#it’s already impossible to wear my purse with this jacket without worrying I am going to scratch the leather or accidentally rip a pin off

[wittywallflower]

showing off my Denim Jacket Bisexual swag

can’t decide if I should lean into the theme that’s clearly developing, or expand to include other fandoms

[lost-in-the-80s]

It’s You pt. 2

Pairing: Duff McKagan x (fem) reader

Words: 2,829k

Summary: You and Duff are best friends and you help him to impress a girl. You should be happy for him, but then why do you feel sad? You couldn’t like him, could you? (fluff) 

A/N: 1- Hi guys! I’m back with the second part! I hope you guys like it :)

        2- We’ll keep calling her She.

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car​ @ladieswttda​ add yourself to my tag list :)

Part 1

Could he love Y/N in a way that friends shouldn't love each other? 

This question haunted his mind all night and day. He almost didn’t sleep and when he woke up it was the only thing he could think of. 

It was a difficult situation. If he liked Y/N he would have to say something, but what if she didn’t like him back?

When the evening arrived he took a shower, put on a pair of black jeans, his CBGB t-shirt, and his new leather jacket. He looked at his reflection on the mirror while he put on some cologne. He sighed, Y/N would come to pick him up in a few minutes, still he had no clue about what he was going to do.

He was starting to hate this situation. He not only had to realize who he really liked, but he would have to stay for almost an hour in the car with Y/N, and by now the thought of being around her was starting to make him anxious. Not because of her, but because he was scared of ruining everything.

If it was a normal decision, Y/N would have been the first person he would ask for advice. But now she was the subject, and he couldn’t just ask her to help him understand how he felt about her.

Exiting the bathroom he decided to talk to his other best friend. Knocking on the door, he waited until a shirtless Slash appeared. “Hey man, I need some help”.

“Come in mate,” Slash said, opening the door for him. “What’s it?”

Slash sat on his bed, beside his acoustic guitar that he had been previously playing while Duff leaned against Slash’s desk. 

“Fuck, it’s complicated” Duff sighed before starting to tell him everything.

After listening to the whole story Slash spoke up. “Well, at least you’re starting to realize that there is something there”

Duff frowned. “Why does everybody seem to say it?”

“Because there is something Duff. Like, on the day I met you I thought you two were a couple.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Duff started to get frustrated again. Opening his jacket pocket he grabbed a cigarette and lighted it up, taking a long drag.

“What do I do Slash? It was supposed to be simple, I would get in the car, go to that fucking amusement park, impress her and it would be done. But now it’s way more than that. I have to understand this before I get in that car.”

“Why the rush, man?”

Duff groaned. “If it’s Y/N I don’t want to be with someone else. I don’t wanna waste my time with her if she’s not the one, you know?” 

“You already know the answer dude.” Slash said, picking up his guitar and playing a few delicate notes on it.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here Saul.”

Slash rolled his eyes at the sound of his name. “If you don’t really know, I think you should take a moment to yourself and think about what you like about each one of them. And then think about how your life would be without them.” 

Duff looked to the floor while he took the last drag of his cigarette. “But in my opinion, you know very well the answer, you’re just pretending you don’t.”

Duff stared into his eyes. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could do it Steven’s voice filled the house. “DUFF!!” 

Duff rolled his eyes. “What!?” 

“Y/N’s here to pick you up!”

“Fuck” Duff said before exiting the house and getting into Y/N’s car.

“Hey!” She said with a sweet smile, and for a brief moment he forgot about his nerves. 

“Hi” He mumbled while adjusting the safety belt.

“Nice jacket.”

“Thank you.” He replied while looking through the window. He was so fucked now. 

The long drive to the amusement park was quiet, the only sound filling the car being Y/N’s tape of Led Zeppelin II. She would murmured the words for her favorite songs and Duff joined her sometimes. 

When “Thank You” started playing he looked at her, he knew she loved that song.

She was looking ahead, paying attention to the traffic. The sun was setting and the bright orange illuminated her face. If someone had asked Duff what was the most beautiful piece of art he had seen, he would answer by telling them about this moment. 

After the tape had ended and the third song of “L.A Woman” by The Doors started playing they arrived.

“Just make a quick stop and I’ll exit.” Duff said looking through his window.

Y/N didn’t say anything, moving towards the parking lot. Turning off the engine she leaned on her seat trying to reach for her purse on the back seat.

“What’re you doing?” Duff asked with wide eyes.

“Well, I spent almost an hour driving you here, I’m hungry.” He stared at her eyes with a worried face.

“Relax, I won’t fuck your date up.” She said rolling her eyes. 

Opening her purse she took some money, putting on her shorts pocket before putting her bag underneath the seat.

Exiting the green Ford Bronco, Duff waited until Y/N locked the door and walked on her side until they got to the gates of the park. 

“Do you know where she’s going to be?” 

“Yeah, Jane said they would be near the Carousel.” 

Y/N nodded. 

“Well… I guess-” 

Before he could finish Y/N said “Go on... Call me if you need a ride back home.”

He nodded and started to walk towards where he thought the carousel would be. 

Y/N didn’t know why, but her heart clenched with every step he took. Sighing, she turned right and started walking.

While Duff walked, a million thoughts crossed his mind. What if he was making a mistake? What if Y/N was the one and not her? 

When he realized he was already at the carousel, and there she was, sitting on a table with her friends talking and laughing about something. 

He stopped in his tracks and suddenly, Axl’s voice filled his mind. “I always thought you and Y/N would end up together”

“there is a strong connection between the two of you."

"Plus, friends don't look at each other like that!"

Fuck. He thought to himself. 

Then Slash’s words popped up. “think about what you like about each one of them. And then think about how your life would be without them.”

This is it! He had to make a decision and it had to be now. 

Leaning against a light pole he took a cigarette and lighted it, hoping that it would help him think better. 

What did he like about Y/N?

She never pushed him to do things he didn’t like. She always laughed at his jokes, even when they weren’t funny. He always felt calm when he was around her and she always found a way to calm him when he was having a panic attack. She liked the same bands as him. When they were together, they always had something to talk about. He liked it when the smell of her perfume stayed on his clothes whenever they hugged. His mom and siblings loved her. And the most important, she was always there with him, during the good and the bad times. 

And what did he like about her?

When he tried to think, nothing came into his mind, Y/N’s laugh was filling it completely, making it impossible for him to think about someone else. Fuck, he loved her laugh. 

Looking up to the now dark sky he thought to himself again. How would his life be without Y/N on it?

This made his heart clench, he didn’t want to think about it. He knew that if she disappeared from his life for any reason it would be too hard for him to handle. 

Now it was as clear as water. How couldn't he realize this earlier? How he never saw that he loved Y/N like this? 

It didn’t matter, he had to find her and tell her how he felt before it was too late.

Running back to the gates he decided to ask the old sir selling tickets if he had seen her. 

“Hi, sir, did you see a girl leaving the park? She is taller than most women and she’s wearing denim shorts and a red plaid shirt with cowboy boots. She has those dreamy eyes that make you want to sink on them,  and when she smiles it’s as if the world stopped. She also does this strange thing with her nose when she laughs and has that energy, that makes you wanna be around her.

Fuck, it felt so obvious that he liked her now. 

“Relax son, your girlfriend is still here. She bought 10 tickets about fifteen minutes ago. She went that direction.”  He said pointing.

“Thank you sir.” Duff started to walk fast. His girlfriend. He really wished she would be someday.

And there she was, at the end of the line for the bumper cars. 

“Hey.” He said approaching her.

She frowned. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn't you be with her?”

“Nah, you guys were right, she’s not worth it.” 

Y/N nodded. 

“Enjoying your night?” 

“Fuck yeah! Just went on the Chairoplane and the Pirate ship. It was fucking cool!” 

Duff smiled at her excitement. 

“Wanna come with me?” She said pointing towards the bumper cars.

“Fuck yeah!” 

They waited on the line until it was their turn. “Be nice.” He said pointing to Y/N. He knew how competitive she was. She just smiled innocently.

As soon as the alarm sounded Y/N was chasing him with her car. She crashed on Duff from behind. “Really Y/N?” He asked laughing. And so they carried on playing.

“I kicked your ass!” Y/N said laughing when they exited the place, making Duff laugh too. 

“Come, I wanna go on the Roller Coaster.” She grabbed his hand dragging him to an enormous roller coaster. 

Duff swallowed. “No way!”

“What? Don’t be a pussy, Duff!” 

“I’m not being a pussy!” She looked at him suggestively. “Ok, maybe I am, but there is no way I’m going on this.”  

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, wait for me then.” He nodded and waited patiently until she came back.

“You don’t know what you lost. It was so much fun!” She said when she came back, her hair all messed up and her trhoat sore from the screaming.

“I believe in you, but I don’t regret it.” He said grinning.

She just laughed. “Ghost train?”

“Now you’re speaking  my language!” 

They walked side to side until they reached the train. After just a few minutes on the line, it was their turn. They were lucky that the park was kind of empty that day. 

As soon as the ride started, the sound of screams filled the place. After passing by a man with an electric saw and a couple of people dressed like zombies, Y/N was starting to think it wasn’t scary at all. 

This thought changed as soon as the fake body of a hanged man fell right in front of them, making her scream and tug on Duff for protection. 

“It’s not real Y/N.” He said while he put his arms on top of her shoulders, bringing her closer to him. 

After that, they passed by witches, mummies and ETs, finally coming to the end of the ride. 

“Sorry about that.” Y/N said as they exited the train.

“It’s fine Y/n/N” 

“Duff!” You guys heard someone shout. It was her.

Y/N instantly rolled her eyes, getting annoyed. What if Duff regretted his decision? What if he decided to leave with her now and left Y/N alone?

“What are you doing here?” She asked, getting closer. “Jane told me you guys have a label now, I’m so happy for you!” She was right in front of him now.

“Thank you.” Duff said.

“Do you wanna go on a ride with me?”

“Nah, I think I will pass, I’m staying with Y/N tonight.”

Y/N's heart was filled with happiness from hearing this. 

“Are you sure?” She asked with a brow raised.

“Yeah! I see you around.” With that, he put his arm on Y/N’s shoulders again, this time guiding her in the opposite direction. 

“You hungry?” He looked down at her.

Y/N nodded excitedly. “Come, I’ll buy you something then.”

Once in the eating area, Y/N sat on a table until Duff came back with two hot dogs and two sodas. 

They ate while talking about random things. During the conversation, Y/N couldn't avoid paying attention to the small details about him. 

The way his eyes stared at hers, the ways his lips curved when he smiled, the ways his hands moved as he told her some old story. He was more than handsome, he was beautiful.

He always made her feel happy when they were together. Her problems and worries slowly vanishing from her mind as the only thing she could focus on was him.

After taking a sip from his Coke, Duff stated. “I’m choosing the next ride.”

“Fine. But choose something nice.”

“Don’t worry honey!” She smiled at the nickname. 

When they finished, Duff decided to buy cotton candy for them. “Which color do you want?” 

“White.” 

“White? Who chooses white for cotton candy?”

“Me!” She said laughing as the woman handed her the cotton candy stick.

They had just started to eat when Y/N pointed excitedly. “Look! A shooting booth! Let’s go there!” And so she dragged him.

Y/N  started to look for tickets in her pockets, a smile crept on her lips when she took one of them and put it on the booth counter.

“Who’s gonna be shooting?” The man behind the counter asked.

“Me!" Y/N said while she stretched her arms. 

The man looked towards Duff, who just made a gesture with his free hand as if saying he didn’t want to shoot while eating more cotton candy. 

The man handed Y/N the fake gun and started to explain the game. “The ducks will move from one side to another at the same speed all the time. You shoot three, you get a prize, you shoot all the six of them and you get that big bear over there.” He said, pointing to an enormous stuffed white bear. 

Y/N nodded. “Ready?” he asked, receiving another nod from her. 

Starting the game, Y/N aligned the gun on her shoulder and pointed to the fake ducks. One, two, three, four, five, six. Six shots, six ducks. 

Smiling proudly, Y/N put the gun on the counter. “So I get the big bear?”

Closing his mouth, the man handed Y/N the bear murmuring a “Congratulations.”

“How the fuck did you do that?” Duff asked once they had exited the booth, still not believing what he had seen.

“I’m from Alaska, remember? Very few people and many weapons. Everybody knows how to shoot.” Y/N said laughing a little. “Anyway, did you choose where you want to go? We just have two tickets left, so it will be the last ride of the night.”

“Yeah, I wanna go on the Ferris Wheel.” Duff said, throwing the cotton stick on a trash can after finishing.

“The Ferris Wheel? But it’s so boring!” Y/N said whining.

Duff simply shrugged looking back at her with pleading eyes.

“Fine.” She said, agreeing.

They walked towards it while Y/N carried the huge stuffed bear. 

Getting there, they handed the woman their tickets and took a seat, waiting for the ride to start.

Once it started they remained silent. Y/N looked forward, seeing the city lights fill the night, while Duff looked at her. When they reached the top, the ride came to a stop and Duff thought “This is now or never!”.

"Y/N."

"Hm?" She answered, looking at him.

He looked to his hands. "These past days many things haunted my mind. I started to think about some possibilities and the boys made me realize that I was hiding my true feelings from myself."

He looked up and saw her eyes glimpsing in his direction.

"And I realized that I love you Y/N! And I'm sorry for not having realized this sooner." 

She smiled at him, making him smile too.

"I think I love you too Duff." She said with a tender voice.

He put a lock of her hair behind her ear and leaned down.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked expectantly.

She nodded, and with that, his lips touched hers. And what started with just a small and simple touch, ended in a passionate kiss that had waited years to be shared.

After a few seconds, they parted ways, smiling at each other. Y/N leaned against Duff, who embraced her, and together they watched the city lights as the Ferris Wheel started moving again. 

[tisfan]

Lucky Buck’s Magical Coffee

Chapter Two - Working for a Living

Fantasy Bingo: Square Magical Exhaustion

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743212/chapters/60835351

Jarvis flapped Tony’s coat at him as he was ready to leave. “I have insider information that the weather ifrit’s had a fight with his spouse. It may rain later today.” It didn’t look like rain according to the screens that Tony had open that showed the outside world. It looked sunny and peaceful and lovely. But Jarvis was seldom wrong about these things.

The spirit of technology was still relatively young, compared with his brothers and sisters -- spirits of air, earth, fire, water, and void -- having only started coming into being about the mid seventeenth century, or so.

Jarvis himself had been formed in 1835, fathered, one might say, by the invention of the Analytical Engine, in the workshop of Charles Babbage. For a spirit, he was practically a baby. To Tony, he was impossibly old and wise. But then, Tony was a technomage, and spirits of the “natural world” didn’t tend to speak with him.

“Right, so I’ll want an umbrella,” Tony said, digging through the closet for one, “and to bump personal force fields up on my to-do list. And not to suggest a walk in the park for my date. Or maybe I should; Bucky’s a Natural Witch, maybe he’d enjoy getting caught in the rain.”

Tony was on his way to Buck’s Lucky Coffee as soon as he found a functional umbrella, to meet up for their third date, as soon as Bucky turned the afternoon shift over to Clint. He was somewhat unreasonably giddy about it; three was an important number in both the physical and magical worlds, and so three dates seemed... significant, somehow.

He wondered if, after three dates, he could call Bucky his boyfriend, instead of “this guy I’ve gone out with a couple of times.” And why in Turing’s name did he have a pink umbrella with flouncy little ruffles all around its edges? They looked like they’d hold onto water and dump it on you at exactly the wrong moment.

The line wasn’t quite out the door, but only until Tony got there. The next person would, in fact, be out the door. Although that might have been because Bucky had an actual troll as a customer, and he both took up a lot of space and people didn’t want to stand near him. Tony was pretty sure all the nonsense about trolls was just racist bullshit. They did a really good job building bridges, so what, exactly, was everyone’s problem? There hadn't been an incident involving trolls and children in at least a century. (well, sensationalist magazines and abusive parents dragged that story out all the time.)

And even as Tony was putting that together, three more people got into line behind him. The date was not going to start on time, because there was no way Bucky was walking away and dumping a rush like this on Clint to handle alone.

Which was fine, it actually, absolutely was, because Tony was a little overloaded with work, himself, so he could get his coffee and go stake out a table in the corner and knock out a little work on his tablet while he waited. They both worked in customer service; it was a thing you planned around.

Tony squinted up at the ceiling and huffed over the patchiness of the shop’s wards. Bucky was going to have another imp in his espresso machine if the building super didn’t get some fresh protections up soon.

The line inched forward. The troll spoke actual trollish, which Tony didn’t understand. Neither, apparently, did Bucky, but Bucky gestured to Clint, who made a few gestures. SSL -- Supernatural Sign Language, which was left over from when trolls and witches and dwarves all worked together on some of the city projects, and had to learn to effectively communicate. These days, almost everyone spoke English, which seemed very human-centric, come to think of it. Maybe Tony could get some mileage out of a translation app.

“Get me a bucket,” Clint said. “He wants a venti-venti-venti.” Clint signed again, and the troll dropped a gold coin on the counter about the size of a jar lid.

 A triple-venti was going to take a while to pull. Tony fished out his phone and started making notes. Translation app, personal force fields, the somewhat sticky problem of a cursed laptop that a college student had brought him that held the student’s only copy of their master’s thesis -- bad idea, that, always have multiple backups -- and thus couldn’t be de-cursed the quick and easy way, which had a tendency to leave a few memory sectors fragged.

The line kept growing behind Tony. But he’d finally gotten up to the second in line when the door pushed open and a tall, willowy woman came in with strawberry blond hair that was soaking wet and stuck to her face. “I don’t understand it,” she said. “It was sunny. The weather report said sunny all day--” She gasped a few times for breath -- if Tony had been running in those shoes, he’d have broken an ankle -- and gazed at the line in horror.

“Ifrit domestic trouble,” Tony volunteered. “Or so I heard.”

“You think I can send him my dry-cleaning bill?” She wrung out her hair and then took off her jacket, flapping water toward the door. Her shell top was sticking to her. “I’m soaking wet, I’m going to be late, I’ve been working the worst hours.”

“Hi Miss Potts,” Bucky yelled from the counter.

“Mr. Barnes,” she said. “Tell me you can save me.”

“I can save you.”

The troll collected his drink -- the repurposed ice-cream bucket still looked like an espresso cup in his huge hand -- and headed out into the weather. The door yawned and stretched around him to make room. That was a neat trick. Tony hadn’t seen it before; tech wizards said it was too hard, and so trolls and giants and some of the taller elven tribes complained about lack of access.

“Huh. I wonder when he had that installed,” Tony mused, eyeing the door, and then his attention snapped back to -- Miss Potts, apparently. “Does he save you on a regular basis? What’s your standard?”

“I’m probably only alive because of Mr. Barnes’ shop,” Miss Potts said. “Have you been here before? I love this place. I would live here, if they’d let me. Working for A Living. I think I might either die falling down the stairs in exhaustion, or actually push my boss down an elevator shaft without it.”

Tony let the two or three people between them skip ahead of him in the line -- he wasn’t going anywhere until the rush died down, anyway -- to make it easier to chat. “I only discovered it a couple of weeks ago,” Tony admitted. “Came in to exorcise the espresso machine -- it’s fine now, don’t worry -- and well, like you -- didn’t want to leave again.” He grinned. “Sounds like your boss needs to pause and have a cup, too. What do you do?”

“Personal Assistant,” Miss Potts said. “Pretty much whatever my boss says to do, all the way from taking notes at meetings to fetching his dry cleaning. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except they’re in the middle of a hostile takeover, and between angry dwarves and multiple on-site labor disputes, I’ve been putting in sixteen hours a day, six days a week, for almost a month.” She did look on the brink of falling over with exhaustion, her hands shaking.

“Yike,” Tony sympathized. “Is this his first hostile? I mean, someone with experience would have known to hire a temp for the duration or something.”

Up at the counter, Bucky was making two Money for Nothings, keeping up an easy patter with the customers about lottery tickets and checking their pockets. 

“He seems to think that I’m the only one who can keep this company going,” she muttered. She pulled a magical compact out of her purse and opened it. The compact spouted a few uplifting and cheerful advertising-disguised-as-pep-talk phrases, and then-- “damn.” The purple smoke drifted out of the back and pooled around their feet. “It got wet. I am going to complain to the weather guild about this.”

“Nah,” Tony said. “I mean, go ahead and do that, sure, but here, let me see--” He plucked the compact out of her hand and peered into it. It wasn’t very sophisticated tech, but it only took a little for Tony to be able to manipulate it. A locking clasp, a tiny speaker and some wires connected to a button battery for amplification, and boom, tech.

Tony balanced the little thing on the palm of his hand and let energy flow into his witchmarks, making them glow a bright blue. There were some who said it looked spooky, but Tony had always found the light comforting. He coaxed little wisps of magic up into the compact and swept out the water, reversing some corrosion and a little bit of normal wear-and-tear, and reinstalling the sprite software that had drifted loose.

He popped the lid open again.

“Oh, honey, that shirt with that jacket, really? We’ve got some work to do.”

Tony rolled his eyes at it and handed it back to Miss Potts. “Here you go, good as new.” Well, it might be a little bit sassier than it had been before. Semi-autonomous sprite technology seemed to do that whenever Tony put his hands on it. 

“How did you-- thank you,” Miss Potts said. “My name’s Pepper Potts, it’s nice to meet you.” She held out a hand for a professional shake, but when her fingertips touched Tony’s, he felt the brief surge of Empathic Magic. No wonder her boss wanted her on site all the time. Empaths could affect the moods and compliance of people around them with a simple touch.

“Tony Stark,” he said. He considered her briefly. “Want to quit your horrible job and come work for me?”

“Are you joking?”

The woman in front of Tony in line took so long deciding what pastry she wanted with her coffee, Tony was almost certain that her coffee was going to be cold by the time she actually took a sip. 

“Here,” Bucky said. “I got yours already, doll. And Miss Potts, I’ll have your life affirming moment ready in just two minutes.”

Bucky put a mug, rather than a to-go cup on the counter in front of Tony. The heart in the steamed milk on top was glittering red and gold at him.

Tony shot Bucky a warm smile and a thanks, and stepped aside with his mug so Pepper wouldn’t have to reach past him when Bucky finished hers. He turned the mug until the point of the heart was pointing straight at his chest -- sympathetic magics always worked better if you gave them a bit of a push -- and then tipped the froth into his mouth. Like it had the previous times he’d had Bucky’s Lucky in Love brew, everything felt extra-warm for a moment, and a little bit sparkly, and behind the counter, Bucky seemed glow, just the tiniest bit.

“I wasn’t joking,” he told Pepper, when he’d finished savoring that first sip. “My dad died a couple of years ago and failed to leave the business to me free and clear, and last year, almost on the anniversary of his death, his old business partner split the company and walked off with about two-thirds of the staff for his branch. I’ve been scrambling to keep up and looking for good people.”

Obie had done a little more than simply splitting the company, but the sob story wasn’t something Tony liked to wave around. Maybe, if she took him up on it, he’d tell her about it sometime.

Bucky, perhaps feeling something going on -- he seemed to have that sense -- put Pepper’s drink in a tall glass, complete with a bamboo recycled straw instead of in the to-go cup. “On the house,” he added, pushing an actual brownie-crafted brownie on a plate at her. “With a little extra daydreams.”

“I would live here,” Pepper repeated, taking a sip of the drink. “So, job. Details. Would you like to do an interview, I could do an interview. Right here. I even have my resume up to date.”

Tony glanced at the line behind the ordering counter, then shrugged. He wasn’t going anywhere soon. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s do that.” He pointed at a table.

It took barely a minute of scanning Pepper’s resume to know that she was vastly overqualified, and probably not getting paid anything like she was worth. She’d successfully negotiated a dozen contracts, as a personal assistant.

A little nudging and she didn’t quite admit to being sexually harassed by her boss, but Tony could sense that maybe that had happened, too.

When Bucky finally came out from behind the counter, leaving Clint to finish out his shift, Pepper was smiling, cheerful, and enthusiastic, and it probably wasn’t all entirely due to Bucky’s coffee.

“Hey, snowflake!” Tony greeted him cheerfully. “I’m going to steal Pepper from her obnoxious boss. I’d offer to pay her what she’s worth, but frankly, I’m not sure I can afford that, so I’ll have to settle for merely doubling her current salary.”

Bucky tapped the plate in front of her, where she’d eaten the entire brownie except for a few crumbs. “Opportunity Knocks brownie. Glad you enjoyed it.” He gave Pepper a wink. “But now, I am going to steal my boyfriend from you, since we have a date as soon as I’m off shift.”

Tony pulled just a little magic out of his phone and flipped it at Pepper’s. “That’s my number,” he told her. “I’ll call tomorrow, and we’re going to do this. Start writing your resignation letter. Hire some clowns to see you out. Or strippers. Stripper clowns?”

Bucky rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know a clown dominatrix,” he volunteered. “She could always use extra work.”

“Perfect,” Tony declared. “Talk to you tomorrow, Pep!” He tucked his arm through Bucky’s and turned them toward the door.

Guess he could start calling Bucky his boyfriend, now. That was easier than he’d thought.

On the way through the door, Bucky offered his hand to the doorframe, cupping what looked like a thimbleful of honey and a tiny piece of bread. “Wood fairies,” he said. “She deserved a bonus after that trick with our Troll earlier.” He glanced up at the sky, which was still pouring rain, and the occasional spates of hail, in anger. “I don’t know if you had anything in mind, specifically, but there’s a traveling mystical petting zoo in the park. They probably have wind sprites to keep the weather off. I always wanted to see a unicorn up close.”

“I’m more of a wyvern man, myself,” Tony said, feeling the happy buzz of Bucky’s potion fizzing through him at Bucky’s closeness. “Yeah, let’s go to the zoo.” He held up the pink umbrella. “I can even keep us dry on the way, if you don’t mind walking close.”

[nikki-fucking-sixx]

Be My Mistake (Nikki Sixx x Reader)

You weren’t what he wanted. You were the good girl from the suburbs who did not have her first sip of alcohol until she was in college. The girl who gave the facade of perfection to her parents before having sex with some stranger she met at a party the weekend before. The girl who planned on working for some big marketing company in New York but really wanted to be a singer. The girl who craved intimacy from men because she never really understood what rejection felt like until the man beside her would tell her to get out of their bed and go home. 

You needed something to give your boring, suburban life a thrill.

Maybe that is why you thought it would be a great idea to go to the hotel you knew Motley Crue was staying. You wanted the chance to feel a new rush unlike any other, sleeping with a rockstar. That would be a story to tell everyone that will make your life not sound as mundane as it is. Your flesh touching his and his lips all over your neck, that would be cool. 

You smiled to yourself as you took a sip of your white wine from the hotel bar, fake intimacy. You wanted to pretend there was love there. Well, maybe not pretend, but with some big-haired rockstar, that seems nearly impossible. At that thought, you drank the remainder of the wine before waving down the bartender.

“Hi, another Pinot Grigio?” The bartender smiled and started pouring you your drink. 

“That’ll be $12.” You pull out a $20 and hand it to him before you hear a sarcastic snort beside you. 

“Spending $12 on a cheap-ass glass of wine?” You hate being mocked, it was something you were not used to. You turn to this man, ready to ask him what his issue was, but then you see his face. It’s him. Nikki fucking Sixx. You take a second to regain your composure, put on your cool girl facade. 

“Well why don’t you buy me a nice glass of wine so I don’t have to waste my money on crap.” He gave you a sly smirk before waving down the bartender.

“A glass of the best white wine you have for the lady and your cheapest whiskey for me.” You let out a laugh, what a fucking hypocrite. But you like the juxtaposition. 

“Now I feel like a jackass for drinking nice shit while you drink some cheap-ass whiskey.” You turn towards him, crossing your leg over the other, making yourself seem thinner.

“Cheaper is better, hits harder.” He said before downing his glass, which was instantly replaced with another. “So, what’s your name?” 

“(Y/n).” You put your hand out to shake his and he raised his eyebrows at you. You slowly took your hand away before resting it on the bar. The facade sometimes broke. Pretending to not know who he is, you ask, “What about you?”

“Nikki and I don’t shake hands.” 

“How do you greet people then?” He already intrigued you so much.

“Guys just seem to know me already and girls shove their tongues down my throat.” He took a shot of his liquor. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to fuck me yet.” 

“Why do you say that?” Your cheeks began to heat up and redden, “It’s been about five minutes.”

“All girls want my dick and I wanna give it to them.” You snicker to yourself as he leans in towards you, “Even within the first five minutes of seeing me.”

“You sure have a high opinion of yourself.” This comment did not sit well with him.

“So do you,” He finished his drink and slammed it down. “I see the way you look at me. You’re fucking afraid.” Your eyebrows raised and your mouth dropped open. 

“Afraid? Of you?” You cross your arms over your chest, “You’re acting like I have never seen a guy like you before.”

“I know you have, you just haven’t been hit on by one before,” He raised an eyebrow at you, putting a hand on your thigh, grasping it lightly. You stiffened. “Uptight girls like you are not interested in fucking a guy like me, and guys like me are not particularly interested either.”

You gawk. What about you made you so different from the girls he slept with on a regular basis? You were wearing what you believed to be a rather revealing outfit for a hotel bar scene: a pair of skinny jeans, Doc Martens, a low cut top and a cheap leather jacket. This was cool. This is what those girls wore.

“What makes you think I’m uptight?” You truly wanted to know.

“Your face,” He took a sip of his whiskey, his cup never seemed to actually run out, “It’s one of those that says “Let’s settle down and have some kids,” so you can become some housewife as fast as fucking possible. And I can tell you, I am not one of those motherfuckers that want to have some stupid ass, stuck up wife holding me back.” At that, he stood up, ready to leave. It was that rejection you were all too familiar with. The emotional rejection but without the physical rejection. Where did this sense of rejection even come from? It may have been the way his eyes seemed to tell some story or the way his lips curled while he spoke. Your hand reached out and grabbed his.

“Why not fuck me.” He ran a hand through his thick black hair.

“Some uptight bitch?” You then stand up.

“I may be uptight to you, but I can promise that after tonight, you will never see me again,” It hurt you to say because you really would have loved to see him again, “You will never have to worry about me being your housewife.” 

He smirked to himself and then looked at you, starting from your feet and stopping at your eyes. They seemed to bore right through you. 

“I bet you’re pussy out at the elevators.” You grab your purse and take his hand before leaning up to his ear.

“Try me.” You pulled away from him with a smirk on your face. Suddenly, you became that confident girl you always wanted to be, not the doomed housewife. Nikki bent down and grabbed your legs before throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a giggle before you both starting moving towards the elevator. Once inside, he places you down and presses you against the wall before smashing his lips to yours. You were both ravenous for each other. His teeth bit onto your lower lip, pulling it out slightly. Your eyes would not leave his as he put his hands on your cheeks and pulled you in.

“Which room?” He grunted between kisses. 

“217,” It came out as a light moan. He clicked the two behind your back without leaving your lips. His hands made their way to your hips, pulling you closer as you giggled into the kiss. The door then opened and you grab his hand to take him in the direction of your room. As you fiddled with the key you felt Nikki press his lips to your ear and lightly kiss and nibble.

“You’re not going to be able to walk when I’m done with you” You managed to unlock the door and stumble inside. 

“Why do you say that?” You ask as you kick off your boots and he turns you around towards him, slamming you against the shut door.

His hands started to move off the door and trail down your chest, stopping at the hem of your top, “You’re so soft,” He rips your shirt off, “You’ll fall apart the second I touch you.” 

At that you let him take you. For hours, it was only the two of you and that empty room. His eyes never left yours, they were invested in every expression you made. You craved his moans, they made you want more than anything to show him what you can do. It may have been almost romantic. 

Almost.

You both laid beside each other, him staring at the ceiling and you pretending not to want to look over at him and just stare. Everything about him encapsulated you. His big hair, his eyeliner, his tattoos, you were never going to see a man like him again. He could never know that though. You made a promise. You heard him begin to rustle. Not wanting to watch him leave, you rolled onto your side, watching the closed window shades flutter against the breeze. His weight left the bed and you heard him stumbling into his jeans. The silence was dangerous, there was so much more that had to be said, but you were fucking terrified. All you could do was clench your blanket to your chest and hope he does not notice the tears welling up in your eyes. 

You heard the door open, but his footsteps stopped before he could leave, “Maybe in another lifetime this could have been something.” You stared, wide-eyed at the shades watching them blur as tears came into your vision. The door closed and you were alone. Alone and feeling that overwhelming rejection all over again, but more so than usual. He was a mistake. A beautiful and tragic mistake.

But a mistake.

[hautekurture]

[para] communication

characters → @hautekurture​, @knockonkarofsky​

location → undisclosed midnight madness location, nyada campus, ny.

timeframe → october 9, 2019

summary → kurt has questions about marley he thinks karofsky can answer.

notes → mentions of suicide, death, missing people.

Kurt thought he saw someone he knew. Under his chosen mask for Midnight Madness, Kurt's eyes blazed with the memories the familiar figure brought in him. It has to be him. Shoving his hands into his Prada Military Bomber Jacket, Kurt tailed his target. His blue Valentino Garavani Rockstud Rockrunner camouflage sneakers crunched dead twigs. It was cold tonight. Even his Mackintosh 0004 zip-neck sweater and the compression tights layered under his And Wander belted trousers didn't keep away the cold. When Kurt followed enough, he called out the name. "Karofsky. Stop."

David stopped. It has been days he had been trying to see a Midnight Madness match, to no avail. He keeps getting lost until it's already too late. A distant memory calls him. He turns around to see it. "Fuck, were supposed to wear masks too?" He asks, a bit embarrassed. "Finished already?" He tries to look at a clock, but he isn't wearing any as usual, so he ties to check the masked one's wrists. "You a fighter?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow at Karofsky not recognizing him, however it made sense. Kurt didn't wear masks of all things in his regular attire. "You could say that," Kurt said and then dropped the charade. It's stupid to pretend to be someone else. "Come on, you know who I am, Karofsky. And I know you know something about Marley Rose. Tell me. How did you help her get out." Kurt pointed without hesitation to the witch. "You can't play dumb with me, you already tried that in the faepocalypse." 

David could recognize the voice when he talked more. His expression got serious and he felt more uncomfortable when he mentioned Marley. "You don't know shit. Didn't help her at all." He uses the back of his hand to get rid of the accusatory finger. "Don't have to play. Bullshit name." But what if Kurt talked about this because he knew something. "You know something others don't, Kurt?"

Kurt felt a prickle at the side of his forehead when Karofsky caught on and deflected. "That's what I mean, I don't know what happened to her, but you do. Weren't you her right-hand man? The faes' hapless, faithful servant?" He let out a snort when Karofsky pushed his hand away. "I know there's no way she could have gotten on that bridge if she didn't get out of NYADA. And since lockdown happened, I sure as hell didn't see any Lusus Naturae given a pass to go."

David crosses his arms and looked at the side. Kurt didn't know. Of course. Why would he. "Was. Things changed when they killed half the clan." He says, trying to focus more on his anger and bitterness of the betrayal than the loss. He paused a moment to breathe, to think what to say. "You want me to find ya a way to get out, or are you worried 'bout her?"

Kurt was taken aback. They killed his clan? The arguments and counters Kurt had made in his head dissipated. He wanted to say sorry however Kurt couldn't even find the words to apologize. He was stunned silent. "Are you, or I guess, your clan going to file charges?" Kurt asked quietly. "I think you should. They should face punishment for what they did." Kurt swallowed, however the lump stayed. "I'm surprised you aren't worried. Did you read what happened? Truth be told, I don't think she's dead. However, I do believe she's in danger. Funny thing is, I'm not even her friend. I think she actually quite hated me. But I also think that's the reason why I should figure out what happened."

David almost laughs. Almost. "File charges? You know what exiled means. Punished? Most of Le Fay's are dead or locked." He said annoyed. He thought about it. Punished. "That doesn't help." What for. All the punished wouldn't fix anything. He wanted to ask what makes Kurt think he isn't worried. But he wasn't. He was avoiding thinking about it. "Don't want to think she's dead either. She's my friend." But he knows it. She is dead. David looks at the little stones on the fround, kicking out one. Everyone arounds him ends up being dead. He doesn't want hopes to search a dead person. If he ignores it, Marley would never die. She just ran away. "Doesn't make sense. You thought I helped her run away. Now ya think she's in danger. Why? Why's hate your reason?”

Kurt frowned. He admitted he didn't know what exiled meant in the magical world. "It doesn't matter if you're exiled, your clan deserves justice, isn't that right? Le Fay's wrong, obviously. However not all her followers are responsible... You feel that too, don't you." Kurt said, feeling strangely angry at Karofsky's demeanor. The Karofsky I know wouldn't want to leave things as they are. He would do something about it. Kurt crossed his arms and leaned on one hip. "The two aren't correlated, Karofsky. You can help someone out of saving them and then they end up doing something on their own that's," Kurt stopped himself from saying destructive. "Hate's my reason because it means I won't be caught in expectations. I don't know what to expect from her, so I won't be disappointed."

David uncrossed his arms. "It matters. They don't get what they deserve. Ain't part of this society. Every witch's saying shit 'bout unity but they still ignore the clan. Bet they'll say they had it comin'." He was getting fired up. "'Le Fay used lot of people. Who's responsible, then? Aren't I?" He was getting piss off. And trying to calm himself and listen to Kurt. "I got expectations. You too. Just not nice ones. What do ya think you're gonna find?" David shows Kurt his own crystal comm, disguised as a phone. "Been calling her. Doesn't answer. If we don't know more 'bout her, she ran away, free. If we'd know..." He saves his phone on his pocket. He doesn't want to say it. "K. Whatever. Let's try to find her. But you don't have a clue, don't ya?"

Kurt replied, "Then let's not make it matter. Who cares what the government think. Commons government thought gay people didn't deserve rights and we pushed back. I don't think your clan deserved the betrayal. And as much I don't care for how specifically magical lusus naturae are, it doesn't mean they are lesser than me. It also doesn't mean they are better than me either. We're all people." Kurt quieted when Karofsky was talking. It was surprising to hear Karofsky talk so much about this subject, when the boy would suffice with a yes or a no.  "The ones who are responsible are the ones who have no guilt about what they did. The ones who make excuses for their actions. You want to amend for your mistakes? Then do it by helping me for now." Kurt raised an eyebrow at the phone. This is so old-school. I guess he's telling the truth that he doesn't know. "Is she the type to even pick up her phone? Doesn't she... pollen or something." Kurt sort of remembered what she had told him. "I have been talking with Dani. I have my theories something spurred her to leave without a word to anyone."

David sighs. The validation didn't feel bad, but he knew it wasn't going to help. "I care. Things ain't going well for the clan. Need people to make a change. The're more gays than Karofskys." He keep trying, but no result at all was making it feel hopeless. Whatever it was because he was doing it wrong or it was impossible, he was tired. He keep silent when Kurt started to talk about making amends. He tried to not tear up much, so he just nodded after a moment. After a while, he keep trying to talk again. "A-ain't a phone. Crystal comm. Could know where she is if she sent a signal. But she ain't doing it. She can't or she doesn't wanna." He took his crystal comm again, and showed him the fake phone just...light up, but didn't do anything else a phone could do. "What theories?" He asks. "Uhm, Kurt...thing going okay? For ya?"

Kurt softened his stance and uncrossed his arms. "I can't argue there." He bit his lip and added on, "Sorry... and. Can I touch you?" He was one of the few people who wasn't a fan of randomly starting physical contact. Kurt pursed his lips at the crystal communication and nodded slowly. He didn't get it. He sucked in a breath from his teeth, and put his hands on his hips. "Theories about missing for two weeks. I don't remember what happened. I know I was somewhere else for a while and came back. I wonder if Marley remembered. If that's what made her want to go." He smiled ruefully behind his mask and pulled it off and away from his face. "I'm not scared that I'll get my memories back. I'm anxious what I'll do when I see them."

David is thankful for it. He doesn't want to argue about it now. "No problem." He gives him a soft nod "Ye. Ain't poisonous if ain't bleeding." David remembers when they went missing. Marley didn't remember. Dani told her no one seem to remember. He gets worried, and sees Kurt face again for what it feels like years. "What ya think you'll do? Get in danger?"

Kurt reached out and patted Karofsky on the shoulder. He kept his hand on the other's shoulder for a while and said with a slight flush, "Don't mention it. I'm not scared of touching you, you know I've fought you hand-to-hand before. I just know how it feels to not want to get touched when you're feeling a lot of things. Also, I know how it feels to want to have a sympathetic touch when I'm feeling a lot of things." He shrugged and pulled his hand back to shove back into his bomber jacket. "I worry I'll get other people in danger. Maybe that's why Marley left too." 

David accepted the touch, but still felt weird about reciprocating it. He didn't blush until he saw Kurt blushing a bit. He looks down and smiles brightly. "Will remember it." His smile faded hearing Kurt's theory. "Rather be in danger than be without ya." He says. "If ya remember somethin' like that... tell someone. K?" He scratch his neck. "Did ya ask the others who went missing too yet?"

Kurt returned to the seriousness of their conversation and smirked. "Being with me is being in danger, Karofsky." Then one second later, "Oh my god, why did I say that? Augh, if I sound edgy like that again, tell me I'm acting like a CW character. That'll snap me out of it." Kurt pulled a disgusted face. Kurt sighed and looked up into the night sky. "What is there to tell? Sometimes I feel like I'm giving people more trauma laying it on them 'cause I don't want to shoulder it alone. I haven't asked them yet, because nothing came out of it, until now. I don't know if Marley is a lone anomaly or the start of a pattern, but I know I don't want to wait to find out. I haven't talked to Blaine about this yet because I need for him to focus on his studies. He's aiming to graduate next year, and I know I'll be graduating soon." Kurt's breath fogged around his face. "I won't be here at NYADA after April."

David snorted a bit. "You can be edgy if you're sharp enough. Don't now what's CW, won't stop ya." He jokes. Kurt looked up to the starless sky, and David looked at him. He tries to kick another small stone on the way. "You feel people laying trauma on ya when they ask or tell ya 'bout these stuff too?" He feel like he was going to fell into the same mistakes again. But before saying he should tell Blaine, there was other thing. "You're leaving. I'll miss ya. Ready been." He was probably crossing way too many lines. "Glad you're leaving tho. This place shit." He thinks for a while. Blaine was talking about weddings, the last time he read him. "Ya sure don't wanna tell Blaine?"

Kurt burst out into a little giggle he hadn't expected could come from him. "Yeah, I'm very sharp." Kurt gave Karofsky an intense glare and relaxed to show he was joking. "Don't search it up. It's just trash shows, unless you want to learn about trash tv, then go ahead." Kurt shook his head. "No, because, maybe this is awful of me to say it, I know I'm not the one who's in that trauma? So I feel like I can help." Kurt leaned back to look at Karofsky, taking in the comment. "Thanks." I missed you too, now that I think about it. Now that I don't run away from thinking about it.  Kurt shook his head. "Yes, I'm sure. He's busying himself with other thoughts now. He's happy with those thoughts." Kurt gave his phone to Karofsky. "Put your number in. I don't use crystal communications."

"Then maybe others can help ya too." David says, trying not to think much about Kurt giggling. "If they aren't on it." He takes Kurts phone like he has been given a technology he doesn't know how to use. "I gave ya one crystal. It's hard to use?" He asks. Maybe Kurt doesn't get crystal as David doesn't get phones. "Don't have a phone. Give me yours. Can call ya on the street public phone machines."

"Are you asking for my number in a roundabout way?" Kurt asked and gave Karofsky his phone number regardless. He remembered he could have received something like a crystal in the mail a while back. Kurt had thrown it out didn't he? Keeping that to himself,  Kurt deflected back to Karofsky. "Do you need help getting a phone? Truthfully I won't answer my phone from unknown numbers. Dani and I are going to Marley's dorm room soon. The main thing we need to figure out is how to spoof NYADAIDs so we can leave campus or find another way out without the authorities on us. I think we need to go back to the Lusus Naturae Protection Committee office." My most dreaded place.

"You were asking for mine." David says, writing it down. He grunts. He gave Kurt the crystal because it was the only way for him to communicate. "Dunno how to use 'em. What's so bad 'bout crystals?" David thought for a while. "Know where to get permissions. Got permits to do magic outside." He says, remembering his lopphole abraxas. "Need one or two?"

"Yeah I did. Not in an indirect way," Kurt smirked with confidence. His smile faded when Karofsky asked him the question. "I don't know how to use the Crystals... and it feels off to me to use something magic like that." Kurt put his hand on Karofsky's bicep. "You keep them. I can use my powers without worrying about getting caught. I might need you to back me up with your magic however we're looking to fight as a last resort. Information first. We need to find out Marley is filed in their system.”

David didn't think it was indirect. "Same with phones." He said. "Feels wrong to get one." He says, thinking about it. "Maybe should get one anyway." Kurt touched him again. "M-mean the NYADA IDs. Can get one where I got my stuff."  David nods. "K. Will do. Find stuff."

Kurt thought of a better one. "Just ask to borrow a friend's phone and call me. You don't have to get a phone because I said so. Thanks. I'll look around the online shops too." Kurt was referring to the black market. Since he and Karofsky were headed the same way, Kurt pointed it out. "Come on, let's go back before campus police is on our ass, and I'd rather not run in these running shoes." Kurt slipped the mask down on his face and walked along Karofsky. 

[alfredosauce50]

Who’s the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader) 11

Wordcount: 2,182 The reader is referred to as she/her

"Allen, get your ass up! We're gonna go shopping!" You shrilled, slapping your hands all over the big lump under the blanket. Ever since you woke up at around eight this morning, the energy coursing through your veins hadn't subsided. That was obviously because you were an early bird unlike Allen and you loved visiting department stores despite never getting the chance to go on a worthwhile shopping spree in them. 

Low groans were muffled against the covers and the man resting under them only rolled around in it to tighten himself in a tighter burrito. "No... 5 more minutes, please..." He mumbled, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. After spending so much of your time with this man, you've come to learn that he loved to sleep in to nearly noon when he didn't have anything planned in the morning. The thought of this bad habit hit you and made you sigh frustratingly. 

When his nest of fiery red hair peeked out and pooled around, you dug your hands in them and gave it a good ruffle. "Al, I'm gonna sit on you and squash you with my fat if you don't get up this instant." You threatened with a taunting smile tugging at your lips. He let out a soft chuckle and with that said, he did not bother to move a single muscle. "Go on, do it." He thought with mischief manifesting onto his features in the form of a smirk. 

Narrowing your eyes with a scowl, you jumped on him and squeezed your limbs around the shape of his body under the blanket. He let out a grunt and feigned hurt. Those noises made in protest silenced when he rolled onto his back, however. As you enveloped yourself around him like a boa constrictor, he snaked two arms around your neck and pulled you close much to your surprise. Noses pressed together and eyes locked, he held you in this intimate position for a few moments forcing you to stare right into his lazy, half-lidded gaze. He turned his head and brushed his lips against your cheek before giving it a light peck. "I'm up, baby." He moved his warm lips against your skin as he spoke, sending chills to shake through every inch of your body from the feeling. You inhaled sharply and bashed him on the head repeatedly. "Let me go, idiot!" You hissed with a little bit of pink tinting your cheeks. He responded by tightening his arms. "Not till you gimme a morning kiss. You know how much I hate waking up early." He whispered with his brows knitted together. You grumbled something under your breath. Darting your eyes over to the clock standing on the bedside table, it read 9:32AM. You grabbed that while carefully avoiding the prickly potted cactus sitting next to it. Holding it in front of his line of vision for a good second, you then hit his head with it. "It's not early, Al. It's half past nine already." He rubbed his forehead. "And that's pretty early for me. It's all about perspective, dollface." He replied, cupping a hand behind your neck. "Now give Allen some sugar." You rolled your eyes at him and sighed in defeat. You couldn't really escape his iron grip and decided to go along with his whims to stop wasting time. You could be already out there shopping for a nice dress, but no, he was still curled up in bed. Leaning in to give his cheek a quick kiss, he released you and smiled contently. Stretching his arms, he screamed to wake himself up. "I'm up!" An hour later after breakfast was served for the late-riser, the two of you jumped into the backseat of Alfred's car to get to the shopping districts of New York. Even though visiting boutiques and shopping in them were new for Allen and you, you were far more enchanted by the products offered than he was. Of course, if you showed him a good place to have a smoke and beer, he would be all over you. That was not the case this time however, so he just found himself following along after you in a shop filled with glamorous and glimmering fancy dresses. Alfred figured that his cousin's suit could wait until last; it would not take as long. Everything inside was well-lit with the chandeliers dangling from the tall ceiling, brightening up the whole expanse of mannequins and gushing women with dancing arrays of light. The air was also laced with a sweet, feminine scent of perfume, filling you with delight at the pleasant smell. The host of the party let out obnoxious laughs as he watched you browse through the store like a child in a candy store. Under those lively explosive laughs hid a sinister smirk inside, something that manifested in his mind because he knew what he was doing was going to win you in his favour. "This party is gonna be a freakin' blast! Just pick whatever you like because you'll look great in anything!" Alfred exclaimed, patting you on the shoulder. You turned to him with a light blush but smiled brightly at him nevertheless. Your chest was swarmed with warmth once more when he flashed you another one of his toothy grins; those million dollar smiles always managed to make your heart flutter. "Thank you again, Alfred. I honestly cannot express how grateful I am." You gleamed. "Haha, no worries dudette! Just as long as we have fun, am I right?" He nudged you in the shoulder. The blonde bent over so that his mouth would be in level with your ear. The indifferent face of Allen's grew alarmed when he spied the movement from the corner of his eye, twisting over to you two with an enlarged vein on his neck. Gritting his teeth and seething through it, a hot fiery trail burned behind his footsteps as he neared his cousin. "I know you haven't experienced a lot of what we're doing together, but I'm happy to be your firsts for all these things." He whispered, his hot breath entering the shell of your ear to send shivers down your spine. Ripping yourself away from him, you slapped him on the shoulder. "What the hell, Alfred?! It sounds weird when you put it like that!" You hissed under burning cheeks, unaware of the third presence who just joined. The man you conversed with did know, however. Allen knitted his brows together and frowned deeply, unable to fathom the anguish boiling inside. He was already furious at what Alfred said to you, but the reaction you gave him tore at him even more. As you continued to slap Alfred around on the shoulders, he flickered his eyes at the onlooker and narrowed them slyly. The redhead just tore his gaze away and walked off, not wanting to stare any longer into those calculating pools of icy blue. He completely avoided Alfred from that moment on. He was unable to bear a second in his presence and instead just kept close to you. The only time he scraped together the will to utter anything to him was when he was purchasing a suit for the night, a quiet word of thanks before he disappeared into the fitting room to change into the formal attire. Slipping off his bomber jacket after giving himself a good look over, he let the rest of his clothes drop to the ground before he slipped on a crisp white dress shirt. He buttoned that up to feel as if he was being choked but kept everything on for the sake of looking good. After he fastened a belt around his pants, he tightened the dark blood red tie around his collar. Once that was done, he needed to stop himself before he reached for the jacket so he could take a good look at himself. Allen pursed his lips and nodded in approval at his hot reflection. "Oh shit." He mouthed. "I look like a hot businessman." Never mind a hot businessman. This man was a lady killer with the jacket on. He threw on the suit jacket to finish the look, but only slowly to savor a pivotal moment in his life where he would be wearing something formal for the first time. As if the whole vicinity was put on mute, his surroundings were plunged into a suspenseful silence as he shot his arms through the armholes. Pulling down on the ends to straighten it up, he brushed the non-existent dust off his shoulders and grimaced at his reflection. "Oh shit yeah, Allen. You lookin' like a fine snack." He gave himself finger guns. He continued to stare at his front profile for a good ten minutes before he started twisting and turning to get a good idea on how he looked from all angles. Every single degree out of 360 earned the Allen seal of approval. Snickering to himself as he enjoyed his little alone time of self-admiration, the playful smirk curling at his lips faded once his visage wandered back to his neglected bomber jacket splayed on a velvety black chair. His gaze fell down to the small mound of clothes at his feet this time, which consisted of his tank top, jeans, and dog tag. He then glanced back up at his reflection and frowned. Unlike before, he was glaring at the clean white shirt and invaluable suit jacket. It wasn't like he looked terrible in it, but he looked terrible in it. This was ridiculous. The infamous street rat wearing high-end fashion? This unprecedented event was thought to be impossible and the fact that it was taking place right here mocked him. He licked his lower lip and shook his head with a sigh, a dark shadow consuming his features the longer he stared at himself. "Fuck Alfred." He growled lowly. He was already suffering enough by living on his turf in a world of luxury, but now he had to wear this? No matter how much he complained, this was bound to happen. Why? It was your love and fascination for all things glamorous and his own tendency to stick to you like glue. Even so, he blamed his cousin for throwing these useless parties and spending his money without a care in the world. Rolling his eyes at the sound of his explosive, obnoxious laugh echoing in his mind, he clamped a hand over his face and rubbed it to relieve some of the emotions of anguish. It was something that he held pent up in his system for the past few weeks and it was driving him on a road to insanity. Clenching his hands over the frame of the mirror, he glowered at himself with a glint of death. "There better be alcohol." *** Allen was already intoxicated with melancholy when he stepped out of the limo that brought the group to the destination. Ignoring the blinding flashes of cameras from paparazzi on the sidelines, he trailed behind the couple that was you and Alfred with not a trace of emotion showing on his exterior. You clung onto the blonde with a dazzling smile at the cameras that tightened on you both. Albeit a little overwhelmed, you felt significant for once. It was a feeling you never experienced before but you came into good terms with it immediately. As Alfred dragged you off to meet all the faces of cooperations who had more money than God, a mountain of sparkling glasses came into Allen's sight. Inside the large hall that had ceilings stretching up to the sky, there sat his only a bit of salvation amidst hundreds of insignificant party-goers. His prayers were answered with alcohol, and a hell of a lot of it. Gallons upon gallons of champagne drew him to the long table of refreshments to where he gawked at with delight. Liquid gold it was in its finest form. He didn't hesitate to start chugging the supply of drinks offered to the guests and was slowly exhausting all beverages. In exchange for everything he consumed, his logic and coordination were swapped for impaired vision and judgment. Collapsing into a nearby chair with his face flushed bright pink, he was knocked out cold after consuming more than ten pints of it. He was given weird looks because of it, but the spotlight soon moved onto a small group of finely dressed men with their faces hidden under dark masquerade masks near the entrance. "Sirs, this is not a masquerade party. May I kindly ask you to take them off as a security precaution?" One of the burly guards asked. The shortest one of the group peeled his mask off to reveal piercing magenta eyes. Pulling a Beretta out of his pocket, he cocked it and trained it in between the man's eyes enlarged with shock. "How's this for a security precaution?" He growled, his finger pulling the trigger. Blood splattered onto the wall behind as an ear-splitting explosion echoed throughout the grand hall.

[shawnsorangeglasses]

Love’s Camisado - (bartender!shawn au)

.i’m enjoying the idea of Shawn being a bartender (i guess that’s his second job now idk i dig it) nobody asked for this but  🎶i don’t care🎶 3.3k words

warnings: some strong language, drinking, minor fluff at the end, and a guy who can’t hear “no”

...

Dina was still getting over a breakup that’s had her stuck in this weird state of depression for about a week now. So I called her on Friday and said we were going out on Saturday, deliberately eliminating no as an option. My homework was finished and I was ahead of schedule for once and I figured this is as good a time as any to leave my dorm for once. Fully intending on staying sober for the night, I put on the most casual outfit I could find and start packing supplies.

I almost look like a soccer mom, waiting for Dina to show up at the club doors. I had a drawstring bag full of baby wipes, snacks, water, a spare case of makeup, band-aids, some ibuprofen for her potential hangover, and whatever I normally carry every day. This is a list I’ve made over years of knowing Dina and her nightly habits. The usual pattern is she’ll get drunk off her ass and either I’ll take her home or she’ll go home with whichever guy or girl and I’ll rescue her tomorrow morning.

Our region was starting catch wind of some colder weather so I decide to drive to the bar. I didn’t wear anything more than a pair of leggings, t-shirt, and a denim jacket. She meets me just outside the doors of the Lotus Pool club around 7:00 PM. This is where most college students come on the weekend. My muted outfit bears a striking contrast to Dina’s glittery green cocktail dress. Business is perfectly slow at this time so we get in without a problem. It’s only when the sun goes down that a line starts to form.

Once inside, I immediately scan the room for Shawn, our favorite bartender. He’s also going to college with us but this is where we always come to see him on the weekend. I guess I’d call him a friend, but this is kind of the only place we really interact other than the few times I see him on campus. We went to the same high school but our circles never crossed.

He’s alternating between serving the few regulars and tidying up the behind the bar when we walk in. Dina and I quietly sneak  while his back is turned. “Shawn!,” we both shout and he turns with a start. His face slowly melts into a warm smile when he realizes it’s just us.

“Hi ladies,” he says sheepishly. “You both look lovely. How are you holding up Dina?”

“Better,” Dina says with a sigh. “I didn’t need Tess anyway. I’m finding myself a new squeeze tonight, count on it. Can I have the strongest, fruitiest drink you know how to make? Surprise me.”

“Of course, honey,” He takes a red bottle from the shelf then turns to me. “Are you having anything tonight (Y/N)?”

“No sir, I am driving. But thank you anyways.” Shawn nods and continues to make Dina’s drink. She’s such a lightweight, she’s tipsy within minutes. Soon, people start to roll in and situate themselves at the bar, forming a decent crowd. There aren’t a lot of students out tonight as midterm exams are just around the corner.

“If there’s any way I can help in tonight’s quest for love, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Shawn says before heading off to serve his next patron.

A few hours go by and I’m watching the room carefully from the comfort of my bar stool. Dina’s gone off to mingle so Shawn makes conversation with me whenever he can, sometimes even while he’s mixing.

At one point he asks me, “When are you gonna find yourself a “squeeze,’ (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know. I’m not actively searching for anything but I’m sending every offer away either. The thing is I’m not getting any offers.”

“You know it might help to actually go outside more,” he teases me. “That’s where all the people are.

“Don’t come for me, Mendes. I go out. Sometimes.”

He gives me a side eye while topping off another tray of shots. “Going to and from class doesn’t count.”

Some guy suddenly comes up and sits right next to me, despite the abundance of empty stools and single girls at the bar. “Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, I’m driving home tonight,” I say firmly.

He briefly touches my leg. “Come on, one drink won’t hurt.” I tense up.

“Dude, I told you I’m driving. I’m not having a drink.” I search down the line for Shawn. He’s busy with about three other people’s drinks at the moment but briefly makes eye contact.

“Well can I at least get your name?,” he asks. “I feel like I’ve seen you around campus.”

“(Y/N),” I say carefully, as if my name is made of glass.

“Wow, that’s beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he says with a toothy grin. He’s cute I guess, but he’s frat boy cute, and that’s suspicious. They have quite the reputation around here. “What are you doing after this?,” he asks, scooting closer.

He’s not even listening to me. “I just told you I’m driving. Home probably.” Something tells me not to include Dina in this conversation. I then remember to check for her. She’s in a booth, seemingly cozied up with what seems like a nice girl.

“What do I have to do to get you to come home with me?”

Before he can lay another weak-ass line on me, Shawn appears. “Hey man, can I get you anything?,” he asks, quite aggressively.

The guy immediately says no and fades away into the crowd. I turn to Shawn, eyes wide and mouth agape. He raises his eyebrows at me in response.

“Did you see that shit?,” I yell over the noise.

“I did. I was trying to get back over here. Do you want me to have him removed?”

“No, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Shawn purses his lips at me and leans in closer. “I know ‘fine’ is girls’ code word for ‘not fine,’ (Y/N).”

“I mean it this time. He’s not worth the trouble, honest.”

He checks his watch, “Well my break starts now. I think I’ll sit and talk with you. Maybe deflect some more creeps.”

Shawn makes his way around the bar, a tiny carton of peanuts in hand, and sits next to me. He smells great as usual. Like soap and high-end cologne. We somehow end up back on the topic of my love life again. This time I switch it up on him.

“You know you’re always telling me how I need a date. What about you?,” I ask.

“I’m busy here and at school,” he squeaks defensively. “I don’t have the time or social skills to get a girlfriend right now.”

“Maybe in theory. All I’m saying is it shouldn’t be that hard for someone who looks the way you look.”

“Ever think that it’s maybe because I already have my eye on someone?”

“Really?” He nods, but it’s a solemn one. “Why so sad? Have you talked to her?”

He slips another peanut past his lips. “Yeah, but she doesn’t feel that way towards me.” The way he tilts his head allows a few errant curls to fall into his eye.

“Who wouldn’t feel that way about you Shawn? Look at you!” He actually has the audacity to laugh while shaking his head. There’s no doubt he’s a dreamboat with his brains and impossible good looks. All the girls on campus fawn over him.

“By that logic, it makes no sense for you to be single either,” he shoots back. I try to think of something witty to say before he can see me blush but I can’t and just go back to shelling my peanut.

“Exactly! It takes a little more than being hot, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever, Mendes. You always say embarrassing things like that. Whoever this girl is, I say you should just go ahead and shoot your shot.”

“Yeah right. I think I’d rather be shot.” I choke on my peanut.

“I don’t get it. What do you have to lose?”

That familiar grin extends across his face, amused at my lack of understanding. He simply says, “Probably everything.”

Shawn’s break ends and he’s back behind the bar again. I continue to talk to him though after most of the people there reach their legal limit and he has to slow down consumption. We spend most of the night people-watching together.

Just as I thought, that girl Dina was previously curled up with ended up becoming her impromptu date for the night. She meets me at the bar again around 11:20 and introduces her to me. I swear at first glance they seem perfect for each other, unlike when she was with Tess.

“This is Cristina,” she says with a little slur on her speech. “Rhymes with Dina. She also did not consume the alcohols tonight, so she will be driving me home.”

“I was here on an assignment,” said a clearly not drunk Cristina. She held up a tiny sketchbook. “Had to draw a nightclub scenery.” She’s a very gorgeous girl, with a periwinkle colored pixie cut and big brown eyes. Definitely Dina’s type.

“Oh okay, well it’s nice to meet you Cristina,” I say with a shake of her hand. “I think you’ll like Dina. She’s just as charismatic when she’s sober.” I turn back to Dina. “Hey, look at me. Call me when you get home. Okay?” She holds two thumbs up in front of her goofy grin.

I walk them out and say goodnight, reminding Dina to call me for a second time and thanking Cristina again for driving her. I make my way back inside and across the now thinning dance floor and back over to the bar. Shawn’s polishing glasses when I meet his eyes with mine again.

“I think Dina’s taken care of for the night,” I say as I sit back down.

“I never saw that guy leave,” he says. His serious tone catches my attention. “Are you going to be okay getting home?”

“Um,” I look around the bar. Frat boy isn’t anywhere in sight. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Well listen, my shift is over in like ten minutes. Can you wait until then so I can walk you to your car?”

“Sure. Let me just freshen up real quick.”

I make beeline for the women’s restroom and find myself strangely on edge the moment I enter. Empty beer bottles and cans litter the countertop. I take a quick look at myself in the mirror, making a few adjustments to my hair. Then the stall behind me opens up. That guy from earlier steps out, clearly sloshed with the most disgusting smirk on his face. “Thought I’d find you in here sooner or later, beautiful.”

He gets close enough to grab my wrist, definitely bruising it and tries to kiss me. I instantly snatch one of the beer bottles left in here and smash it against the countertop, quickly making a weapon. He lets me go, leaving my wrist red and sore. I’m panting like a wild animal.

Shawn comes barreling in seconds later I assume because he heard the glass breaking. He looks more than stressed. “Are you okay?,” he huffs.

“Never been better,” I say, never taking my eyes off frat boy.

The worry in his eyes swiftly turns to rage when he recognizes the guy from earlier. “Dude, just fucking leave,” says Shawn. “Don’t bother coming back here either.”

The guy slinks past him and out the door. I drop the bottle, feeling my body start to shake all over. My hands grip onto the sink for, desperate for stability. Shawn rushes to my side and wraps his arms around me. I’ve never hugged him before but this better than I imagined it. “I’m definitely taking you home. There’s no way in hell.”

“S-sorry about the mess,” I stammer. My chest feels unbelievably tight and I have to push him back just to breathe. His hands never leave my skin.

“Don’t worry I can get it cleaned up tomorrow on my morning shift. Let’s just get back to the dorms.”

Shawn is quick to get me back to my dorm room. The whole car ride there is short and quiet. Never having been in Shawn’s jeep, I take this chance to learn a little more about him. It’s cluttered, but clean. I can see some clothes is the back seat and a few schoolbooks on the floor. As we get closer to my building I fish my key card out of my pocket. He parks as close as possible to the door and he’s about to open his door before he realizes I still haven’t moved yet.

“You okay?,” he asks. That’s when the tears start to fall and I have to turn away so he can’t see. Then one loud sniffle makes it very obvious that I’m crying.

Shawn reaches over the console, embracing me again. I feel stupid for crying on his white sweater like this. “It’s okay,” he mumbles into my hair. “I wish I’d caught him go in there. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

“No you’re always paying attention. It’s not your fault.” I pull away first, feeling more than embarrassed now. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t say that. You protected yourself. Rather impressively, might I add. We can go report him tonight if you want.”

“I don’t even know his name. No, I just want to go to sleep.” I open my door and step out. Shawn follows closely behind as I approach the dormitory entrance. We take a beat, standing out there in the cool evening air. I check the time on my phone and it’s almost curfew. My hands are still shaking. Shawn casts his 6′3″ shadow over me and takes my cold hands into his large warm ones. His thumb traces circles over the bruise that was now forming on my wrist. I slowly started to feel okay again. More than okay actually.

“S’okay, relax. You’re safe now. God, I just-- are you going to be okay staying here tonight? Maybe you should go home.” He knows that my roommates have all gone home this weekend.

“No. My mom will just have questions and I don’t want her to worry or storm the campus tomorrow.”

Shawn’s about to scan his keycard when I stop him again. “Actually, could you stay with me? Just for tonight.”

His eyes widen a little, “You sure?”

I swallow hard. “I feel like he might know where I live.”

We take the elevator up to my floor in comfortable silence. When we reach my room I get a text from Dina.

[ im in love gn ]

I smile and show Shawn. “At least one of us is having a good night,” I murmur then unlock my door.

I head directly towards my room, kicking my shoes off, slipping out of my jacket, and flopping face down on my bed. I hear the soft thud of Shawn’s boots stop at my doorway. “I guess I’ll take the couch. You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pillow would you?”

“No,” I say patting the space next to me. “Just come lay right here.”

He moves with reluctance and sits down like the the bed will crumble underneath him. Then he lays down with even more caution, scooting closer until our noses are a only few inches apart. His legs still hang off the bed.

I roll onto my side. “You still smell like peanuts,” I whisper.

“So do you,” he whispers back.

My eyes wander around Shawn’s face this being the first time I’ve actually seen him this close. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy before. That divot in his right cheek is more prominent in this proximity. I gently brush at it with my thumb.

“Shaving accident when I was little,” his mumbles.

“Of course.”

“Can I tell you something,” he blurts. I pull my hand away from his face. “You remember when I was telling you about that girl I liked?”

“You don’t have to tell me who she is.”

“I do if that girl is you.”

I wait for him to say “nah I’m kidding,” like he always does when he says something sarcastic or even remotely flirty. When he doesn’t, I prop myself up on my elbows. “Are you being serious right now?”

“A hundred percent, being serious right now.”

I’m honestly paralyzed. No one’s ever told me that before and meant it. My mind goes completely blank.

“Don’t just stare at me like that (Y/N),” he says, snapping me out of it. “You gotta say something.”

“What do I even say? I never came to terms with how I feel about you. I-- I gave up on that a long time ago.”

Shawn sits up so we’re at eye level again. Even while laying down, he’s still so much larger than me. I feel small in my own bed. His eyes catch a glint of the moonlight coming in through my window as they wander around my face only to settle on my mouth. “Okay, well, how do you feel right now?”

“Right now?” I allow his lips to steal my attention for a second. “Right now I feel like kissing you.”

“Are you waiting for an invitation?”

“Are you?”

He leans in, beckoning me to come closer. I meet him halfway, touching my nose to his. Shawn’s lips brush onto mine and it feels like an electric current is buzzing through my entire body, melting me from the inside out. I close my eyes just as his warm mouth gently presses into mine. Every inch of my skin heightens in sensitivity making me jump a little when Shawn puts his fingers on my neck. He’s slow and soft at first, but gradually gets hungrier as we go on, moving his hand to my waist to pull me closer until I’m practically on top of him. His thigh breaks the space between mine causing my hips to accidentally buck a little. The smile he makes against my lips lets me know he noticed.

It was like a movie, probably better, and I can feel myself slowly start to lose control. His tongue pushes past my lips and massages the threshold of my mouth tentatively. I dig my nails into the fabric of his shirt on his sides. This must do something to make him moan and that sound alone nearly pushes me over the edge. I pull away, hot and panicked. My arms are so numb I struggle to even sit up at first.

“A-are you okay,” Shawn asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, everything’s fine.” I cover my face. “I just felt a little out of control.”

Shawn inhales sharply and runs his hand through his hair then settles it on the back of his neck. “Should I go?”

“No! I mean no, I’m okay. Maybe we should stop this though, just for now.”

He bites his lip again but something feels different about watching him do it this time as opposed to the many other times I’ve seen him bite his lip. Maybe it’s how unkempt his hair looks now. I nibble at the inside of my cheek to bring myself back down to Earth.

“Well you asked me to keep you company for tonight. I still intend on doing that if you want me to.”

I do want him to stay, but not just for the original reasons anymore. We lay back down on my bed again, comfortably uncomfortable in this new atmosphere between us. The expression on his face is so tranquil. He looks younger in this light. I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks the longer I look at him. I switch my attention to my duvet. Shawn’s arms reach out to pull me into his chest, engulfing me in muscles and the scent of high-end cologne. I’ve never slept so soundly before.

[laurelsalexis]

Your writing is great, can I request 3 for falice, pls?

send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble

#3. Please don’t leave | read on ao3

The sound of the gunshot isn’t as foreign as F.P. would like. His biggest fear in getting Fangs out of there and it came true, all too easily. He can only huff as the sound of yelling is all around him, eyes on Archie and Reggie with the gun, turning to see the blood pooling in Fangs stomach. Jughead is yelling and Sweet Pea looks like he’s about to kill someone, Toni up at Fangs’ head with a fury and worry all her own.  

His hand winds up on Fangs’ stomach, putting pressure on the wound, attempting to stop the blood. They need to get him to the hospital and worry about everything else later. He’s sure that Hiram’s appointed Sheriff won’t do anything and the only ones that actually seem concerned with Fangs are those wearing Serpent jackets.  

God, he’s hated the mob mentality in that fucking town since he was their age, before that even. Coming from the Southside has never done him any favors. It hasn’t changed and now he’s got a bleeding kid who looked scared before the gunshot even hit him. A kid that is his responsibility and look how far that gets him.

“Dad.” Jughead pleads, sharp yet frightened. Still a kid no matter how he might have seemed with the Serpents since the mess began. 

It’s a sound that pulls him completely. “We have to take him to the hospital.” He stands, instructing the boys to help him. One arm ends up around him, pushing Fangs’ weight onto him, and letting Jughead stand on the other side.  

There’s no mistaking the looks between Sweet Pea and Toni, that silent conversation that he’s been able to read since he met them. He grabs Sweet Pea’s wrist as he tries to move away.  

“Don’t.” It’s a command.  

“He shot Fangs. I’m not gonna stand here.” Sweet Pea stares at him, the anger impossible to miss, yanking his arm back.

F.P. knows that without a doubt and he hear the moan that Fangs make. He leans towards him and places his hand on stomach and can feel the way the blood just pools in his hand. He doesn’t have time to police Sweet Pea and most of him doesn’t even want to. Not after everything. “Don’t kill him and don’t get yourself arrested. I’m not having this happen to you, too.” 

“You got it.“  

Sweet Pea disappears into the crowd of people as he and Jughead struggle to actually get Fangs out of there. Luckily, for once in the past few months, the hospital isn’t that far and they can get him there. The crowds have dispersed ever since the gunshot went off and a few of the deputies who aren’t corrupt as fuck are actually managing to do something. It’s not on his mind as he and Jughead struggle to move through the door and to someone who knows what they’re actually doing.  

“What happened?” One of the nurses asks. 

“He was shot.” Jughead replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  

“In the stomach.” F.P. adds. 

“Name?” 

“Fangs Forgarty.“  

The nurse nods as she calls one of the other nurses over so they can take Fangs from them. 

“You're gonna be alright.” F.P. whispers into Fangs’ ear before he’s gone and takes a step back.  

The waiting room is filled with people and their Serpent jackets aren’t exactly gaining them any sympathy. Everyone thinks they know what Fangs did but he didn’t kill Midge. F.P. knows it without even needing to ask it. Not Fangs. He knows a few within the gang who would be capable of murder, but Fangs isn’t one of them.

He takes a seat one of the dumb plastic chairs, letting out a breath, closing his eyes. He has blood all over him. His hands, his shirt, even his jacket that he’ll need to make sure to scrub out eventually. The jacket has seen worse and really, he isn’t even complaining. Not when everything went so far to shit so quickly. He’s worried about everything.

It’s war. 

It was war the moment they arrested Fangs but it’s even worse now. That bullet sealed the deal and he should have forced Sweet Pea and Toni to come with them, but he didn’t. Rather he allowed them to go off and he’s worried. Worried about them like he’s worried about Fangs. At least Jughead is there. He’s not losing his son, another son, even.

Jughead takes a seat next to him, twirling his phone in his hand, letting out a heavy breath. 

“You going to call Betty?” 

“I don’t know.“  

“Call her.” F.P. suggests, knowing that it’ll make him feel better. “Let her know you’re okay.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Jughead gets up and walks to where there is some semblance of privacy and calls Betty. 

F.P. leans his head against the wall and settles his hands on his lap. He’s tired. That’s the only way to describe it. He hasn’t really allowed himself to process or breathe. He feels like he’s holding his breath ever since he saw Alice. He hasn’t spoken to her. She doesn’t reach out to him so he doesn’t reach out to her. He’s seen less of Betty as Jughead focuses more on the Serpents so it all feels as if it’s the way it’s meant to be.  

There are no excuses he can make to seek her out without things crossing into territories it shouldn’t. It’s something he can accept given how long he’d went prior without speaking to her. It won’t be another twenty-five years and that’s about as much comfort as he has.

Comfort he needs when he hurts so much more than he can even explain. He’s struggling to process everything. Fangs is only the latest casualty and he’s angry. So angry. He’s having trouble controlling it and knows it’s a slippery slope but he hasn’t had a drink so he’s made it that far. He really wishes he had a fucking drink in his hand. 

Jughead plops down next to him once again. “She didn’t answer.” 

F.P. nods, looking over at his son. He looks a little worse for wear but he’s alive. 

“What are we going to do?” Jughead whispers, putting his phone in his pocket.

“Call her back later.” 

“Dad.” 

He doesn’t have a good answer. Not when he doesn’t know if Fangs is even going to make it through the next hour. “We’re going to sit here for a bit.” He tells him. He just needs to sit and process for a moment before they make any grand plans. The wheels in his son’s head are probably already turning but those plans are ran on emotion. Like whatever Sweet Pea is doing is on emotion.

He can’t afford that. He needs to think logically and try to get themselves out of the mess they are in. Such a damn mess. 

That lasts twenty minutes before Jughead needs to do something. That something involves pacing that ends up driving F.P. up the damn wall. He punches the bridge of his nose as he tries his best to not scold his worried son.  

“I’m going to go walk around. Get something to eat.” 

“Good idea.” 

F.P. folds his arms across his chest. He should at least wash the blood off of him but he doesn’t bother. Rather, he just finds himself comfortable. As comfortable as he can be within the hospital waiting room. He’s going to wait for an update and decide what to do from there. 

It’s only when the sound of heels on the tile that fill the room that he even bothers to open his eyes. 

Alice.  

She’s a sight for sore eyes but it doesn’t make him feel better. She had recently. Seeing her was a highlight for him, but as he sits in the chair he isn’t happy. He’s upset and resentful, but understanding. It’s a complicated mix of emotions that he doesn’t know what to do with and doesn’t even want to do anything with them.  

“F.P.” She greets in the Alice tone that is definitely the one married to Hal.  

“Alice.” He looks up at her but doesn’t move from where he is. “And what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“I am here in a reporter capacity.” 

F.P. scoffs. “Bullshit.“  

“Don’t make this difficult.” It’s a softer plead, the pain clear in her voice. Not even Alice can mask everything.

F.P. doesn’t look at her and rather, he shakes his head. He unfolds his arms as he sits up a little more proper in the chair. 

“You’re covered in blood.” Alice murmurs with a frown. Her purse rests on a chair and she sits down next to him, a little too close, angling her body towards him. 

He turns to look at her, features soft, unable to help himself. Something about Alice just makes him melt. It annoys him but he would not have it any other way. “It’s not mine.” 

She reaches out and takes his hand in her own, inspecting him, from face to hands, before looking at him in the eyes. “It could have been.” 

“It could have been any of us.” F.P. shrugs and is just glad it wasn’t worse. Not yet, at least. “It still might be."  

"Where’s Jughead?” 

“Stress eating."  

Her hand raises up to his cheek, brushing against him. He flinches in pain he didn’t know was there. "How bad?” 

“You’ll live.” She tells him, not letting go of the small contact. Even if people there can definitely see them. 

“Everything is shit.” F.P. says after a few moments of just staring at her. He needs to break the silence and not fall into something neither of them are capable of handling at the moment. 

Alice pulls back and settles her hands in her lap. She focuses on everything but him. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” There’s an instinct in him to comfort her. He wants to. There is so much he wants to say and ignore the own way his heart aches. He wants to hold her and tell her it’s okay. Everything will be okay. That some actions do not define them. He does not of that. Rather he keeps to himself, looking down at his bloodied hands. They’ll talk when the time is right but that’s not now, not when everything around them is chaos. From the Serpents to the Black Hood. “Things good with Hal?” 

“Yeah.” She nods, still not looking at him. “My family is back together.” 

“Good.” He means it but doesn’t mean it. “I’m happy for you Alice.” 

They fall into a silence that is heavy. It’s loaded with so much that is unspoken but neither move to break it. Rather they sit next to each other in a waiting room that only empties further. It’s them with a few other people. Mostly it’s just nurses walking in and out. Never having an update on Fangs. 

It’s causes the anxiety and tension in F.P. to only rise. 

“So, can I get a quote?” 

“So you can trash the Serpents in the Register? When did you even go back?” F.P. tries not to sound as accusatory as he does. Clearly showing how much he fails.

“It was Betty’s idea.” Alice replies simply. “I won’t trash you. I am on your side, F.P.” 

“No, you’re not.” He whispers, turning to her, shaking his head. “You’re not. Publish your article, do what you want, write what you want, and stay in that miserable excuse of a marriage. You can’t be half a Serpent and you have always made your choice.” He swallows, pausing for just a moment. “I don’t mean it to be cruel but you made your choice. You went back to Hal. I can’t have you here.”

“Are we really going to do this now?”

F.P. stands, straightening his jacket, looking down at her. Deep down he knows he’ll do anything for her but right now, he can’t. Not when everything is spiraling out of control. He doesn’t have time to sit there and worry about her, them. “No, we’re not.” He turns to leave. Not that he actually takes a step, rather he swallows back all his emotion. He does his best to breath, running his hands over his face, biting down on his lip. 

“Please,” she whispers, “don’t leave.” 

It’s the words he has wanted to hear for so long. He turns, enough so he can look at her. “You’re quote. Uh,” he pauses, taking his gaze off of her, “I don’t know. The Northside is the true problem in this town and has been since it’s creation. If Fangs dies it’s on them.” 

“F.P.” She stands and takes a step towards him. “Please.” 

“Goodbye, Alice.” It takes everything in him to say that. He turns around and pulls is phone out of his pocket to call Joaquin as he walks away just so he doesn’t let himself go back to her.

[tk-duveraun]

23. Maybe the power couple on a double date with Iseran and Will? ^^ (only if you and Ela are okay with that of course!)

Sorry Iseran is so wet. He’s had a long day and is so far out of his depth he’s practically on the moon and oh William is just so nice to look at, isn’t he?

Iseran checked the time on his mobile again, but he was still early. He was waiting outside of the hospital’s main entrance. The original plan had been for Iseran to just ride with Fox after their shift, but he’d been called in for an emergency overnight and then took the day off, so Iseran was now waiting for William to pick him up. His cheeks flushed and he quickly patted them, trying to will the blush away and Oh Creators, bad phrasing, no.

He never should have agreed to the early dinner with Fox’s friends. Surely they all thought he was some ridiculous, money-blinded fool from the way he’d stuttered and stammered at the last get together, but it wasn’t the money or the posh accents or the nice clothes, no, it was just that William Trevelyan- Iseran brutally slaughtered the thought and prayed that the ground would swallow him up and save him from the dinner.

Just as he was debating claiming fatigue, a polished, black Tesla drove up. Iseran tried not to look starstruck as William stepped out. He said hello and reached for a friendly handshake and felt his very soul leave his body when William went in for the friendly back pat that was too familiar, but oh so not as familiar as Iseran wanted.

It was ridiculous. He wasn’t some silly teenager. He was trained, professional, medical doctor who had completed his residency and- Had best be listening, he’s talking.

“Great to see you again. I hope I didn’t make you wait too long,” William said, flashing his white teeth when he smiled.

“Of- Of course not. Just got out. Thank you again.” Oh Creators, I’m still holding his hand. What is wrong with me? Why am I like this? Iseran released William’s hand and nervously fiddled with his sleeves, though they were already rolled up to his elbows.

The movement catch William’s attention. “Oh, where’s your jacket?”

Iseran froze and mechanically looked up to meet William’s eyes. It wasn’t cold. He was just in his trousers and lavender button up - the one Fox said complimented his complexion. Not that he was trying to impress anyone, but it was his nicest shirt. He hadn’t wanted to stick out too glaringly at the dinner. “Jacket..?”

“Oof, the maitre’d might not let you in without one,” William said. He walked around and opened the boot of his car, but Iseran couldn’t really pay attention to that.

Iseran had gone completely cold. Maitre’d? Not let him in? What kind of high class place were they going to? He was still paying off his student loans. He’d never be able to afford a cup of tea, let alone an entreé. What had Fox been thinking? Iseran felt faint. At least not having a jacket was about to get him out of it, even though he was surely going to die of shame. As he was scrambling for an excuse to somehow escape with as much grace as possible, William walked back around his car holding up… a grey suit jacket.

Iseran blinked owlishly at it as William held it up to his shoulder. Who had an extra suit jacket just… in the boot of their car? As he pulled it on to test the fit, Iseran had even more questions. William was significantly taller than him. The jacket surely couldn’t be his. And just coincidentally the correct color?

So overwhelmed with questions and confusion, Iseran didn’t even realize William had stowed his backpack in the backseat and was ready to head to the restaurant until he was standing holding the passenger door for Iseran. “Are you alright? If you’re too tired, I can just take you home.”

“What? Oh, no, no. I’m fine, thank you. Bit of a long day, but I’d hate to disappoint everyone,” Iseran said. He cursed himself out in the quiet of his mind for not taking the opportunity to leave before he embarrassed himself with being unable to pay, but it was too late. He was driving through Kirkwall’s Hightown in the passenger seat of an expensive car with a stunningly kind and beautiful man who just happened to have extra suit jackets several sizes too small in his boot.

How he managed to make polite smalltalk, Iseran didn’t know for sure, but he was half certain it was just William’s own charm sustaining them both. Oh, but he was infatuated and would never, ever forgive Fox for introducing him to someone so impossibly out of reach.

The maitre’d did stared menacingly at Iseran, despite the jacket, and he wanted to sink into the floor again, but William’s large, warm hand was on the back of his shoulder and he couldn’t move away from it.

“Dr. Tasefa is here with me. Surely Lord Sa’alle is expecting us,” William said. It was the first time his voice had been anything but warm and kind, and though it was still polite, there was a hard edge that brokered no questions.

Iseran was internally glowing so much that he didn’t register that there were only four seats total at Fox’s table until he was seated across from William at an intimately small table complete with candles and a vase with two fresh roses in the center. And then there was Ela, Fox’s radiant girlfriend, staring at him with stars in her eyes after just the briefest of hellos to Iseran and William. She looks like she’s on a date. This entire thing is… Oh. Oh.

Hesitantly, Iseran met William’s eyes, trying to gauge if the other man realized what the atmosphere implied. William was scanning the menu with polite curiosity, but eventually looked up from it to meet Iseran’s eyes. And then he simply beamed at Iseran, whose heart skipped two beats.

“I recommend just going with the chef’s special, but if you have a picky stomach anything is good,” William said. He just looked so at home among the finery, surely he thought Iseran didn’t belong.

“Right, of course, yes, thank you,” Iseran said. There were no prices on the menu. I am going to be destitute after tonight, but happily so.

“Oh, before I forget, Iseran, can you check and see if you got my email? It’s about the rota for next week. Terribly important, please pardon our rudeness,” Fox said.

Ela fumbled in surprised and dropped her own mobile on the table before guiltly shoving it back in her purse. “Oh, of course, it’s fine.”

William laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Elashorei, no one will say an unkind word to you here. Too refined to do such a thing as complain. They might talk behind their hands later, but Fox has pulled far larger stunts than having a lovely date use her mobile at the table.”

Iseran forced a chuckle out and pulled out his mobile to check his email. The message in question had nothing to do with the next week’s rota.

Sorry! I forgot you wouldn’t know what kind of place this is. I hope it’s not too much. Don’t worry about anything - it’s all going on my family’s tab.

Well, that almost allayed some of his worries. He stowed his mobile and gave William another uncertain smile. He tried to put his thoughts into some semblance of order. The situation was… awkward. Fox and Ela having their date and inviting two near strangers along, but Iseran was going to make the best of it. Yes. He would not make a fool of himself and then later he and William could laugh over how ridiculous their friend was and maybe they could be friends. Right. That would work.

“That’s a nice jacket you’re wearing, Iseran,” Ela said.

“Oh! Um, thank you. It’s not mine. I- I’m not sure why, but William had it in the boot of his car.”

“…What?” Ela asked. She leaned in, as if she couldn’t believe it. She looked between William and Iseran a few times. “Why in the world would he have a jacket in your size in his car? Does he just… keep a bunch of them around? Why though?”

“I-I-”

“What are you talking about?” Fox asked. “I’ve a few jackets in my boot, too.”

“Exactly!” William said, pointing at Fox. “Who doesn’t?”

“Who-Who doesn’t? You two are completely mad,” Iseran said.

“Thank you!” Ela said. “Thank the Creators for you, Iseran. I don’t think I could have handled this double-date with three of them.” She gestured to Fox and William with her menu, but Iseran’s brain had shut down.

Double…date? He glanced at William, expecting to see the horror he felt reflected on the other man’s face, but William just gave him an uncertain smile. Iseran was still trying to interpret it when he felt a large, warm hand gently squeeze his knee under the table.

Oh. Oh.

[gaysparklepires]

13. Killer

If it was anyone but Jacob, I thought to myself, shaking my head as I drove down the forest-lined highway to La Push.

I still wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing, but I’d made a compromise with myself.

I couldn’t condone what Jacob and his friends, his pack, were doing. I understood now what he’d said last night—that I might not want to see him again—and I could have called him as he’d suggested, but that felt cowardly. I owed him a face-to-face conversation, at least. I would tell him to his face that I didn’t know how to overlook what was going on. I didn’t know how to be friends with a killer and say nothing, let the killing continue… That would make me a monster, too.

But I couldn’t not warn him, either. I had to do what I could to protect him.

I pulled up to the Blacks’ house with my lips pressed together into a hard line. It was bad enough that my best friend was a werewolf. Did he have to be a monster, too?

The house was dark, no lights in the windows, but I didn’t care if I woke them. My fist thudded against the front door with fervent energy; the sound reverberated through the walls.

“Come in,” I heard Billy call after a minute, and a light flicked on.

I twisted the knob; it was unlocked. Billy was leaning around an open doorway just off the little kitchen, a bathrobe around his shoulders, not in his chair yet. When he saw who it was, his eyes widened briefly, and then his face turned stoic.

“Well, good morning, Beau. What are you doing up so early?”

“Hey, Billy. I need to talk to Jake—where is he?”

“Um… I don’t really know,” he lied, straight faced.

“Do you know what Charlie is doing this morning?” I demanded, frustrated by the stalling.

“Should I?”

“He and half the other men in town are all out in the woods with guns, hunting giant wolves.”

Billy’s expression flickered, and then went blank.

“So I’d like to talk to Jake about that, if you don’t mind,” I continued.

Billy pursed his lips for a long moment. “I’d bet he’s still asleep,” he finally said, nodding toward the tiny hallway off the front room. “He’s out late a lot these days. Kid needs his rest—probably you shouldn’t wake him.”

“It’s my turn,” I muttered under my breath as I stalked to the hallway. Billy sighed.

Jacob’s tiny closet of a room was the only door in the yard-long hallway. I didn’t bother to knock. I threw the door open; it slammed against the wall with a bang.

Jacob—still wearing just the same black cut-off sweats he’d worn last night—was stretched diagonall across the double bed that took up all of his room but a few inches around the edges. Even on a slant, it wasn’t long enough; his feet hung off the one end and his head off the other. He was fast asleep, snoring lightly with his mouth hanging open. The sound of the door hadn’t even made him twitch.

His face was peaceful with deep sleep, all the angry lines smoothed out. There were circles under his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. Despite his ridiculous size, he looked very young now, and very wear, and very much like my Jacob.

I started to step back out of the room, but I paused and looked down at Jacob’s face. I couldn’t stop myself from moving closer to him. I reached out my hand and ran it through his shorn hair. My hand gently caressed his face; this one the face I knew, the face I missed. I sighed, slowly turned, and walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind me.

“I think I’ll let him get some rest.”

Billy nodded, and then we gazed at each other for a minute. I was dying to ask him about his part in this. What did he think of what his son had become? But I knew how he’d supported Sam from the very beginning, and so I supposed the murders must not bother him. How he justified that to himself I couldn’t imagine.

I could see many questions for me in his dark eyes, but he didn’t voice them either.

“Look,” I said breaking the loud silence. “I’ll be down at the beach for a while. When he wakes up, tell him I’m waiting for him, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” Billy agreed.

I wondered if he really would. Well, if he didn’t, I’d tried, right?

I drove down to First Beach and parked in the empty dirt lot. It was still dark—the gloomy predawn of a cloudy day—and when I cut the headlights it was hard to see. I had to let my eyes adjust before I could find the path that led through the tall hedge of weeds. It was colder here, with the wind whipping off the black water, and I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my winter jacket. At least the rain had stopped.

I paced down the beach toward the north seawall. I couldn’t see St. James or the other islands, just the vague shape of the water’s edge. I picked my way carefully across the rocks, watching out for driftwood that might trip me.

I found what I was looking for before I realized I was looking for it. It materialized out of the gloom when it was just a few feet away: a long bone-white driftwood tree stranded deep on the rocks. The roots twisted up at the seaward end, like a hundred brittle tentacles. I couldn’t be sure that it was the same tree where Jacob and I had had our first conversation—a conversation that had begun many different, tangled threads of my life—but it seemed to be in about the same place. I sat down where I’d sat before, and stared out across the invisible sea.

Seeing Jacob like that—innocent and vulnerable in sleep—had stolen all my revulsion, dissolved all my anger. I still couldn’t turn a blind eye to what was happening, like Billy seemed to, but I couldn’t comdemn Jacob for it either. Love didn’t work that way, I decided. Once you cared about a person, it was impossible to be logical about them anymore. Jacob was still my friend, he was still my Jacob, whether he killed people or not. And I didn’t know what I was going to do about that.

When I pictured him sleeping so peacefully, I felt an overpowering urge to protect him. Completely illogical.

Illogical or not, I brooded over the memory of his face, trying to come up with some answer, some way to shelter him, while the sky slowly turned gray.

“Hi, Beau.”

Jacob’s voice came from the darkness and made me jump. It was soft, almost shy, but I’d been expecting some forewarning from the noisy rocks, and so it still startled me. I could see his silhouette against the coming sunrise—it looked enormous.

“Jake?”

He stoked several paces away, shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

“Billy told me you came by—didn’t take you very long, did it? I knew you could figured it out.”

“Yeah, I remember the story now,” I whispered.

It was quiet for a long moment and, thought it was still too dark to see well, my skin prickled as if his eyes were searching my face. There must have been enough light for him to read my expression, because when he spoke again, his voice was suddenly acidic.

“You could have just called,” he said harshly.

I nodded. “I know.”

Jacob started pacing along the rocks. If I listened very hard, I could hear the gentle brush of his feet on the rocks behind the sound of the waves. The rocks had clattered like castanets for me.

“Why did you come?” he demanded, not halting his angry stride.

“I thought it would be better face-to-face.”

He snorted. “Oh, much better.”

“Jacob, I have to warn you—“

“About the rangers and the hunters? Don’t worry about it. We already know.”

“Don’t worry about it?” I demanded in disbelief. “Jake, they’ve got guns! They’re setting traps and offering rewards and—“

“We can take care of ourselves,” he growled, still pacing. “They’re not going to catch anything. They’re only making it more difficult—they’ll start disappearing soon enough, too.”

Jake!” I hissed.

“What? It’s just a face.”

My voice was shaky with disbelief. “How can you… feel tht way? You know these people. Charlie’s out there!” The thought made my stomach twist.

He came to an abrupt stop. “What more can we do?” he retorted.

The sun turned the clouds a silvery pink above us. I could see his expression now; it was angry, frustrated, betrayed.

“Could you… well, just… I don’t know, not be a… werewolf?” I asked in a whisper.

He threw his hands up in the air. “Like I have a choice about it!” he shouted. “And how would that help anything if you’re worried about people disappearing?”

“I don’t understand.”

He glared at me, his eyes narrowing and his mouth twisting into a snarl. “You know what makes me so mad I could just spit?”

I flinched away from his hostile expression. He seemed to be waiting for an answer, so I shook my head.

“You’re such a hyprocrite, Beau—there you sit, terrified of me! How is that fair?” His hands shook with anger.

“Hypocrite? How does being afraid of a monster make me a hypocrite?” I regretted the words as soon as I said them.

“Ugh!” he groaned, pressing his trembling fists to his temples and squeezing his eyes shut. “Would you listen to yourself?”

“What?”

He took two steps toward me, leaning over me and glaring with fury. “Well, I’m so sorry that I can’t be the right kind of monster for you, Beau. I guess I’m just not as great as a bloodsucker, am I?”

I jumped to my feet and glared back, my own emotions getting the better of me. “No, you’re not!” I shouted. “It’s not what you are, stupid, it’s what you do!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He roared, his entire frame quivering with rage.

I was taken aback by his anger, by the intensity behind his fury. I knew I couldn’t push him any farther. I had to calm him down.

“Jacob,” I pleaded, making my tonesoft and even. “Is it really necessary to kill people, Jacob? Isn’t there some other way? I mean, if vampires can find a way to survive without murdering people, couldn’t you find a way, too?”

He straightened up with a jerk, like my words had sent an electric shock through him. His eyebrows shot up and his eyes stared wide.

“Killing people?” he demanded.

“What did you think we were talking about?”

He wasn’t trembling anymore. He looked at me with half-hopeful disbelief. “I thought were were talking about your disgust for werewolves.”

“No, Jake, no. It’s not that you’re a… wolf. That’s fine,” I promised him, and I knew as I said the words that I mean them. I really didn’t care if he turned into a big wolf—he was still Jacob—my Jacob. “If you could just find a way not to hurt people… that’s all that upsets me. These are innocent people, Jake, people like Charlie, and I can’t just look the other way while you—“

“Is that all? Really?’ he interrupted me, a smile breaking across his face. “You’re just scared because I’m a murderer? That’s the only reason?”

“Isn’t that reason enough?”

He started to laugh.

“Jacob Black, this is so not funny!”

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, still chortling.

He took one long stride and caught me in another vice-tight bear hug.

“You really, honestly don’t mind that I morph into a giant dog?” he asked, his voice joyful in my ear.

“No,” I gasped. “Can’t—breathe—Jake!”

he let me go, but took both my hands. “I’m not a killer, Beau.”

I studied his face, and it was clear that this was the truth. Relief pulsed through me.

“Really?” I asked.

“Really,” he promised solemnly.

I threw my arms around him. The joy I felt was incomprehensible. Jacob wasn’t a murderer, Jacob wasn’t a monster. I felt a sense of relief I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Jacob gently stroked my hair and I sighed deeply.

“Sorry I called you a hypocrite,” he apologized.

“Sorry I called you a murderer.”

He laughed.

I thought of something then, and pulled away from him so that I could see his face. My eyebrows furrowed in anxiety. “What about Sam? And the others?”

He shook his head, smiling like a huge burden had been removed from his shoulders. “Of course not. Don’t you remember what we call ourselves?”

The memory was clear—I’d just been thinking of that very day. “Protectors?”

“Exactly.”

“But I don’t understand. What’s happening in the woods? The missing hikers, the blood?”

His face was serious, worried at once. “We’re trying to do our Job, Beau. We’re trying to protect them, but we’re always just a little too late.”

“Protect them from what? Is there really a bear out there, too?”

“Beau, we only protect people from one thing—our one enemy. It’s the reason we exist—because they do.”

I stared at him blankly for one second before I understood. Then the blood drained from my face and a thin, wordless cry of horror broke through my lips.

He nodded. “I thought you, of all people, would realize what was really going on.”

“Laurent,” I whispered. “He’s still here.”

Jacob blinked twice, and clocked his head to one side. “Who’s Laurent?”

I tried to sort out the chaos in my head so that I could answer. “You know—you saw him in the meadow. You were there…” The words came out in a wondering tone as it all sunk in. “You were there, and you kept him from killing me….”

“Oh, the black-haired leech?” He grinned, a tight, fierce grin. “Was that his name?”

I shuddered. “What were you thinking?” I whispered. “He could have killed you! Jake, you don’t realize how dangerous—“

Another laugh interrupted me. “Beau, one lone vampire isn’t much of a problem for a pack as big as ours. It was so easy, it was hardly even fun!”

“What was so easy?”

“Killing the bloodsucker who was going to kill you. Now, I don’t count that towards the whole murder thing,” he added quickly. “Vampires don’t count as people.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “You… killed Laurent?”

He nodded. “Well, it was a group effort,” he qualified.

“Laurent is dead?” I whispered, more to myself than him.

His expression changed. “You’re not upset about that, are you? He was going to kill you—he was going for the kill, Beau, we were sure of that before we attacked. You know that, right?”

“I know that. Of course, of course. And I’m grateful, really. I’m not upset—I’m…” I had to sit down. I stumbled back a step until I felt the driftwood against my calves, and then sank down onto it. “Laurent is dead. He’s not coming back for me.”

“You’re not mad? He wasn’t one of your friends or anything, was he?”

“My friend?” I stared up at him, confused and dizzy with relief. “No, Jake. I’m so… so relieved. I thought he was going to find me—I’ve been waiting for him every night, just hoping that he’d stop with me and leave Charlie alone. I’ve been so frightened, Jacob…. But how? He was a vampire! How did you kill him? He was so strong, so hard, like marble….”

He sat down next to me and put one big arm around me comfortingly. I instinctively leaned into him. “It’s what we’re made for, Beau. We’re strong, too. I wish you would have told me that you were so afraid. You didn’t need to be.”

“You weren’t around,” I mumbled, sadly.

“Oh, right.”

“Wait, Jake—I thought you knew, though. Last night, you said it wasn’t safe for you to be in my room. I thought you knew that a vampire might be coming. Isn’t that what you were talking about?”

He looked confused for a minute, and then he ducked his head. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then why didn’t you think it was safe for you there?”

He looked at me with guilt-ridden eyes. “I didn’t say it wasn’t safe for me. I was thinking of you.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked down and kicked a rock. “There’s more than one reason I’m not supposed to be around you, Beau. I wasn’t supposed to tell you our secret, for one thing, but the other part is that it’s not safe for you. If I get too mad… too upset… you might get hurt.”

I thought about that carefully. “When you were mad before… When I was yelling at you… and you were shaking…?”

“Yeah.” His face dropped evne lower. “That was pretty stupid of me. I have to keep a better hold on myself. I swore I wasn’t going to get mad, no matter what you said to me. But… I just got so upset that I was going to lose you… that you couldn’t deal with what I am…”

The irony of Jacob’s words weren’t lost on me. I’d had a conversation like this before. A small part of me was laughing inside; another boy who had to control himself around me for my own safety. One boy who could lose control and eat me and another boy who could lose control and…What?

“What would happen… if you got too mad?” I asked.

“I’d turn into a wolf,” he whispered.

“You don’t need a full moon?”

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Hollywood’s version doesn’t get much right.”

I chuckled darkly. Another conversation I’d had before. I didn’t know what to think, how to feel. Jacob was searching my face, trying to read my expression. He must not have liked it because he sighed, and was serious again. “You don’t need to be so stressed out, Beau. We’re going to take care of this. And we’re keeping a special eye on Charlie and the others—we won’t let anything happen to him. Trust me on that.”

Something very, very obvious, something I should have grasped at once—but I’d been so distracted by the idea of Jacob and his friends fighting with Laurent, with the déjà vu of the situation, that I’d completely missed it at the time—occurred to me only then, when Jacob used present tesnse again.

We’re going to take care of this.

“Laurent is dead,” I said the words and my entire body went ice cold.

“Beau?” Jacob asked anxiously, touching my ashen cheek.

“If Laurent died… a week ago… then someone else is killing people now.”

Jacob nodded; his teeth clenched together, and he spoke through them. “There were two of them. They kept meeting up and figured they must have been mates. We thought the mate would want to fight us—in our stories, they usually get pretty pissed off if you kill their mate—but he just keeps running away, and then coming back again. If we could figure out what he was after, it would be easier to take him down. Be he makes no sense. He keeps dancing around the edges, like he’s testing our defenses, looking for a way in—but in where? Where does he want to go? Sam thinks he’s trying to separate us, so he’ll have a better chance….”

His voice faded until it sounded like it was coming through a long tunnel; I couldn’t make out the individual words anymore. My forehead dewed with sweat and my stomach rolled like I had the stomach flu again. Exactly like I had the flu.

I turned away form him quickly, and leaned over the tree trunk. My body convulsed with useless heaves, my empty stomach contracting with horrified nausea, though there was nothing in it to expel.

Victor was here. Looking for me. Killing strangers in the woods. The woods where Charlie was searching…

My head spun sickeningly.

Jacob’s hands caught my shoulders—kept me from sliding forward onto the rocks. I could feel his hot breath on my cheek. “Beau! What’s wrong?”

“Victor,” I gasped as soon as I could catch my breath around the nauseous spasms.

A flood of memories came rushing back and I shivered involuntarily. I felt weak and dizzy with panick. My breathing becoming erratic.

I felt Jacob pull me up from my slump. He draped me across his lap, laying my limp head against his shoulder. He held me tightly, brushing my hair from my forhead.

“Who?” Jacob asked. “Can you hear me, Beau? Beau?”

I tried to concentrate on Jacob’s breathing, tried to force my own spastic breathing to match his.

“He wasn’t Laurent’s mate,” I shuddered into his shoulder. “They were just old friends….”

“Do you need some water? A doctor? Tell me what to do,” he demanded, frantic.

“I’m not sick—I’m scared,” I explained in a whisper. The word scared didn’t really seem to cover it.

Jacob rubbed my back. “Scared of Victor?”

I nodded, shuddering.

“Victor is the red-haired male?”

I trembled again, and tried to breathe deeply, “Yes.”

“How do you know he wasn’t the black-haired one’s mate?”

“Laurent told me James was his mate,” I explained, automatically flexing the hand with the scar.

He pulled my face around, holding it steady in his big hand. He stared intently into my eyes. “Did he tell you anything else, Beau? This is important. Do you know what the red-head wants?”

“Of course,” I whispered. “He wants me.”

His eyes flipped wide, then narrowed into slits. “Why?” he demanded.

“Edward killed James,” I whispered. Jacob held me tighter. “Victor did get… pissed off. But Laurent said Victor thought it was fairer to kill me than Edward. Mate for mate. He didn’t know—still doesn’t know, I guess—that…” I sighed. “Well, that things aren’t like that with us anymore.”

Jacob was distracted by that, his face torn between several different expressions. “Is that what happened? Why the Cullens left?”

“He lied. Edward, I mean. It wasn’t everything he said he wanted. I wasn’t everything he said he wanted. I guess I was just a distraction,” I explained, shrugging.

Something like a growl—not a real growl, just a human approximation—rumbled in Jacob’s chest under my ear. “If that idiot bloodsucker is honestly stupid enough—“

“Please,” I squeezed Jacob’s muscular forearm. “Jake, don’t.”

Jacob hesitated, then nodded once.

“This is important,” he said again, his face all business now. “This is exactly what we needed to know. We’ve got to tell the others right away.”

He stood, pulling me to my feet. He kept two hands on my waist until he was sure I wasn’t going to fall.

My breathing had become more regular. “I’m okay.”

He traded his hold on my waist for one of my hands. “Let’s go.”

He pulled me back toward the truck.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. “I’ll call a meeting. Hey, wait here for just a minute, okay?” He leaned me against the side of the truck and released my hand.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll be right back,” he promised. Then he turned and sprinted through the parking lot, across the road, and into the bordering forest. He flitted into the trees, swift and sleek as a deer.

“Jacob!’ I called after him, but he was already gone.

It was not a good time to be left alone. Seconds after Jacob was out of my sight, I was starting to hyperventilate again. I forced myself to stay focus and climbed into the cab of the truck. I mashed the locks down at once. It didn’t make me feel any better.

Victor was already hunting me. It was just luck that he hadn’t found me yet—just luck and five teenage werewolves. I had to laugh, darkly, even then. Still, no matter what Jacob said, the thought of him coming anywhere close to Victor was horrifying. I didn’t care what he could turn into. I could see Victor in my head, his face wild, his hair like flames, deadly, indestructible….

But, according to Jacob, Laurent was gone. Was that really possible? Edward had told me how difficult it was to kill a vampire. Only another vampire could do the job. Yet Jake said this was what werewolves were made for…

He said they were keeping a special eye on Charlie—that I should trust the werewolves to keep my father safe. How could I trust that? None of us were safe! Jacob the very least of all, if he was trying to put himself between Victor and Charlie… between Victor and me.

I felt like I was about to hyperventilate again. I desperately scanned the tree-line looking for Jacob. After what felt like ages, but was probably only a few minutes, he reappeared among the trees. He was walking like he had just put his shoes on, trying to get them to fit right, and tugging up the waistband of his cut-off sweats.

By the time he got to the truck and climbed in, the expression on my face must have alerted him to my current emotions.

“You’re really scared, aren’t you?” He frowned.

I nodded.

“Don’t be. We’ll take care of you—and Charlie, too. I promise.”

“It’s not just that, Jake. The idea of you finding Victor… Of you being in danger,” I trailed off.

He laughed. “You’ve got to have a little more confidence in us than that. It’s insulting.”

I shook my head. “I’ve seen too many vampires in action, Jacob.”

He clenched his jaw and remained silent. I decided to change the subject.

“Where did you go just now?” I asked.

His jaw clenched harder.

“What? Is it a secret?”

He frowned. “Not really. It’s kind of weird, though. I don’t want to freak you out.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m sort of used to werid by this point.” I managed to smile.

Jacob grinned back easily. “Guess you’d have to be. Okay. See, when we’re wolves, we can… hear each other.”

I raised a confused eyebrow.

“Not hear sounds,” he went on, “but we can hear… thoughts—each other’s anyway—no matter how far away from each other we are. It really helps when we hunt, but it’s a big pain otherwise. It’s embarrassing—having no secrets like that. Freaky, eh?”

“Is that what you meant last night, when you said you would tell them you’d seen me, even though you didn’t want to?”

“You’re quick.”

“I try.”

“You’re also very good with weird. I thought that would bother you.”

“It’s not… well, you’re not the first person I’ve known who could do that. So it doesn’t seem weird to me.”

“Really?... Wait—are you talking about your bloodsuckers?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call them that.”

He laughed. “Okay. The Cullens, then?”

“Just Edward.” I sighed.

Jacob looked surprised—unpleasantly so. “I thought those were just stories. I’ve heard legends about vampires who could do… extra stuff, but I thought that was just a myth.”

“Is anything just a myth anymore?” I asked him wryly.

He scowled. “Guess not. Okay, we’re going to meet Sam and the others at the place where we go to ride our bikes.”

I started the truck and headed back up the road.

“So did you just turn into a wolf now, to talk to Sam?” I asked, curious.

Jacob nodded, seeming embarrassed. “I kept it real short—I tried not to think about you so they wouldn’t know what was going on. I was afraid Sam would tell me I couldn’t bring you.”

“That wouldn’t have stopped me.” I couldn’t get rid of my perception of Sam as the bad guy. My teeth clenched together whenever I heard his name.

“Well, it would have stopped me,” Jacob said, morose now. “Remember how I couldn’t finish my sentences last night? How I couldn’t just tell you the whole story?”

“Yeah. You looked like you were choking on something.”

He chuckled darkly. “Close enough. Sam told me I couldn’t tell you. He’s… the head of the pack, you know. He’s the Alpha. When he tells us to do something, or not to do something—when he really means it, well, we can’t just ignore him.”

“Weird,” I muttered.

“Very,” he agreed. “It’s kind of a wolf thing.”

“What do werewolves have against free-will?”

Jacob laughed at that. “There’s a load of stuff like that—wolf things. I’m still learning. I can’t imagine what it was like for Sam, trying to deal with it alone. It sucks bad enough to go through it with a whole pack for support.”

“Sam was alone?”

“Yeah.” Jacob’s voice lowered. “When I… changed, it was the most… horrible, the most terrifying thing I’ve ever been through—worse than anything I could have imagined. But I wasn’t alone—there were the voices there, in my head, telling me what had happened and what I had to do. That kept me from losing my mind, I think. But Sam…” He shook his head. “Sam had no help.”

This was going to take some adjusting. When Jacob explained it like that, it was hard not to feel compassion for Sam. I had to reminding myself that there was no reason to hate him anymore.

“Will they be angry that I’m with you?” I asked.

He made a face. “Probably.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t—“

“No, it’s okay,” he assured me. “You know a ton of things that can help us. It’s not like you’re just some ignorant human. You’re like a… I don’t know, spy or something. You’ve been behind enemy lines.”

I frowned to myself. Was that what Jacob would want from me? Insider information to help them destroy their enemies? I wasn’t a a spy, I wasn’t something to be used. Again.

But I wanted him to stop Victor, didn’t I?

No.

I did want Victor to be stopped, preferably before he tortured me to death or ran into Charlie or killed another stranger. I just didn’t want Jacob to be the one to stop him, or rather to try. I didn’t want Jacob within a hundred miles of him.

“Like the stuff about the mind-reading bloodsucker,” he continued, oblivious to my reverie. “That’s the kind of thing we need to know about. That really sucks that those stories are ture. It makes everything more complicated. Hey, do you think this Victor can do anything special?”

“I don’t think so,” I thought about it, and then sighed. “He would have mentioned it.”

“He? Oh, you mean Edward—oops, sorry. I forgot. You like to talk about him.”

“Not really, no.” I admitted.

“Sorry.”

“How do you know me so well, Jacob? Sometimes it’s like you can read my mind.”

“Naw. I just pay attention.”

Was it really that simple? Somehow, in the time we had spent together, I had almost felt like Jacob knew me better than Edward ever had. Edward had asked question after question, trying to learn every minute detail about me. Jacob didn’t probe, he didn’t question. He just observed. He just knew me.

We had reached the little dirt road where Jacob had first taught me to ride the motorcycle.

“This good?” I asked.

“Sure, sure.”

I pulled over and cut the engine.

“You’re still unhappy, aren’t you?” he murmured.

I thought about it, and nodded. “I suppose.”

“Did you ever think… that maybe… you’re better off?”

I inhaled slowly, and then let my breath out. “Maybe.”

“Cause he wasn’t the best—“ Jacob cut himself off. He shifted slightly in his seat.

“Maybe he wasn’t.” I offered. “I don’t know. It’s… It’s just hard.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I said anything.”

“Don’t feel bad. Normally I don’t think I would mind as much finally talking about it. Just letting it all out and really talking about it.” I looked over at him. “But I just don’t know if I can.”

His eyes met mine and he nodded. “I understand. I had a hard time keeping a secret from you for two weeks. It must be hell to not be able to talk to anyone.”

“Hell,” I agreed.

Jacob sucked in a sharp breath. “They’re here. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure?” I asked while he popped his door open. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

“They’ll deal with it,” he said, and then he grinned. “Who’s afraid of the big, bad wolf?”

“Oh, god,” I rolled my eyes at him. I got out of the truck, hurrying around to the front end to stand close beside Jacob. I remembered only too clearly the giant monsters in the meadow. My hands were trembling like Jacob’s had been before, but with fear rather than rage. I reached for Jacob’s hand and held it tightly.

He gently squeezed my hand back. “Here we go.”

Table of Contents

[athleisure-aesthetic]

This is a long post because I went on a few rants, but there are workouts and stuff in there, I promise ;) stay tuned for commentary on vanity sizing and non-scale victories!

April 13 Thursday’s workout was super speedy. Legs and a quick stretching NTC workout. I meant to do curtsy lunges to finish it out, but I was crunched for time and my legs were already burning from the seasaw lunges and step-ups because my bench was higher than a normal one would be. I always get kind of frustrated when my NTC workout ends up being a lowkey stretching one, because I use it to replace cardio for the day. I’m starting to think I should either do more than one or just do cardio anyway. At least I got in a nice half hour walk at lunch; it was much colder than I was expecting since the rest of this week has been so nice! Still pretty out tho. And my skull shirt is badass. The end.

Went to Whole Foods with Ani when I got home to get some goodies for the weekend, and really stuck to my list (which I was proud of, bc that store is a literal TRAP) which included chocolate milk as a post-workout fuel… ASK ME HOW HYPE I AM TO START DRINKING CHOCO MILK AGAIN!!! (very. obviously.) Also started growing a mini protein bar collection because now I’m terrified of not properly fueling post-workout, so now I’m going to have very little excuse not to, since these babies are extremely portable. Just throw one in ya workout bag, and there you go. Don’t even have to remember to get it from my lunch box. I’m finally trying RXBAR and a few Quest Bar flavors (shoutout to @runningwhilenotdying for the suggestion, ty girl!) for now, in addition to the Luna Protein bars I still have. Still going to have to try a few to find out which works best for me.

Legs / butt workout 3x each 15 reps weighted glute bridges, 10# 15 reps goblet squats, 10# 20 reps step ups, alt. sides, 10# 20 reps seasaw lunges, alt. sides 15 reps weighted lying leg curls, 6# 40 s wall sits 10 reps burpee + high jump alternating leg swing stretches instead of curtsy lunges bc I’m a wimpy bitch lol

Listening to: “Under You” by Nick Jonas

April 14 Today is the day John Mayer’s full album is out, something I realized halfway through Friday morning while working from home, so I blasted the FUCK out of it in my apartment and haven’t stopped listening since. Ani took the day off, so it was just me at home designing, which is literally what I wish every work day of my life could be. Making my own schedule, eating and working out whenever I want and not having to worry about when I’m going to finish, not having to talk to people lol.

I decided to workout around 11ish and had to do arms / upper body without weights, which was a bit challenging considering my weak wrists and lack of free weights. BUT I made it, and my wrists weren’t ded afterwards, so I guess I’m building up some strength? Plus check out my schweaty knees, aren’t they purty? It was a dec workout, so hype it. HOWEVER, in the middle of my last set, this awful ringing started in my apartment, which I identified as the fire alarm after panicking for like 2 seconds. Then there was this weirdo announcement in our hallway as if we were in a damn dorm, saying to evacuate asap so I was like o fuck ok let me get my things. Ran outside with my purse and a jacket, ran into the woman who legit hates me and Ani for being loud on the weekend two whole times (fuck her tho it was a Friday and Saturday at like 11pm get your panties out of your ass amirite) and she was like idk what’s going on I’m probably not going downstairs. I was like ????? um if there’s a fire I’m not dying so bye. So I ran down 8 flights of stairs to find no one in the lobby. Sick. It was a false. Alarm. Bc they’re doing construction right in front of the elevators. Motherfuckers. So I had to go back up 8 flights of stairs once I got the approval from the doorman. Thx for the cardio break, how’d you know I needed that? 🙄 Finished my set, worked for a bit longer, then showered and decided I was done working for the day lol.

It was pay day and I was bored so I kinda went a little nuts on a shopping trip. As usual, I mostly bought athleisure, buuuuuuuuuuut there are some significant things about this shopping trip that I must share.

1: I willingly purchased two pairs of athletic shorts. I do not wear anything but leggings to workout in, because I hate the way my legs look, and I usually feel much more mobile and flexible in leggings, even if it’s like 90 degrees out and July. But I tried on two pairs of black shorts, and could actually see myself not only wearing them like to bed, but like… doing active things in them, and being ok with seeing my legs. First #NONSCALEVICTORY o the day.

2: I not only willingly tried on a one piece bathing suit, I tried on two, AND I purchased one. Every person alive knows too well the personal torture of trying on bathing suits, especially in dressing rooms that have awful fluorescent lighting that does not flatter anyone. But for some reason I was in a good mood about my bod (perhaps after the shorts win), so I grabbed two suits and said to myself, fuck it, don’t feel bad about yourself, but do not get your hopes up. This could go great, or it could not. Don’t let this be a reflection of how hard you’ve been working. It might just not fit, that’s not your fault. BUT THEY BOTH FIT REALLY DECENTLY OK. The one was like bright red and v scandalous and tbh I did not have the boobs to fill out that sucker. So despite it fitting ok, I couldn’t go with it. But the other was stripey and rouchey and pretty comfortable, so I was like welp. I need at least one suit for the summer, and can’t picture myself using any of the ones from last summer, and I don’t feel like total crap in this. So. I bought it!

3: I purchased at least one thing of every size (S, M, L, and XL), which proves that sizing is fake and literally doesn’t fucking matter. I like all my tops a little baggy and all of my bottoms tight (except those shorts I ended up getting, but who knew I would even buy shorts…). That’s just my personal preference style-wise. I went to four different stores, and ended up getting clothing that fit me, but when I was ripping the tags off when I got home, I noticed that all the sizes were different. I bought a shirt from Uniqlo (AMAZING STORE, btw, never been before today) that was a size small, which is something I haven’t done in like literally maybe 7-8 years. I also bought a cropped sweatshirt from Marshall’s in XL, even though I thought it was a large when I bought it. Either way, it’s not like my body morphed mid-shopping trip. I was the same size all day, but the stores decided I was all over the place. This just makes me a, hate the fashion industry for forcing this imaginary 00 system and ideals of size-shaming on us, but also b, feel better about myself because I know that I can’t be reliant on just being one size. I used to think of my weightloss in terms of pants sizes. Like last Friday when I was wearing actual pants, they were 12s. But like. A 12 at one store could be a 16 at another, or an 8. I used to say, oh I just want to be down to a consistent 8. That would be the perfect amount of weight to lose. If I get there, I’ll know that I’m good. But I’m really starting to see that that number and that size doesn’t exist. There is no universe in which an 8 at every store will fit the same. So judging yourself on a system that’s literally impossible to fit into is just a recipe for hurt and shame. So now I’m just gonna grab any size that looks like it’ll fit. It’s still not fun to see a higher number, but that’s going to be a mindset I have to get myself out of, and this post is proof that it doesn’t matter. I want to base my happiness with my fitness on phyiscal progress: what I can DO with my body, not just how it looks in the clothes I inevitably have to wear. But today, for a few reasons, I felt really good, and I’m proud to have seen not only one, but a few non-scale wins. Hype it the FUCK up.

Whew. That was a lot, sorry. I almost feel like a doing a ~haul~ like I’m on some fashion youtube channel, I bought so many fun things. But whatever, I doubt anyone cares about that except me lolol.

Honestly sometimes I think I just like to buy some things because I’m happy they fit me, not because I need them or are in love with them. Is that weird? I feel like I’m a pretty specific shape (very short and curvy, but not curvy everywhere), so when I find something I actually think fits me, I usually just say, yeah I’ll wear this. I definitely am spending too much money that way, but it’s nice to feel like a lot of things are fitting me well for once.

Arms / upper body workout 3x each 20 reps shoulder taps, alt. sides 10 reps pushups 20 reps walk outs + twist, alt. sides 10 reps tricep dips 50 reps arm circles forward 50 reps arm circles backward 20 reps lat pull downs + shoulder squeeze 35s, 40s, 45s plank 10 reps decline push ups 10 reps burpee + high jump + 5 jumping jacks PLUS 8 flights of stairs when my fucking fire alarm went off and the elevator didn’t work 🙃

Listening to: “Burlesque” by Christina Aguilera OR the Voices in Your Head a cappella version, both are fun

April 15 I was hella nervous for my run today; 6 miles seemed like a lot to me, and after last week’s long run on the treadmill, it had been a while since I’d done a long one outside. The last time I finished a long run outside, I felt like death. So this time I wanted to be really prepared; I read some articles and youtube videos on how to run longer without like dying, and made sure to focus on my breathing and warmup. Once I left my apartment, I didn’t start my timed run for about 10ish minutes but still ran slow to get my legs ready. Then I did some of the moves from the videos, and set off. Today I went towards the art museum and Kelly Drive for the first time, which was definitely busy for a Saturday morning, but it was kinda gray out and mid-50s which is like perfect running weather. I felt really good for like literally the whole run, and I couldn’t tell if it was the new place, good music, or what, but I was surprised at how quickly the miles came and went. I stopped at 4.56 miles to take the picture in front of the art museum, walked briskly up the hill to the building, then ran the rest of the way on the rest of the Schuykill River Trail and back towards home. I finished a little ways away from home and was inspired by a boy who seemed to be blind or albino who was running with a small leash with a girl, and continued jogging all the way home. So I really totalled something like 7.10 miles and they felt GREAT which is INSANE for me. Like that’s so many miles. And I haven’t run that far in so long, and they actually felt GOOD??? Like who am I?

I rewarded myself with a cinnamon roll protein shake, a little more shopping (I ended up getting the black Nike Tanjuns for anyone who saw my post last night lol), and Chick-Fil-A nuggets for lunch. Was considering making this day a cheat day when I saw the Chick-Fil-A, but I was good and only got the nuggets. My resolve was tested when I saw a girl with a Rita’s cup right when I got home and I wanted to be like OMG GIRL WHERE IS THERE A RITA’s AROUND HERE???!??! But clearly I held myself back.

Guess that means more Easter chocolate for me tomorrow hayyyyyy

6.02 mi 10'20" min / mi

Listening to: “Hair” by Little Mix

[softedgeworth]

Surrender the Land

Oneshot of a canon divergence from the 1001 times AU of  @matsuorka . Word of God says it’ll never happen, so, enjoy this narumitsu pocket universe. You can find it here on AO3. My thanks to matsuorka for letting me share in her story adventure, being ever enthusiastic and supportive, and for letting me touch her stuff.

Characters: Phoenix Wright, Miles Edgeworth

Summary: “I suppose that friends should expect to know about things that are significant to each others’ lives, things that shaped their lives.” He looked to the fire, the ceiling, the priceless art on the walls, anywhere but to his friend standing silhouetted by the fireplace. (Words: 2,681)

It started one evening as they sat beside the fireplace.

Phoenix had appeared in the cold spring dusk to knock on Edgeworth's door. Edgeworth opened it to the monochrome purple twilight outside, and Phoenix with his arms crossed against the chill on his doorstep.

"It's me again!" said Wright in that corny absurd way which made Edgeworth want to snicker. Instead, he rolled his eyes and fought down his smile. "Is now a good time to visit?"

Edgeworth regarded him, and stepped aside to let him in. "Wright, of course I knew it was you. That was why we agreed upon the knock, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," he answered, coming inside. He uncrossed his arms and took off his jacket as Edgeworth closed and locked the door again. "It's nippy here in the evening, isn't it?"

Edgeworth was accustomed to these inane comments of Wright's, his statements that didn't really make sense or serve any purpose. Wright had told him they were called 'small talk' in the slang of the future. Though he disliked the pointless exchange of information, he also had to admit that it was pleasant.

"Winter's cold still hasn't surrendered the land," Edgeworth said. "And you never seem to dress sensibly enough for your travels."

The two made more small talk as they went over to the hearth and took their comfortable places. Edgeworth slipped the book he'd been reading into the pile on the side table, and added another log to the fire. When he was done, Wright moved his chair closer to the fireplace, facing it at an angle.

Edgeworth stood at the center of the hearth, making sure the log would take. Wright stood behind his chair, waiting for Edgeworth to move so he could sit. Phoenix studied the sight of Edgeworth gazing into the fire, eyes calm and elegant, his immortal face still.

Edgeworth glanced over to him, then back to the fire. "Ah, my apologies. Excuse me." He stepped aside.

"Sorry, it's okay." Phoenix went around the chair, closer to Edgeworth, and put a hand on his shoulder as he moved past him to sit down.

Edgeworth froze at the touch, and couldn't seem to produce a single coherent thought in the long seconds it was there. When Wright's hand was gone, Edgeworth felt its absence. His mind was uncharacteristically blank as Wright warmed those same hands by the fire and sighed happily.

"Unfortunately, chamomile tea is all I have at the moment," said Edgeworth finally. "Would you still like some?"

Wright looked up to him and smiled. "That would be perfect, thank you."

"Please move that chair back when you're done," he said over his shoulder as he left.

With the space between them and a task at hand, Edgeworth was able to recover himself by the time he returned with his tea tray. Once he'd poured their cups, they talked per usual about the time from which Phoenix had come--a distant place, with what seemed like a riotous variation of people and strange, impossible inventions with functions Edgeworth could just barely conceive.

This evening, they got on the topic of personal accessories. Wright explained all the variety of purses and bags, that everyday hats and gloves had fallen out of fashion (which Edgeworth considered an unfortunate development), improvements to eyeglasses and contacts (barbaric and genius, Edgeworth decided), types of makeup and nail polish, how people cared for their skin and hair. He was explaining how men would buy products to restore their hair loss when he burst out laughing.

"Wright, what is it? I know our conversations usually tend to the substantive, but it is not that ridiculous to learn of personal grooming and care of the future."

"No, no, it's not that." Wright laughed a little more, then looked to Edgeworth with his laughing grin. "I told you I am a lawyer, yes?"

"Correct."

"Well, this one time…" he snickered at the memory. "Sometimes, older men cannot get their hair to grow back no matter what kind of product they try. So some of them wear false hair called a toupee which blends with their remaining natural hair, or covers it, which is smaller than a wig. I had a witness who wore one that was glued on."

"Gracious. I did not think wigs would last based upon what you've told me, however… Glue? My word."

"You might imagine it's very hard to maintain. Well--" He laughed to himself again. Edgeworth sipped his tea.

"My witness was not a good person. He was in fact the true murderer. When I found him out in trial, he ripped off his toupee and threw it across the courtroom. It hit me right in the face!"

There was a coughing splutter from behind Edgeworth's tea cup, and then, the most beautiful sound--Edgeworth laughing.

Hands dripping, he set the teacup and saucer down on the tray and picked up a napkin to dry his hands. He rested his right elbow on his crossed knee and continued laughing, hiding his face behind his hand with the napkin in it. Across from him, Phoenix continued to laugh as well, but softer, listening to the miracle that was this solemn, wearied man's laughter.

"Oh gosh, Edgeworth I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to spit out your tea!" said Phoenix after a few moments of that wonderful sound. He set his own tea down and stood to give Edgeworth the rest of the napkins from the tea tray.

His host took them, still laughing but now softly under his breath. "Thank you, Wright," he said, and looked up to the time traveler.

Their eyes met, and it was Phoenix's turn to pause. Humor still sparkled in Edgeworth's grey eyes, and he was captivated by their ancient richness--like moonlit clouds passing swiftly on the wind across the starry sky.

Edgeworth took the napkins gently and without looking. Their hands brushed. Neither could seem to manage to look away.

"What is it?" asked Edgeworth.

"You're… I…" Phoenix tore his eyes away, and they lowered with difficulty down Edgeworth's face and neck to his chest. "Oh, your jabot!"

"My…? Ah." Edgeworth looked down to his white jabot, which had been spattered with the faint golden drops of tea. He began daubing at the white cloth with a napkin, but from his angle, it was difficult to see how he was doing.

Phoenix watched him try, feeling badly. "Maybe it'll be easier if you took it off? I could try to clean it then while you get the water."

Edgeworth paused, then lowered his hands. "No, that's quite all right. I will simply change it for another one."

"Oh, it's okay, you don't need to go get another. It's fine if you dress more casually with me." Wright gestured to his own clothes, which were fairly casual by the standard of the time he was now in. "I never wear a vest or button my jacket or anything…" He trailed off.

Edgeworth was still, a fixed expression creeping onto his face. Phoenix could feel his tension. The emotion Edgeworth had shown so far this evening in his laughter had been unusual already, but this tightness, perhaps even fear, was just as exceptional.

Phoenix was used to the subdued expressions of his friend, and had seen for himself just how much control Edgeworth required to remain as stoic when emotion sometimes welled inside him. But this was nothing like those times. Edgeworth usually recovered quickly in those situations, yet here under his studied, neutral expression, he was struggling.

"Um… it's--"

"Not to worry," said Edgeworth, coming back to the present again. "I keep many in my wardrobe for my daily needs." He stood, and Phoenix backed off to let him.

"Edgeworth, uh, is ev…" The immortal went past him. "Is--are you okay?"

Edgeworth paused, and turned back to face him. That awful struggling neutrality was back on his face again and Phoenix felt his heart twist in pain for his friend. He wouldn't meet Phoenix's eyes.

"I am fine, Wright. I will be gone only a moment. Please, enjoy your tea while it's still warm."

Phoenix watched him as he walked out. He stood still in the room for a few breaths before going back to sit down. He naturally looked to the empty chair opposite him, and then damp napkins on the side table next to it.

The typically neat and conscientious Edgeworth would not want those napkins left there. Phoenix picked them up and folded them to fit on the lacquer tea tray.

His gaze rested on them, then on the chair opposite him, then he took his tea cup and turned to the fire.

There he sat looking into the hearth, his hands encircled around the mild golden tea, when he saw Edgeworth return silently from the corner of his eye. Edgeworth stood at the entrance of the room without his jabot, and instead his left hand covering the base of his neck and fingers covering the right side of his lower neck, and the arm crossed over his chest. The immortal looked paler than usual, a little frightened, and like he had made a decision.

"Wright. There is…" He paused to get his voice back from the whisper it had descended to. "Wright, there is something about me that I think you should know. I believe we are friends, after all, and I suppose that friends should expect to know about things that are significant about each others' lives, things that shaped their lives." He looked to the fire, the ceiling, the priceless art on the walls, anywhere but to his friend standing silhouetted by the fireplace.

"I agree," said Phoenix, soft and neutral. "If there is something you think is important for me to know, then please. I would be honored know I am considered so trusted by you."

"Mmm. Well." Edgeworth cleared his throat.

Phoenix stepped back closer to the fireplace, inviting him to come closer.

His eyes darted to the time traveler, and away, and he did not move. "This… what I have… what I would show you is not… pleasant. I'm afraid it's perhaps… gruesome. From that you will understand why I reacted as I did when-- at the prospect of removing my jabot before you. And from that I will also extend my understanding if you do not want to… see it."

"Thank you, Edgeworth." The immortal swallowed tightly as he heard his name. "It was good of you to tell me what I would need to know to decide. But I would like to know what this is, if you still feel comfortable telling me." Again, Phoenix gestured for Edgeworth to come closer to the fireplace.

This time, Edgeworth crossed the room, moving as unconsciously as if sleepwalking. All his attention was burning on the clock on the mantelpiece. Phoenix led him by nonverbal suggestion past the chairs and to stand next to the hearth.

Once he stood in its light, there was nowhere else his gaze could escape to. He looked to Phoenix, who bore the intense emotions in his eyes like a weight hitting his chest.

"Are you faint of stomach?" asked Edgeworth.

Phoenix shook his head slowly. "Not especially."

"What is under my hand and arm is a scar," said Edgeworth, speaking slowly. "Sometimes, even I cannot look at it, and I keep it covered at all times. Would you still like to see?"

Phoenix nodded, and Edgeworth lifted his left arm away. As he'd said, there was a long, twisted line raised from his skin, pinkish-brown, which trailed from a little up the right side of his neck and down across its base to his chest, and disappeared into his shirt. Phoenix's vision went white around the edges, and he took a deep breath.

Edgeworth covered the scar again. "Are you all right, Wright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He closed his eyes and breathed again. When he opened them, Miles was looking back at him with an awful tangle of emotions. The only response Phoenix could give was to lay a hand gently on Edgeworth's left shoulder. "What was it? What happened?"

"I received it under mysterious circumstances in my childhood. I do not remember much about it, but I do remember the sword and, of course, the pain and... blood, before I fainted." Under his hand, Phoenix could feel him beginning to shake.

"It's okay," said Phoenix, and went closer to put his other hand on the other shoulder, the one beneath the scar.

Edgeworth made a small step forward to Phoenix, and let him embrace around his folded-up arm. The immortal didn't shake more, but Phoenix could feel it clearly as he rested against him. Phoenix circled his arms all the way around Edgeworth and held him gently, not wanting to hurt his arm or the scar it covered, pressing him as close as he dared.

Edgeworth did not let the embrace last long, though, and pulled away after a few breaths. "It… I'm… " he stammered.

"Edgeworth, it's all right. It's important to you. May I see it again?" asked Phoenix.

He inhaled sharply. "Again? Why on earth would…" The tension in his body stopped his throat.

"It's all right. Now that I know, I'd just like to see it again."

Slightly disbelieving, Edgeworth uncovered the scar again, watching Phoenix's face.

"I'm sorry, but, may I touch it?"

Edgeworth stared at him, his incredulity less subtle this time. "Wright."

"I'm simply curious. I don't have to, I understand if it's uncomfortable."

Edgeworth shook his head slightly, then took one of Phoenix's hands. Despite himself, Phoenix flushed. "Only if like this," said Edgeworth, guiding Phoenix's hand up protected in his, in case he wanted him to pull away.

Phoenix nodded, and with the pale hand holding his, brushed the back of a finger across the scar at the base of the neck.

"That didn't hurt, right?"

"No. This scar is many decades old."

"I see." His fingertips came back to touch the scar lightly, and then again to run a small ways along it.

Phoenix was aware of Miles staring into his face while he looked at the scar he was touching.

Phoenix looked up, and saw how close they were. He turned his hand in Miles' so that he was holding it.

"There's something else," said Phoenix.

"What is it?"

"May I kiss your cheek?"

Miles went a little paler, and stared. Then, he nodded. Phoenix gave him a featherweight kiss beside the mouth.

When he looked at Miles again, his grey eyes were wide, and nearly blank. Then, he looked to the clock on the mantle, and back, and ever so tiny, a smile appeared in them. Then, he nodded again.

Phoenix kissed him on the same side of the mouth. Miles nodded again.

Phoenix brought in his hand to kiss the back of it. Miles nodded again.

Phoenix let his hand down and hugged Miles close. Miles held him closer too, and Phoenix felt his next nod slide on the side of his head. Phoenix gently pressed his lips against Miles' neck, then against the beginning of his scar.

When Miles nodded, Phoenix squeezed him gently, and let go.

Miles wouldn't let go, and stared into his eyes as a flush began to wash over his face. Seeing it made Phoenix flush too.

"Wright."

"Edgeworth…"

The fire crackled beside them.

"I suppose I should be…  I think I need to return to my time now," said Phoenix. Miles reluctantly released him, his hands lingering, the scar visible in the fire's light.  "Thank you, Edgeworth. I'm- I'm lucky to know someone like you."

"I…" Miles began hoarsely. "I feel the same."

"I will be back. You know me," said Phoenix, a playful smile beginning to appear. "I'll be back."

This seemed to begin to wake Edgeworth from his pleasant stupor. "I know. Ah, until then."

"'Bye."

"Goodbye."

The strings appeared around the time traveler, and he vanished. Edgeworth stood staring at the spot, unconsciously feeling along his scar where Phoenix had touched.

[aosquakerider]

@biluata answered your question:

“Any Quakerider fic requests?”

Quakerider first date! <3

A/N: I have time-skipped past the mission to get STRAIGHT to the date part. Sorry not sorry fdsafd. THANKS FOR THE REQUEST BILUATA I L U <333 ALSO: this request is accidentally two chapters long. Thereby making my fic 8 chapters now instead of 7.WEEEEEE. Lastly: THANK MY FREAKING ACE BETA @solidfalcon FOR BEING SO FREAKING EXTRA ACE this time omg. Certain parts have become awesome cuz of her.

CH. 5 of 8

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One week felt compacted into twenty four hours and then some, as the omen of death hung above the skulls of the Agents of SHIELD. Just as with every mission, not a single agent (nor asset) allowed this to distract them. Death or life was not the forefront in their minds, success was paramount.

Perhaps then it was luck that allowed them all to make it out alive, or perhaps it was God on their side, or in their case, a man with a devil inside of him. Daisy probably figured that it was a befitting time as any to accept Robbie’s earlier offer, is what Robbie thought.

The pair stepped out of Robbie’s parked Charger. After, they glanced to one another as they began to cross the parking lot to approach the entrance of the restaurant.

“So…” Began Robbie, with drawn out, hesitant words. “… You look nice.”

“I’m dressed the same as I always am, Robbie.” She tilted an eyebrow at him. “You told me I didn’t have to wear anything special so I didn’t.” It was true, in fact, both of them were dressed as they had been every day they saw each other; dark and shadowy looking with black leather jackets and gloves.

“Yeah, but you still look nice.” His eyes locked forward again as they approached the doors to the restaurant. “Don’t girls like hearing that?” He tensed. Not four seconds into the date, and he already screwed up.

“I don’t care what girls like.” Said Daisy, amused. “Though, if you’re talking about me specifically, then, yeah, you’re right, I liked it, thank you.” She admitted, half muttering as she stared at the ground.

Robbie eased up. “Good… because that’s what I mean to say, actually.” She let loose a cheery laugh that sent a tingle traveling from his chest upward to his face, warming him with a benevolent light instead of the malicious fire he had grown used to. He wasn’t sure what made her laugh, but he found himself wanting more.

They entered the fancy place, and were seated in their reserved table for two. Fitz had recommended this place to Robbie, so if it didn’t meet Daisy’s standards of a quality night, then he would only need to turn to the little science guy for some answers. If restaurants in general were not her thing, then he would speak to Mack instead. However, everything seemed to be going well, so there was nothing to worry about, he tried to tell himself.

“Wait wait wait Robbie!” Daisy leaned over the table to inspect him closer as her eyes bugged out with realization. “Is this the first date you’ve ever been on?!”

“W-what? Where did you get that idea…?” Sweat broke from Robbie's skin as he gradually leaned away back into his chair.

“You’re so nervous you didn’t even know what to say to me when we got here!” She leaned back as well. “You look pretty.” She performed a terrible but adorable imitation of his voice. “Come on that’s literally what you said.”

“Nice imitation, but that’s not why I said that.” He tried not to stir a single expressive muscle in his face.

“Then why did you say that?”

He looked away without an answer. His knee began to restlessly bump up and down in a rhythm similar to the grumbling engine of his car when it idled, using the same leg he did to step on the gas.

She chuckled lightly. “It’s alright Robbie, I am just a little surprised this is your first date… I think? Maybe. I mean you haven't said it was or wasn't, but. Well either way, the thing you’re doing right now, not having any idea what you’re doing and just trying your best…? It’s kind’ve … um… cute? Do you mind if I call you that?” She winced lightly as she asked.

He huffed, frowning. “I’m not cute.”

“Yeah that’s right I forgot you’re an aloof tough guy.” She grinned. “You’re so adorable!”

He ceased attempting to debate with her about himself, shaking his head and shifting lightly in his seat to sit straighter.

“Okay… anyway.” Daisy said as she picked up her menu, freeing Robbie from the chains of cute comments. “How does it feel to be free?” He was relieved for that brief moment only to tense up again in the next.

He leaned his elbows forward onto the table, shrinking the space between them as he spoke low and muted so none could hear but Daisy, "Just between you and me, I don't feel free." He shook his head, there was profound intensity on his face as he stared at her. "The deal I made with SHIELD, it just feels a little too good to be true." He sighed. "I never should have taken the offer, but I was too desperate. I just wanted to be left alone with Gabe." He folded his hands together and gazed blankly at the table between them. "It was probably all just lies. They were probably just using me..."

"Robbie, that can't be true." She leaned on the table as well, whispering to him in return. "It just can't. I'm SHIELD and I'm honest with you."

"You just work for them, Daisy." He grimly met her eyes with his. "You don't even know these new guys, you said so yourself." He shook his head, still feeling it eating away at him from within. "Maybe it's just the devil inside of me telling me all this, or maybe I'm just being paranoid, but it's all just too convenient, you know?" He furrowed his brows at her. "They didn't have me sign a single thing, kept it all secret, and made no record of it ever happening. They could easily sweep it away like it never happened and try to get at me anyway. I don't feel free at all, Daisy. If anything, I feel less free than if it was just me, Gabe, and my power."

Daisy looked down to the table, quietly. Silence sat between them for a moment. Robbie felt his heart sink into his stomach upon seeing her mood visibly change. His mind began to race, and were about to overcome him and roar about how big of a mistake he just made. And the longer the silence went, the worse his brain got. He was suddenly extremely lost to the train wreck of thoughts about how foolish it was that he just told her all of those secrets he had been keeping to himself, and on their date no less, before Daisy cut in and disrupted the thought barrage.

"I'll figure it out, Robbie, I've got this. Don't worry." She had a placid look.

She's got this? What does she have? Did he just put her into an impossible situation that would risk her happiness and position in SHIELD? Did he drag her down with him? Did he completely ruin her mood by placing his own problems on her shoulders? His eyes looked to the table again, lost on thought. What had he just done? His torrent of thoughts was replaced by a whole new battleground.

“Okay well, Robbie. Never mind all of that.” She firmed her voice to grab his attention, cutting him out of his thoughts as he fixed his eyes on her again. “This place is beautiful, just look at it!” She glanced around, nodding approvingly at it's warmth and classiness. “It was such a good choice!”

“I’m glad.” He showed a hint of a smile and calmed as the combat in his mind dissipated. Even his shoulders eased down a little. He only took his eyes off of her for a brief glance at their surroundings, before bringing them straight back to her.

A few minutes later, the waiter had come, and the two ordered their meals. After the waiter left, their moods had been boosted again at the thought of food.

"Spaghetti huh?" Robbie rested his hands on his knees before leaning back into his chair smoothly.

"Yes." She replied. "I am not exactly creative with my choices today." Daisy had eased in her chair as well, her posture much more comfortable in appearance.

"Spaghetti is delicious." Robbie affirmed.

"What about you?" Asked Daisy. "Fish?"

"Fish is good too."

"I get the feeling you'd like just about anything." Daisy said with amusement.

"Food is good."

"I can't object to that." Daisy pursed her lips back, suppressing a small chortle.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself quite a lot."

"No I'm not." Her face looked serious. "I'm enjoying you." She grinned sprightly.

Robbie swore his heart skipped a beat and his face began to feel warm. That was too smooth.

"What?" Daisy's smile appeared to glint in the warm lighting. "Speechless?"

A brief pause to calm himself, the sensation in his face faded as his mind wandered again, bringing to the surface a question. "Daisy?" Robbie was calm, now, as he gazed at her with softened eyes, something few had ever seen.

"Yes?" Daisy watched him curiously.

"Can I ask why you thought I didn't want you near me?" Ever since he discovered what was going on her mind, it didn't stop bothering his own. Those words he shared with her ached in his chest ever since he heard them that night. He needed to know.

She bit down on her lips, looking away from him. "It... it was nothing. Never mind."

Robbie could see that her smile, and her light had faded. He quickly leaned forward onto the table again. "Nothing? Daisy. If I didn't want to be near you, then why would I have come to the bar?"

"You were there for me?" Her eyes were brought back to him as she blinked in surprise.

"Yes." He said wholeheartedly.

Her words tendered, then, she struggled not to look away, pulling her eyes back to him every second syllable. "Truth is, Robbie, I was there for you, too."

The shock that hit Robbie left him silent.

"It wasn't like that, though, but it was still my idea." Explained Daisy. "We didn't go because we could die on the mission. We can die on every mission. But do you know why we picked that one, specifically, to have drinks for? We were there because of you. We were celebrating you. You were the reason we had any chance of winning. We were grateful for you... but we just forgot to do the toast because we were drunk off our asses." She sighed and rested a hand on her forehead again.

He stared on, utterly shocked and feeling the warmth for her deepen after every second. "Why didn't you just say that to begin with?"

"I don't know!" She huffed ironically. "Maybe we thought you don't like mushy stuff! Or maybe because we were just too hammered." She laughed again, but awkwardly, squishing her eyelids shut to ease the pain of embarrassment.

Robbie's entire body was a magnet that attempted to forcefully pull him towards her and wrap her in a large, tight embrace, while gently stroking her head and telling her that everything would be okay. He had no idea why, and tried with all his might to fight it, leaving himself sitting stiff and firm in his seat, with merely a slight glitter of ardor in his eyes.

"So I guess then..." Daisy forthright asked "You and Gabe don't hate being near me?"

"What the hell?" Robbie sat a bit more firm, looking disconcerted. "Hate? Daisy. What the %$#@ gave you that idea?"

The corner of her lip perked at his abrasive wording choice. "It's just... ah." She sighed, clenching her teeth. "Listen. Gabe wants me to stay away." She stared down at the table, refusing to meet his eyes. "He knows what's best for you, Robbie."

"Okay." Robbie set his hands on the table, rapping it once to firm his point. "I don't know why you're thinking that way, but Gabe adores you." He leaned forward on his arm, extending himself an inch towards her. "Truthfully he's the one who pushed me to ask you out." As well as Yoyo and Mack but he wouldn't admit that to her.

"What?" Daisy blinked, her eyebrows raised at him as her face lit up. "Really?"

"Hell yeah. He wouldn't get off my back about it. Every time I was with him or on the phone with him after I came back he was asking me if I talked to you yet. Every single time. Come on." He shook his head, smiling lightly at his brother's pursuits. "I would try to turn it around by asking him if he had gone out with the girl he likes yet, but it didn't work."

"Really?"

"Yeah." He smirked at the corner of his lip as he slid down into his chair, slumping all too relaxed while he draped his arm over the back. "You don't have to worry, Daisy... truth is..." He delightfully tilted his head to one side, captivating the gazes around him. "... I have always liked having you somewhere nearby... ya know?" He looked to her with subtly glimmering eyes.

He catches in his eyes the view of her face softening sweetly at his words, but in the same instant, the expression was gone as quickly as it came, only present for a single breath. It gave way to a somber essence when her head turned away. With her light gone, so dimmed Robbie's heart. He had so many questions for her, then, all of which weighed on him.

The food at last arrived, Daisy thanked the waiter, but Robbie remained silent. His silence had more to do with simply being Robbie, than his mood, but the mood was still a burden regardless. And this feeling would continue to weigh him down as they sat quietly through their whole meal. They shared sparse words, limited only to small talk.

"How is your food?" Robbie heard once that asking people questions about things that were important to them would help lift their spirits.

"Good." Daisy continued to eat in dejection. His plan failed. He had done so much wrong.

They each finished their meals and set down their utensils, not at all feeling the joyous and fairy-dust fueled dream that a first date was meant to be according to the many tales they've heard.

He watched her sit in silence and with clear discomfort. It made his heart ache to see her this way. Not just this time, but anytime he saw her hurting or upset, he, too, would hurt. He recalled the first time they met and how she begged him to kill her, to be judged by the demon for the sins she committed. And even he saw it. Saw that she was suffering and in pain for sins that were not her own. He refused to harm her. He saw no monster within Daisy. Which is why it baffled Robbie, himself, that Daisy believed she was unworthy of any sort of happiness.

He refused to let her suffer in silence anymore. She would never be alone. Not if he could help it.

"Are you okay?" Robbie finally broke the silence. Sweat beaded on his forehead again, he tapped his finger on his knee. Even with his determination to ease the weight off her shoulders, he was still utterly terrified of screwing this night up even more for her. He was afraid of saying the wrong thing or making her feel worse. Along side this feeling of fear was a feeling of foolishness. How could he, the ferocious monster with tales told of him in the air and on the streets, be so nervous in asking such a simple question?

"I'm fine." She sounded dispassionate, and didn't even bother to meet his eye.

"Daisy." He softened his tone as he dipped his head. "I know you. You're not fine."

She remained quiet for a few more seconds as Robbie waited for her to speak up. When she finally did, her head was bowed low, and she spoke so quiet he could only just hear her. "... why did I think I could do this...?" She shook her head softly, keeping it low.

He felt his heart sink. He knew it. This whole date idea was a mistake. Maybe he shouldn't have admitted he liked her company, that seemed to worsen her mood--

"It's not because of you, Robbie." That caught him off guard, and made him momentarily wonder her inhuman powers also included telepathy. She glanced at him, then down again. "I meant what I said, I'm enjoying this, but... I-" She pressed her hand to her eyes. "-I don't know if I ... can keep doing this date thing." There was a drawn out, sharpened silence. "I think... We shouldn't do this anymore. This dating thing."

The silence struck all spirit dead again.

"... It's just... you know..." She removed her hand from her face, letting it fall to her lap. ".. Lincoln." She grimaced.

Robbie only listened.

"I still feel like it was yesterday when he... when he... he... died for all of us. Because of me."

"It's alright. I understand." Robbie's voice was unusually gentle. Daisy looked to him and saw the compassion on his face. Her lips delicately closed. "It's... it's okay." He sat back in his chair, shutting his eyes softly and he took in a breath. "We ... don't have to do this."

He wanted her to share her words, her life with him, but if she didn't want the same, he would have to accept it, as much as it hurt him. It clearly pained her to confess such things, to talk about Lincoln and what transpired with HIVE. And he didn't want her to hurt. He didn't want her to ache because of him. And while he only wished for her to no longer shoulder her burdens alone, that he wished she would at least talk to someone, she did not want to share, and he would have to be okay with that. Even with the lingering thoughts in his mind telling him there was something more she was not sharing with him. It was not his place to pry.

"Robbie..." The anguish within her seeped out to lightly taint her words.

"No I just..." He looked aside, blinking away his own pain. "I brought you here so you could be happy." He gestured limply to the environment. "It didn't work so, I guess it's over."

"Robbie no..." She reached her hand forth to tenderly place her fingers on his hand that laid resting on the table. "This did make me happy." Their eyes met when his face turned to her. He saw it form again, her small hint of light; that compassionate smile.

For a stretched moment in time, only Robbie and Daisy existed. They seemed to freeze there, still, with abated breaths, before Robbie pulled away his gaze, shattering the suspension of reality.

"I don't know why I did any of this." He confessed, briefly rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb. "I don't what I'm doing. This just isn't me." He shook his head once, his lip corner perked for a brisk, fake chortle. "I'm sorry, Daisy."

"For what?" Daisy blinked at him. "And what's not you? The dinner? The date?"

"I don't know... I don't know." He looked away.

"If this isn't you, then what is?"

He stared quietly at her, questioningly, then looked off again, blankly. "I don't know..."

They were above all quiet as the air hung thickly around them when they left the restaurant, and made their way towards the car. Daisy sat in the passenger seat and shut the door before Robbie got in on the driver's side, just barely able to breathe through the weight of the night, and the feeling clawing at his chest, until one single thought, one realization broke him through the surface of the self-made sea of blackness.

"Cars."

"What?" Daisy stared at him, utterly perplexed.

Robbie stared at Daisy, his eyes glittering in the street lights outside of the car. "No, not cars. My car." He leaned his arm over the back of his seat, and across the back of Daisy's. "You asked me what my thing is. You're sittin' in it."

A small smile finally grew back on Daisy's face, the sight of it in the street lights gave him such pleasure. "Is that so?"

His words were real, his look was true. "Of course."

Daisy blinked, an idea seemed to form in her eyes. "So then... this night was a bust... but it doesn't have to be." She freed a smirk on her lips. "We can still save it." She insisted, then added, "Without it being a date."

He paused. "Hold up. How?"

"Lets drive around."

"Just drive?"

"Yeah. See the sights. View the lights. Just... drive around in your beautiful car..." She drew her fingers across the dash, an affectionate smile on her features.

The heart within Robbie's chest was for the moment, no longer drowning in darkness, as it swelled with warmth once more, his gaze on her glittering. "I like that idea..." He breathed.