needs to get back soon, I’m starting to miss the weirdo.” Shimmying down from the countertop, you walked over to the fridge to get a drink. 

Morgan made a noise of agreement, finishing up and turning off the sink. He turned to face you, grabbing a hand towel from next to him and leaning against the counter. He stared down at you without responding; the action causing you to grin slightly in confusion. 

“What’s up?” You questioned him, stretching your foot out to lightly tap his.

Head shaking slowly, his mouth opened a bit. Closing it, his eyebrows squished together in what seemed like deep thought. 

“Do you ever think about your soulmate?”

The question caught you off guard, making your body physically recoil just a touch. You shook your head, mouth hanging open. “Uhhh,” you stuttered, a startled laugh making its way past your lips. “Not if I can help it, why?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, brows still furrowed and an intent look painted across his face.

Shrugging, your eyes flitted around the room. At your side, your fingers twitched against the counter, creating a muted tapping noise. “Nothing, just...I don’t know. It’s not my favorite subject. You?”

“Yea,” he said with a forced smile, “Same thing, I guess. Not if I can help it.” 

You hummed softly, trying to figure out his expression and the change in subject. You couldn’t recall ever, ever, talking about soulmates with either Morgan or Joel. Not in the entire time you had known them. It was like some sort of weird unspoken taboo topic, never brought up, never talked about despite how popular it was for everyone else. Never asking what your soulmark was, or what date was splayed across your skin. Like there was a sense of fear lingering around it, which made sense for you but never for your boys. 

The boys. Not—not your boys, you scolded yourself.

“It’s just, you and Joel,” Morgan started, scaring you a little. “The two of you get along really well.”

Was he? Was he implying that you and Joel? Soulmates?

For a split second, your mind ran wild with the thought. To be soulmates with Joel, with his smiles for just you and Morgan, and his wild hair and dumb hats, and horrible facial hair and horrible jokes and—

How nice it would be. How irrevocably nice it would be. 

But even as you let yourself think about it for that split second, you knew it wasn’t what you wanted. Not entirely. Because it wasn’t just Joel in your daydream, but Morgan, too. With his pretty eyes and the look of exasperation he always had when he was with the two of you. The three of you. 

Always the three of you.

Shaking your head before you knew what you were doing, you replied, “Me and Joel? No, no, I mean—”

“You’re always happy and smiling around him,” Morgan cut you off, not making eye contact, “maybe the two of you—”

“I’m always happy and smiling because I’m with the two of you, you idiot,” you rolled your eyes as you cut him off in return, ignoring the way your heart pounded in your chest. 

He pursed his lips, about to retort when the sound of the door opening caught your attention. 

“Alright, assholes. I’ve got the goods,” Joel’s voice called out, the door closing behind him and keys clattering loudly into the horrible gritty tray you had gotten them. You and Morgan remained quiet as Joel made his way into the kitchen, digging around in the bag he was holding. 

He paused upon entering, eyes lifting to look from you to Morgan and back. His arms slowly fell, his face screwing up in cautious confusion. “So, uh, what did I...miss?” he asked, stepping inside apprehensively. 

“Soulmates, apparently,” you told him sarcastically when Morgan kept silent. You made grabby hands for the bag, reaching in to grab your bag of peach rings. 

Joel winced, a just barely audible ‘oh boy’ falling from his lips. “What got you on that god awful subject?”

You snorted, already shoving a peach ring into your mouth, “So you agree? It’s an awful subject?”

“Oh yea,” he nodded, reaching over and tugging at the peach ring balancing between your teeth before it tore in half, shoving his stolen half into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously. 

Pulling back, you batted at his outstretched hands, “you should’ve gotten your own. Stop stealing, thief.”

“I prefer the term rogue,” he replied, shooting you a cheeky grin. A soft ‘oh my god’ left you with a groan as you rolled your eyes and set the bag down.

Morgan’s continued silence worried you, and you could tell it unnerved Joel just as much. You stole glances at him, his posture tense and face troubled. The whole soulmates thing wasn’t your favorite, but what was going on inside of his head that had him like this? Was he still thinking about you and Joel—which was a ridiculous idea. But maybe that’s just because you knew the truth you resolved yourself to. That you just didn’t, for some unknown reason, have a soulmate to begin with. 

“What’s going on in your big boy brain,” Joel nodded at Morgan, eyebrow quirking as he watched him.

Morgan startled almost imperceptibly, his attention shooting to his teammate. He shook his head, “Nothing, just the whole soulmates thing.” 

“Still?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, puzzled. 

“Dude, just move on already,” Joel told him.

Morgan rolled his eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot. You saw his grip on the countertop behind him tighten for a second before relaxing again.

“What’s going on?” You asked him, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm.

He flinched back, a tiny movement that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already watching. Swallowing roughly, you stopped and let your hand fall, hurt coating your insides. Morgan licked his lips and rubbed at his chin, face screwing up. 

“Don’t either of you ever think about the people you have feelings for being a perfect match for someone else? That it doesn’t matter what you feel in the end?”

Taken aback, you share a look with Joel as you grasped for words. Because you do think about that, about how Joel and Morgan have someone waiting for them that isn’t you and you don’t know when it’ll happen, only that it will and you’ll end up left behind like you always are. Alone. It wasn’t often, but late at night, the knowledge crept over you like thick sludge, refusing to move or leave.

“All the time,” Joel spoke before you could string together a sentence, his voice weak and a frown marring his features. “But it does matter, doesn’t it? Because you still have time with them now, and you can’t waste it for something that might happen.” 

“But it will,” Morgan stressed, the hand that had rubbed his chin flying out to his side with a look of helplessness. “It will happen.” 

“But you don’t know that,” you countered, fighting to get the words out. Your throat was tightening up, your heart pounding away. “No one really does. You don’t even have to end up with your soulmate.”

“Why wouldn’t you,” Morgan laughed without humor, “why wouldn’t you leave to be with the person hand picked for you?”

“Because I don’t have one,” slipped past your lips without your permission, the truth behind your words hitting you like a brick. Tears pricked behind your eyes as you swallowed harshly, stepping into yourself. 

Morgan moved back and hit the counter behind him with a dull thud, staring at you with an unreadable expression. To your other side, Joel looked down at his feet, hands shoved into his pants. 

“I never had one,” you continued, softer, quieter. Weaker. “I’ve always been the person without someone made just for me, but I’ve moved on. Because it doesn’t matter. It’s what I make of it, and it’s the scariest fucking thing, but it is what it is.”

“What if I can’t move on?” Morgan whispered, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Then the people you were scared of leaving weren’t worth it to begin with,” Joel told him, gazing at him sadly. 

Morgan’s face dropped forward into his hands, rubbing harshly. The three of you were silent, the tension nearly suffocating. Waiting, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I can’t just get over it,” Morgan said, shaking his head. 

“Why not,” Joel questioned just as quietly, running a hand through his hair. 

“Because I just can’t,” Morgan threw his hands up, voice raised as he stepped forward. “I can’t stop thinking that my feelings are a waste. That all of this is just a waste.”

“All of this?” You asked, uncomprehending.

“Yes, all of this,” he told you, gesturing wildly between the three of you. “Us. This. It’s a waste.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Morgan,” Joel was the one to ask this time, his voice low and daring. Daring Morgan to say it, to tell you exactly what he means.

“That I look at both of you and see two people who are going to leave me. Two people that I care about, that I want to be with, and know that it won’t last.”

The shock that came from him admitting his feelings and finally giving you the knowledge that you weren’t alone in your pining all these months still wasn’t enough to overwhelm the rest of his confession. The part that said that we were a waste, that cut a part of you that you kept hidden.

“Did you ever stop and think about how we felt?” The words left you as you stepped away, needing to get away. “That we might, for just a second, feel the same?” 

“But it doesn’t matter,” Morgan nearly cried, voice shaking. “It never did.” 

Nodding, you swallowed down tears. “Okay,” you whispered, maneuvering around Joel, who had remained quiet. “Okay.” 

“Where are you going?” Morgan asked, reaching toward you.

Nearly laughing, you told him, “Away. I’m sorry, Joel, but I can’t be near someone who thinks everything about us, our friendship, our relationship, our feelings, are a waste. Not right now.”

Joel nodded, glancing back at you and offering a weak smile. “Don’t worry, I get it.” 

Returning it, you turned and went to grab your things. 

“Wait,” you heard Morgan before you saw him try to follow you, looking between you and Joel. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It doesn’t matter, Morg,” you whispered, shrugging lightly. “I’m gonna go for awhile. I need to go.”

“No, please—”

Dodging him, you left the apartment. Vaguely, you heard Joel tell Morgan to stop, to let you go. Silently, you thanked him. You just couldn’t be near them right now, constantly reminded of your feelings and knowing at least one of them thought it was all useless.

All of this is just a waste. Us. This.

You nearly ran out of the building and to your car, just barely making it in before a yell forced its way out.

“Fuck,” you hit the steering wheel, letting your head droop forward to rest on it. You gave yourself a minute to pull yourself together and turn your car on, starting your journey back to the apartment you had slowly considered home less and less. 

And so you drove away from the one you had begun to consider home, and from the boys that made it feel like that, and to the place you could finally let yourself break down.

~

Day after day became a week and then two. There was now this tension between him and Morgan, you weren’t replying to his texts the same way, and he wasn’t even sure if you and Morgan had talked at all since that night. He hated it.

Joel hated this. 

It didn’t help that everything was bleeding over onto the ice and he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop making rookie mistakes, couldn’t do anything when Morgan got yelled at for fucking up on a play. Couldn’t do anything.

The two of them were this close to getting benched, they both knew it. He knew this couldn’t keep happening, but he didn’t know how to stop it. 

He saw his phone light up on his nightstand out of the corner of his eye. Mentally, he debated leaving it and continuing his inner dilemma, but a glance at it convinced him otherwise.

Sitting up in bed, he struggled against the blankets tangled around his legs to reach over and grab it. He crashed back down, lifting his phone above him and pulling up the text.

[10:38pm] armrest ; coffee tomorrow? 

Seeing the name he had you under brought out a grin. You hated it the moment you saw it and argued that everyone was short next to a group of hockey players, which is exactly why both he and Morgan had you listed as it. In a sense, it was a reminder of better times.

[10:40pm] bumblebee ; yea ofc

[10:40pm] bumblebee ; the two of us?

He didn’t miss the fact that you texted just him and not the groupchat—the one aptly named the 3 stoiges, because Morgan made it with a typo and you and Joel kept it there to bully him. Time after time, Morgan tried to change it, and yet every time he went back, there it was once again in all of its dumbass glory. 

[10:43pm] armrest ; yea i wanted to talk about everything. just the two of us for now

[10:44pm] bumblebee ; im there just lmk when

You texted him back the time, and that was that. The entire exchange left him feeling underwhelmed and anxious. It felt wrong. Stilted. He missed the jokes and subtle digs at each other. The goodnight texts that just kept on going. 

He had a hard time going to sleep after that, not that he was doing a good job of it before. Tossing and turning, knowing that his teammate was his roommate and just a door over and that it didn’t matter because they hadn’t actually talked since the fight. And probably wouldn’t, since that was how things seemed to be going.

But tomorrow, maybe tomorrow would change things.

~

Morning came and went and he woke up to his alarm, feeling the opposite of well rested. He had slept like shit, just like he had been for the past two weeks. Getting out of bed, he got ready to go meet up with you, ignoring the absence of Morgan in the kitchen or on the couch. The lack of a good morning and a smile from his arguably favorite teammate. 

He left the apartment in a rush, something he had found himself doing a lot of lately. Not on purpose, he didn’t think. It was just like a lot of other things in his life now; it felt different. Less warm, duller. Void of life, of everything that made it home to him. 

An open bag of peach rings still abandoned on the kitchen counter, never moved. A little shittily made origami crane knocked over on the coffee table, never fixed. Hoodies missing, never returned. Reminders.

He made it to the little rinky dink cafe on the corner soon enough, refusing to admit he hesitated a bit before he went in. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you at all since that night, but he would be lying if he said it was the same as before. 

You were at their usual table, wearing a recognizable sweatshirt—one of theirs, but at this point he wasn’t really sure if it his or Morgan’s—and clutching a cup in your hands with a cup sitting across from you. Hearing the bell ring, you looked up and spotted him, giving him a tiny smile.

He didn’t want to think about the way the sight made the tension bleed from his body, the familiarity filling him with a rush of warmth. He made the short walk to you, slipping into one of the open seats.

Both of you ignored the still empty third seat.

“You’re late,” you told him, with just enough of a smile to take the edge off. 

He grinned back. “You telling me you weren’t, too?”

Your laughter rang softly through the mostly empty cafe. “No.”

“Thought so,” he replied, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. His go to order, just the way he always got it. 

God, he missed you. 

A few beats of silence passed with the two of you just soaking up the other’s presence. 

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands and picked at your nail. “I think it’s probably time we talk about…”

“That night?” he finished for you. “Yea. I think so, too.”

Another pained smile passed between both of you. Another beat of silence. 

“You know—I mean—” you tried to say, taking a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I care about you and Morgan. About both of you. Not—not platonically either.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading, the heat creeping into his cheeks. “Yea, I figured.” You deadpanned at him and he had to resist the laugh bubbling up inside of him. He nudged your foot under the table. “Me, too. Non-platonically care about both of you.” 

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes, grinning, “I figured.”

Letting the laugh out, he shook his head. “Ass.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, “You started it.”

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” you whispered back, smile gaining a sorrowful edge.

Staring at you, he felt so many emotions. So many things, and yet something was still missing. 

Licking his lips, he risked a glance to his right, at the empty seat next to him. “It doesn’t—things don’t really feel the same without him, though.” 

“Yea,” you looked at the chair for a second, pain flashing across your face so fast he almost didn’t catch it. “They don’t.”

Hearing you agree, he let the breath he had been holding go. He picked at his cup, resisting the urge to down it. Dimly, he realized you had gotten his coffee before he got there. Which meant you bought it for him. The broke college student who rarely gets anything from here got him coffee without thinking twice. That feeling in his chest grew, fondness for you radiating throughout him. It was a small gesture, one you probably barely thought about, but it made him fall even harder.

“You know, I keep,” you stopped, tilting your head with a jaded smile before steamrolling on, “I keep hearing him say it in my head. ‘Everything’s a waste.’ And I know he didn’t—didn’t mean it like that, but…”

“But it still hurts,” he finished for you quietly, watching you and the way your shoulders hunched forward. 

“Yea, it still hurts.”

“We’re all just miserable anymore, aren’t we?” he asked, knowing the answer and asking anyway.

You laughed softly, glancing up at him. “That we are.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“No,” you held eye contact, steady and intent, “It wasn’t.”

The bell above the door jingled, your conversation dying down. The two of you nursed your drinks, avoiding the painful subject. Pushing it off and dragging it out just a little more.

“I don’t want us to end here, Joel,” you told him, voice barely a whisper. “Not like this. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“I don’t think I could either,” he replied. He could handle not being everything he wanted with the two of you. He resigned himself to that a long time ago. Could handle not being in a relationship, unable to hold or kiss either of you, to look at you and know both of you were his.

He could handle that. What he couldn’t handle? 

This. 

These past two weeks, the three of you barely talking. The tension, the awkwardness, the lack of everything that made you work. Not having either of you really, truly, in his life anymore. 

“I’m gonna talk to him,” he told you, not letting himself think too hard about it. He nodded, ignoring your unreadable expression, and kept talking. “I’m gonna talk to him and then we’re gonna—we’re gonna—”

“We’re gonna fix things?” You croaked out, gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip.

“Yea,” his throat tightened, making him force out the words, “Yea, we’re gonna fix things.”

~

He cornered Morgan later that night in the kitchen when he finally came out of his room to get something to eat. 

“We need to talk.”

Morgan jumped, keeping his back turned to Joel as he dug through the fridge. “About what?” He asked, the forced casualness of it shining clear.

“I think you know what.”

He slowly drew himself up and closed the fridge. “I don’t think—”

“Yea, we do,” he cut his roommate off, his arms folded across his chest. “We both know we do.”

Morgan turned around, facing him with his eyes closed and shaking his head. “Please—”

“We can’t keep going on like this, none of us can,” Joel forcibly told him, refusing to back down. He was doing this for them, for you and for Morgan and for him. “I was with Y/N earlier.”

Morgan flinched back, ducking his head. “Yea? How—how is—”

“Good,” he softened his voice, uncrossing his arms and taking a step toward him. “Come on, let's go sit down.”

“Okay,” Morgan whispered, nodding and following him slowly to the couch. They sat further away than they usually would, a space left open for the one not there with them. 

Joel opened his mouth to start, but Morgan cut him off before he could.

“I’m so sorry,” he told him, avoiding eye contact. Clenching his hands tightly on his lap, he squeezed them periodically. “I didn’t—didn’t mean anything I said that night. Not really. Not like that.”

“I know.” 

“I was just scared,” he kept going, still not looking at him, “I still am. Fuck, I wish I could go back and just—”

“Morgan,” Joel stopped him, getting up and moving to sit down on the table in front of him. “Look at me.”

It took a second, took him reaching out and nudging his face toward him. 

“We know. We’re all scared. And we can’t take back what was said, but we can move forward. Together. The three of us.” 

Morgan shook his head, tears lining his eyes as he leaned imperceptibly into his hand. “How?” 

He almost laughed, but stopped himself in time. “I don’t know,” he shrugged helplessly, smiling at him. “But we will. Because we care about each other. That’s all that matters.”

“Yea?” 

“Yea,” he laughed this time, his hand pressing further into Morgan’s face, the other coming up to rest on his knee. 

Morgan’s hand found his, and they stayed like that for a while, taking comfort in finally being near each other again. Mentally, physically. 

“I missed this,” Morgan told him, blinking softly up at him. 

Joel grinned back, “Well, I don’t know if we’ve ever done anything like this before, but—”

Morgan scoffed, rolling his eyes and pushing him away. One of his hands came up to subtly wipe at his eyes and Joel pretended not to notice as he reached out and pulled him back to him. 

Hand threaded in his hair, he tugged him in to rest his head against his neck. “Kidding,” he laughed, turning to nuzzle into Morgan’s hair. “But seriously, I did, too.”

Morgan’s hand squeezed his side, the two of them lapsing back into silence. At least, until he broke it.

“So, which one of us is gonna text our better part?” 

~

[8:17pm] frostbite ; come over?

The text from Morgan lit your phone screen and sent your heart into a steady gallop. You knew Joel was going to talk to him, but for some reason, you hadn’t thought it would be so soon. 

Was it bad that you didn’t feel ready?

Honestly, if you thought about it, you didn’t think you would ever feel ready. In a way, this was the buildup of months of dancing around each other. It was terrifying, that tonight everything would be out in the open.

You would be lying if you said a part of you couldn’t wait.

[8:19pm] armrest ; omw over

Rushing around, you put on shoes and threw back on the hoodie you were wearing earlier when you saw Joel. You grabbed your keys and locked the door behind you, making your way to your car. 

The drive to their apartment was short, though it still took everything in you to obey the traffic laws on the way there. The walk up filled you with even more anxiety, your hands shaking despite your best attempts to settle your nerves.

You knocked lightly on their door, unable to manage more than a mediocre tap. Luckily, it was Joel that opened the door, beckoning you inside with a hand on your waist. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, sending heat into your cheeks.

“He’s in the kitchen making tea,” Joel told you, closing the door behind you. 

You nodded, dropping your keys onto the Gritty tray. Together, you made your way to the kitchen. 

Seeing Morgan for the first time in two weeks, after not having spoken at all was...was strange. It hit you like a fist to the gut. 

You saw how exhausted Joel looked earlier, disheveled and messy. But compared to Morgan, he looked only a bit different from usual. Morgan, though—

He looked rough. 

Heavy bags under his eyes, hair wild, clothes wrinkled. Even his shoulders were hunched in more than usual. Your heartstrings tugged just looking at him. 

“Hey,” he mumbled when he looked up and saw you, mustering up a weak smile. 

Slowly, you made your way to where he stood. He set down the cup of tea he was reaching out to offer you, worry plastered on his face.

He took a deep breath and started to talk, “Look, I’m so sor—”

You caused him to stop mid-sentence, throwing your arms around him and gripping tight. “You’re such an asshole,” you told him, voice muffled in his shirt. Burying your face deeper, his arms came up and wrapped tightly around you.

“I know,” he said, laying his head on yours, “I’m so sorry.” 

You didn’t respond, taking the moment to really let everything sink in. Giving him one last squeeze, you let go and stepped back, picking up the mug that you claimed as yours on one of your first visits.

“Living room?” you asked, smiling at the two of your boys—because you finally let yourself give in and call them that, because they were yours and you didn’t plan on letting go so easily. 

“Living room, it is,” Joel answered, reaching around to grab his mug and guide you over. Morgan followed behind, staying close. 

Like none of you could bear to be more than a few feet anymore. It was just a tad ironic at this point. 

The three of you settled down in your usual seats, with you in the middle, Joel to your right, and Morgan on the left. You put your tea down after taking a sip, smiling when it tasted exactly how Morgan always makes it for you. 

“So, I guess this is where we talk about everything,” Morgan said, putting his cup down next to yours and turning to face the two of you. 

Joel followed suit, nodding. “That it is.”

For a second, the three of you sat there in silence, looking around at each other. 

“Any volunteers to go first?” You ventured finally, raising your eyebrows. Your question earned you a pair of laughs. 

“I’m the one that started this mess, so I’ll go, I guess.” Morgan darted his tongue out to lick his lips, glancing between the two of you. 

“That night, I let my fear take over. And I know I’ve already told both of you, but I’m sorry.”

“Morgan,” you tried, but he stopped you. 

“Let me talk,” he smiled, so you let him. “At that point, I just really let myself consider that I had feelings for the two people I thought of as my closest friends. And it made me scared, because there are soulmates out there and I know—I think—I don’t have one. But as far as I knew, both of you did. The thought of losing you to someone I had no chance against, it made me lash out. 

That was wrong. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. We’re adults, mostly, and I should’ve handled it better. I’m sorry.”

You were aware you were gaping a little, but you were unsure on how to stop. Joel got his bearings back before you.

“Yea, you definitely handled it like shit,” he said, shrugging and getting a snort out of you and a ‘fucking hell’ from Morgan. “But it is what it is. It got the ball rolling and we can’t go back. We can only go on.”

“When the fuck did you get good at talking about your feelings?” You turned to him, an incredulous look on your face. “Seriously, you were like the last person I expected to be spouting off relationship wisdom.”

“What can I say,” he grinned, “I’m a man of wisdom. Isn’t that why you care about me non-platonically?”

“Why do I like you,” Morgan muttered to himself, covering his eyes, “Literally why.”

“Moving on,” you announced, choking back a laugh, “On the subject of soulmates, as far as I’m aware, I don’t have one either, so there’s that. And right now, I don’t know if me having one would even stop me from wanting to at least see if this is something worth having. Which I think it is.”

“Yea, I remember you mentioning the soulmate lack,” Joel nodded, “And I agree, with the second part.”

Bumping his shoulder, you went to pick up your tea. 

“So that’s two out of three?” Morgan asked, looking at both of you.

“Make that three out of three,” Joel butted in, raising his hand. “Like 99% sure I don’t either.”

“So none of us have soulmates?” You looked between Morgan and Joel. “Really?”

“Lucky?” Morgan hazarded a guess. 

“I’ll take it.” Joel grinned.

“And to clarify, there are mutual feelings here? Threeway feelings?” 

“Don’t—don’t call it that,” you replied to Morgan, wincing. “That’s just bad.”

“I don’t know,” Joel told you, grinning, “I like it. Threeway Feelings. New groupchat name?”

“Yes.”

“No.” 

You glared at Morgan, repeating, “No, motion overruled.”

“You’re two to one,” Joel teased.

Smiling sweetly back, you told him, “Cute that you think this is a democracy.”

Laughter rang through the apartment. It was almost like the past two weeks had never happened at all. 

“But let me clarify,” Joel started, sitting up straighter and holding up a hand, fingers up, “All of us think we’re soulmate-less, and even if we’re not, it’s something we’ll deal with when we get there,” one finger down, “All of us have feelings for the other two people in this room,” another finger, “and we’re not dating yet?”

“Correct,” you confirmed.

“Sounds about right so far,” Morgan nodded.

“But we should, though,” Joel said, glancing at you, “Date, I mean. It’s the next logical step, right?”

“Kinda worrying when he uses logic,” you leaned over to stage whisper to Morgan. 

He nodded, leaning close, “I agree.”

“I’m right here, jackasses,” Joel threw a throw pillow at Morgan, apparently taking the name literally. 

“Were you? I couldn’t tell,” Morgan replied sarcastically, throwing it back. 

Closing your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath and tried not to laugh. 

“I agree with Joel, though,” you told them, stopping them in their tracks. “About dating.”

“You wanna date us?” Morgan asked you, Joel pointing at him to back up his question. 

Rolling your eyes, you smiled, “Yes, I wanna date you. Do you wanna date me?”

You felt ridiculous for asking, like a flashback to kindergarten with a note saying ‘do you like me? yes or no’.

“I don’t know, what are the options?” Joel asked, pretending to think about it.

“Yes or yes,” you deadpanned.

“I think I’m gonna have to go with yes on that one,” Morgan told you, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’m gonna have to go with yes, as well,” Joel nodded, kissing your other cheek. 

“Okay,” you tried to ignore the pulsating heat in your cheeks. 

“Wait,” Morgan stopped, clearing his throat and looking over at Joel, “Are we? I mean—”

“Dating?” Joel asked, lips quirking into a soft smile. 

Morgan nodded, staying quiet. 

Joel shook his head and laughed, “Yea, I think I could manage dating both of you.”

“Yea?” Morgan smiled. 

“Yea.” Joel returned it.

“Cool,” Morgan said, running a hand through his hand before stopping and frowning. “I know that all of that shitshow was my fault, but we’re never doing that again, right?”

“Oh, seconded,” you immediately replied, “Never again.”

“Thirded,” Joel agreed, nodding wholeheartedly.

You looked at your boys—now officially yours—and smiled. 

~

Their first date, it was decided, would be dinner at Morgan and Joel’s apartment, just the three of them. Private, no pressure. 

You showed up, dressed up but not too much, as per Joel’s vague instructions, at 8pm on the dot, making it the only time you were ever on time for something. You liked to think that if it wasn’t at your boys’ apartment, they’d be late, too.

“Well, don’t you look lovely,” Morgan let you in, bending to kiss your hairline. 

“I could say the same for you,” you replied, taking him in, pressing a kiss to his chin.

Not the usual pre-game suit, you noticed, unable to decide if it was disappointment or relief in your stomach. He was clad in a nice pair of pants, his dark blue button up undone at the top and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Sans shoes, because of course.

On the whole, a very nice look, in your humble opinion.

He noticed your glance down at his lack of footwear and grinned, “Footwear optional.”

“You should’ve mentioned that sooner,” you groaned, bending down to remove your own shoes that had already begun to pinch at your toes. 

He laughed, waiting for you to finish and take his hand, leading you to the kitchen. 

Joel waited for you there, bent over a pot on the stove. Shirt completely unbuttoned, tie hanging around his neck. Shaking your head, you stepped up behind him to wrap your arms around his back, kissing his shoulder blade. 

“Who let you be in charge of dinner?” You teased, catching his eye as he turned around in your embrace to return it. 

“Say the word and we’ll order pizza,” he whispered back into your ear, lips lightly brushing it.

A tingle ran down your spine as you withdrew, sharing a secret smile and ignoring Morgan’s snort. 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” you told him, leaning against a counter. 

A laugh bubbled up and out of you at Morgan’s subtle wince. “Dinner’s just about done, anyway. Guess we’ll find out,” he said, getting out a few plates. 

“So, what exactly is on the menu?” You questioned, unable to quite tell. 

Joel looked up at you, opening his mouth and closing it quickly. “You know,” he answered, hand bracing on the countertop, “I’m not sure if I can pronounce it right.”

Giggles flew out of you even as you felt a sense of apprehension take over. “This is gonna be good.”

Sharing a laugh, you got to work setting the table and bringing over the food, which you cautiously noted smelled somewhat decent. Not—not really entirely good, but decent.

“Not gonna lie,” Joel told both of you once everyone was seated with a plate, “Kinda scared to eat this.”

“You’re really not filling me with confidence here, babe,” you replied, getting a tiny forkful of food. 

“On three?” Morgan proposed. 

“On three,” you and Joel agreed. 

“One,” you started.

“Two,” Joel continued.

“Three.”

You shoved the food into your mouth, barely giving yourself a moment to reconsider. Slowly, you chewed, watching your boyfriends’ faces.

It seemed the general consensus was…not good. 

“I think we fucked up somewhere,” Joel swallowed loudly, grimacing.

“Oh, we definitely did,” Morgan agreed, pushing back his chair and standing. “I’ll get my phone.”

“Pizza?”

“Pizza.”

~

“We’re only here to get essentials,” Morgan reminded the two of you, grabbing a cart. 

You and Joel followed behind, hands swinging between your bodies. “Yea, totally,” you smiled, “Essentials.”

“Of course,” Joel nodded gravely, before turning to you and whispering, “We’re definitely getting the stuff for ice cream sundaes, right?”

Giggling, you nudged into him. “He said essentials, Joel. Obviously, we’re getting the stuff for ice cream sundaes.”

“I can hear both of you, you know,” Morgan called back, looking over his shoulder at the pair of you. 

You shot him a smile and blew him a kiss, knowing Joel was beside you doing something just as cheesy.

The next thing you knew, Joel was speeding up and dragging you along to catch up to your other boyfriend. “I’m getting in,” he dropped your hand, lifting a leg over the side of the cart. 

“No—Joel—oh my god,” Morgan tried to jerk the cart away, laughter spilling out of him.

“Joel, you’re not getting in the cart,” you shoved him, blissfully ignoring the stares coming from the old lady down the aisle. 

Joel pouted exaggeratedly, turning to face you. “Why not?”

In a quick motion, you propelled yourself into the cart. “Because I am!” Your giggles came out maniacal, joined with Joel’s bark of laughter and Morgan’s groan of disappointment. 

“Where’s the food gonna go?” Morgan asked, continuing to push the cart with you in it. 

“In the cart with Y/N,” Joel told him, bumping lightly into his shoulder with a grin. 

You pointed at Joel, agreeing. 

Morgan shook his head, that exasperated fondness prevalent on his face as he sighed and tried not to smile. “Fine,” he relented. 

~

“You know, that monkey kinda looks like you,” Morgan overheard you tell Joel as he paid for the cotton candy. 

“You’re such an ass,” Joel pushed you, laughing. 

“Speaking of asses,” Morgan said, coming up behind you and handing over the cotton candy, “Do you think they have donkeys here?”

You threw your head back with a loud laugh. 

“This is the zoo,” Joel replied, grabbing his hand, “...I actually don’t know. We should check.”

“In the whole zoo, you want to see donkeys?” You asked in bemusement, leaning into him. 

He shrugged, wrapping his unoccupied arm around you. “What can I say, I’m a man with taste.”

“Oh, for sure,” Joel retorted, snorting and squeezing his hand in his own.

~

Limbs tangled, you relaxed on the couch with your boys.

A book in one hand, you carded your fingers through Joel’s hair with the other. Sprawled across your lap as you rested against Morgan, he was the perfect image of relaxation. Rain pattered against the windows as a romcom played in the background, the volume just low enough to zone out. Morgan and Joel—okay, just Morgan, because you were pretty sure Joel was half asleep at this point—were watching, attention set on the tv.

All in all, an excellent night. 

~

Seeing your boys over the summer was difficult, but you made it work. You always did.

It was one of those incredibly rare days where you lounged about in the midsummer heat with them, Morgan and Joel taking a slight break from offseason training to just be together. It was nice, and it was quiet and exactly what you needed. 

You had made the mistake of putting on one of their thinner, more threadbare hoodies last night and the decision was catching up to you. You untangled yourself from the pile of limbs on the bed belonging to your two boyfriends, ignoring their cries of protest, and just barely managed to get up. 

First, you were gonna turn up the air conditioning, and then you were gonna take off this damn hoodie. 

Meandering over to the A/C, you accomplished one mission and moved on to the next one. Pulling the hoodie over your head, you felt your shirt slide up and refuse to separate from it. 

“Hey,” you heard Joel call from behind you, “Did you get a tattoo without telling us?”

Confused, you yanked the hoodie the rest of the way off and turned back to them. “No?” You answered, but it came out less sure than you would’ve liked. 

“I definitely saw something on your back,” Joel insisted, reaching over and swatting at Morgan to get his attention. 

“Hmm?” Morgan grumbled, switching sides to look at you. 

“Come here,” Joel beckoned, an action you reluctantly obeyed. His hand on your hip turned you to face away from him, your back in his line of sight.

You shivered, feeling his fingers glide across your skin as he lifted your shirt. In an instant, you felt his grasp waver, a choked gasp slamming out of him.

“Holy shit,” Morgan breathed, the bed creaking as he shot up. 

Spinning, you turned to face them, grabbing at your back. “What?” You demanded, terrified of their answer, “What it is?”

Adrenaline poured through your veins as Joel lifted his gaze, now wet with tears, to meet yours with a wide smile.

“It’s a soulmate tattoo,” he told you, standing up and cupping your face. His lips came down fast and hard to yours, the emotion behind the kiss slamming into you. 

You felt Morgan come to stand behind you, lifting your shirt to look. His fingers traced down your spine, almost reverently, sending shiver after shiver through your body. 

“Liar,” you croaked when you and Joel split, refusing to believe it. 

Joel shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, “I’m not. Go look in the mirror.”

You pulled away, making your way slowly to the mirror by the door, your boys close behind. You twisted around, craning your head as you pulled up your shirt. Your breath stilled to a halt when scrawled writing along your spine become visible out of the corner of your eye with every inch of skin shown. 

And there, once your shirt was all the way up, was an indisputable soulmate tattoo curving down your spine.

morgan frost ~ joel farabee

The names of your boys—your boys, you nearly cried—written in calligraphy on your body, separated only by three flowers. 

“Soulmates,” Morgan whispered, finger stilling on the flowers. 

Recognition sparked deep in your mind, a memory surfacing behind your eyes.

Your eyes lingered on the flowers lining the pathway, your mind trying futilely to identify which ones they wer—

“I know those flowers,” you mumbled, lips parting as you stared uncomprehendingly. 

Joel laughed a little, fingers running up and down your side. “I didn’t think you were into flowers.”

You shook your head, fixated and unable to look away. “No, I know those flowers. Asters. They were—”

“In the park by the cafe,” Morgan finished for you, catching on, “The day I bumped into you.”

“The day we met,” you said, smiling. “I was trying to figure out what kind they were, it’s why I was distracted. Why we—”

“Met,” Morgan gaped, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. 

You nodded, unable to talk just yet. The sight of those flowers, ones that you hadn’t really given any thought to after you had googled them one day after being curious. Flowers that were now imprinted on your body, a permanent reminder of everything you gained in such a relatively short amount of time.

To your side, you watched Joel take off his shirt and turn around, revealing flowing names down his spine separated by three dainty flowers. 

y/n ~ morgan frost

Morgan mirrored him on your other side and sure enough, there were your names in identical print and the same tiny three flowers. 

joel farabee ~ y/n

A perfect set.

~ fin ~

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [16]

Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17

➜ Words: 3k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

On Wednesday, you begin to bake, cut, and fill.   The ingredients are pulled from the borrowed kitchen — eggs, butter, buttermilk, vegetable oil, sugar, flour, baking powder, unsweetened cocoa powder, and vanilla. The oven is preheated to three hundred degrees fahrenheit and the round pans are greased. The four of you measure and mix together the dry ingredients, and then the wet ingredients.    Once it’s all ready, it’s baked while the ganache filling is worked on. Heavy cream, butter, chocolate, and a pinch of kosher salt are melted together with two tablespoons of brewed coffee to deepen the flavour. It cools and thickens, a fluffy texture that melts against your palate.    And when the moist cake is out of the oven, it cools too before being cut and filled.   “Alright, folks.” Namjoon dusts his hands off, shutting the fridge door. “Now on Friday, we just cover, dowel, and stack. Since the wedding is on Saturday, we want it to sleep overnight.”   “We’re going to have to prepare decorations tomorrow,” Sejeong says. If there was anyone’s cake that she wanted to perfect, it was her own sister’s. “Crumb coat the cakes and smooth the frosting, colour the fondants, make the flowers. Just so we can get it prepared in time and not be rushing on the last day.”    “Okay.” You offer a smile. “Are we still going with lavender?”   “That’s the plan. But we can worry about that tomorrow. How have you two been? Any problems?”   You glance at Jungkook, meeting his eye, but you divert hastily. “N-No, we’re fine. We’ve been enjoying ourselves. Thank you for bringing us along.”   “That’s not a problem.” Namjoon laughs heartily, practically glowing with a healthy tan. “We’re happy to have two more sets of hands. God knows the wedding is hectic and stressful enough, right, honey?”   “Chungha is having it tougher.” His wife sighs. “We’re just glad to get this done and over with.”   In between family feuds and relatives duking it out, you don’t need to tell them that you and Jungkook are incidentally sharing the same room over a mistake in booking. They have enough on their plates as it is.   But just because you don’t talk about your issues doesn’t mean that they’ve magically vanished.   Even if you wish that were the case.   “Morni—”   The moment you open your sleepy eyes, Jeon Jungkook has manifested in the mirror. You choke on your toothpaste, toothbrush sucked into your throat like a vacuum, lodged in. You choke it out and sputter.    Jungkook’s shocked awake, eyes widened as he pats your back.   You cough and rinse your mouth. “Oh my god. You scared me to death!”   “All I said was good morning!” He shoots you a look, leaning in too close with his still sleepy demeanour, fluffed hair and swollen face. “Are you alright?”   “Obviously not! I almost died!”   You’re not okay. Very far from any semblance of ‘okay’.   For one, you can’t look the bastard in the eye. You can’t stop yourself from perspiring. It’s as if your best friend is someone worthy to be fearful of…   No. It’s not that you’ve become afraid of Jungkook. You’re nervous.   “I’m going to shower.”   “Sounds good.”   It shouldn’t be surprising. He even warned you. But the moment Jungkook starts to strip off his shirt, you’re caught off guard at how he didn’t wait for you to leave ⁠— how comfortable he is with you. You have half a mind left to sprint out of the bathroom. Nearly falling over. Barely catching your stumble.    Jungkook watches with his brows raised incredulously.   The bathroom door eventually shuts and you change as quick as you can, and run out of the room without a word. Like you’re being chased by loan sharks.   “Hey, Y/N.” After ten minutes, Jungkook comes out topless, having forgotten to grab a shirt. But he pays no mind, toweling off his head. “We should get room servi—…...Y/N?”   The doe-eyed boy looks around, realizing that you’re gone.   You’ve headed across the resort to the restaurant for breakfast. Finally, you’re able to have a meal in peace without having to lift your head to see a big nose and brown, doe eyes.    You grab a healthy serving of eggs, toast and cereal. And you pick a good table to look out and enjoy the view.   But fifteen minutes into your meal, someone suddenly plops down across from you.   You’re startled to death again.   “I can’t believe you ditched me.”   “S-Sorry…” You look away. “I was too hungry to wait.”   “Could’ve told me at least. I would’ve hurried up.” He spreads cream cheese on his bagel, ruffled mop of hair flopping as he moves. He’s dressed like a true tourist again, this time with a hawaiian shirt that’s bright orange with blue florals all over it.   Jungkook’s eyes are round and buggy as he bites down and he hums in satisfaction at the taste. “So what are our plans for today? It’s the only full day we have left before we have to work on the cake.”   “I don’t know.” You stand up. “I finished. Should go back to the room. I have a stomach ache.”   “Really?” His left cheek is puffed out with food stored inside. “But I just got here.”   “Nature calls.” You run off, leaving your best friend in the dust.   It’s horrible being stuck on an island with Jeon Jungkook.    No matter where you run or how you hide, he’s always there.   “How was the—”   You scream.   “—bathroom trip.” Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed deep.   “You scared me!” You put your hand over your heart where it’s pounding hard, threatening to jump out of your chest.   “But I didn’t do anything,” he defends, mouth drawing open as he gestures around, perplexed at how you could be frightened in broad daylight, in the middle of the day, with this many people around. “Are you sure you’re okay?”   “I’m fine. H-how’d you even find me?!”   “I don’t know, I was just heading back to the room. The resort isn’t that big.” He shrugs and finally is able to get a good look at you. Jungkook slowly smiles at your one-piece swimsuit. “Are you going in for a dip? I can join.”   The thought of Jungkook ripping off his shirt, jumping into the pool and getting all wet with you has your knees weak. It’s not a healthy idea.    “No. Changed my mind. It’s kind of….cold out for a swim. I’m probably going to go back inside to change.”   “Y/N. It’s hot. It’s like a hundred degrees out here.”   You muster stiff laughter. “Well I’m feeling a bit chilly. Gonna go back and change. See ya!”   You sprint off again, in a completely disoriented manner. Jungkook shouts your name when you nearly slip on a puddle of water by the poolside and almost crack your head open. But luckily, you catch yourself and throw him a half-hearted smile and an exaggerated wave goodbye.    Part of you wishes you would’ve just fallen into the pool or hit your head. Maybe it would finally knock some sense into your brain.   There’s no reason for you to be so nervous around him. This is Jeon Jungkook you’re talking about — IU fanboy, the biggest nerd of the universe, officially the worst flirt on this planet.   There’s absolutely no reason for your stomach to flip. For you to be unable to retain eye contact with your friend. For you to suddenly be so self-aware and conscious of him that you feel nervous when he’s around and nervous when he’s not. There’s no reason whatsoever…   “You need to get your head straight.”   You’re muttering to yourself as you walk. You probably look crazy, but need to hear it out loud. If no one’s going to help you by saying it, then you’ll say it yourself. “Focus, Y/N. Focus—”   A blood-curdling shriek tears from your stomach when there’s suddenly knocking. You turn to see Jeon Jungkook beside you, separated by a window, but laughing hysterically at your reaction. His nose is scrunched, mouth drawn up into that boyish smile of his.   He’s inside the fitness center in a white tank top, sweating enough to make his hair damp, and the dark stands are pushed back against his head. That little shit is scaring you on purpose now.   “Are you shitting me, Jeon Jungkook?!” Your fist pounds against the glass and you fail to notice how everyone else in the gym is whirling their heads around at the noise.   The resort attendant runs up on you.   “Ma’am, please don’t bang on the glass.”   “S-sorry.”   Jungkook is in bigger hysterics now, bent over and grabbing his stomach, laughing loud enough for you to hear through the window. His smile is excited, eyes lit up.   Everywhere. Every corner you turn to. Every path you take. Some way or another — whether you’re talking to Namjoon or Chungha, hanging at the bar, around the pool, on the beach to watch the waves — no matter how hard you try to evade him, Jungkook is always there.   You didn’t know it would be so hard to avoid him. He’s truly like the plague.   Or maybe a curse.    Better yet, it would be more fitting to call Jeon Jungkook the year-round Christmas grinch. He’s here to ruin your life, ruin your holiday, and make your head filled with him and only him.   “You’re not avoiding me, are you?”   He finally asks after crawling into bed beside you that night. His hands are folded on top of his midsection and he’s staring up at the ceiling even if he can’t see when the entire room is drowned in a comfortable darkness.   You muster some laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous.”   The sheets shift and from the little light coming through the terrace glass doors, you can see him looking at you. And you can feel his body warmth with the small distance. “I would hate it if you were a hypocrite since you don’t like when others ghost you.”   “I said I’m not,” you whine. The lie gives a tickle of guilt in your gut. “You shouldn’t accuse people after they’ve already defended themselves.”   “Okay.” The corners of his lips quirk. “Just making sure. I don’t want to scare you off.”   You scoff, eyes adjusting enough to be able to look at him. It’s quiet, with him beside you underneath the covers, too close but too far. Yet somehow, in spite of the silence of your room, it’s still very noisy inside your head. “You really think you’re going to get rid of me that easily?”   “No. And I’m glad for that. I wouldn’t want to lose you.” Jungkook grins and he teases, “You’re not a coward, Y/N. Right?”   “Psh. Go to bed, Jeon.”   “Hmm, I’m not tired, but I do know an activity we can do together that’ll tire me right out.”   “Yeah, my fist meeting your face.”   He laughs and you roll over, tugging the covers up to your chin.   You don’t say out loud, don’t admit it, but you are a coward.    One big coward who pretends to face the truth with courage, but actually learnt to run and hide in the face of trouble. A coward who can’t face the music, who’s actually wide awake like he is, but won’t say it. Whose heart is stuttering too loud to try to slip underneath the seduction of slumber.    You won’t admit the funny feeling you get when your gaze sets upon Jungkook. You won’t acknowledge it even when it’s screaming into your ear drums and drumming against your rib cage. You won’t confess that the nervousness you feel is far from platonic.   It’s hard not to feel stuck on Jungkook. These days, the last person you see before you sleep is him and he’s the first person you see when you wake up. He’s both the beginning and the end.   “Hey, Y/N.” You’re stirred away by a soft voice calling to you. “Wake up.”   When your lids peel back, you see him. The strands of his black hair nearly tickle the skin of your cheeks and he smiles tenderly at you. “We have a long day. Come on.”   You’re a coward and you have been for some time now.   //   Friday is the busiest day of the week. It’s the eve of the wedding and where you’re in the kitchen for hours on end.   Between the four of you, the lilac-coloured fondant is rolled out to cover the chocolate cake and ganache frosting. The dowel rods are inserted and the cake is stacked. Once it’s to Sejeong’s satisfaction, the decorating process begins. The sugar lavender that you made yesterday is used, placed delicately in the correct positions and you work on tracing a lace pattern on the bottom most layer.   Hours later, with muscles sore and eyes stinging, she’s finally satisfied.   It ends up looking magnificent. All the effort is presented in front of you — the cake is a soft purple colour, lavender flowers made from gum paste and real lilacs edible.   “It’s too pretty to eat.”   “It always is.” Sejeong smiles. “But when we do, it’ll be delicious.”   Namjoon stretches his arms over his head, making noises as his bones crack. “I’m starving. What time is it?” He checks his watch. “I think the snack bar is still open. We should go eat now since we have to wake up bright and early tomorrow.”   “I forgot how much work it was to be a bridesmaid.” Sejeong sighs lightly. “Let’s just get the cake in the fridge for now.”   Jungkook and Namjoon carefully move the cake into the refrigerator area, a whole cold storage, and you take your aprons off, washing your hands. Sejeong turns to you and Jungkook. “Are you guys hungry too? You probably are since we’ve been working so late.”   You exchange a look with him. “N-No. We’re fine.”   “Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, brows raised.   “Yeah, I’m sure. I’m more tired than hungry. I’ll probably call it a night.”   “Same here.” Jungkook offers a smile, following your lead.   “Well alright, I’ll see you both bright and early then! Good job, you two.” Namjoon smiles and both he and his wife leave the kitchen, talking to one another until their voices fade away.   Jungkook then turns to you with his brow raised. “Are you really not hungry?”   You look down at your stomach and it rumbles. You wonder if he can hear it too. “I thought I’d give them alone time since we’ve been busy all day….”   An extended sigh pulls from the man’s lungs.   Jungkook smiles and as he passes by you, he ruffles your hair. “You’re so unnecessarily thoughtful sometimes….”   You turn around, trailing after him. Jungkook opens the fridge and hums, eyes searching.    “What are you doing?” you ask curiously.   “Looking for ingredients since a little someone said they weren’t hungry and now we can’t go to the only place still open.” He grins easily. “So unless you want to go back to the hotel room and wait half an hour for room service, I’ll cook.”   Jungkook sounds so self-assured that you comply, finding your place on a stool as he begins to pull out mushrooms, shallots, parmesan cheese, butter, and starts digging around the cupboards. “You can cook?”   “’Course I can. I’m a master of the kitchen.” His eyes flicker up and the little shit mocks you. “Why? Can’t you?”   “The pan always burns,” you mutter.   “Is that why you can’t melt chocolate over the stove?” he questions with a glint of mischief.   “For the record, I’m getting better. It’s not like I do it intentionally anyway. But are we even allowed to use these ingredients, Jungkook? Won’t we get into trouble?” It’s not your kitchen after all — just a small space the resort was willing to let you use.   He merely shrugs. “We have to live a little.”   You sit on the other side of the island, watching him closely.    Jungkook finds a can of chicken stock and heats it over the stove in a small saucepan. Then he moves to chop shallots and mushrooms, sleeves pulled up to his elbows, forearms revealed as he works the knife in a constant motion that’s therapeutic to listen to. Jungkook fries the shallots and mushrooms over the hot oil and butter in a skillet, tossing and flipping them as they sizzle.   He works fluidly, in a rhythm without needing to stop and think twice. It’s fun to watch.   “What are you making?”   “Mushroom risotto.”   “Sounds fancy.”   “It is,” he lies.    In your ignorance, you’re unaware that it’s actually an easy recipe. You’re also oblivious to the fact that Jungkook is secretly beaming with gratitude that his dad taught him this recipe years ago. His dad was right that he needed to learn how to cook basic dishes to one day impress.   Jungkook adds the rice, coating it in the butter before adding a cup of white wine he found in the cupboards. Once it’s fully absorbed, he puts in the chicken stock and adds salt to taste. All the while, he’s watching you from the corner of his eye. He can read you like a book and your amazed expression feeds directly into his ego.   When Jungkook turns around to throw something in the sink, he lets his enormous smile slip.   “If we ever have the time, I’ll make you shrimp or chicken risotto.”   “You can make that?”   “Of course, cooking isn’t hard.”   “Pft. You really know how to do everything, don’t you, Jeon?”   “You said it, not me.”   He serves it on a big plate, even taking the extra step to clean the edges up with a napkin. You’re amazed and when he arrogantly urges you to take a bite, you can’t even tell him off. It’s delicious.   And once you say so, he can't deny how happy he is.   Jungkook is over the fucking moon. He would cook for you for the rest of his life if you’d let him.

[rainbowrider1290]

My take on a Genshin Impact Circus AU Part 4 with Noelle as a strongwoman and Amber as a death-defying archery stuntwoman. Their backstories are under the cut!

Noelle:

First off I have a very self-indulgent headcanon that she is ridiculously strong. Like. Can benchpress people. Canonverse or AU.

She used to help out around the circus and she was kind of indifferent to the fact that she was likely going to be a maid. It's a respectable profession. And helping out at her childhood friends' (Kaeya and Diluc) manor as she'd been born into doing seemed like a good job.

How she got into the circus life requires a bit of backstory. Back when they were kids, Kaeya, Diluc, and Noelle would mess around (as kids do) and have little challenges for themselves. Who can run the fastest, who can do the best cartwheel, who can jump the highest, and the like.

Noelle got a little hesitant as she got into her early teens bc she was always told to be ladylike, so she spent one or two of their hangout sessions watching Kaeya and Diluc and talking. One day, however, Kaeya and Diluc are being Teenage Boys and lifting heavy things trying to outlift each other. Noelle has lifted furniture when cleaning up after these two so she figures this one unladylike thing would be okay.

She comes up behind them and just. Picks them both up. On top of the things they were lifting already. Kaeya and Diluc have to take a second and just look at her like "yeah no you are never sitting out of our competitions again"

And so they try other things like cartwheels and tests of courage like who can climb the highest on a tree and things are back to normal.

Skip forward a few years and Crepus dies. There's a huge mystery around it that not even his son's attendants are privy to. The only thing people know is that the sons have been sent away to boarding school. The whole manor is abandoned, all the workers fired.

Noelle for the next few years spends her time working at laundromats, and other odd jobs, but eventually she runs out of luck and suddenly there's too many people and not enough opportunities.

One of her friends from one of her old jobs invites her to go out and see this new circus that happens to be in town. She goes because why not. And wouldn't you know it one of the acts is her childhood friends doing these death-defying stunts that hit her with a wave of nostalgia bc their entire act consists of essentially the song "anything you can do" but with more and more dangerous stunts.

Noelle of course has to say hi, so they catch up and Noelle's lack of work comes up and would you look at that Aether and Lumine happen to have an opening for a maid.

So Noelle settles in, continuing to lift heavy shit to clean under it (Bennett swears up and down he saw her lift a fridge once but he might've been sleep-deprived). She also got into helping Chongyun with the techy stuff so sometimes she'll be at tech rehearsals moving things around and one time a rope holding up a person breaks near Noelle and she. catches it.

Now, one night. One of the acts drops out at the last moment bc injury or last-minute commitment or the like. And it leaves a gap in the show. Everyone else is busy. And panicking bc the circus is still relatively new and they really need to build their rep rn.

They start wondering what kind of last-minute acts they can put together like "what about the gymnasts??" "They all have group routines" "do they have old routines??" "Not polished enough for what we need" and someone somewhere pipes up "man I wish we had a strongman or something" and Diluc and Kaeya immediately whip their heads around to look at each other for like half a second before Kaeya bolts. He finds Noelle doing her usual rounds she's been doing for like a month now and Bennett was right, she is currently under a mini-fridge that she is lifting over her head whilst leaning it against a wall.

Kaeya takes Noelle by the shoulders and just zooms her over to where the commotion is happening and pitches the idea to Aether and Lumine. They're hesitant as hECK bc this is a huge risk they're taking since Noelle isn't even a performer but Diluc pitches that they could literally just scatter really heavy items and have Noelle clean under them and as long as she looks at the audience every once in a while it can be played off as a bit.

Noelle with qUITE the stammer says that she'll try her best but at this time is in need of a moment. She has never performed before. Kaeya and Diluc have to go perform so they leave her with a shoulder squeeze and a thumbs up.

She gets on-stage. She flinches under the lights for a second. She takes a deep breath and focuses on the first thing before her with her best "oh heavens, it's filthy in here", and she gets through the entire act by doing that for every object. So the audience is seeing this seemingly petite young girl lift the equivalent of a hecking car in order to clean under it.

Needless to say, there's roaring applause the second Noelle leaves (which she hears from far away because holy shit I just cleaned for people and they liked it)

This was a bit of a one-time thing and she goes back to her regular maid duties until the circus gets a new strongman by the name "Zhongli".

His style is more about lifting exTREMELY LARGE ROCKS, and breaking them in half whilst giving a history/geology lesson on them.

He quietly observes the maid who he hears fantastical stories of That One Time She Charmed An Audience By Cleaning. He was bewildered at first but saw the merit of it while watching her clean. He immediately decides that this girl has sO MUCH. POTENTIAL that is being wasted by having her work as a maid. He has nothing against maids or their profession, but he invites her to train with him.

Noelle gets hELLA stronger and they come to a conclusion. Noelle performs part-time and is a maid part-time. She doesn't have a particular performance style. She'll sometimes play catch with Zhongli and his big rocks, other times she'll be in the background of performers like Amber in the art lifting some hEAVY SHIT.

She gets along with Chongyun super well bc Chongyun has to make less trips to move his equipment since he's worked with her. She's a blessing for when they have to pack up and move.

Amber:

Amber's story is a little more straightforward. She started out engaged to a suitor. Amber was the kid in kindergarten who was learning about dragons and "idk what everyone else was doing". She's known what she wants for a long time, and what she wants at the moment, is not a relationship.

Throughout her childhood she was a very lonely child. Her family exposed her to lots of academic or ladylike things (do not ask me when this au is set, it's the 1800s and the 1990s at the same time or a suspendes steampunk time) to get her away from the thing she liked most: archery. She'd been exposed to it as a kid and latched on.

This drove a bunch of suitors away, so her family got more desperate and exposed her to more classes and activities to get her away from it. She went "that's easy, I'll just practice at night"

So she does that. She practices at night and underperforms in the coming weeks. It is during this time that her parents (high class ppl) find her a man to marry for some business deal idk.

The man's nice enough. It's just obvious he can only take Amber in small doses, and Amber takes full advantage of this to practice and stay in shape.

How Amber gets into the circus life was essentially running away. She bonds with Eula over this.

So because of all the attempts to make her fit into the ideal lady description, her rebellious streak said "yeah we're going to go as far away from that as possible" and she goes "I'm going to run away with the circus" bc that's what the books she's read say is the most rebellious thing you can do.

She finds THE FIRST circus she sees and begs to be let in. This is the shadiest most sketchy place but Amber sees it as the key to her freedom. She signs a contract.

They treat her like the US treats their students. She barely gets time to practice for performances and she's mostly doing dirty work. When they ask her what she can do she's like "I'm really good at archery" and they go "cool, you're going to be doing that while everything is on fire now. Can you do a handstand"

Essentially they push her and push her and push her to do more and more hazardous things she has to pick up on under the threat of being kicked to the curb.

After a while of this Amber is extremely burned out (pun intended) and as she's packing up after one of her shows, covered in burns but proud bc she hit all her targets without killing anyone, she's approached by a blond foreigner.

Tbh for all she's read, Amber really doesn't consider leaving and this time she can't run away since she's now bound by a contract (not Zhongli's btw in case anyone was wondering).

This foreigner tells her that there's so many ways to improve her situation and that he runs a circus looking for members.

Amber refuses since she's not getting tangled up in another legal mess, but she takes his advice on how to take care of her burns, and improve safety while she's performing.

Skip a few months. She hears word of this mysterious new circus around. Her encounter with who she'll later know as Aether stuck with her, and so she goes. To see whether she could really shoot her arrows without being burned alive.

After a show one night, she tries to get past security and fails repeatedly. She turns to leave and wouldn't you know it there's Aether. And Lumine. Waiting for her once she turns the corner. Amber's biggest concern is her existing contract and when Aether and Lumine say they have a nICE lawyer, Amber sees her next step to freedom.

Aether and Lumine essentially gain custody of Amber (but like for adults) and Amber is. Shocked. She's walked through her new contract of employment clearly and essentially treated like a human being.

And now that she knows things and has more freedom (though still under the watchful eyes of Aether and Lumine to see how she does) her creativity and competitive streak flourish. She decides she actually doesn't hate fire, she just doesn't like when she doesn't know when or where it's coming. And she makes fast friends with the gymnasts, so she ends up incorporating that into her routines. Now she uses her canon goggles to protect her from the burning eyes of prolonged smoke exposure when she uses fire.

When she meets a little pyromanic girl named Klee, she's thrilled that someone this chaotic and sure of herself exists.

[marveloussupernerd]

I’m Pregnant - Jumin Han

Welcome to part “two” of the pregnancy series of one shots! Again, this is not gender neutral, lmk if you want me to write something gender neutral for y’all :)

Summary: Jumin hated getting birthday presents. So how will he react to a positive pregnancy test as his present this year?

You woke with a start, wiggling out of Jumin’s grip. Again. Every early morning you had the same turn of events: wake up around 4 am, get sick, drink something to calm your stomach, take a bath, go back to bed. It was getting exhausting.

Jumin was already behind you, holding your hair back in one hand and rubbing your back with the other, as you opened the lid to the toilet. He had been so good to you; you tried not to wake him, but he always seemed to catch you and comfort you when you were feeling your worst.

Once you had finally rid your stomach of everything bothering it, you leaned into Jumin, burying your face into his neck and groaning. “I’m sick of this. Literally I guess.”

He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to grab some ginger ale. This was how it went every night. He sat on the couch, keeping you curled up on his lap, and opened the drink for you.

“I know...” he whispered, running a hand through your hair. “I’m worried about you. Can I finally call for a doctor now?”

You sighed, sipping your drink. You had reassured Jumin the past few days that I was some stomach bug, but it was getting challenging for either of you to believe. Regardless, the getting sick had to stop. You were starting to lose weight at an unhealthy weight. You groaned again, taking comfort in his arms. “Oh,” you mumbled, “it’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

He stole a glance at the clock hanging in the room. 4:13 am. “I suppose it is.”

“Well happy birthday love,” you smiled, forcing yourself to ignore your pain and discomfort to make sure today was a good day for him. “Do you have to go into work this morning?”

“Unfortunately I do. I’ll try to get home before 4 though, and then maybe we can call a doctor? I know you don’t want to go to one alone.” He was so considerate. It made you uncomfortable enough when he called doctors or hairstylists or anyone to the penthouse, but it was unbearable when he wasn’t there. It just made you feel uncomfortable; you weren’t used to it.

“Okay,” you sighed. You had really hoped to get over your sickness on your own, but oh well. “You wanna take a bath or get some more sleep?”

“Whatever you want,” he responded, a reassuring smile on his face. You huffed at him. It was his birthday: he had to decide. He stifled a yawn. Looks like his body decided for him.

“Back to bed it is,” you slid off his lap, carrying the half-drank can of ginger ale with you to bed, Jumin right behind you, an arm resting on your hip as the two of you walked.

You melted into his embrace in bed. When the two of you first started sleeping together he was distant. Sometimes he would put his hand on yours, and that was exciting to you. Now, though, he liked to cuddle close to you, arms wrapped around you waist to pull you close and head nestled between your neck and your shoulder. You fell asleep almost immediately.

When you had woken he was gone. It was sweet of him to let you sleep in, but you wished he had woken you up to say goodbye. You sighed, sending him a text: I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you out. I love you. Can’t wait until you get home.

He didn’t reply. You hadn’t expected one; he was in meetings back-to-back so that he could get home early for you. He had arranged his schedule like this the past few days so he could get home early and take care of you.

You were going to be sick again. Repeating your daily ritual with the toilet (who had become your best friend as of late), you sat there for a while, unmoving. You groaned, reaching onto the sink to get your toothbrush and toothpaste to get the taste out of your mouth, and of course, you were out of toothpaste. You backed yourself up and opened the cabinet to grab toothpaste and oh shit. A box of pads. You hadn’t started yet, had you? How long had it been? That would explain things.

Disregarding the toothpaste, you pulled out your phone and dialed Jaehee immediately. She picked up on the second ring. “Good morning, is everything alright? Would you like me to call a doctor? Mr. Han has told me you haven’t been well...”

“About that...” you trailed off. You ran a hand through your hair. “Do you think maybe during your lunch break you can swing by the convenience store and grab some ginger ale and, uh... maybe a few pregnancy tests?”

“Did I hear you right?” She sounded excited. “Do you think you may be-“

“I’m not sure. But it could explain why I’ve been sick. I’d get them myself but someone might see and then... oh, please don’t tell Jumin about this. I’d hate to disappoint him if I’m not, especially on his birthday. I’ll, uh, I’ll call him and make sure he gives you a break.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

And that’s how, an hour and a half later, you were sitting in the bathroom staring at three positive tests. You had to do three to make positive you were pregnant. And you were. It made so much sense. You felt relieved and happy and... scared? You wanted to tell Jumin.

A half hour before he was due home, you put the test in an old gift box he had gotten you a necklace in. It fit perfectly. You wrapped it in white polka dot wrapping paper, tying a red bow on top. Now all you had to do was wait.

And wait.

And wait.

He was two hours late. You hoped he wouldn’t be like this when you had a kid, them waiting at the door for their father for hours on end. You wanted him to be someone they relied on. You sighed, closing your eyes to compose your thoughts.

“Honey,” you were shaken awake. “I’m sorry for making you wait.” He whispered. Jumin was still in his work attire, undoing his tie as you spoke. “It was a ridiculously long day, but I’m happy to see you.” His face softened as he took you in. “My Love, have you been crying?” He asked, a gently hand reaching out to wipe tears you hadn’t even realized were on your face.

“I’m okay,” you sniffed, “I just missed you a lot. What time is it?”

He glanced down at his watch. “7 pm. I’m sorry again for making you wait. Oh! And the doctor. We can still have him come if you-“

“I got you a present.” You cut him off, picking up the box that you had accidentally left discarded on the floor when you fell asleep.

He looked sheepish, the smallest flush rising to his cheeks. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything. Your company is more than enough.”

“I think you’ll like it,” you sang, a small smile forming on your face. You really hoped he’d be happy.

He sat on the couch, pulling you out of your uncomfortable sleeping condition back onto his lap for the second time that day. You placed the present in his hands.

“What’s this? More matching necklaces?” He shook it lightly, listening to it clatter. “A watch?”

“Just open it! I’m getting nervous watching you shake it around,” you urged, feeling your stomach turn again. Not right now, baby.

He finally gave in, giving you a smirk as he untied the ribbon. As soon as he opened the box though, he practically dropped it. “This is...” his voice was quiet. You almost couldn’t hear it. “Is it real?” His eyes, glistening, looking up at you in disbelief.

“I took three just to be positive. Jumin, we’re going to have a baby,” you whispered, your voice soft in the moment. Seeing him cry, you couldn’t stop the tears forming in your eyes. He pulled you close, so close, peppering kisses across your face.

“I can’t believe it.” He had smiled like you had never seen before. “I’m going to do better. Make sure I get back from work earlier. Start working from home more. We need to get a house. How far along are you?”

“Jumin,” you giggled. “I just found out today along with you.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, resting a hand lightly on your stomach, the other cupping your cheek. “Thank you for being with me, for wanting to raise a child with me. I could not ask for a better present for my birthday, or for the rest of eternity.” He pressed a quick passionate kiss to your lips, wrapping you into a hug and carrying you off to your bedroom.

“Jumin!” You squealed as he carried you.

He chuckled. “Nothing like that.” He plopped you into bed. “You need to get more rest. And eat more. We’ll visit the doctor tomorrow to see if we can help with your morning sickness. I’ll make some strawberry pancakes,” he winked, making his way to the doorway.

“Hey! But it’s your birthday!”

“And whatever the birthday boy wants, is what he gets. I want to have breakfast for dinner in bed with my wife and our child she’s carrying. Are you planning on stopping me?” He asked, leaning against the doorframe, a glimmer in his eye.

“No way.”

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI Rogers and Barnes: The Serious Cereal Serial Killer Episode 16: Is This Thing Rolling...

Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Part 1

Summary: Having figured out previously where Rumlow has taken Katie, it’s now a race against time for The 4 Avengers to reach her before it’s too late. Armed with…yeah…ok, actually, we’ll let you read that bit because frankly this entire chapter is ridiculously fun!!!

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N:  LONG update here guys so we split it into 2 for you to read as you wish. I know we said Episode 15 was the penultimate chapter but we had too much to cram in so…THIS is the Penultimate chapter! Episode 17 will be the last, followed by an Epilogue.

Anyway, enjoy!!!

Chapter Song: Everything by Michael Buble  

CSI R&B Masterlist  // Main Masterlist 

You’re a falling star, you’re the getaway car, you’re the line in the sand when I go too far. You’re the swimming pool on an August day and you’re the perfect thing to see.

Almost two and a half months after the unit cracked the case of the Serious Cereal Serial killer, as Thor had coined it one morning while watching Bucky scarf down a bowl of oatmeal at such a rate that he almost choked on it, everything seemed to be fitting into place. 

Rumlow and Wanda were rotting in jail. The former had been taken to a prison of maximum security in another county where he had been isolated while he waited for his trial to take place, whereas Wanda had been taken to the female wing, called Nidavellir, at the Nine Realms prison.

Katie had been back at the 99 for almost two months now and was working hand in hand with Peralta, which had given Santiago some relief as Katie was able to appease her husband’s excited and unorthodox methods. Gina had also been back at the 99 full time since another police technician, Scott Lang, previously in charge of the switchboard, had been appointed by Fury as the new Captain’s assistant at the 101st. To say he had been star-struck by the most famous police Captain in the NYPD would be an understatement, wringing Steve’s hand up and down for what felt like 5 minutes.

All in all Steve and Katie were doing well. They were in a happy domestic arrangement. She had moved in with Steve the moment Tony and Pepper had set a date for the wedding, even before she was taken by Rumlow after they had cracked the case and well before she decided to finish her secondment in DC and come back to Brooklyn permanently. And two months later she had given up pretending it was a temporary arrangement.

In fact, one Sunday morning while they were cuddling on the sofa, after an exhausting night and an invigorating breakfast, Katie had shyly asked Steve what he would think if she said she didn't want to find her own place but stay with him till they both found a place of their own. Steve had then flashed her a smile that would have lit up all of Brooklyn on a blackout night and had kissed the life out of her before commenting on how that would be everything a man could ask for. Earning another blinding smile from Katie and a groan from Bucky who, as usual, had shown up from nowhere when he was least expected and headed for the kitchen mumbling something about being fed up of mushy remarks and having to get better ear plugs to avoid having to go to therapy.

This particular Saturday morning, Katie was slumped over the breakfast bar in the kitchen, suffering from the mother of all hangovers after returning from Pepper’s bachelorette party in the small hours. And she was whimpering like a dog when Steve slid a plate of toast and an orange juice over to her.

"You need to eat something, doll."

"Trust me, I really don’t." she said, her voice muffled by the arm that was supporting her head.

Steve was trying to be sympathetic, he really was, but he was also having a hard time simply keeping himself from laughing. Frankly, the whole scene was hilarious. She had been in a right state when she had got home and he’d had to put her to bed once she had finished puking and he had arrested and cuffed her pumps for murdering her feet as per Katie’s request. So he let out a soft chuckle and she groaned as she squinted up at him.

"You know, it’s so not fair." she said blinking at the kitchen lights which felt like piercing her eyes.

"What isn’t?" Steve asked as he poured himself some coffee.

"I came home looking like a raccoon with my make-up smeared all over…and you…" she said as she waved her hand up and down his body "you still looked gorgeous even with that black eye."

"I’m surprised you can remember anything about what you or I looked like last night."

"When I go get my eyelashes done, remind me to take a photo of yours to show the beauty therapist what I want." she continued her ramblings ignoring his comment just before her head fell back on her arms.

Steve watched her and snorted.

"Don’t laugh at me." she whined, her voice once again muffled by her arms.

"I’m not. I’m trying to decide whether you’re still drunk or hungover." he said while he took a seat on the stool next to her.

"Trust me, this is 100% hangover…" she said peeking up at him. “How are you not even remotely ill?"

Steve rolled his eyes as if the answer couldn't have been any simpler. “I didn’t drink enough to be hungover. I know my limits."

"Hmmm yeah, not enough to avoid getting into a bar brawl." And just as she said it her eyes flicked to the bruise along his left cheekbone and eye socket. She sat up to trail her fingers gently over it. "You gonna tell me the full story about what happened?"

"I already told you before Doll, it was some drunken punk in a bar picking a fight. I had to put him in his place, that’s all." 

"Yeah, and he put your eye in a dark place from the looks of it." she jabbed at him.

"Trust me, he ended up far worse."

Steve saw her watching him and he tried to hold her gaze as best he could, working on keeping his face straight. But it was proving hard work seeing as he was the worst of liars, he always had been. For a moment he thought she was gonna argue but she didn’t, whether she believed him or was simply too hungover to bother pulling him up on it he had no idea. He was just grateful she didn't.

"Sure he did. Anyway, what are you and your black eye doing today?" she asked.

"I’m on groomsman duty, my suit was a little short last time I tried it on so Tony wants to make sure it fits.” He replied, thankful of the change of subject, trying to sound as casual as possible, when a sudden idea came to him. “Hey, how about we head to Ma’s for lunch? I can meet you there? That is if you feel better later. You got anything else planned, baby?"

Katie reached for the orange juice before answering "Yeah, lying on the couch waiting for death to come and take me."

Steve chuckled and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her temple but he saw her flinch as Bucky made his accustomed loud entrance in the kitchen.

"Hey doll face..." he trailed off as he looked at her, taking in her appearance and then snorted."Yikes, not looking very doll face today."

"Die Barnes" she bit back at him.

"Gladly Stark, but before I leave this world remember you promised to help me find my suit for your brother’s wedding today." Bucky informed her, a side smile on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.

Katie then stilled "That was today?" she asked with a croaky voice.

"Yup." Bucky said and headed to the fridge to fetch some milk. "And seeing as his wedding is next week we are running out of time."

"Fuck my life." Katie groaned as Bucky poured some cereal into a bowl. "Can’t you ask anyone else? My head is killing me and I can’t feel my feet thanks to being in those ridiculous heels all night…"

"Not happening." Bucky shook his head. "Sam has some reports to finish today, but says he will join us later, and I need a woman’s advice."

"Well I don’t feel like being a woman today, Buck. Have some mercy." she said in a pleading tone, earning a chuckle from Steve who was amusingly watching the interaction while he munched his breakfast.

"Maybe I would if you hadn’t sent me the video of the stripper." Bucky took the big guns out.

Suddenly Steve spluttered on his coffee "What?"

"I thought you might enjoy it." she shrugged. "Anyway, I only did that because it was that Gemini Flannagan dude you told me about."

"Gemini Flannagan…huh, no shit?" Steve said as he dried a few coffee drops that had landed on the breakfast bar with a paper towel.

"Wanna see?" Bucky asked him with a grin. 

"No, why the fuck would I want to see that?" Steve frowned, visibly disgusted.

"Because in the background to all the thrusting and gyrating dearest Gemini is doing, there’s a very interesting conversation going on between your lovely girl here and Natasha where Stark is clearly saying, and I’m paraphrasing here, that his cock is nothing to write home about because yours is bigger."

At that point Katie could only groan and hide her head in her hands. 

But Bucky continued as he was having a ball "... and for the record, punk, if that’s true, I don’t know how you stand up straight." And just like that he took a spoonful of cereal and watched the pair of them. 

Steve was sure he was flushing, he could feel his ears and neck burning but he was also a bit smug, well ok, not a bit, he was full on smug. That most certainly was not a bad thing for his girl to be crowing about…

And then it suddenly hit him what Bucky had said.

"Hang on…he was naked? Like…did he strip?” Katie rolled her eyes and Bucky smiled at Steve's naivety "Clue's in the name…STRIPPER. Duh." she said.

“Like he was completely naked?”

“Well not completely, no.” Katie said, “He had this little leather thong pouch type thing covering his, crotch, but it was tight enough not to leave anything to the imagination.”

"You know, if you ever get tired of chasing bad guys there’s a gig there. You already have the uniform." Bucky told his friend as he munched his cereal.

Steve, who was now bright red, tilted his head at him. "Buck, just don’t."

Bucky smiled and decided to let it go but then he saw Katie looking at Steve and a wicked smile flicked across her face.

"Can you strip for me, Captain?" she asked suggestively.

Steve groaned and stood up, still flushing. "Just eat your toast and take a painkiller. I’m going for a shower."

"I love it when you put on your Captain's voice…" she purred, which did nothing to stop Steve’s blush, quite the contrary. And he rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a straight face as she continued "Are you stripping to get in the shower, Captain?"

Bucky laughed loudly as Steve sighed and looked him. "Keep her out of trouble, punk." He ordered.

"I’m not some mischief making teenager, Steve." she protested.

"Then stop acting like one." Steve said sternly, hands on his hips and it didn’t pass him by that he was really adopting his Captain stance.

"Says the man with the black eye." she glared at him and Bucky sniggered.

"I’m going for a shower now. Behave with uncle Bucky sweetheart." he said, winking an eye at her. And as he turned to leave Katie threw the toast from her plate at him but missed completely and it ended up on the kitchen's floor by the door.

"Fuck you, Rogers." she shouted in frustration.

They heard Steve's laughter die down as the bathroom door shut.

"We don’t play with food, little miss." Bucky mock scolded Katie as he picked the toast up off the floor.

"You can piss off too."

Bucky laughed, now she was being a brat. "Sorry, but you’re cute when you’re angry and hungover."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she frowned at him.

"A James Buchanan Barnes original, yes."

"Well, given how I look and feel this morning, I’ll take it."  She breathed in and nodded behind him. "Pass me the Advil, will ya Buck?"

"Sure, doll face." he said as he reached into the cupboard over the sink and tossed the packet down on the breakfast bar. "Take a few, I need you at your best this morning."

"Just my luck." she said, taking the painkillers from the packet.

Bucky chuckled and poured himself a coffee. "Blame your brother, if he had chosen me as a groomsman, I’d have my suit sorted now."

Katie snorted and tossed the pills into her mouth, taking a gulp of orange juice and swallowing. 

"I mean, I get why Rhodes is his best man, like they’ve been friends forever but Rogers, Wilson and Banner as ushers, really? What about me?"

Katie looked at him "You really don’t want me to answer that, do you?"

"What you trying to say?" Bucky asked, not understanding why his question was so odd.

"Brucie and Sam are his closest friends at work and Steve’s…"

"The guy fucking his sister." he cut her off.

Katie narrowed her eyes "I was gonna say his Captain, ass hole."

Bucky simply grinned at her over his coffee mug. He loved their little bickering moments.

***** Steve pulled up outside Tony’s and headed up to the door of the large brownstone terraced house. He sighed as he rang the bell. He had been sure about this but now he didn't know if he was anymore. Anyways, he was already there and he'd better roll with it. 

"Oh hey Rogers, wasn’t expecting you." Tony greeted him as he opened the door.

"Hi Tony."

"Eurgh, that black eye looks worse now than it did last night. What did Katie say?" he said pointing at Steve's face

"Nothing much. I told her it was just some drunken ass hole causing a scene. She doesn’t need to know anything else." he shrugged.

Tony arched an eyebrow at him "Ooh, Captain straight lace telling lies."

"It’s not a lie, just not the whole truth." Steve explained with a smile. 

He had begun to take a liking at Tony's teasing, as long as it wasn't too personal that is. But he had to concede since they had rescued Katie from Rumlow the scientist had toned down his little jabs at the Captain. 

"Whatever, your funeral when she finds out."  Tony brushed Steve's explanations off with a wave of his hand. "And speaking of my sister, where is she?"

"Shopping with Bucky…complete with one hell of a hangover." 

"Yeah Pepper ain't much better. Made her one of my miracle beverages. Looked worse on the way back up, which is saying something…Come on in." 

Tony stepped back and let Steve into the tiled hallway, shutting the door behind him. He led the way, taking him through to the kitchen and Steve caught a glimpse of the living room when they stopped at the door.

"Pepper's on the sofa... dying. Probably best we leave her to it." Tony explained when he saw Steve was looking in her direction.

Steve smiled and nodded as Tony looked at him. "So Kiddo is shopping with a hangover? Bet she loved that." he scoffed.

"Well, you know her…never one to let someone down when she’s promised something. Bucky needs a suit for the wedding so…" 

"Oh, shit, yeah…er…let me warn you, I was in the middle of a thing with our wedding planner." 

Steve paused and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow "What do you mean?"

Tony had never been one for warnings, he just let people draw conclusions by allowing them to dive in head first. He just sat back and enjoyed the ride.

"You’ll see." Tony said before heading into the kitchen.

Steve frowned, there was not a spark of wickedness in Tony's brown eyes when he uttered those words as he would have expected. Instead Steve could feel the exasperation in his voice.

"Steve this is Grandmaster, our wedding planner. Grandmaster this is Steve Rogers, my sister’s boyfriend." 

Steve looked at Tony, mouthing Grandmaster?  What kind of fucking name was that? he thought. Tony didn't bother answering. Instead, he merely took out his glasses and rolled his eyes, a gesture Steve knew only too well to mean ‘don’t ask’ as it was identical to the one Katie made.

"Nice to meet you, Steve Rogers…you’re a lucky man." the man suddenly spoke.

"Sorry, I’m not…I don’t…what?" Steve was utterly confused and finished a little lamely. His brain was having a hard time registering the wedding planner's flamboyant appearance. He was wearing a sparkly golden jacket even Bucky would have sworn off in the 80s. But his greying spiky hair and blue eyeliner combination was what had Steve floundering for words. Then, what the man had said registered and he frowned. “Lucky man?”

"Your girlfriend, Tony’s sister, I met her at the dress fitting a few weeks ago. She’s an exquisite little thing." Grandmaster explained softly.

"Oh, err, yeah… yes she is. Thank you.”

Steve saw Grandmaster bat his eyelashes at him as if to acknowledge his words. He looked at Tony once more, utterly dumbfounded. Tony simply shook his head in a just roll with it gesture and Steve suddenly realised exactly why Tony had issued a warning.

He then looked at the large table which was adorned with bits of paper, one of which looked like a seating plan, and suddenly he felt like he was intruding. 

"Look, if this is a bad time I can come back…"

"Oh, no, Anthony and I were just discussing the brunch…" Grandmaster explained and grinned at Tony.

"For the last time, it’s a Reception, idiot." Tony hissed.

"No, can you…you know I don’t like that word." Grandmaster shook his head, cringing.

"What? Idiot."

"No, the…why would I not like the word idiot? I mean the R word."

Steve stood there, watching the exchange between the two men, his mouth hanging open in confusion. That Greatmaster was certainly a greater piece of work than Tony, which was saying something. Or was it Grandmaster? Whatever...

Tony let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It’s not a brunch, it's an afternoon... you know what? Fine. The post wedding meal."

"Ok, better." Grandmaster grinned again at him.

Steve now understood why Tony had done nothing but moan about this guy for the last few months. He was clearly a fucking sandwich short of a full picnic.

"As for the seating…just do whatever. I don’t much care." Tony conceded, visibly fed up. There's only so much a man can take after all.

"Alright, seeing as Miss Potter is not available, I’ll work on this later and email it over." the man agreed.

"It’s Miss Potts." Tony practically growled and Steve could see he was about to lose it.

"She’s more open to my ideas than you are Anthony." the wedding planner observed, not in the least fazed by his client's angry tone.

Tony stared at him, blinking. His mouth hanging slightly open in a look Steve had seen only a handful of times before, when something had rendered him speechless, which was no mean feat, before the scientist took a deep sigh. 

"Whatever."

And just like that Grandmaster moved graciously around the table. Steve watched him as he gathered his papers up and popped them into a leather briefcase. He then fastened it with a click and looked at Tony. 

"By the way, it smells in here…burnt toast I think.”

"Yeah, well I like my bread well done." Tony's voice was deadpan and Steve snorted as Grandmaster nodded with a smile. The guy had no idea Tony was literally making fun of him to his face.

"Alright, guess I’ll be leaving now. Bye, Anthony. Nice to meet you Mr Stevenson."

Steve's brain had not quite registered the man's name mixed-up when he heard Tony hiss through gritted teeth "It’s Rogers." He was literally lost for words. So when Grandmaster left the room Tony looked at him. 

"Don’t mind him, took him some time until he stopped calling me Mr Starch. That’s why I don’t rip his tongue out for calling me Anthony."

"Yeah erm…where on Earth did you find him?"

“I’m not actually sure he’s from Earth.” Tony mumbled before he shook his head. “He was some acquaintance of Banner. Thor knew him too. He runs a company called Sakaar. They deal with events planning. And orgies, apparently." Tony explained, rubbing his temples.

Steve thought Tony had aged a decade in the ten minutes he had been dealing with his wedding planner and gave them a sympathetic smile just before his brain registered the last part. "What?"

"Don’t ask." Tony said before clapping his hands together. "Anyway, what can I do for you, Cap? You want a coffee or…?

"No thanks, I’m good."  Steve cleared his throat. With all the Grandmaster dude shenanigans he had forgotten the real purpose of his visit and suddenly he could feel his palms were sweaty with nerves.  "I... err... wanted to talk to you alone. There’s this thing I’ve been meaning to ask you…"

Tony arched his eyebrow. "Me?"

"Yes." Steve replied way too fast. "I mean, I wanted to ask you before I ask her…"

"Her? Are you talking about Katie?"

Steve lowered his head and sighed "Yes."

"Oh, I see what’s going on." Tony said leaning against the counter, folding his arms.

"You do?" Steve asked, lifting his head up and looking at him shyly.

"No thanks to you, you’re a mess Rogers." Tony said, a gentle smile curling on his lips. "Come with me."

Steve frowned before following him "Tony, I…"

"Trust me, I have something to show you." Tony stopped and turned to look at him with a soft smile.

Steve took a breath and followed him. They headed down the hall then up the stairs and into Tony's study. Once there Steve saw Tony sit on his desk chair and begin tapping on the keyboard. Just as the screen sprang to life Tony explained.  "See dad had a thing for recording videos, kind of like pep talks for the future." He pressed a few buttons more and moved the mouse before continuing. "After the one he recorded for that old journalist Mr Lee, well it got me thinking there had to be more. So I started searching through his old archives and among other things, I found something I think you’ll find interesting."

Steve frowned "What do you mean?"

Tony looked at him for an instant before looking back at the screen and smiled as he selected a file. "Lets just say my dear old pop was a visionary…"

Steve looked at him, he had no idea what the fuck was going on. Tony stood up and motioned for Steve to take his place on the desk chair 

"Just watch this, then you can ask me what you wanted to ask me."

He leaned over Steve to click another button and the screen suddenly displayed Howard, perched on his desk, scotch in hand. Steve felt a shiver running down his spine.

"Is this thing rolling?" Howard asked the person behind the camera as he swirled his glass around. 

 "Yeah, it’s on…" a voice from off screen confirmed.

"Alright…" Howard took a swig of scotch and cleared his throat. "Tony…congratulations on being the only person I know who is nosey enough and clever enough to crack into my archives…anyway, if you’re watching this it means something has happened to me before I got the chance to tell you all this in person so…."

Steve watched as Tony pressed a key to fast forward the recording a bit, he was winding to find something, before he stopped and the screen showed Howard giving a chuckle and taking another mouth of scotch.

"So yeah, there’s always a secret door." he said before taking a deep breath. "Now I want you to show this next bit to Rogers."

Steve’s eyes widened and he felt his heart start beating fast.

"Steve, you’re like a second son to me, you know that. I hope you’re doing well. I have no doubt you’ve made Captain by now, possibly even Commissioner, depending on how old this recording is. Not too old I hope. Anyway, I digress. I’m willing to bet you’ve cracked a few big cases too."

Steve gulped as he watched his old mentor continue to talk to him through the screen. He couldn't even tear his eyes from the screen to see Tony's reaction.

"Good job son. Now, onto something far more important to me. I hope you and my princess have realised by now you’re made for each other, because I already know you are."

Steve’s breath caught in his throat, his heart was now pounding.

"So if you’re watching this, and you’ve finally figured that out, then I’m giving you my blessing son. If you haven’t figured it out, then you’re a pair of dumbasses." Howard groaned at the last part and Steve gave a soft snort of laughter, shaking his head. "I’d be over the moon knowing you two have finally realised what has been in front of you for the past god knows how long."

"10 fucking years…" Tony mumbled from where he was leaning against a bookcase behind Steve, arms crossed and his right hand covering his mouth and jaw.

Howard then swallowed a little and wiped at his eye as he looked down at his feet taking a deep breath, clearly emotional, before he looked back up.

"Just look after her, treat her well and make her happy. I’m trusting you with one of my most treasured accomplishments son. And I only wish I could be there to walk her down the aisle to hand her over to the person I’d trust her with over anyone." Howard smiled and then thought about something a moment before he continued. “Just don’t try to understand her.” Howard shrugged “Because the minute you think you know what’s going on inside a woman’s head is the moment you’re goose is cooked.”

At that he sat up straight, slipping back into the Howard Steve knew all too well and looked at the camera.

"Ok, you can stop that thing now…" Steve heard him say before the screen went blank.

The room fell silent and Steve swallowed, trying to digest what he had just seen. The lump in his throat felt like a damned golf ball. Seeing his old mentor, his girl’s dad like that, in such an unguarded way had really made him emotional. When he recovered a bit he turned to look at Tony, who was in turn looking at him, and saw his eyes were misting over slightly. "What was it you wanted to ask?"

Steve chuckled "You still gonna make me say it?"

"Humour me Rogers, I like to see you squirm." Tony teased him, regaining his composure.

Steve took a deep breath before speaking, hoping his voice would come out as steady as possible given the circumstances.

"Tony, I’m gonna ask Katie to marry me. And it would mean the world to me, if I had your blessing."

Tony smiled and looked at his feet before he glanced back up "Then you got it, Steve."

Steve felt a feeling of relief wash over him, the fact he had used his name, for the first time in years, and not some stupid nickname didn’t pass him by. He smiled widely as Tony extended his hand, before he pulled him into a brotherly hug. 

 “Scotch?” Tony asked him as he pulled back.

Steve nodded, smiling widely. "Absolutely."

CONTINUED IN PART 2

[saharamae21]

All of My Wrongs - Chapter Two

Pairing: Topper x OC and Rafe x OC

Summary: As Rory adjust to her new home, she spends her time trying to reinvent herself. She tries to fit herself into a certain image, just like she’s done in every other place she’s ever been. After accidently offending Topper, she wonders if she will ever truly get along with the others around her, but it actually ends up bringing them closer. 

Thanks @anonymous0writer​ for helping me plan and hyping me up! Love you Mags

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Sorry if these first chapters come off as boring. Its going to be a slow moving fic in order for me to really build connections with the characters. I really like it though and I hope you do too… Let me know what you think! I really want some feedback on this…

Also I’m only 6 followers away from 300..... Ahhhhh

Get Added to this Series Tag List

____________________________________________

I walked through the house and tried to get used to all of the marble. It was everywhere. I tried not to wrinkle my nose at the decorations, but I was used to wood and low ceilings. This house was nothing like any place we’ve ever had before. It looked as if we told Skip that he got to pick the next house we lived in. I ascended up the curved staircase and ran my fingers across the white walls. This wasn’t who we were.

I opened the door to my room and was greeted by a queen sized bed. A vanity set stood in the corner and the closet was bigger than some of the rooms I had previously occupied. The room was painted this nice off white and my stuff sat sadly in two boxes. There was no way that I had enough stuff to fill this room. I opened the top box and pulled out some picture frames. They were mostly of my family with a few others mixed in, but I had never really had many friends. After the first few moves I stopped trying to make them, so I wouldn’t miss them when I left. I placed them on the vanity before looking at myself in the mirror.

Staring back at me was a girl who looked scared. It was a reflection of the inner me. On the outside, I was this carefree and fun loving girl who just wanted to have a good time, but when I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t understand how everyone saw that. The girl in front of me was terrified. She shook when people stared at her. She was constantly haunted by a ghost from my past. The ghost stood behind me, looming over my shoulder. I closed my eyes and when I looked back up, they were gone. I just wished that the sad girl staring back at me was gone as well.

“What do you think?” I heard my mom ask. I turned to see her at the threshold. I told her the house was gorgeous. “But does it feel like home?”

“Yeah,” I said, lying to her. I didn’t want to make her feel bad and more importantly, I wanted to stay here. I didn’t want to move again. She smiled at me and asked about my friends. She asked where I stayed last night. “Oh, I met the neighbor boy and his girlfriend. I stayed at her house since Skip locked me out.”

I loved my mom. She was always so bright, like a ray of sunshine. The only weakness she had was her emotions. She had very little control on them and it got even worse after Skip was born. We all got through it though. I sat on my bed and looked at her as she continued to make small talk. I felt bad that I wasn’t as close to her as I used to be. I heard the kitchen timer go off and she told me that she was making cookies for the neighbors. I chuckled thinking about how we always did this. I wondered if Topper’s family would even eat the cookies. She ran downstairs to pull them out of the oven. I laid back in my bed and started up at the ceiling. I wondered how mad my parents would be if I painted it. I promised myself that when we moved into a house for good I would paint the ceiling like the night sky. I always wanted to fall asleep under the stars every night.

“Rory, can you run these to the neighbors while they’re still warm?” I heard my mom shout from downstairs. I sighed and got up, making my way down the steps. I grabbed the plate of cookies and walked out the front door. As soon as I was out, I could hear yells echoing through the air. They were coming from the backyard of Topper’s house. I could hear his mom shouting at him and he was yelling back. I walked into my own backyard and his mom stopped yelling when she saw me.

“Hi,” I said, smiling at her. Somehow, she looked even more uptight than her son. “I’m Aurora Lansing. My family just moved in. My mom asked me to give you these.” I held the plate out for her and she smiled. She took them from me and told me to send gratitude to my mother. Everyone here was way too formal. I glanced over Topper who looked distressed. His mom apologized for the noise and excused herself to bring the cookies into the house.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly. His face was tense, but his eyes were emotionless. I couldn’t tell if he heard me or not, so I took a few steps forward and placed my hand on his arm. He flung my arm off angrily and I stumbled back, missing my footing and falling onto my butt. His eyes expression softened immediately.

“Shit…” he mumbled. “I’m sorry Aurora.”

He helped me up and I brushed myself off. At this point, I really didn’t want to talk to him anymore, but the look in his eyes said he needed something. I asked once again if he was okay. He shook his head. I already knew that though. His emotions read on his face like a book. I hoped that he knew how much trouble that could get him in.

“Wanna get out of here?” I asked. For the first time today, he smiled, even if it was only a little one. He walked to the front of the house with me following a few steps behind. He opened up the door to his huge jeep and I crawled in. He closed it behind me and got behind the wheel. “So are you gonna tell me what’s bothering you?”

“No matter what I do, it's not enough in my mom’s eyes,” he said. I stared at his side profile and he truly looked defeated. I listened to him explain that someone sank their boat and his mom won’t listen to him. He knew that it wasn’t his fault. I sighed as I got a better read on him. He had to live to a certain standard that he might never accomplish. His parents expected nothing less than perfection from him.

“I see why you’re so uptight all the time, Bottom,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. He was less than thrilled.

“Is everything a joke to you?” he asked. I felt my chest tighten. “God, why am I even telling you this?”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “You know that you don’t have to be perfect though right? Who cares if you don’t fit their standards. I don’t really know you-”

“You’re right. You don’t know me. You don’t get it because you’ve never had to be anything, but your annoying, carefree self,” he muttered angrily at me.

I closed my mouth, not continuing my sentence. However, the thought wouldn’t leave my head. I don’t really know you, but you can’t keep taking pieces of yourself off and reassembling them into something else. You’re going to lose sight of yourself and then what are you left with when you have no pieces left to shape? It’s exhausting and you shouldn’t do that to yourself.

I sat in silence as we turned around to go home. I wanted to keep talking to him, but I clearly wasn’t helping. I stared out the window and stared at the ocean. I felt him look over at me, but I didn’t avert my gaze. We pulled into his driveway and I got out quickly. I began walking back to my house, saying goodbye in the process.

“Aurora-” he said my name and I turned to look at him. I could tell apologizing wasn’t something he did often. He opened his mouth to say it, but nothing came out.

“It’s fine,” I said, before turning around and walking back up to my house.

I walked back up to my room and laid down on my bed. I stared up at the ceiling and thought about if I would truly like it here. I shut my eyes and imagined all the Aurora’s before this one. I remembered when we lived in Washington. That Aurora was cool and couldn’t be bothered. She was the stoic, moody, wallflower type. Then there was Minnesota Aurora. She was adventurous and rebellious. I wondered who Outer Banks Aurora would be. Maybe she could be preppy and snarky like Rafe would probably enjoy. Maybe she could be quite and reserved like Topper would probably enjoy. She could be anything I wanted, except for who I actually was. The real me was annoying and hard to tolerate. She was emotional and sensitive. She was vulnerable.

When I opened my eyes back up, the sun was setting. I sat up and placed a smile upon my face. I looked so natural for how forced it was. I pushed myself up from the bed and opened my bedroom door. The house looked even more ridiculous now that the midday light was gone. The fancy chandelier twinkled brighter than the stars and the stainless steel appliances were shinier than anything I have ever owned in my life. I walked into the kitchen and saw my dad working on some paperwork.

“Hey,” I said, opening the fridge in order to grab myself something to drink. He asked me why I had locked myself up in my room all day. I shrugged in response. This wasn’t unusual behavior for me so he didn’t worry too much. He called it my post-move blues. For him, this was an adjustment period and he didn’t ask too many questions. If only he knew that this was a rebranding period. Everything that I was going to tell Topper not to do, I did every few months. I was such a hypocrite.

My head shot towards the door as a knock echoed through our nearly empty house. My dad and I exchanged a weird look and I told him I would get it. When I opened up the door, Topper stood there awkwardly. He was rubbing his neck with one hand and holding our plate in the other. I felt my shoulders sink a bit when I saw him.

“Hey, I brought your plate back,” he said. “The cookies were really good.”

I took the plate from him and told him that I was glad they enjoyed them. I could tell that he still felt bad about earlier and I wondered if he had even volunteered to bring the dish back. I gave a small smile and thanked him for bringing it back. I grabbed the door handle, not expecting the conversation to continue.

“Wait!” he said, placing a hand on the door. “Can we talk?”

I opened my mouth, but couldn’t find the right words. I nodded and told him to wait there. I ran the plate to the sink and told my dad I would be out for a little bit. I told him not to lock the doors and walked back to the front.

We walked in silence from my front door to his dock. I sat down on the wood panels and dipped my feet in the water. The golden light shined down across the water, but even that beauty wasn’t enough to eliminate the awkward tension that filled the space between us. I pursed my lips together and wondered if he would ever start talking.

“I’m sorry,” he said. I turned my head to look at him and smiled. I told him that it was fine. He wasn’t buying it though. I wondered if every little thing was this big of a deal to him? Did he dwell on every conversation for hours? “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You were just trying to help.” “It’s fine,” I said with a small laugh to let him know that I meant it. I told him that he worried too much and that I wasn’t upset. “You shouldn’t do that to yourself though.”

“Do what?” he asked. His eyes stared at me, clearly engaged in the conversation.

“Expect perfection,” I said with a sigh. “It can be really draining. You’ll run yourself ragged if you continue to shape yourself into a certain image.”

He stared at me as I tried to shake the sad expression from my face. A faint smile painted itself across my face almost in a sarcastic manner. It looked fake unlike any other one he had seen on me. He just nodded and stared back out over the water. He stared at how the water rippled ever so slightly and we sat there, just enjoying another person’s company.

“Hey Aurora?” he asked. I turned to look at him as he spoke. “What do you want to do after this? After high school?”

The truth was far from what I told him. The truth was that I wanted to go to college and make a home for myself. I wanted friends and a family. Most importantly, I wanted to stay in one spot. Surely I would travel, but at the end of the day, I would go back to my home with my family and be happy. I would forget about saving the world and everyone else. I would work on saving me.

“I’ll probably go to college and major in Environmental Sustainability or Journalism. Then, join the peace coup like my parents,” I said. “You know, save the world and stuff. How about you?”

“I’ll go to college in Chapel Hill, just like my mom,” he muttered. “I’ll get a solid job and move back to the Figure Eight.”

“I thought we were talking about dreams, not reality,” I said with a cheeky smile. He smiled back at me before he said something that blew my mind.

“Yeah, but it’s a two way street, Rory,” he said. His smile turned into a smirk as he called me by a nickname for the first time ever. “You don’t get to know mine, if I don’t get to know yours.”

He stood up, holding out his hand to help me up as well. I took it and he gently yanked me to my feet. My smile was uncontrollable and real for the first time in years as I stared at the first person to ever see though my mask. He paid attention in the same way I did. Maybe that’s why he over analyzes everything. The sun was almost completely set at this point. I remember that I had early morning plans with Rafe tomorrow and decided that it was late enough.

“I should head in. Don’t want to get locked out again,” I said with a chuckle, forcing myself to leave despite how intrigued I was. “Night Bottom.”

“Night Rory.”

___________________________________________

Tag List “ @outerbankslut​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @jiaraendgame​ @bricksatanakinswindow​ @outerbongs​ @kiarascarreras​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @potterheadhollander​ @rudths​ @spilledtee​ @queenieloveswriting​ @multifandomlovess​ @starlightstarkey​ @tomhardybby​ @diverdcwn​

[lesbianlovelanguage]

have you ever wished (for an endless night)

Here it is! My first Harringrove for BLM prompt, given by the ever lovely @catharrington! She asked for a sugar-high fairy Steve, so here it is! Thank you for the prompt and the donation babe!

You can find out more about the Harringrove for BLM movement here along with a growing list of participating artists/writers/creators 💖

—

Billy had been so proud of himself. He had the whole thing planned out perfectly; he commissioned a cake, talked to Robin about taking Steve out to do “human things”, and even went to the dollar store down the street to grab some cute party supplies. Things he would never have thought he’d be buying but knew Steve would love, like a shiny, holographic birthday banner and fluffy tissue paper streamers. Steve deserved nothing less.

It had started one night, when they were watching TV, and someone had been celebrating a birthday. Steve had turned to Billy, and about broken his heart when his big bambi eyes widened.

“What’s a birthday, Billy?” Steve’s voice was quiet and full of awe, like it had been when he found out about Halloween. And just like then, Billy was instantly reminded that Steve wasn’t just another roommate, but an otherworldly being who had somehow chosen Billy to be his All Things Human Guide, as Robin had dubbed him.

“Well, every year on the day someone was born, you celebrate them by throwing them a party, with presents and cake and shit.” That got Steve going. Suddenly he had a million questions, spouting them out rapid fire as he practically vibrated next to Billy on their couch. Billy tried to keep up and answer everything, but was taken aback when Steve threw into the mix

“So you guys keep track of the day you were born?” Billy paused.

“Do you not? Do you not know when you were born?”

“No,” Steve says dismissively. “We all celebrate the new year and that’s how we know how old we are.”

“Well, that changes today baby cakes. Pick a day. That’ll be your birthday, and we’ll celebrate.” Steve had eagerly bursted out “May 1st” as the first date that came to his mind, and Billy made a mental note that it was only a few days away. The topic died down, and Billy even thinks Steve may have forgotten about it a couple weeks later because it isn’t brought up again. But as spring began to warm up and prepare for the hotter months of summer, he began to formulate a plan.

He hid the decorations at Robin and Heather’s, with the promise that Heather would bring them over and help decorate while Robin took Steve out, even offering to pick up the custom cake he had bought at the bakery down the street. It was all set and when the day finally arrived, Billy was the one vibrating with nerves.

Robin called just after breakfast, telling Steve she would be over in a couple minutes to check out a new park she had found, and once they were gone, the decorating began. Slowly, Billy and Steve’s living room turned into a den of sparkly things and flowers. Billy also whipped up some of Steve’s favorite snacks and treats, and just as he was taking out the fruit platter, with extra strawberries of course, he could hear Robin and Steve’s voices from down the hallway. He was chattering excitedly about the park they had just visited and how excited he was for summer when the front door began to open.

The jolt of anxiety Billy felt disappeared as soon as he saw Steve’s face. His doe eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. Billy, Heather, and Robin all yelled out a “Surprise” that seemed to snap Steve out of his shock, and suddenly he was gone.

Not actually gone of course, but to anyone else, it looked like Steve had simply evaporated, leaving behind a pool of clothing. Before the three could move to find him though, a glittery bolt shot out of the clothes and a small figure zoomed around the apartment. Steve had gotten so excited he had slipped into his fae form. Ridiculous.

After Steve had zipped around and inspected each decoration, he flew back to Billy’s bedroom and reemerged in his human form, wearing a pair of Billy’s sweatpants and an old Metallica tee shirt, worn soft with age. Let the festivities commence. They ate, and played board games, and opened up a small present Tobin and Heather had made for him, a small gift basket of shiny objects that Robin explained were Good Luck charms she had enchanted to provide protection and good fortune, to decorate his small nest in the windowsill. He even exclaimed that he could use the basket to form a more solid base to it. Billy’s present came next, and somehow he felt shy after seeing the excitement the girls’ gift had evoked. He pushed the poorly wrapped box over in Steve’s direction, looking anywhere but.

Steve tore through the weak wrapping quickly, and paused silent when he managed to open it.

“Billy.” Steve’s voice was gentle before he pushed himself out of the chair and walked over to him.

“Billy, I love it.” And then Billy found himself with a lap full of the fae boy himself. Brown, soft locks tickled his nose, and Steve’s hands felt warm as they wrapped around him. “Thank you.” He choked out.

After a few moments of this, Heather cleared her throat and announced it was time for cake. Robin shot Billy a meaningful look and then got up to bring out the cake from where it sat in their fridge.

They lit candles and sang a terrible rendition of Happy Birthday, and Billy helped Steve cut a truly massive piece of the chocolate cake.

Really, what came next, Billy should have expected and tried to prevent, but he never could say no to those bambi eyes.

It started small, Steve unable to sit still as he flitted around the room, rambling at a mile a minute about this or that, and then coming back for another piece of cake. With each stolen piece, Steve’s jitters grew until he couldn’t possibly contain them anymore and he once again suddenly transformed into his fae form. Billy, Robin, and Heather quickly took shelter by sitting on the couch as they all settled in for the show. Steve was nothing but a sparkler as he shot around the small living room, rearranging his nest to fit the stones, doing laps through the entire house, before finally settling on literally bouncing between walls. Billy had the forethought enough to remove any pictures hanging well before this party, after the third picture crashed and shattered during a sugar high.

It took about thirty minutes for Steve to wear himself out, and finally he fell into Billy’s lap in an ungraceful sprawl. Considering he was the size of a small bird, it really wasn’t a bother to let him doze peacefully while Heather put on a random Disney movie. After the credits began to roll, the girls bid a sleepy Steve one final Happy Birthday, and told them both goodnight before slipping out the front door.

Billy carefully picked Steve up from his lap, and went to place him in his nest, only to realize that in his sugar craze, he had actually made the nest worse, with nowhere to sleep. He let out a sigh before trudging back to his bedroom. He set Steve down on the pillow on the right side of his bed and went through his nightly routine before gently sliding in and curling up to fall asleep, soothed by the small snores coming from the sleeping boy next to him.

—

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @trashmouth-hargrove @catharrington (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

[danetobelieve]

Weeb Night Two Electric Boogaloo || Rio, Skylar and Winston

Location: Nic & Skylar’s Home

Timing: the evening of the 17th of June

Tagging: @3starsquinn​, @theskyeandsea​ & @danetobelieve​

Description: The gang has weeb night two, Rio and Winston get progressively more awkward as the night goes on. 

Warnings: N/A

Winston would say that uncomfortable was an understatement. It wasn’t that they regretted kissing Orion. Quite the opposite. If anything they wished that they had been able to keep kissing him. But things hadn’t gone that way and Orion had gone in search of a toilet and Winston feeling supremely awkward and slightly rejected had ghosted. Probably not the best move but in their defence they had been very drunk. They’d asked one of Todd’s friends to make sure that they got home okay and everything and they’d waited up in their room to make sure that they heard the door close behind them just across the landing. They’d finally collapsed into bed before eventually waking up with their face stuck to a floorboard. Honestly, they were impressed they’d fallen out of bed without waking up. But as they looked at the front door to Skylar’s place with snacks in hand they wished that they were a better liar. If this hadn’t been pre-planned they’d have said they had to work. But if they tried to lie now they’d just upset someone and they could deal with awkward … right? Swallowing, Winston raised their hand and knocked on Skylar’s door. They were armed with drinks and snacks. “Hey, thanks for having this again, it’s been too long since I’ve got to do something normal like watch anime with friends.” 

While the immediate effects of bliss had faded, Skylar was still ecstatic at the prospect of having Winston and Rio over for their first anime night at her new home. There was so much more space in this house and… even though it felt odd, not having Nic there, it was still nice in other regards. She had space to store all her Pop! Figures and plushes, Dundee was growing on her (kind of like a weed, mostly because he followed her everywhere), and when Nic was here, the house felt like a home. But, it had gotten a bit lonely without him here. Which is why she was happy to have Winston and Rio over! As she checked the fridge to make sure there were a few beers in there for Winston, Skylar saw Dundee skitter past her towards the door. That must be one of them-- shutting the fridge, she hurried to the door and gently nudged Dundee out of the way. “Hey Winston!” She said with a bright smile. “Of course, I’m really glad that we could do this. I’ve been wanting to have you over for a while, but things got busy…” She shrugged before looking behind them, curious. “Did you and Rio come separately?”

Orion had been so excited for their revamped anime night. Things had all finally been good and fixed. Skylar seemed to have forgiven Rio and the two were friends again . Rio and Winston were best of friends, a far jump from when they had first met each other the last anime night. It was like things had come full circle. But of course, Rio couldn’t handle something like that without screwing it up. Things hadn’t been the same since the End of the World party. Just as Rio had feared, the world did not end that night. So instead he woke up the next morning, hungover and terrified that his friendship with Winston had been ruined forever. Maybe worse than that, the two had decidedly not talked about as if the kiss (er-kisses) had never even happened. At this point, Rio was way too nervous about it to bring it up. Now, it was anime night. It really had been full circle, all the way back to Rio being the root of why their time tonight would be awkward. Of course, Rio and Winston came separately but practically arrived at the same time, so Rio shoved himself into the trees to avoid the weirdness of walking up to the door at the same time. He didn’t know how he would handle the alone time with them while they waited for Skylar to answer the door. So he sat, huddled in the woods until Winston and Skylar had disappeared into her ridiculously big and beautiful home and he was able to calm his nerves enough to complete the trek to the front door. He knocked against it, each one sending his stomachs into a fit of stress. “Oh uh, hey!” Rio plastered on a smile and gave a small wave when the door was answered.

Winston decided that they liked Nic’s place. They had thought that they had been lucky to land a place like what Ricky had. But this was something completely different. “Of course, things definitely got really hectic for a minute there but now that me and … Rio have helped solve everything we should be able to chill out a bit. At least I hope so.” Winston stepped into the giant home and looked around slightly awe struck. Maybe Winston would have to reconsider being a hunter as a profession, although they were not actually sure that was what Nic did. Honestly they hadn’t considered that arriving separately might be weird. Lying on the spot was never an attractive option for Winston when they knew they were so bad at it. “I uh - came from work, I guess Rio was at the house before coming over but I had to work later then I thought so I couldn’t get him, I mean I couldn’t bring him with me because I was at work and he wasn’t, he- Rio was at home.” The door rapped at the sound of someone knocking and Winston could’ve jumped for joy. “That must be him.” Thank fuck for that.

As Winston spoke, Skylar realized a bit belatedly that the volume on her hearing aids was too low-- she’d gotten used to not wearing them around the house without Nic here. She subtly tucked her hair behind her ear, rolling her thumbs against the dials of her hearing aids to boost the sound so she wasn’t having to rely on lip reading so much. If she’d been paying attention, she might have heard the pause in their words. As it was, it didn’t register. As Winston continued to speak, Skylar eyebrows knitted together in mild confusion. Was everything okay? But, before she could question them about their rambling answer, she heard a knock at the door. She turned to open the door, beaming as she opened the door. “Hey, Rio. Good timing, Winston just got here.” She said, signing as she spoke. “Come on in. Dundee, no.” She said as the dog attempted to make a break for the door, catching him with the edge of her foot. “Sorry. I hope you two don’t mind him.” Skylar apologized as she led them inside. “There’s some snacks and drinks in the fridge-- I bought some Mountain Dew for you,” She said with a grin at Rio. She was excited to be able to have just a fun night in together with the two other anime fans in town.

The last time that Orion had seen Skylar was probably when they researched Skylar’s lost voice, and he was super excited to get to see her again. It had been way too long, and despite the rocky start the two got off to, Rio considered her one of his closest friends. Winston too, if Rio could ever move past how awkward it was to leave Winston standing there alone on the dance floor. And to come out of the bathroom afterwards unable to find them anywhere. Rio was convinced that Winston was too drunk to remember the kiss even happened, which Rio desperately hoped was true. “No worries! I love Dundee!” Rio assured Skylar, bending down to attempt to pet the hyper little guy. “Uh hey Winston” Rio waves from afar, “Sorry I uh- had some running to do. At the place with books and stuff. So we couldn’t ride together.” Rio lied, changing subjects quickly after to clap at Skylar’s drink menu. “You’re the greatest thank you so much.” Maybe if he just chugged Mountain Dew all night he wouldn’t be able to talk at all and embarrass himself. “So what are we watching tonight?”

Winston was semi flustered by the arrival of Rio. He looked good. Maybe a bit tired. But then again when did either of them get enough sleep? It felt like they’d spent hundreds of hours working together, either in the library or researching a way to beat squidward. It had only been a few days of avoiding and Winston gave them a quick smile as they moved towards the dog. “Hey dude, glad you got here okay.” Honestly, they weren’t really paying as they also crouched down to scoop up the dog, only to gently knock their head against Orion’s sending their glasses skittering to the floor. “Oh, shit sorry I didn’t… see you.” Winston quickly grabbed their glasses and moved to the other side of the kitchen. “I actually don’t know what we’re watching, did you have a plan Skye or do we want to pick something?” Winston stuffed their mouth full of doritos to avoid speaking anymore. They felt like they’d already done too much to draw attention to themselves. Even if there were only three of them.

“And Dundee loves you too.” Skylar said with a smile as she made her way to the fridge. Neither she or Nic really cared for the little dog, so he was enjoying the attention of the others, “Do you want a beer?” Skylar asked Winston from the fridge as she pulled out a can of Mountain Dew for Rio, setting it on the counter for him. “I don’t normally drink it, but Nic has some that he likes, I’m sure he won’t mind you having one or two.” She nodded. He might have a scowly face and reputation for being the gruff alligator man, but he was honestly a really kind guy. Hearing the sound of clattering against wood flooring, Skylar looked over and was surprised to see Winston grabbing their glasses from the ground and hurrying off to the opposite side of the kitchen. Was something wrong? The house wasn’t too strange, was it? She’d been to Ricky and Winston’s home before, all those months ago and while Nic’s was different, she didn’t think it was too too different. A bit anxious, she held out a beer to Winston. “Um-- I had a couple ideas! There’s this one really cute show on Netflix called Cell’s at Work, I’ve got some Studio Ghibli movies, and Rio got me the director’s edition of A Silent Voice for my birthday, so we could also watch that.” She looked over at Rio with a nod, “Thank you again, I love this movie so much.”

Orion accepted the Mountain Dew from Skylar, still rubbing the spot on his head where it collided with Winston’s. Even with hunter speed, Rio couldn’t get to Winston’s glasses to pick them up for them before Winston had already snatched them and retreated to the opposite end of the kitchen. God, this was the worst. Rio really didn’t know if he could make it without Winston’s friendship now. Not only were they roommates, which meant things could only get more and more awkward if they were forced to live together. But Rio had spent so many nights hysterically laughing with them while fighting the exhaustion that came from their lack of sleep. Rio’s eyes widened at the offer of alcohol and actually breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it wasn’t being offered in his direction. Thank God. Rio should probably just not drink. Ever again. Just to be safe. “Oh those are all great options!” Rio grinned in spite of the awkwardness of the evening. He made a heart symbol with his hands and signed ‘You’re Welcome’ before pointing at Skylar. “I’ve heard Cell’s at Work is good but haven’t seen it yet. I could watch A Silent Voice anytime. But no promises that I won’t cry.” Plus, it gave him more opportunities to practice his signing, which he had gotten pretty good at. “What uh-what are you thinking Winston?” Why did his voice crack every time he said Winston’s name? Jesus, this wasn’t middle school. “I mean about what to watch. Not just like... randomly asking you broadly what you’re thinking about. Which I mean you could totally say. You can say anything. But uh- I was directly referring to what we should watch.” Rio facepalmed himself and tried playing it off as scratching at an itch. Could he get more awkward?

Glancing at the beer that Skylar was offering to them Winston was about to turn her down when they decided that they could actually probably do with one beer. Twelve year old Winston would be so disappointed that they were drinking to avoid their problems. “I can only do one, someone’s got to drive us home.” Winston wasn’t sure what was going on between them and Orion but there was no way that they would make Orion get home without Winston driving them. That was cruel and obvious that there was something wrong. Not that they were doing a very good job of hiding that. “Uh, no don’t worry .. Rio, I mean Orion, you, I …” Winston swallowed, “I understood that you were talking about anime.” God Winston wished they had doritos or popcorn or something that they could eat so that they had more time to think about what they were going to say before they said it. But they’d moved away from the snacks and walking to put food in your mouth was super obvious. Swallowing nervously, Winston nodded. “I like both suggestions, maybe the Netflix one if we’ve all seen Silent Voice before and then if we still want to keep going, then we can or you know if someone has a better suggestion then I’m fine with that. I’ve got Netflix at home so I guess I can watch Cell’s at Work whenever I want.” Winston had been inching towards the bowl of popcorn on the counter and quick handful of it went in their mouth. “Do you want me to carry anything through to … wherever we’re going to watch.” 

Grabbing the packet of beef jerky she’d stashed in the pantry, Skylar popped a piece into her mouth and chewed as she listened to the two of them. There was something… a little weird about what was going on. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed like there was some kind of tension? Had they been fighting? Oh no… She hadn’t made things awkward by insisting that they have the anime night? She didn’t want to make things worse for them if they were arguing. Swallowing, Skylar pulled the barn door that separated the kitchen from the living room, with its modern furnishings and large television. “Since none of us have seen Cell’s at Work, we can watch that one? And if we decide we don’t like it, we can keep our options open, okay?” She asked, her voice slightly higher than she meant it to come out. Though the bliss was still running in her veins, she could tell that it’s effects were fading just a bit more every day. The pain lingered at the edges of her mind and her old thoughts were resurfacing, even now. But, she pushed them away, focusing on her two friends instead. “Um, yes, if you want to bring the chips and the popcorn, that’d be great. Rio, can you help them?” She suggested as she began to fiddle with the remote control to the television.

“Cell’s at Work it is! I think this is a great idea. I haven’t started a new anime in forever.” Orion was desperate for some normalcy. Even if things were awkward, once the three started watching the show and got into it, some of that would return. How awkward could things be between Rio and Winston when they weren’t even speaking? Rio didn’t actually know the answer to that, but he was sure it would be less than it was in this kitchen right now. Skylar stepped into the other room to get the TV set up and asked Winston and Rio to grab the food. So the two of them were momentarily alone. Even though Skylar was just feet away, within eye sight of Rio turned his head, that open barn separating them felt like some line of defense being shattered. Rio’s face heated up immediately and he didn’t want to think about how visible the red on his face must be. He sulked over to the snacks, reaching for the popcorn bowl before realizing that Winston was doing the same thing. Rio froze mid-grab and did not move for what felt like a few minutes. He laughed nervously and redirected for the chips only to find that Winston had done the same thing. God, this was absolutely ridiculous. Finally, Rio swiped a few bag of chips and hurried into the room, hoping to gauge where Skylar would be sitting so he could use her as a buffer. He hated this. He hated being so weird around Winston and he hated using Skylar as a shield. It took the focus off of what fun the night was supposed to be. “Welp I’m all settled in and ready to start right now  or uh- when everybody is ready.”

Swallowing back an awkward lump that had crept up their throat, Winston turned to grab the snacks and proceeded to take part in the most annoying dance that they had ever taken part in. Honestly. They went left and Rio went that way too, they went for the pop corn and Rio was there with his hands and then they went for the chips before giving up entirely and watching Rio scamper from the room as if he had done something wrong. They had been about to make a joke about Rio making up his mind but they hadn’t got the courage up to say anything before Rio dashed from the room and honestly at that moment Winston just wished that they could say something to reassure them but now really wasn’t the place and it definitely wasn’t the time. They would have to get through the awkward anime first and then maybe if Winston could build up the courage to address it he might say something. As they stood there in the kitchen alone for a moment, Winston grabbed the snacks and joined them in the living room. Settling into an armchair, Winston placed the bowl of popcorn on their lap and was pleased that this was a good way of avoiding having to obviously not sit next to Rio. “I am all good to get started,” Winston replied with a thumbs up, “I’ve been waiting to watch this for ages … so it should be good.” 

Skylar curled up on one end of the couch with the bag of beef jerky, fully expecting Winston and Rio to join her on the very large cushions. But, when Winston sat on one of the adjacent armchair, she blinked before the oddness of the situation was pushed from her mind. It was nice, this was nice. Even if things were weird and Rio and Winston were fighting… No, she didn’t know that for sure. But, why else would they be acting like this? As the two gave her the greenlight, she nodded enthusiastically. “Sounds good to me! Let’s get started.” Skylar said and watched as a very cute anime girl in all red began to run across the screen, pushing a pallet loader full of sandwiches. As odd as the other two, Skylar couldn’t help but think back to the last anime night they’d had. She’d felt awful, she’d been chugging coffee the entire time and then when Rio had found her skin, it’d only made her feel worse. But right now? Both of them knew what she was and they were still here, sitting next to her. And she wasn’t in any pain, no measurable pain at least. It was nothing she couldn’t ignore. Instead, she focused on the adorable on-screen antics instead. “Aw, the platelets are adorable.” She remarked.

Orion was so relieved when they finally started the show. Even if the show was incredibly boring, Rio was willing to pretend that it was incredibly interesting and groundbreaking if it meant not having to fumble through a conversation where Winston and Rio talked to Skylar and purposely dodged any conversation that dealt with the both of them. Rio just wanted to sink into the couch and disappear from view. Rio just wanted to act normally. Which wasn’t easy to do right now. But it was obvious that Skylar could tell that there was... something going on between the two. And Rio couldn’t argue it. They had been acting like crazy people. “Yeah the art style is really good.” Rio agreed. He was trying so hard to stay completely focused on the show. But he kept finding his eyes roam over towards Winston and Skylar. He just wanted things to be okay. He found his glances lasting longer and long until eventually he was just staring over at Winston. Despite being drunk, Rio had memorized every single marking the group of painters had put on their body. Rio could still picture them, but Rio’s eyes were homed in on Winston’s lips. At least, until Winston must have realized that they were being stared at. Rio practically jumped out of his skin and stared at the screen again. “Wow this voice acting is really good too.”

It was hard to focus on the anime. With everything that they were planning on doing with Bea, with everything that had happened with them narrowly avoiding the end of the world, Winston had to admit that they weren’t really focussed on what was important. They were focussed on the way that Rio’s hair fell around his face. They were focussed on how beautiful his face was, on the way his chest rose and fell as he took breaths. Then they were aware that Rio was staring at them and they had to look away. They were hoping that Skylar wouldn’t have noticed that they were so preoccupied by everything. “This is my favourite thing about anime,” were they talking because they had something to say or just so that they didn’t look like they were being awkward…. “So many amazing ideas that are just imagined via animation, it is really amazing.” 

“It’s like a cute version of Osmosis Jones.” Skylar remarked as she focused on the cartoon on screen. It was easier to watch this than try to muddle through whatever was happening with Winston and Rio, so that’s what she decided to do. It was just simpler this way and felt better than asking them what was wrong. Chewing on a piece of jerky, she nodded along with Winston and Rio’s comments. “Mhm! Yup, agreed on both of those. Like… who would have thought that anime could make learning about… red and white blood cells interesting?” She commented. As she spoke, Skylar ran her palms ambiently along the material of the couch. It was so soft. It felt really nice against her skin, fuzzy. Focusing on that feeling, still basking in the joy of being able to have a fun night like this, Skylar continued to watch the show.

It felt like the three were just talking about random, unimportant things just because they thought that they needed to be talking to each other. They had buzzwords. Basic, surface level things that they would have said to a stranger that was watching the same show. So why were the three of them, who were good friends and had been through so much together, talking about such shallow things? Obviously, Orion knew that he was the one to blame. He just wished he hadn’t been so stupid. “I uh- I heard that it’s actually pretty accurate too.” Rio interjected, happy to provide some sort of dialogue, “I mean of course it’s over dramatized and stuff. But I’ve heard the creator of the manga did a lot of prior research and had help to make it as medically accurate as possible.”

The tension in the air just felt wrong, Winston couldn’t help but hate it. Skylar and Rio, Winston had individually and collectively been through so much with both of them. They were some of their closest friends and because of their idiocy they had of course made things awkward. Forcing themselves to relax slightly, Winston chewed through a mouthful of popcorn before turning. “Hey, I know things have been kind of … well they’ve really sucked recently. For all three of us, but I’m really glad that we could do this again. There’s no one else that I would rather be with tonight then the two of you watching this. Which, is really awesome by the way, this was a really good choice.” 

Skylar didn’t immediately pick up on Winston or Rio speaking, too caught up in the animated characters to register that they were saying things. “That’s really cool that they did that sort of research!” She nodded enthusiastically as she continued to watch. At Winston’s words, her smile only grew. It was really nice for them to do this. And she was really, really happy that they were here. There wasn’t much that could make this better, honestly. Maybe if Remmy was here, or Shiloh, or Ricky, or Morgan, or Nic, or any number of the other people in her life who were going through some rough times. But, this was still good. Rio and Winston were some of the best people she knew and it just felt nice to be around them again. “For sure! I’m glad that we could do this too, I’m really happy you both came.” She beamed. “And I’m glad you like the show.”

Hearing them, it almost made all the anxiety that Orion was feeling go away. Even if things were weird and sort of messy right now at least they all still cared for each other. That was the important thing, right? That they were all friends and got to do anime nights like this? Growing up, it was all Rio had ever really wanted. Friendship. Maybe Rio didn’t want to pretend the kiss never happened. Because he knew how he felt about Winston. But… things apparently weren’t meant to be like that. Rio had ruined everything or Winston didn’t feel the same way or… the specifics didn’t really matter. As long as he could try to forget and move on so things could go back to how they were a few weeks ago. “Me too. Uh- Ditto on all that. You’re both the best. I can’t believe that I actually have friends to watch anime with. It’s weird to think about but I’m really happy. Regardless of anything else going on.”

Frowning gently, Winston settled down and glanced in Rio and Skylar’s direction. Except for the first time in the evening their not so subtle glance had not been directed at Orion. But Skylar. They’d noticed that she had seemed a little bit out of sorts. When they’d been messaging the other night and even today, it wasn’t that she didn’t seem like Skylar, she just seemed so much more joyful then they had ever seen them. Which was absolutely not a bad thing, but it seemed a little odd. “I don’t get how someone came up with the idea of teaching us about Cells and how they work via the magic of anime.” Winston popped a kernel of pop corn in their mouth and crunched through it. 

“It’s really, really nice.” Skylar agreed with Rio, bobbing her head emphatically. She’d never thought that she would meet people this nice, this good, or this fun to hang out with when she moved to White Crest. But, here she was, in a big giant house with an amazing roommate and wonderful friends, watching a cute new anime and just having fun. It felt good to have fun. Laughing at Winston’s comment, she nodded. “Right? Some people are just super creative. I never would have thought to do something like this at all.” She said with another nod.

Things seemed marginally less awkward now. Orion kept noticing his eyes drift over to Winston but overall, the show was good enough that it worked well to keep his attention focused. Thank god, considering how terrible things could have been if they had decided to do something other than quietly watch a show. Trying to imagine the awkwardness of a board game or just dinner with friends made Rio cringe. But the three just had a fairly normal conversation. Rio and Winston spoke in the same vicinity without being entirely awkward, and honestly this was this most enthusiastic Rio had ever seen Skylar. He didn’t put too much thought into it, figuring she had just been super excited to finally be watching this anime or to get the gang back together for a marginally less dramatic anime night 2.0. Either way, Rio was happy to see her seem so... happy. She hadn’t had the best of luck recently. With the vampire watermelon attack and losing her voice she had seemed so... out of it. And who knew what else had been going on that Rio hadn’t been around for. “I’m gonna grab another soda... anybody want anything while I’m in there?” Rio asked, hopping up from the couch and shaking his empty can. It was like a weird case of deja vu ran through him “And I’m totally just going to the kitchen. Nowhere else. I promise. No more weird stuff. You both know about me now. Um... so yeah. sorry again for ruining the first anime night.” And the second, but at least this one still had potential.

“I don’t know Skye,” Winston replied with a shrug, “I’m sure you’ve got your own creative outlet.” Everyone did. Different strings for different things and all that. Raising an eyebrow at Orion’s frankly forced confession, Winston did not really know what they could say in response. They were still sure that there was something different with Skylar. They couldn’t put a finger on it but Rio had done enough to distract Winston from that for now. “Are you sure? I think that Nic would love it if you went through his things.” Winston hoped that the joke would be well received. Honestly, awkward humour was a close follow on from Winston doing something awkward and they couldn’t help but burst out laughing a second later. “I’m good on the soda front though,” Winston flashed Rio a smile. It was things like that which worked for Winston. So genuine to apologise for something that had been left well in the past. 

As the episode ended, Skylar focused on the closing animation. The music was a little high pitched and it rang a little too harsh in her ears, but it didn’t hurt her ears. Nothing hurt anymore. At Rio’s words, she offered an enthusiastic thumbs up in his direction. “Oh like when you went in my room and totally dug around and found my skin? You won’t wanna do that here, Nic’s got a lot of guns and stuff just kinda hiding all over the place. But, I’m all good here, I don’t need anything.” She said with a grin. Turning to look at Winston, she tilted her head. “Mhm, I don’t know about that. I mostly just do ASL and read.” She said with a blithe shrug. 

Orion absolutely deserved any roasting that came his way from that night. He had clearly not been in his right mind when he decided to go through her things out of some misguided delusion that he was protecting her. Still, it was a bit off the way she phrased it. Rio didn’t mind, it was mostly meant as a joke and Skylar didn’t sound mad or anything. It just sounded very... different from how she had reacted to it in the past. “Yeah uh I’ve very strictly minded my own business since then. Scout’s honor.” He almost launched into the explanation that he had only been in the boys scout for a couple of weeks before quitting but it seemed excessive. Besides, Rio got distracted when Winston was laughing and smiling at him again. It felt like it had been a while since the two had gotten to laugh together. He really missed their laugh. Rio giggled along with Skylar and Winston, moving forward while keeping his eyes focused on the two of them. He misjudged his path, tripping into the table and just barely catching a lamp from tipping over. “Sorry! Sorry. My bad” Rio laughed again, correcting the lamp and waving his arms around as if probing his safety to the two. Finally, he disappeared into the kitchen to grab his drink.

Laughing gently at the roasting that Skylar had provided Rio, Winston found a grin slowly dancing across their lips. “You’re good dude,” Winston replied with the same grin, “oh shit, you okay?” Winston couldn’t help but giggle. How was it possible that Rio was somehow more clumsy then them? Winston wasn’t sure and they didn’t really care. It was cute and endearing as fuck. “ASL and reading is pretty cool either way, have you ever thought about writing?” they weren’t really going for anything, they were just curious. They were sure that Skylar had a few good stories to tell. 

The sound of Winston and Rio laughing filtered in through the lingering lightness that filled Skylar’s head and she laughed alongside them. Her laughter only grew as she watched Rio stumble and nearly knock over a lamp. Leaning further into the cushy material of the couch, she continued to smile even after the small fit of giggles petered away. It was all just… so much better. Everything about this was better than how it had been. All thanks to Felix and the little vial tucked away in the desk of her room. “I don’t think I’d be any good at writing.” She said with a shake of her head, her choppy hair flowing around her shoulders. “I don’t think anyone would want to read anything I came up with anyways.” She said with an offhand shrug. At her words, Dundee hopped up on the couch between her and Winston and began to stare at her guest, his beady eyes unblinking. 

After grabbing a second Mountain Dew, Orion stood in the kitchen for a bit longer, welcoming the moment to himself to collect his thoughts. This was okay. This was good, even. Things could go back to normal soon. Winston used magic, maybe they could whip up some spell to make both of them forget the kiss even happened. The only problem was that Rio really, really didn’t want to forget it. While staring at the countertop, Rio’s hearing picked up on the conversation in the other room. He finally popped the tab on the can open and took a drink before heading back in to join his friends. “I’d totally want to read anything you wrote.” Rio interjected, hoping that they did not take it as him intruding in their conversation. And redound his seat on the couch, taking notice of Dundee staring at Winston. Rio found himself staring at the dog, “Your dog is very strange.”

Raising an eyebrow gently as their laughter subsided, Winston glanced at Dundee and then at Skylar. Then Rio walked in and Winston had a brief moment of eye contact and then back to the dog who still had his beady little eyes fixated on Winston’s. Suddenly Winston could understand why maybe Skylar wasn’t a dog person. “Uh, did I do something wrong?” they asked as they shifted their feet from underneath them and tried to get Dundee to look at something else. “Why is your dog being so weird?” It was a little unnerving honestly and Winston wasn’t sure that they really knew how to make it stop. 

“I don’t know, I just don’t think anyone would care about what I think!” Skylar said with a cheery shrug, her legs swinging over the edge of the couch as she spoke. As she did, she noticed that Dundee was still locking eyes with Winston. “Oh, he’s not my dog. He’s not really Nic’s dog either. He just came with the house.” Putting a hand on Dundee’s head, she gave the small dog an awkward pat on the head, her fingers unused to giving an animal physical affection. “I dunno, he just kinda does this sometimes.” She said before blinking as Dundee began to shiver for a moment, the fur on his back rippling strangely as the dog appeared to be vibrating with energy. All the while, his eyes remained trained on Winston. Before any of them could do anything, Dundee let out a sneeze, his face spinning in a whirlwind of fur. 

Orion would happily read anything that Skylar wrote, but Skylar didn’t seem bothered by the discussion anyways. She was definitely acting differently, right? Rio would ask Winston about it afterwards… if the two were really talking right now at least. Instead, the conversation seemed to shift entirely over to their dog. Which apparently wasn’t really their dog at all. That was only a bit unnerving. “Oh. So like he was the previous owner’s? That’s strange, right? To leave their dog?” Rio was very confused right, his eyes still staring at the dog that was staring at Winston. Dundee broke the stare first, erupting into a sneeze way more intense for it’s tiny little body. Rio’s eyes widened as the dog’s entire body shook in the aftermath. After a long moment of staring, Rio found himself giggling until he was erupting into full blown hystericals. “Oh my god, what was that?” He tried asking midlaugh, wiping at tears that had escaped his eyes.

Giggling to themselves and their friends, Winston felt their sides ache gently from all the laughter that they had been indulged in. It was nice that despite everything that had happened between Rio and Winston, this was something that they could still share together. Honestly, if anything it made Winston feel kind of better about the whole situation. Like even if everything went the worst possible way that it could there was still some hope that they wouldn’t be awkward for the rest of their life. Winston exploded in another fit of laughter as Dundee sneezed. “That dog is officially the cutest thing that I have ever seen,” Winston said as they reached behind their lenses and brushed a stray tear of joy from their eyes, “was that a sneeze?” 

With laughter ringing through the large, empty house, her friends beside her, Skylar joined in with the other two. Her shoulders shook with mirth as she looked at Dundee, who was now busily licking his paw. The strange energy she’d felt on him when she’d touched his head had vanished and he seemed to be back to normal-- or, whatever kind of normal passed for the strange little dog. “I think it was.” Skylar managed with a final chuckle, shaking her head. Everything about this moment, it was more than she had ever imagined would be possible for her. To be surrounded by friends, laughing, joking, just having a nice normal night in? She wished it could last forever.

[ajokeformur-ray]

To the love of my life.

This GIF made me cry. I’m writing my feelings out while they’re happening kkkskskkss. Not an imagine; just a vent from a wife who cherishes her clown <3

WC: 1, 509.

Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.

You tried so hard, so hard, for so long and you were only ever beaten down, abused, marginalised, ignored. You were unseen, unnoticed, unloved for so long... thirty five years. You did everything right, darling, and none of this was your fault.

You went to therapy (how the fuck were you supposed to relax in a room so cramped?), took your medications (pretty sure most of those would have clashed with others or had wrong dosages), practiced your material, worked so hard all day every day for very little money, only to come home to someone who didn’t love and appreciate your for you.

You, with your sea green eyes and romantic dark curls.

You, with your cute crooked tooth and your adorable smile.

You, with your soft voice and your rough edges.

You, with your heart full of love, childlike innocence and unhealed traumas.

You, with the way you dance to the beat of your own heart, the music within your soul.

You.

I’m so sorry that you tried so hard for so long. I’m so sorry that no one helped you. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you, to hold you through those sleepless nights, to help you out of the fridge and into a fluffy blanket at 3 AM, to wrap your body in my arms and lavish kisses all over your face until you’re a giggling, sobbing wreck beneath my touch. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to surprise you with a hot bath and dinner after a long, unforgiving shift at Ha-Ha’s. 

I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to buy packs of cigarettes when you were having to ration them, to pick up your medications and to foot the bill without saying anything, to help you with the upkeep of the apartment and to help with Penny, that I wasn’t there to wipe your tears, chase away your fears, soothe you during a laughing fit, cuddle with you at all hours of the day and night, to patch up your wounds after you got jumped, to protect you from those wall street guys, Hoyt, Randall, and Murrat (that’s his name now, I don’t make the rules). To surprise Carnival at work with a packed lunch which I forgot to say I made for you before you left for work, to pick you up and to help you get the paint off your face on the way home. To hold your hand, our fingers interlocked, to dance with you on those stairs, to put a smile on your face.

To help you to dye your hair, to dance to That’s Life with you, to dance to the ending of The Murray Franklin Show with you, to curl up with you in bed every night. To wake you up at 4 AM because I want a cuddle but you’re laying wrong. To encourage you to do the same to me. To surprise you because I learned your makeup routine and want to show you. To surprise you even further by wearing your red suit and makeup out of the apartment because I love you so much I want the entire city to know I’m yours. To wash your hair, to worship your body with mine. To be there while you practiced your act as Carnival, to listen to your jokes and to help you work on your comedy. Baby, you’re hilarious. Gotham was sleeping on you and that’s a shame on them.

I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to listen to you, love you, protect you, to hold you. I’m so sorry for everything that I couldn’t do for you.

I’m so sorry, angel.

You deserve so much better. You always have and you always will. I would say that you even deserve better than me, but we’ve already had this conversation and I don’t want to make you angry at me again. I’m sobbing as I write this and my heart is clenching in my chest and it’s difficult to breathe but shit, all these words in my head, all this love in my heart. It’s intense but you��re worth every single second.

I wouldn’t trade what you and I have built together for the world. You are my clown blanket (and I’m yours when you want me to be), my reason, my motivation, my inspiration, my purpose, my love and my light, my muse, my entire world. I love you so much it makes my heart ache in my chest because no combination of words will ever be enough to adequately describe, to put across all the love which I hold for you in my body. It overflows, spills out of me. My love for you is bigger than me and it always will be.

You make me brave. You give me courage and strength, the ability to do and to be more. Every single day I do my best to look after myself because I want to make you proud. Everything I do is for you. You are the world’s best husband and I’m so lucky and so proud to know you and to love you as I do, to be loved by you as I am. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll do it again and again in every life as long as it brings us together.

When I walk in on you looking like you do in the GIF, I cross the room without saying anything, smoothing a hand through your hair as I sit in your lap. I wrap my arms around your neck, my fingers toying with the small hairs at the nape, and I listen to you. Even if you raise your voice, I will be brave for you. I keep still, trusting you to know my limits, and I will listen to you. I help you, give you advice if you need it, and if you don’t, that’s okay, too. I listen to you, I listen, and I hug you, rub your back and comfort you and kiss your tears away, your painted face cupped in my hands. I tell you that it’s okay to cry, to show your feelings in any way you want to, but to let me in, to let me help you in all the ways I couldn’t before. That it’s okay, I love you, and we’ll get through it together. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and I trust you to keep me safe in that promise. I know you trust me too.

On the show, you were as clear as a bell. All your anger, frustrations, pains and torments came pouring out, but still were you mocked. Made fun of. Ignored. No one listened to you. No one gave you a chance to defend yourself. No one helped you. No, you were ridiculed and treated like shit, and you exploded. And, my love, I was so proud of you. I still am, and I always will be. I always was. You taught me to stand up for myself by allowing me to witness you doing it for yourself. If you can be treated as you were and yet still so kind and soft were you, then so can I.

So can I.

I wish I could have been there for you during all of those times, Joker. Arthur.

I couldn’t protect you then, but I can protect you now.

You don’t ever have to pretend with me, darling. I love you so much, through the worst of your days and your best. I love you because of your flaws; in fact I love you deeper for them. You deserve so, so much more, and every day does my entire heart swell with love for you, every day does the love I feel for you and the love you feel for me make me cry. 

I love you I love you I love you I love youI love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

Loving you is the sweetest torture I’ll ever know, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your ever loving wife, 

Erika.

P.S.

What do you get when you cross a touch starved clown with a woman who’s heart is full of love?

...

You get what you deserve. ;)

[chyrstis]

Cold hands (but no cold heart here)

I wanted to get in at least one semi-winter fic before the season was up, and while this grew beyond what I’d originally planned for it, you’ll hear no complaints from me.

Pairing: F!Dep x Sharky Boshaw (pre-ship, but they clearly didn’t get the memo) Rating: T Word Count: 3.7K

Link to AO3!

___

She wasn’t built for the cold. But with him, she didn’t have to be.

______________

She wasn’t built for the cold.

In Detroit she could’ve better prepped for it. Learned how to handle it like a reasonable human being if she’d been able to live there longer than a handful of years, but she hadn’t been that lucky. She went south. Traveled with her mother to warmer climates, and learned how to better weather heatwave after heatwave, rather than the odd sixty degree and below day.

It was miserable when those days hit. Burrowing into her jacket, Hana had tried to tough it out. Insist she was doing alright, when in reality she badly wanted a heavier coat or a sweater, and latched onto her warmer friends as a result.

She did not think this through before moving to Montana.

Montana. The land of mountains, snow, and temperatures that would make any warm-blooded southerner weep.

As the resident southern transplant, Hana had begged Sharky to set up a campfire when they found a good spot for one, and nearly wept at the heat coming off of it. Rubbing her hands together, she kept them over the campfire, and soaked in every last bit of warmth she possibly could.

“Geez, Dep. You really digging it that much?”

Mid-sigh, she closed her eyes, and smiled. “You have no idea. I’ve been suffering out here.”

“Suffering? It’s…what, kinda cool, but not like we’re heading into winter?”

When she opened her eyes, Sharky was still squinting over at her, his attention squarely on her hands, and she wiggled her fingers at him. If anything, that made him stare harder, and she snorted.

“My hands are telling me a different story.”

“Yeah, it’s real nice out right now. Prime weather for a cookout, or a little down-home barbeque.”

“If you’re a living furnace.” And to be fair, if anyone was, it’d be him. “Vouch for me here, Grace.”

The other woman didn’t speak up immediately. Focused on her gear, Grace glanced up only long enough to meet her gaze across the fire. “He’s right.”

Her mouth fell open. “What?”

“Though I guess if you wanted to-“ Sharky stopped, and turned towards Grace as well, his own face frozen in shock. “Say what, Grace?”

“Weather’s nice, won’t argue that. Think you’d like the excuse to have a barbeque all year round, though.”

“Well, not all year. You take a break to smoke meat, or roast it. Maybe fry it, though our bird bomb didn’t go over so well that one year, so I think we’re off the hook for that.” He tossed some jerky into his mouth, and chewed on it loudly as he mulled Grace’s words over. “…But you ain’t wrong.”

“The police reports aren’t either,” Hana said, biting her lip.

The bag of jerky Sharky had just held out to her was promptly withdrawn. “I thought we were friends, H.”

That was straight-up dirty pool. “Oh no, you aren’t-“

“’Cause this was my sharing bag. The kind you keep close by for a bro so they don’t go and starve, but all I’m hearing is law talk and paperwork over there.”

Holding it out over towards Grace, Hana gasped as the other woman took the bag.

“See?” Sharky said, gesturing between them. “Bros.”

Grace handed the bag to her right after, and one look at Sharky’s face sent her straight into a laughing fit. One whole wheezing, doubled-over-and-holding-her-sides fit, and by the time she was able to look over at him through her tears, he’d settled back in his seat with a scowl.

“Shark. Shark, hon, don’t be like that, okay?”

Wiping at her eyes, she gave him the bag. Nudged him in the arm with it as he groused, and knew she was pouting a little herself.

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to be mean. You know you’re the best bud around, right? And I’d buy you a truck-load of jerky, if I could. Hell, there has to be at least one cult supply truck full of this stuff driving around.”

He snuck a quick glance at her. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I’d hijack that truck for you.” She held up her fingers. “Two trucks.”

A small smile started to creep onto his face. “We might be looking at a three truck minimum here.”

“…How about four?”

“Four?” He lit right up, and she couldn’t help but do the same. “Shit, we might be looking at a deal there, shorty.”

She held out her hand, and after a quick shake, she felt the tension subside. Even managed to snag a piece of jerky as well – a probationary peace offering of sorts that Sharky was all too serious about as she took it – and they all settled into silence after that.

She returned her hands to the fire after a few minutes, however, savoring that flash of heat.

“Seriously?”

“No dice, hon. I could be holding these over a lava flow and they’d still find a way to be cold.”

“No shit?” Sharky took her hands in his, and his eyebrows flew up. “Okay, that’s…that’s pretty damn cold. Like I could hand you something only to come back to it being ice cold soon after.”

“Really now?” she asked, feeling her cheeks warm.

The brief brush with the handshake was nothing compared to this. Moving her hands around in his grip, she pressed her palms to his. Got as much contact as she was able to, and wished the gloves weren’t between them.

“Yeah, you’re like the best portable fridge. Perfect for chilling with, doesn’t mind travel, so you can roll out and go whenever you want, and…is just all-around super cool like that.“

His hands stayed clasped around hers, both absurdly warm as they chased off the chill her fingerless gloves did jack to protect against. But when he started rubbing them lightly, somehow managing to warm the rest of her in the process, she cleared her throat.

“Super cool?”

“Yeah, super cool,” he replied, without batting an eye. “Ain’t that right, Grace?”

The rasp of a laugh from nearby made Hana’s eyes snap right to her. But it was too late. Her face was burning with a vengeance, and one look at their linked hands only made it ten times worse.

Tugging her hands away, Hana hopped up. “Think we’re due for a perimeter check.”

“What? We just did one ten minutes ago-“

She grabbed her rifle and made a beeline straight for the bushes.

She heard him calling after her, only a few feet out as she kept on going, and hoped like hell that by the time he caught up, she’d be back to normal.

Because this? This was starting to get a little ridiculous.

---

Heading north, the three kept on moving until the sun dipped low in the sky. That meant needing a place to set up camp, and for once their luck seemed to be looking up.

Up ahead, she’d caught the place with her binoculars. It was a smaller house, one that showed some signs of damage on the outside, but hadn’t been torched. While approaching it, Grace guided them forward. Motioned for them to stay quiet as they moved, keeping their weapons at the ready.

That lasted all of five minutes when Hana climbed through the open window only to hear something shatter nearby.

Creeping into what appeared to be the living room, she groaned when she spotted Sharky messing around with a ceramic figurine. Trying to fit the head of it back onto its torso, he fumbled at it, only to drop it when he caught her eye.

Jabbing a finger towards the other end of the house, she didn’t say a thing. Just pointed as Sharky gave her a sheepish look, and urged him to keep moving.

In the end, it was clear.

That made relief sink right into her, and once the three met up back in the living room, they quickly hashed out a plan for the night. Shifts, where to sleep, and noting any points of entry.

All points but the first they knocked out in less than thirty minutes. But the minute that was done, before Sharky could say a single word, she held up her hands and issued a challenge.

Rock, paper, scissors.

Their usual go-to to settle any and all shift arguments, and after the last few nights of peace, she’d seen the glint in his eye. He’d been biding his time, waiting to see if she’d try to call dibs early. When she didn’t, and he failed to call it in turn, they both dove right in with their first set of choices.

Midway through her and Sharky’s second round, however, Grace intervened. “We doing this again?”

“Yes,” Hana said, matching Sharky’s paper with her own. “Well, the two of us are, because we’ll never be able to get shift assignments down otherwise, but if you want in, winner’ll gladly take you on.”

Things grew quiet after that. The only sound around coming from them slapping their hands together, both matching their picks and swearing in the process.

Out of the corner of her eye, however, she noticed Grace’s tapping foot. Chancing a look her way, Hana took in her crossed arms and drawn expression, and felt her motions begin to slow down until they reached a complete halt.

Grace shook her head. “Sharky? Take first.”

He stopped, his scissors outclassed by the rock Hana was wielding, and groaned. “Seriously?”

“I get what you two are trying at, but we don’t have time to waste doing this. You want second?”

Sharky frowned, but after thinking it over shook his head. “Nah, I’ll do it. Least it’ll get it out of the way so I can snag some Zs after.”

“Well, if he’s doing first, I’ll take second.”

“Third it is.” Grace tilted her head towards Hana. “You two really want to do this every time?”

“Not every time,” she said, placing her hands on her hips. “But if I call dibs first, that’s non-negotiable.”

“Which ain’t cool at all, Dep,” Sharky muttered.

“You’ve done it too! Sometimes before we’ve even left the damn car to check to see if it’s even worth staying at a place.”

“Only ‘cause I know you’ll spring it on me later. Taking advantage of the fact that I’m set on doing the max amount of boogying only for you to call it right when it’s getting good? That’s just low.”

He was miffed. Genuinely miffed at her over this, and she gaped at him. “You aren’t serious.”

“Uh, I’m pretty fucking serious. ‘Specially when it means you’re the one getting the drop on some cool shit happening, having all the badass moments anyone could ever ask for, and I’m in the next room doing nothing, and I can’t even take my pants off-“

“You’re sleeping. People need to do that.”

“But I wanna have your back on that. Maybe even get in some sweet back to back action too, before any of the Peggies give us the runaround, ‘cause you know we’d kick ass at it.”

“Hon, I mean it. You really aren’t missing out on much.”

She didn’t know what face he was making, but knew the frustration she gave off wasn’t helping in the slightest.

“Jesus, Shark. It’s not like I always win these things! I mean, you’re the reason why we have the whole two out of three thing going to begin with, and-“

Hana stopped.  

Noticing the sudden Grace-shaped gap in the room, she took a quick look around and couldn’t find a single trace of her.

“…We weren’t that bad, were we?” Hana asked, shooting Sharky a nervous glance.

“Nah, didn’t think we were. Would’ve won this one, though.”

“Oh? You really think so?”

“Wouldn’t even need two out of three,” he said, smirking right at her. “I’d get that shit in one. Right out the gate.”

She narrowed her eyes. When she made no move to restart the game, Sharky waggled his eyebrows at her, and she felt her fingers twitch.

“Don’t tempt me, Boshaw.”

“You know you wanna.” With that tone he’d clearly missed the memo. “I’ll trade you if you win. Give you all of the dibs you could ever want or call. All first, no contest.”

Good thing she was set on ignoring it too. “None?”

“Not a single one, scout’s honor,” he said, holding up a hand. “Not that I got through much of the whole badge-earning business and shit, but learning to start fires, chop wood, and tie a rope’s enough to give me a free pass to use that once. Maybe even twice.”

Hana whipped out her hands, setting her fist in her open palm, and his face lit up in delight.

Their choices came quick, hers lingering a beat behind as she watched him. Taken more than a little by the grin he was wearing, she slapped down the first thing that popped into her mind.

Paper.

The V Sharky made with his fingers hovered in front of him as he snipped the air, and she dug her teeth right into her lip.

“Fuck.”

“Better luck next time, Dep.”

---

It wasn’t a large house, so having to cover one floor wasn’t tough.

The tough part all came down to settling in, reinforcing both the front and rear entrances, making sure their weapons were close enough to grab – and in her case, not freezing to death. But that was more of a personal problem than anything else.

Much as she missed the campfire from the morning, there was no point in starting one nearby.  Not with the lack of trees offering cover, and the odds of the fire being caught by anyone traveling on the nearby road.

Blankets were set down in one of the rooms in the back, and after staking a claim on the warmest quilt in the house, Hana took up a spot near Grace, wished Sharky luck, and tried to sleep. That was the hardest part by far. Telling her body that it was okay to relax, and to close her eyes and ignore every small little sound, while repeating that pledge over and over.

Scraping together an hour or two of sleep was better than nothing, but it was adding up. She’d been sluggish before, and her stint on Nick’s couch should’ve been a major wake up call, but that didn’t shut her brain up. That didn’t make the tension settle out whenever a nearby twig was snapped.

So, she laid there. Forced her eyes to stay shut, and tightened her fingers in the blanket as the seconds ticked by.

When she’d been given a light shake to wake her up, she jolted. With bleary eyes she’d taken in her surroundings before flashing Sharky a thumbs up, and braced herself for the world outside of her mini cocoon.

Leaving that warmth sucked, but she adjusted fast. This was a better use of her time for now, letting her pour the nervous energy into something that kept her moving. Kept her thinking as she settled outside, and lit up a cigarette.

Time passed. Hana burned through one cigarette, then two, watching and waiting as the clouds drifted by overhead. Without the stars or the moon, she had nothing to track. Only kept her eyes out for any lights in the distance, hoping that if anyone was going to come by to clear this place out they’d have already done it.

Pacing around, she stuck close. Felt an actual shiver run through her as she crouched down low so she could get proper cover, and rubbed her hands together. Moving helped. Burned a little energy from the endless well her nerves tried to supply her with, and stored the rest just in case she actually needed it.

The grass swayed with the wind, drawing her eye as it moved, and she drew in an unsteady breath. Checking the watch she’d been passed, she swiped at the face of it with her thumb as the seconds counted up to sixty, then began all over again.

Tick, tick, tick.

Traveling in a circle, she idly noted the position of the hands before going back to the sky. Took another set of puffs off of her cigarette, waited, then looked back down at the watch when she’d finished counting the stars hanging up above her head.

Tapping at the face with her finger, she squinted at it closely and felt her eyes widen.

Ten past. Ten minutes past when she was supposed to get Grace, and at least ten minutes spent zoning out, registering nothing when a group could’ve been closing in on them.

Rubbing at her face, she gave the outside one last scan, and made her way back inside.

It didn’t take much to rouse Grace. Just a few words spoken close to her side – never a shake, or a touch – and Grace gave her a quick glance before getting up.

Trouble?

Hana shook her head at the unspoken question. Nope, none to speak of.

With that answered, Grace took her rifle, geared up after taking the offered watch, and disappeared through the doorway.

Knowing Grace was watching them now, the tension started to ebb away. Bled right out as Hana set her things to the side, and dragged the blanket with her, burrowing back down into her spot from before.

But now she was back to square one.

Blinking against the dark, she sighed. Flopped over, testing the position to see if it’d work, only to feel everything curl under her wrong. She rolled over, giving the blanket a harsh pull to re-wrap it around her, and huffed when it didn’t feel any more comfortable than before.

Rolling back over, she heard something move nearby. Lifting her head, she saw Sharky wind his arms tighter around himself, as his snoring tapered off. He didn’t stay still for long, however. It was a small tremor, but it ran through him as he laid there, the sheet he’d picked too thin to do much to help.

Scooting closer to him, she tugged out the edge of her blanket, and tossed it towards him.

He started when the heavier material hit. But after a second of moving around and blinking at her, he shucked the sheet off and scooted in so he could tuck the blanket around himself too.

“Hands still cold, Dep?” He’d half-mumbled the words, not awake enough to really jump up and go, but was responding to her at the moment.

Hana made a face, feeling her fingertips tingle until Sharky reached over and tucked one hand against his side. His hoodie had ridden up enough for her to touch his skin directly, and it was so damn warm she sighed in relief instantly.

He flinched at the contact, though. “Yeah, still cold.”

“Not like Montana’s decided to get any warmer,” she shot, but kept her voice low.

His small smile grew, and he wiggled closer so her arm wasn’t hanging in the air between them. That put him close enough now to have it tucked along his side, covered by both his hoodie and the extra blanket she’d tossed over him.

Maybe a foot was between them at best, but she wasn’t checking. Or really bothered by it either. Just amused at how they’d gone from sleeping within the general vicinity of each other to practically sharing the same space. A few added inches would turn her pillow into their pillow, and even now his cheek was practically resting on it.

And with her hand still up his shirt, at that. He’d initiated the contact, not bothered in the slightest by any of it, and she almost wanted to laugh.  

Seriously, is he just that damn-

No.

No, she didn’t need any of her thoughts going in that direction right now. That wasn’t going to help in the slightest.

So, she focused on him instead. Watched Sharky’s face as she traced her fingers along his side, watching his nose twitch as he breathed. Not quite snoring like he’d done before, but breathing deep. Slow, and steady with each one, even as her hand slid to his lower back.

That got a hum out of him. The sound pleasant in a way that made her face flush, and she quickly shifted her hand back into place.

The movement made his brows furrow, however, and he stretched. “Mmm, how you doing now?”

Pinching her lips shut, Hana swallowed the lump that had found its way to her throat.

He cracked open his eyes to look at her, and she considered taking her hand back, but couldn’t do it. Not when he really was every bit as warm as she wished she was.

“Better,” she said, half-rasping at him. “Easy to say when I’ve got my own portable space heater next to me, though.”

Sharky tapped a finger against his forehead. “See? I know my shit. Also remembered you saying your hands get cold easy, so…”

Chewing on her lip, she gave him a shy smile. “Still got one free, you know.”

“Got what free?”

“A hand.” Bringing her other arm out from under her pillow, she gave him a small wave. “Missing one there, bud.”

“Aw, shit,” he said, concern crossing him. “Let me get right on that.”

Taking her other hand in his, he held it close to his chest. Close enough for her to splay her fingers out over it if she wanted to. But when his thumb brushed the back of her hand, she kept it in his. Focused on the soft, smooth strokes moving back and forth over her skin as he held her, his grip relaxed around it.

“Don’t wanna fail you now. Leaving you all cold and bothered like that? Make me one shitty-ass compadre if I did.”

Her face was warm when she turned it into her pillow. Almost hopelessly so as she peered over at him, catching the pout he was wearing. It was ridiculous and wonderful, and only he’d find a way to pull it off.

“Shark, I don’t think you could be shitty if you tried.”

Over his hoodie, she didn’t feel much, but she imagined she’d feel his heartbeat if he wasn’t wearing it. Beating steady under her fingertips, and comforting in its own right. The whole of him even warmer than he already was this close to her, and she wanted to wrap herself up in every inch of it.

Her eyelids started to droop, closing more with each blink, and she turned her hand so she could try to twine her fingers with his.

They weren’t aligned right, but she felt him shift too. Moving to give her just enough space to wind them together, and hold on tight.

[moonlightrichie]

Why Did the Cute Guy Cross the Road?

A repost of my Reddie meet-cute. Wanted to post it properly on here.

Summary: 

Richie is really out there falling in love with any cute guy who smiles at him, even when said cute guy is just crossing the street.

Word Count: 4722 Pairing: Reddie

READ ON AO3 HERE

Richie Tozier was 25 years old. He had a steady job at the radio station, cracking funny (anyone else would say bad) jokes, playing music, doing his voices, getting listened to by thousands every day. He lived in his own apartment, had his own car and cooked his own food. He had great friends. He would go out drinking with Ben, Bill and Stan every Friday, eat lunch with Beverly every Wednesday, and spend time with the four of them together every Sunday. They would watch movies, go bowling, go on drives, picnics, whatever they felt like doing that day. It was nice to have the routine. 

In a way you could say he had his shit together, living his best life, doing pretty well. He was making money, being social, eating semi-healthy, and even sometimes working out when he had the time (he couldn’t believe it either). And in a way it was also true. There were parts of his life he really had going for himself. His friends would agree on this.

There was only one thing Richie did not have going for himself. When it came to his love life, all of his friends would tell you he was a mess. At least three times a month, he would call the four of them in their group chat and tell them he had met the love of his life. A girl he locked eyes with at the supermarket, a guy who had smiled at him on the train, a girl who had let him cut in line at Starbucks, all people Richie had claimed to be in love with. Then Richie would talk about them non-stop for the next three days before inevitably forgetting them, and repeat. It was getting ridiculous.

Richie knew himself that his love life was a mess. He just didn’t want to admit it. All his friends were in stable relationships and were planning their futures. Beverly had just moved in with Ben, Bill and Audra were engaged, and Stan and Patty were getting a dog together. All Richie had was a goldfish named Deborah. He had decorated her fish bowl with all sorts of nice things. There was a tiny house with a blue seashell ceiling, some cute seaweed in Deb’s little fish garden, white sand, three pink rocks. He was pretty proud of it. He wanted to buy a big aquarium at some point with salt-water fish, he thought they were prettier, no offense to Deb.

He was still waiting for the perfect person to meet, and just knowing, really knowing, that they were the one. Sure, he always told his friends that he was certain he had met the love of his life, even tricking himself into believing it sometimes, but deep inside he knew that no, of course not. Eye contact wasn’t enough to know if someone was the right person for him, and he wasn’t stupid enough to actually think that either, no matter what his friends thought.

Richie decided then, as he was driving on his way home from work, that he wasn’t going to tell his friends that he had met his soulmate until he was absolutely sure.

The sun was in its final moments before setting, lighting up the world around him in golden tones. It was undeniably beautiful, and his stupid lovesick brain couldn’t help but think how perfect it would be to meet someone with the sun looking like that. It seemed like he couldn’t ever stop imagining romantic scenarios.

A soft tune was playing on the radio, something he hadn’t heard before. The melody really fitted with the sun’s warm embrace. Sunlight reflected in the windows of the buildings around him, enveloping him like a blanket, and he smiled.

So what if he was single. He was happy, content with how his life was, and damn it if he wasn’t going to enjoy it. The love of his life would come into his life when the time was right.

With that thought swirling around in his head and the sun shining into his eyes, he almost didn’t see the man waiting to cross the street. He was looking right at Richie’s car, obviously waiting to see if he would stop for him. Richie slowed down; barely managing to stop in front of the crossing, noticing the man was probably around his age. The man locked eyes with him, tan skin glowing in the sun, soft blonde locks moving with the wind, and Richie was entirely mesmerized.

Angel. That was the only word coming to mind as the glow from the sun surrounded the man’s head like a halo, turning his blonde hair golden. And then the man smiled, cheeks round, freckles dusted across his nose. Finally regaining control over his facial muscles, Richie managed a smile in return. He grabbed his sunglasses and moved them up into his curls, squinting at the man before putting both his hands back on the wheel.

With sparkling eyes and pink lips quirked upwards, the man nodded in gratitude, and Richie grinned wider, showing his teeth. The man’s gaze drifted off as he started crossing the road, and Richie was in love.

In an instant, everything was in slow motion. The man took a step, a slight bounce to it, arms swinging faintly by his sides. The sun disappeared behind him as he strode in front of it, blocking the light and creating a silhouette comparable to one of a Greek god. His pink denim jacket fit perfectly around his shoulders, the color of it making his tanned skin glow. As the sun once again emerged behind his head, the blonde waves looked platinum in the brightness.  

The man was about halfway across the road when he turned his head to meet Richie’s eyes once more, eyes gleaming cheekily, almost as if he knew he had Richie’s full attention. His cheeks were a rosy color, smile still ghosting over his lips, and Richie couldn’t do anything but stare.

He knew he probably looked ridiculous, being so obvious with his staring, glasses in his chaotic hair, squinting through the sunlight.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed when the man took his last step over the road. He took a last glance at Richie, smiling shyly. Richie returned the smile; more reserved this time, realizing with a broken heart that this was when the two of them parted ways. It felt like a mutual conversation had passed between their eyes, both of them feeling the sparks. Or maybe it was wishful thinking, and Richie was being silly again. The man raised his hand then, giving a small wave, a gloomy goodbye. Richie nodded his head, waving back.

The man winked at him before turning and starting to walk away. Wanting to look at him for as long as he could, Richie kept his eyes locked on the man. He had a regal presence in his steps, moving his hips in light washed denim jeans. Obviously showing off, he ran a hand through his hair, sunlight hitting it just right. He definitely knew he had Richie’s attention.

A blaring horn rang through the air, and Richie jumped out of his staring, the sound not making any sense in his trance-like state. He looked in the rear view mirror, seeing a car behind him, an older woman glaring in the front seat. Heat pooling in his cheeks, he raised his arm as an apology. Then he quickly threw a glance towards the man. He had turned back around at the sound, and it looked like he was laughing. Richie smiled sheepishly in return, shrugging his shoulders in an ‘oops’-motion, not letting himself be too embarrassed about it.

The woman behind him hit the horn a second time, and Richie finally managed to react. Pushing the gas pedal sadly, he got the car driving.

The man disappeared when Richie drove around a corner not long after.

Two day went by, and Richie could not for the life of him stop thinking about the beautiful man he had seen. Kind of ironic how just seconds before the two of them had locked eyes, he had promised himself to not tell his friends about the new love of his life until he was absolutely certain it was real.

He had picked up his phone more times than he could count, finger hovering over the call-button on the group chat before sulkily deciding not to. With tingling fingers and bouncing legs, he had sat through lunch with Beverly, biting his bottom lip several times to stop himself from spilling everything. He had gotten questionable glances from her all throughout the meal, obviously not being as discreet as he had hoped. She hadn’t asked about it.

On Friday night, now four days since he’d seen the beautiful man, he had gone out with Ben, Bill and Stan to their favorite bar, just like they always did. He had to restrain himself from drinking too much, knowing he would burst if he passed a certain point of intoxication. They had all been looking at each other in confusion when he kept zoning out, fingers tapping unsteady rhythms on his pint glass.

Then Sunday came, and all five of them together with Patty and Audra decided to have a barbeque in the summer sun. They decided to have it at Stan and Patty’s house, as they were the only ones with a back yard. Six days had passed since Richie had fallen in love with the man crossing the street, and he was still very much infatuated. Usually his small stupid crushes on strangers only lasted about three days, but this time he couldn’t stop thinking about the guy.

He knew he was close to cracking, and having to spend the day with all of his friends and their lovers, he just figured he wouldn’t last even for an hour.

They were all eating hamburgers and drinking red wine around Stan and Patty’s garden table when Richie finally cracked. Ben was telling a story about his day at work, and everyone was laughing, and so was Richie, but he didn’t really follow.

“And then he takes out a box from the fridge and says: ‘I’m so tired of people leaving their leftovers to rot in our fridge’ and something about having seen it lay there for a month. And that’s when I recognize it as my box of strawberries that I had brought with me a month ago and forgotten about”, Ben laughed.

“No way”, Stan said.

“And I’m just, like, holy shit, but instead I just nod my head and say: ‘I know, right? I can’t believe someone would do that’, and then he throws the entire box in the trash. And sure, I don’t want the strawberries, but the box was mine from home, so as soon as he walks away, I go over to the trash to pick it up.”

“I feel like I know where this is going”, Audra laughed.

“And just as I’m holding the box, he actually comes back around the corner with a co-worker.”

“Oh no”, Patty said, putting her hands in front of her face.

“And he looks at me, and down on the box I just picked up from the trash, and I say ‘I knew I recognized that box’, and he just laughs and shakes his head, but seriously I thought I was going to die from embarrassement.”

Everyone continued laughing around the table, and Richie laughed with them, deciding now was the time. 

“Uhm.” He cleared his throat. “Guys,” he said, getting their attention. “I have to tell you something I’ve been dying to say for almost a week now.”

Beverly raised her eyebrows over her wine glass. “Good news, I’m hoping?”

“Totally.”

“So what is it?”

“Okay, so six days ago.” He paused for suspense, because he liked to be dramatic like that. “I met…” He held up a finger. “… The love of my life.”

Beverly, Stan and Bill all groaned at the same time.

Audra gasped. “Wow, Richie, that’s so great!”

“I know, thank you.” Richie smiled at her.

“No, he does this all the time”, Stan sighed.

“Honestly surprised he hasn’t mentioned it until now”, Beverly said.

“Yeah, I’m impressed, Ruh-Richie”, Bill added.

“Okay, first of all, rude.” Richie leaned back in his chair, pretending to glare at his friends. “Second of all, I haven’t even told you about him yet.”

They all sighed fondly at him.

“Okay, well, did you at least get his name this time?” Stan asked.

Richie stopped for a second, considering his options. “Uhm, yes.” Lying was probably a mistake.

“What’s his name then?”

As soon as the question was out of Stan’s mouth, every single boy-name in existence disappeared from Richie’s brain. He couldn’t even remember his own name in that moment. For some reason the only word coming to mind was ‘pencil’. Yup, definitely a mistake.

“Uhm,” he fumbled. “Edmund?”

Stan narrowed his eyes. “Why did you say it like a question?”

“Uhm…”

“His name is not Edmund.”

“Hey, his name could totally be Edmund.”

“Oh, my God”, Beverly rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “So you don’t know his name, but how did you meet then?”

“Okay, so we didn’t technically meet, but…”

“No, stop”, Stan interrupted. “This is going to be one of those ‘I locked eyes with a cute guy while grocery shopping, and now I’m in love with him’ things. And Richie, I know you’re a hopeless romantic and believe in all that ‘love at first sight’-stuff, but you do realize love doesn’t actually work that way, right?”

Patty grabbed Stan’s hand. “Babe, don’t be so harsh”, she said softly.

“No, he needs to hear this”, Stan replied, but kept a hold on her hand. “Richie, you know we’re totally rooting for you to find someone, and will support you one hundred percent when you do. But just because you see someone cute and they smile at you, that doesn’t mean they’re the love of your life. You need to at least talk to them before you decide.”

Richie exhaled tiredly, prepared for a negative response, but definitely not for a lecture. “Listen, Stan, I know that, okay?” He opened his mouth and closed it again, feeling pretty dumb, not really knowing what to say. “I just had a different feeling in my stomach this time. I know I’ve told you guys I’ve met my soulmate more times than I can count, but I’m not stupid. Of course I know that I don’t actually love them, but something was special this time, I could feel it.”

“Why don’t you tell us about him?” Patty said, smiling warmly.

Richie looked over at Stan with raised eyebrows, waiting for approval to continue. Stan sighed, but then his lips stretched out in a smile. “Tell us, Richie.”

Instantly, Richie’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “Of course, Stan the man, your wish is my command.”

“It’s not really a wish…”

“It was a beautiful Monday evening”, Richie interrupted loudly, “and I was driving on my way home from work, and I get to a crossing. And there stands the fucking most beautiful man I have ever seen, even more beautiful than you, Stan the Man,” Richie winked at him, “and he looks like this Greek god, like, absolutely stunning. And he smiles at me in gratitude for stopping, and I swear to Jesus, he was swinging his hips knowing he had my attention, and I am so in love with him.” Richie was waving his arms around while rambling. “Fucking soulmate, I swear. I can’t stop thinking about him.” He fell back into his chair.

A moment of silence passed through the group.

“Seriously, why duh-didn’t you talk tuh-to him?” Bill asked. “If you’re suh-so sure he was your s-soulmate?”

Richie shrugged. “Well, I didn’t want to seem like a creep, and the old lady in the car behind me kept pressing her horn to get me to continue driving, I don’t know, I’m stupid, okay?”

“Yeah, you are kind of stupid”, Beverly said. “But if it’s been six days, don’t think I didn’t notice this is the longest one of your crushes has lasted, and you’re still thinking about him, I feel like that has to mean something, no?” She looked around the table for confirmation. Audra, Patty and Ben were all nodding. “And lets all just ignore the fact that you’re basing all of this on looks, because that would make you seem kind of shallow.” She winked at him. He flipped her off.

“Yeah, you should have talked to him”, Ben said.

Richie sighed. “I know. Every time I’ve passed that same crossing, I’ve hoped to see him again, but unfortunately…” he drifted off, an unsure expression on his face.

“Well, if you do ever see him, promise me you’ll talk to him, no matter the situation you’re in, no matter how awkward it would be, just promise me.” Beverly held out her right pinky, a challenging yet hopeful look in her eyes.

Richie looked around the table. They were all smiling and nodding at him. “I promise”, he said and locked their pinkies together.

The next day came and it was Monday once again. Exactly one week had now passed.

As Richie was driving on his way home from work, he tried to not hope too much that the man would be at the same crossing. With the rain pouring down around him, the wipers going crazy on the car’s windshields, there were barely any people out walking. He didn’t blame them. If he as much as stepped out of his car, he knew he’d end up soaked in seconds.

People were all probably cuddled up with their significant others on the couch, watching movies, and Richie would kill to be doing the same. Just need to get that significant other first.

At this point, Richie was starting to get upset with himself for not being able to find someone. Everything else in his life was pretty great, and exactly how he wanted it to be. Now all he wanted was someone to share it with.

He turned a corner, and he could see the crossing in the far distance. A hope was building in his chest, massive and stupidly unnecessary. There were a few people that could be seen walking around, some even without umbrellas. Some of them looked like they couldn’t care less about the rain while others were running in panic to take shelter.  

The crossing was coming up next, and there was someone walking towards it. This person was the only chance to be the man Richie was hoping to see, and he made the decision to drive slower so they’d make it there at the same time. As he got closer, he could see it was a man, and his heart started pounding just a little bit faster. The man lifted his umbrella and looked over at Richie just as he pulled to a stop in front of the crossing.

It’s not him.

Richie tried to swallow down his disappointment, but it was hard to ignore the feeling of his heart falling to the pit of his stomach. He watched the man walk over the crossing, heaviness in his chest.

The street was empty except for his car, and he let himself drop his head to the steering wheel, closing his eyes. Fuck this. He’d missed his chance. It was time to let it go. He sighed loudly, the sound of the rain hitting the roof echoing through the vehicle. The weather certainly matched the sadness he was feeling. It was almost like the sky was crying for him.

He raised his head, his sight of the world blurred by the water on his windows, and pressed the gas carefully, ready to get home and under the covers in his bed. Movement in the corner of his vision caused him to stop abruptly. Someone was just about to cross the road, but had halted just before stepping off the sidewalk as he’d started driving. Eyes met his, and Richie’s heart skipped a beat.

It’s him. Holy shit, it’s him.

The man was holding a rainbow umbrella, the bottom of his jeans wet from the rain. Richie wasn’t sure the man could even see into his car, but a flicker of recognition seemed to flash over the man’s eyes. He then raised his available arm and gave a little wave, a small smile playing on his lips. Richie was in absolute awe.

It’s now or never.

Richie had not prepared for what to do if he actually saw the man again, and a moment of complete panic coursed through his veins. He raised his hand to wave back, smiling widely. Seeing that he had the man’s attention, he needed to get his message across before he looked away and started walking. His wave instantly turned into a point directed at the man. He then proceeded to frantically try to sign for the man to cross the road and wait for him, flailing both of his arms. He mouthed please wait as clearly as he could all the while the man cocked his head to the side, a confused smile on his lips.

Richie then pointed to the bus stop just a small distance away, and the man seemed to understand. He nodded carefully, a small blush seeming to spread over his face. After he had crossed the road, Richie drove over to the bus stop, constantly checking to make sure the man wasn’t walking away.

He wasn’t.

Hopefully no buses were coming anytime soon.

Richie stopped the car, looking in the rearview mirror, seeing the man approaching him. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out.

The rain soaked through his bomber jacket in seconds.

“You could’ve just opened your car window, you know?”

Richie looked up as the man stopped in front of him. He let out a small laugh. “It was a spontaneous decision, I wasn’t really thinking.”

The man smiled widely. ”You’re the man who stopped for me last week, right?”

Richie nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

“Kind of a cool coincidence that you stop for me at the exact same crossing two Mondays in a row at the exact same time.”

Richie put a hand through his wet hair, the rain fogging up his glasses. “Yeah, I’m on my way home from work.”

The man seemed to remember it was raining, and Richie was standing in the middle of the pour. “Oh shit, hey, get under here.” He waved Richie over, lifting his umbrella to fit him underneath. Richie took off his glasses to dry them quickly before putting them back on. “What do you do for work?”

Richie was freaking out about how good this was going. Being so close to the man made it easy to really get a good look at him. Even without the sun shining, his tan skin still seemed to have a glow to it. With shining eyes and a smile so blinding they didn’t even need the sun, he was looking up at Richie, and Richie sincerely thought he was dreaming. Angel.

“I work at the local radio station”, he replied. “Just cracking jokes and playing music mostly.”

“Oh! That’s so cool. Maybe I’ve heard you on air? I don’t know. I don’t really listen to much radio to be honest, sorry.” The man smiled sheepishly.

Richie laughed. “That’s fine, didn’t expect you to.”

They looked at each other for a few moments, both of them smiling softly.

“What about you?” Richie asked.

“What about me?”

“Are you also on your way home from work?”

“No, I uh…” He blushed and looked away briefly. “I recently started taking piano lessons on Mondays, so I’m on my way home now. I actually considered just staying home today because of the rain, but my roommate Mike forced me to go.” He chuckled to himself. “He knows I don’t really care about the rain, but rather used it as an excuse to not go.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?”

The man shrugged. “I’m not very good yet, and I also forgot to practice the scales I was told to learn for this lesson.”

Richie made a quick decision. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “Are you asking me out?”

“I really tried not being too obvious.” Richie bumped the man’s shoulder with his own.

They both laughed lightly. The rain was still pouring down around them, but the sun had just started to peak through the clouds, filling the town with a soft light. Richie was certain that had to mean something.

“I mean, sure”, the man said softly. “But I’m still very terrible at it, just warning you.”

“I don’t mind.”

The man looked at Richie as if he was studying him. “This was kind of a weird way to meet someone.” He was shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“I guess so”, Richie said. “But I thought you were really cute the first time I saw you, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I felt like we had a mutual moment, so when I saw you again, I knew I had to talk to you.”

The man just stared at him, and Richie started freaking out about revealing too much and probably coming off as a creep.

“I uhm- I can be very forward and honest, sorry if that came out the wrong way”, he backtracked. If he had managed to mess this up, he was seriously going to flush himself down the toilet to float in the sewer with his departed goldfishes.

The man just smiled. “No, I like that you know what you want. And I thought you were really cute too”, he winked, “squinting through the sunlight, being tooted at by the car behind you.”

Richie felt heat pooling in his cheeks immediately. He laughed awkwardly. “You noticed that, huh?”

The man laughed. “I noticed.”

“It makes a funny story though. Might have to tell it on my radio show.”

“I guess I’ll have to start listening to it then.”

“Oh, definitely.”

Silence settled over them, both looking at the other shyly.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” the man asked. “I know a really great coffee place.”

Richie broke into a big grin, knowing his semi-crooked teeth were showing, but he didn’t care about that one single bit. “Sounds great.”

The man was beaming back at him just as big. He reached into his coat, pulling his phone out and giving it to Richie. “Just put in your number, and I’ll text you.” 

As he put his digits into the phone, he checked four times to make sure he had written the right numbers. He considered saving the name under something lame, but decided to just write ‘Richie’ with a heart-eyes emoji.

“There you go.” Their hands brushed when he handed the phone back over, and all of his body focused on that spot, unable to feel anything other than the tingles in his fingers.

The man looked down on his phone, smiling widely. “Well, Richie, I’ll text you as soon as I’m inside and safe from the rain.”

“I sure hope so.”

Another beat of silence.

“I should probably head home, but I’m really happy I met you”, the man smiled softly.

“Me too”, Richie said. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Definitely.”

They looked at each other, and then the man pushed up on his toes, kissing Richie’s cheek sweetly. “Bye.” 

“Bye.”

He started walking backwards, and soon after, Richie could feel the rain once again envelop him as the umbrella disappeared from over him. They smiled widely at each other. Then the man turned and started walking away for real.

Richie was about to get into his car when he remembered something

“Wait! I never got your name!” he yelled.

The man turned around, smiling widely. A rainbow could be seen in the distance behind him. “You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie?” Richie was ready to burst. “Short for Edmund?”

“No!” The man gaped. “Eddie, short for Edward! Definitely not Edmund.”

Richie laughed out loud, eyes twinkling with drops of rain dripping from his hair. “Hey, your name could totally be Edmund.”

[shireness-says]

Swan’s Seven (1/?)

Summary: After two years behind bars, Emma's out, and she's got a plan in mind. Now to put together the perfect team... Let's stage an art heist. (A CS Ocean’s 8 AU) 1.9K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3. 

~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for joining me for another MC! It’s going to be a fun one. Turns out, I hate posting schedules when I’m the one being scheduled, so these will be up when they’re up. Hang in there.

Thanks to my wonderful beta, @snidgetsafan. Love ya bunches, babe.

Tagging: @optomisticgirl, @spartanguard, @profdanglaisstuff, @captainsjedi, @thisonesatellite, @thejollyroger-writer, @let-it-raines, @teamhook, @kmomof4, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes, @winterbaby89. Shoot me a message if you want to be added/taken off the list.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

It feels odd, changing back into regular clothes after two years in a prison jumpsuit. Not bad, obviously - orange was never really Emma’s color anyways —  just… odd. The black leather dress still fits like a glove, she’s pleased to note, and her arms are looking better than ever. That little tidbit is almost enough to keep Emma from slipping her treasured red leather jacket over the top —  almost. A girl’s got to have her armor and a signature piece, after all. 

“You gonna behave yourself, Ms. Swan?” the guard posted at the release desk asks as she hands over the last of the possessions Emma was arrested with - a pitifully small handbag. Emma resolves to burn it as soon as possible —  less for the bad memories, more because it barely holds two cards and a hundred dollars cash. 

Not that she’s been blessed with such a generous sum. “Don’t I always, Marcie,” she chuckles darkly. “Besides, how much trouble can I get into with $32.17?”

$3.17 of it is in change. She’ll be lucky if she can get a cab to a train station with that kind of money.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Marcie grumbles. She looks like she’s suppressing a smile, though; she always was one of the guards Emma got along with. “Get out of here, and don’t let me see you next year.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The sunlight feels different, too, as Emma walks out the front doors and down the path to the parking lot. It’s not that she hasn’t been outside in two years; even in New York, they get time in the prison yard, so that’s obviously not the case. But knowing that she can enjoy the sunlight in longer than one-hour spurts is a different thing altogether, and wholly intoxicating.

She’s so busy soaking in the sunshine and her new-found freedom that it takes Emma a moment to notice the figure waiting where the fence gives way to cars and asphalt: lean, dark haired, dressed to kill. Regina.

“Hot date?” the other woman drawls, not even bothering to look up from where a perfectly manicured thumbnail navigates her phone. Emma wouldn’t expect anything less from her partner in crime. Emma and Regina met six years ago while both attempting to con the same mark, and had been criminally inseparable ever since (and she’s still particularly proud of the fake charity cons they used to run on wealthy, pervy men, happy to toss a few thousand dollars their way without checking their credentials too closely in hopes of getting into Regina’s pants). In all that time, Emma’s never seen her look anything but immaculately put together in perfectly tailored garments, expertly paired with that air of casual boredom she’s perfected. Beneath the cold exterior, Emma knows, lies a terrifying loyalty, however. It’s probably not a coincidence that that fucker Neal Cassidy wound up arrested mere months after setting up Emma to take the fall for his crimes, still landing her an accessory conviction after his stupid watches were found in her trunk despite the police’s inability to put her at scene of the crime —  and indeed, surveillance video proved she hadn’t been the one breaking into cases. But Emma went to prison, and Regina… well, Emma wouldn’t be surprised if Regina got a little payback, even if she’d never admit to it. 

“I don’t know, depends on who’s at the insurance convention you’re attending,” Emma shoots back. The perfectly matched trousers, blazer, and vest certainly suggest business more than a casual afternoon; an uninformed bystander would certainly be forgiven for thinking Regina was Emma’s lawyer instead of a fellow conwoman.

Despite the teasing introductions, Emma still doesn’t hesitate to wrap her friend into a tight hug. “Missed you, Reg,” she whispers.

“Me too,” is the barely audible response, before Regina pulls back to briskly brush at her precisely creased pants. “That’s enough of that. I thought prison wasn’t supposed to make you go soft, E, control yourself. I’ll still give you a lift into the city, if you want.”

“I’m counting on a lot more than that,” Emma comments as they climb into the black Volvo — nice, but not flashy, hovering just below the radar. Just the way they both like it. Emma idly wonders who stole it. “I’m gonna need a place to crash.”

Regina shoots her a sideways glance, full of skepticism. Regina Mills doesn’t do confusion. “Not running off to see brother dearest and whatever disgusting fairy tale he’s living in backwoods Maine?”

“Not yet.”

Regina hums in sudden understanding. “Ah. You’ve got a job in mind.”

“And I don’t want him involved,” Emma finishes. 

“What’s the job?”

“I’ll tell you when we get back to your place,” Emma promises. “You’ll like it, though, it’ll be a fun one. And besides, it’s a favor for an old friend.”

Most of the rest of the 90 minute drive into the city passes in silence —  not that Emma minds. It gives her a chance to run over the plan in her head again before she has to tell Regina. Still, they’re pulling up in front of the warehouse space that always manages to look just this side of abandoned. Regina had the business savvy at some point to buy up the building with some of the money she’d accumulated over the years, and last Emma heard, it was a thriving nightclub. Poison Apple. Terrible name, in Emma’s opinion, but she’s not the one running the place. 

The inside is the same as always, full of exposed metal beams and carefully cultivated rust. Emma knows that at night, when this place is packed with revelers, the lights (what few of them exist) illuminate in bronze and gold shades, really encouraging the steampunk fairytale feeling in here. The unusual wishing well on one side of the room helps with that too, as does the apple tree growing under the grimy window panels that make up the slant of the roof. Emma finds those touches just as ridiculous as the name, but you can’t deny that there’s a theme going. And anyways, they can make good money pulling change out of the wishing well after the end of the weekend. 

The apartment upstairs is much the same, minus the ridiculous fairytale decor. It’s been shined up, however, in a way that the club hasn’t been. Regina’s taste has always tended towards the luxurious and ornate, in a way that should be anachronistic against the metal and brick, but isn’t. The scrolled and gilded furniture is more comfortable than the minimalistic metal and leather Emma would have expected of an industrial space anyways, so Emma doesn’t have much space to pass any judgement.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs,” Regina says, tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter. Dark wood, white granite. Nice. “Make yourself at home.”

“What, with all my baggage?” Emma snorts.

“Fine, don’t then,” Regina snipes back, opening the fridge to toss Emma a beer. “Don’t come whining to me later about how I’m not being hospitable or some shit.”

“I’ve got a drink, what else do I need?” Emma collapses onto the couch. It feels good to finally toe her heels off, even if she can’t kick them across the room with a polished wood coffee table in the way that definitely cost more than the $32.17 in her wallet. God, what was the Emma of two years ago thinking with these torture devices?

Oh. Yeah. Horribly in love, planning to maybe use the heels to coax her date into a wild night of sex. That’d explain it. 

“Oh, well, now that you’re here, what about that explanation? You said you had a plan in mind for some job?” Regina, of course, has somehow managed to conjure up a glass of wine for herself. Beer is for the peasants or something.

“The job of the century,” Emma promises.

“Yes, that’s great. The details?” Nothing is more entertaining than an impatient, pissed off Regina. It’s probably a miracle they haven’t killed each other yet. 

Emma savors the moment for one more sip of her beer before finally spilling. “Zelena West. You know her?”

“Personally? No,” Regina snorts. “But Zelena West, pharmaceutical titan and socialite? Yes, Emma, I know of her. You’re the one who’s been in prison, not me.”

Emma ignores the jab. “You’re aware about her art collecting, then? The gallery she runs for the public?”

“Again, I haven’t been living under a rock, E.”

“And you know about the upcoming collaboration between the West Collection and the  Big Apple Ballet? Big exhibit in BAB’s gallery about the intersection of dance and art?”

“Yes…” Regina trails off as the details finally sink in. “You’re planning an art heist.”

“Bingo.”

“A classic, certainly. Seems a bit of a risk, though, especially since you’re fresh out of prison. Why would you want to go after such a big fish right away?”

“Like I said, it’s a favor for an old friend.” She takes another swig of her beer. “It’ll be fun, besides. And it’ll work.”

“Yes, well, that’s left to be seen,” Regina grumbles. “Tell me everything, start to finish. Every motive, every step, every player, or so help me god, Emma, I won’t lift a finger to help you with this. I don’t intend to be caught attempting a fool’s gambit.”

So she does. Emma’s had a lot of time to think through this, and has run it in her head countless times. She knows every inch of this plan inside and out —  and by the time she’s done speaking, Regina does too. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… but I think it might work.” The wine has long since been consumed in the course of their conversation, but Regina sounds like she needs another glass after being conned into that admittance. “You’ll need a crew though. This isn’t something we can pull off on our own, I can tell you that now.”

“Oh, I know that,” Emma readily agrees. She’d been prepared for this. “We’re definitely going to need a xerox, a code wrangler, and a can opener. Maybe a fairy fingers, for good measure.”

“Never know when you’re going to need a good fairy,” Regina agrees. “You’re going to need a good garage sale, too.”

“For sure. Someone who’s already tapped into that world.”

“So five, plus you and I… you really think we can pull this off with seven players?”

“I really do.”

“I’ll put out feelers tomorrow, start collecting resumes.” Regina stands, carefully straightening out her pants. “It’s good to have you back in the game, Emma. I was worried that once you got out, you’d run off to live some boring Rockwell life with your brother.”

“Not me. Once a con, always a con,” Emma toasts before finishing off her beer. 

And that’s the truth of it, really —  this is in her blood. The one thing Emma Swan is better at than anything is conning people out of their money. It brought her a family, and a purpose, and a challenge to face every morning. She’s not sure she can imagine any other kind of life, or that she’d want to. Day after day crammed into a cubicle just isn’t for her. 

“Let’s go stage an art heist,” it’s easy to declare, easier than riding a bike, almost easier than breathing.

Emma Swan is back in the game.

[strayneoculturekids]

Adoration - Renjun x Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you had always drawn on your arm and for just as long, you had always remembered finding a drawing that you didn’t remember doing, often they were just as good as your usual ones, if not, better.

Soulmate AU, Strangers to Lovers AU, Highschool AU

Genre: fluff, crack (?)

Word Count: 1900

You groggily woke up, yawning loudly and stretching your arms, pulling one back to rub your eye afterward. Catching a glimpse of your arm, you saw watercolour painted all over the floral drawing you had done in black pen, colouring it a beautiful array of not too bright pigments, complimenting your skin tone and the ink pen well. You would be proud of it, however, you truly don’t remember colouring it in. Looking over to your art desk, you saw trays of your watercolour and gouache spread across it.

“Oh, I guess it must have been me then. Maybe I really should get this whole memory thing checked out” you mumbled to yourself, slowly putting your sheets to the side and stepping out of the blissful warmth that was your bed into the cold hell that was the winter morning

Wanting to get dressed as quickly as possible so you didn’t end up freezing to death, you quickly pulled out a pair of jeans from your closet, a long sleeve shirt, and a warm sweater, also grabbing the fluffy pair of socks you had thrown into the corner of your room before going to bed last night.

Your phone suddenly buzzed, checking it, you saw a text message from your best friend.

[The only Snake I accept]: “Oi bruh, where tf are you, we’re all waiting at the mall for you”

“SHIT” You yelled, checking the time, seeing that you were meant to meet your friends 15 minutes ago

[You]: Yeah sorry, I’m almost there!

You were not almost there.

Rushing out of your room, you said a quick goodbye to your parents and sprinted out of the house, jumping into your family car and starting up the engine. Once you had actually started driving and your adrenaline rush was over, you realized how godamn ice cold it was. You looked out the side window, realizing it was covered in frost.

“Shit. That’s illegal.” You mumbled to yourself again, winding the window down and straight back up again to get rid of the fog and frost that had made its way onto there.

A couple of minutes later and you had a call from your friend. You cursed yourself and answered the call, putting it on speaker so you could talk without being distracted.

“If you’re not almost here, don’t tell us you’re almost here!”

“Yea, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m a wreck, I know” you said, hoping she wouldn’t yell at you too much

“Just hurry up, it’s freezing, we need to start walking”

“I’m sorry! Love you, bye” you said quickly, hanging up before she could say anything back

Soon enough, you had made it to the mall. It was still reasonably early so it didn’t take long to find parking. 

“Oh my God! There you are!” your friend called from across the parking lot “Hurry your ass up, the others are waiting”

You quickly ran to catch up with her, finally entering the heavenly warmth of the mall.

“Cool drawing by the way,” She said, motioning slightly to your arm

“Oh, thanks!”

“The colours are really nice”

“Oh yeah...thing is, I don’t remember doing that part” You mutter, rubbing the back of your neck, still confused by your own actions, even though this had been going on for as long as you had been drawing on yourself

“Again? I’m telling you, it’s your soulmate. You can’t just be forgetting stuff like that out of nowhere”

“No way! I’m not old enough for my soulmate sign to show up yet, and besides, the drawing style is always similar to mine.”

“If you say so,” She said back, unconvinced of literally everything you had just said

“Oh come on, you know that soulmate signs are always gene connected, my family always has something to do with telepathy!”

“Sure, sure”

After about another minute of walking, you met up with the rest of your friends. They all collectively groaned once they saw you and slapped you on the back. You smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck again and giving them small apologies. They all rolled their eyes jokingly in return and told you that you were paying for lunch because of it. You sighed but accepted your inevitable yet horrible fate.

The day was spent with you and your friends goofing around and them emptying your wallet with expensive food as payback for you being late. One by one, they all noticed the array of elegant flowers and vibrant colours adorning your arm, winding up it gracefully. You told them one by one what happened with your memory and they all looked at you, repeating the same thing one after the other; telling you that it was your soulmate and not just your shit memory. You dismissed all of them, telling them it was ridiculous.

The end of the day came around and you all said your goodbyes. You were walking back home, admiring the snow-covered trees and the soft snowflakes falling down but despising the cold and inwardly regretting not putting on more layers than you had. 

Just as you were about to dig your hands into your basically non-existent jean pockets, you caught a glimpse of the back of one of them, seeing that it had writing on it. You put it up to your face; ‘Hey’ is all it read. You looked at it, uncertain about what to feel. You shrugged it off, figuring one of your friends probably drew it on you while your attention was elsewhere.

The next morning came around and you once again had to reluctantly climb out of your warm bed, this time though, it was for school, making everything all the more worse. Sighing, you let the cold hit you like a sledgehammer, accepting the shit destiny laid out before you. 

You groggily descended the stairs after getting dressed and grabbed an apple from the fridge, not bothering to make yourself a real breakfast before heading out and getting into your smaller family car and starting to drive to school, not wanting to wake your parents up just to say goodbye.

You pulled into the parking lot at your school, looking at the building in front of you remorsefully and sluggishly opening the car door, stepping out and making your way into the school gates just as the first bell had rung. You suddenly were wide awake and rushed to your locker, getting out your books for the first and second period and quickly heading to class, not exactly wishing to be late.

Halfway through the first lesson and you already wanted nothing more than to go home. You looked back down to your arms, wanting to distract yourself from the lesson with the intricate patterns on your arm you had drawn and the pretty tones that had mysteriously appeared. As you were admiring the way they fit so well together, you caught black ink appearing on your other arm through the corner of your eye. Alarmed, you quickly look over to it, seeing writing appear magically on your skin. Realization had finally set in. It was your soulmate.

‘Are you in school right now?’ the writing read

You quickly grabbed a pen, finally getting over the initial shock and writing a quick message back.

‘Yeah, first period. You?’

‘Same. We must be in places with similar time zones’

“Ahem, Y/N and Renjun, maybe one of you would mind telling me the answer” You looked up, dumbfounded, to see your teacher switching her gaze between you and another kid in your class

Looking over, you saw the other one, supposedly named Renjun, also had writing on his hand, you also managed to catch a short glimpse of his other arm, displaying a floral pattern exactly like the one on yours. He looked over to you and you made eye contact, he dropped his gaze down to your arms and immediately his jaw dropped, right along with yours

“Maybe you two could stop drawing on yourselves in the middle of class and actually pay attention”

“R-right, sorry,” You said, peeling your eyes off of your newly found soulmate to look your teacher in the eye

“Y-yeah, sorry miss” Renjun said, mirroring your actions

Class continued as normal but you and Renjun continuously kept looking over to each-other, amazed you had been so close together the entire time and never realized. Any moment your eyes weren’t on Renjun, they were on the clock, desperately anticipating the end of the period. After what felt like years, the teacher finally dismissed you and the class. Renjun immediately made his way towards you, you doing the same and meeting him halfway.

“Meet me on the right side of the school gate after school.” Renjun said, before quickly walking away, obviously not wanting to be late for class

You blinked, trying to process what just happened. Shaking your head, you snapped yourself back to reality and followed the crowd out of the classroom into the crowded hallway to head to your next class.

Each period felt like it lasted forever, each tick of the clock etching itself into your brain. Finally, the bell for the end of school rang and you dashed out of the classroom once the teacher had dismissed the class. You made your way to the front of the school, going to the right side like instructed and waiting patiently. About half a minute passed before you saw Renjun running up to you, waving slightly. He finally made it, slightly out of breath. You stayed silent, telling yourself you were letting him catch his breath but really, you just had absolutely no idea what to say, which led to it getting very awkward once he did catch his breath.

“Um…Nice art?” You said, not being able to stand the silence

“Uh…you too,” He said hesitantly

It stayed silent for a while before both of you made eye contact and suddenly burst out laughing, out of anger? Amusement? Adrenaline? I dunno, something starting with ‘A’, the word was on the tip of your tongue but oh well.

“I can’t believe we were that close to each other the entire time and never noticed,” You gushed once you’d calmed down

“Same! It’s so hard to believe, I’m almost always drawing on myself in that class”

The laughter died down and it ended with you two smiling at each other in comfortable silence. You stuck your hand out in front of him.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I’m Y/N”

“I’m Renjun,” He said, taking your hand and shaking it

BONUS

You and Renjun had gotten to know each other really well over the past few days, and here two you were, in your room making a huge mess that you were gonna pay for later with art supplies, brushes, and paper. Renjun was making all sorts of things, and every single one of them beautiful, almost as beautiful as Renjun’s smile, or his voice, or personality.

You finally found the word starting with ‘a’ you were looking for a few days earlier.

It was adoration