#not to be an upper middle class white lady about it but uh… what the fuck am I paying you for

[fractallogic]

Dear travel agent company:

Seems like it’s in your best interests to make it as easy as humanly possible to pay you instead of using a POS website that makes me shuffle through a bunch of opaque menus so that I can pay your undisclosed fees!!!

By the way, what’s the point of using you if I can book exactly what you’ve done for me, pay slightly more, and have better customer service and less confusing payment options? Genuine question that I’ve posed to you in my email.

I am so tired of people being bad at their literal single job. Do fucking better.

[angiebowiearchive]

Angie’s Confessions at Timothy Lock’s G-Spot Transcript [Part 2] (2006)

(originally transcribed by me in 2006 and posted on an old LJ community. These are the same transcriptions from that time and I can no longer verify how accurate it may be. Wayback link to the episode summary here, mp3 link does not work. if anyone still has these audio files/knows how to access them, let me know.)

[part 1 here]

Timothy: On the phone with me right now from sunny Tuscon, Arizona is the fabulous Angie Bowie. Now the one thing that I’m envious about you is that you got to see London in the late sixties and the early seventies. Most of the listeners to this show probably know London from that time period by watching a dance routine from an Austin Powers film.-

Angie: Yes Timothy: Angie tell us what it was really like at that time.

Angie: Well it was, um. London had suffered such devestation from the bombing in the Blitz, that in the 1950s when I first went to London-we stayed at the Cumberland Hotel, I think I wrote this to you in my e-mail.

Timothy: Yes.

Angie: This first trip we stayed at the Cumberland, the second trip at the [unintelligible], and my father’s company paid for this, this was just the way when you worked abroad, it worked. It was nothing to do with being rich, or you know, some kind of wealthy fool, it was to do with being professional. Because he was a professional mining engineer, my dad lived like this. And when we were there, and I had a camel hair coat. A little pale white camel hair coat. Not a brown one. By the end of the stay in London, my mother had to have it dry cleaned, it was covered in soot. By the sixties, the labor government put in the green zone around London, stopped the pollutant industries and the air in London was clean. For the first time a hundred and fifty years. Now that’s really important, it’s important to peoples’ state of mind. You have to understand, the fog that we read about in those 1890s great Sherlock Holmes things, and then when Agatha Christie even describes it in the thirties, that is all part of the fact that the place was overcast with this gluey soot from all the industry. Now it made the country rich, so you know what I mean, no one’s knocking it, it was just time to clean it up ’cause people had all kinds of, you know, respiratory ailments. They were sick! It was bad! And that action by the government, I think was the first time-there were also other things. Part of the reason that Winston Churchill was able to get the people to stay with him during World War II was he promised them council housing, benefits, some kind of health insurance so they would not be like just dying in the street unable to afford a doctor. And when all those things were implemented in the 1960s, the lower and middle classes saw some joy at last!

Timothy: Mm hmm.

Angie: So their creativity flourished. And you got all these wonderful people like the Chris Stamps and his brother Terrence Stamps, Vidale [unintelligible], You know, I wish I could think of them all off the top of my head. The lady Barbara [unintelligible], , who did [unintelligible], . All these people just exploded and showed their brilliance and their creativity. And they weren’t in the House of Lords, and they weren’t anything to do with the upper class. And sports, same thing. All of a sudden there was Georgie Best and all these people that we could look at and think ‘wow, those are real people’. Until then it was Charles-big ears-Windsor!

Timothy: [laughs]

Angie: That was the biggest teen idol there was! Then we had Adam Faith and we had all these-you know, apart from Elvis and all the huge ones-I’m talking local. You know, we had local heroes.

Timothy: Right

Angie: And uh, so London-as you walked around London, you could fall over a hero. And that was what was magic. It was enchanting. Have I helped? Have I made any sense whatsoever?

Timothy: You totally have. And you know what? I think if you look at that era, especially in London, a-a, we’ll move forward a few years, and you think of classic rock star partners. There are a handful-rock star wives if you want to call it that-there are a handful that come to mind that made an impact. Now, stay with me on this one.

Angie: Okay. Timothy: Bianca Jagger. Yoko Ono. Linda McCartney. Yourself. Now, when you look at the music industry nowadays, it seems that the focus has shifted from the person that builds up the rockstar, the rockstar’s wife. It’s now the footballer’s wife. Do you think the glamour and mystique of the rock star’s wife is over?

Angie: Oh no. No no. That’s all inherent in-in…the package.

Timothy: Yeah.

Angie: You know. [sigh] Linda McCarnty was a brilliant woman.

Timothy: Yes

Angie: She was really nice. I-ya know, I really liked her. I love vegetarians, I think people that are vegetarian are so cool.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: I’m a meat eater, I can’t help it. I go to shit if I don’t have, you know, steak once a month. I’ve got to have a big piece of nearly raw meat once a month. I can’t stand it. And I eat a lot of fish, I need all that protein. Um. Linda was totally cool, I think she was such a great wife and friend to Paul. I think that’s why his career has been-just-there’s a continuity and a longevity to it. It’s impressive.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: You know, I-I watched a documentary the other day about them going to Russia. I’m sure you’ve seen it, it’s a wonderful documentary. You suddenly realize the power of music. Everything, all that Cold War-all that innuendo, all that, you know, flapping of boots and general, you know, rattling their sabers at each other, this super power rubbish-I-I really believe the Beatles and rock and roll were probably…I think they probably brought down that wall in Berlin more than anything else. Because the music travelled. You know, a cassette-yeah, yeah you could go to jail for it, but most of the time it got through and people would sit in their houses and listen to rock and roll, and think ‘you know, that’s so cool’. Dancing and music and having a good time and being able to express yourself.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: That’s important stuff. And she was a part of that. Bianca too, she’s a social activist now, she was very, um, effective in New York with this, uh, fungal type of stuff that they have in old old real estate there. Poor girl she got sick from it I think and brought it to the public’s attention and I’ve known a lot of people who’ve been sick. My friend and agent Clarence in Los Angeles, the same thing happened to in an apartment building he lived in. So she’s an interesting person. And Yoko Ono’s my big fave, because I like her music. I think she’s really very talented, and I loved the way she thought, with the bed-in in Amsterdam, I thought the whole idea of staying in bed for peace was a perfect example of how you can really use your energy instead of killing people.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: It was clever. She’s a visiualist, I love the way that-she did a great movie of people’s bums. She’s done a lot of interesting work.

Timothy: Now, do you see that creativity nowaday in people, ’cause I’m thinking of people like Victoria Beckham, who’s married to David Beckham. Do you understand where I’m going with this?

Angie: Who, Posh Spice?

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Well, the question is, you see what you’re getting into now is anthroplogy, and what happens is this. And, and I’m very glad to have this oppurtunity to talk with you about it. If I get boring, say ‘you know what Angie, enough now’

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Um, this is what I’ve found. I’ve been preparing a new book and while preparing the new book, you know you start thinking about different questions. One of the questions I have a real problem with is the labelization of capitialism. A lot of the kids I met in London and talked to were very dissapointed in me. Very dissapointed that I hadn’t been enormously successful and gotten all kinds of money from David.

Timothy: Right

Angie: They were like, ‘But you’re Angie Bowie!’ And I’d go ‘Yeahhh, annnd what does that mean?’ ‘But you’re a star!’ ‘No, I’m just me. Look, I’m standing here chatting with you, what are you talking about?’ Now when you label-this is a big subject, I really don’t want to bore you. When you start to make everything into a label-

Timothy: Yes

Angie: Back to Posh Beckham, I mean Posh Spice, whatever.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Sometimes there isn’t room for more than one message.

Timothy: Right

Angie: The great thing about Linda McCartney and Paul McCartney was that Linda’s message was different. Paul was inclusive, he included her because he insisted, and how clever of him. But her photographs, her sense of style which her daughter seems to be very impressed with-I-I never really thought about the way she dressed or the way she looked with any particular impact. I just thought she looked nice. You know, she was, she looked fine.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: But I really thought that her vegetarianism, her real [stammers] marvelous ability at taking photographs was talent enough. You know what I mean?

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: And because it was in a little different direction then Paul, it didn’t impinge on what he was doing. And then when he included her in the music, and she was so creative that she was able to join in and be a real asset to the band, that was good too. The problem is I think that with labeliz-labeling now, you know, I’m a marketing major so for me this is what I breathe every day.

Timothy: Right

Angie: I-I don’t like the way that is. I don’t want to buy my clothes from a hip-hop singer.

Timothy: Yeah.

Angie: I don’t, you know, I’m not interested in buying it because’s got someone’s name on it. But then I guess I’m not a normal consumer. So what we’re doing is we’re kind of intristically breathing in selectivity through one’s marketing choices. You’re joining a group. Like MySpace.com

Timothy: Y-Yes

Angie: Big Brother is already selecting your likes, your dislikes, the way you represent yourself. You see what I’m saying here?

Timothy: Oh, totally. Angie, this is the first time we’ve actually spoken on the phone, but how long have-we’ve communicated for a couple of weeks through MySpace, which is global, isn’t it amazing the way it-

Angie: Absoultely!

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Absoultely, and the g-the, the, the great thing about it is, is that for those of us with a little bit of [unintelligible], about being safe and being this and being that, or being in the business.

Timothy: Yeah Angie: We can handle it, so I always-I’m sure you do the same-I-I’m always a little concerned when I look at the papers, you know, and it says ‘Ooh! Fourteen year old child gets visa and passport and goes to the Middle East to meet her MySpace.com friend’. But in a way, how brilliant. How brilliant that these youngsters see everyone as a potential friend.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: It’s a lot better than, you know, Jihadist Inc., kill anyone in a turban. Which is the other way to go.

Timothy: Mmm.

Angie: Let’s be friends. Let’s all be friends.

Timothy: Globally

Angie: Yeah! Galactically!

Timothy: You know, Angie, can you imagine in ten years from now, if there is a world peace agreement signed and the person whose signature on the bottom of the peace agreement is the guy who runs MySpace.com

Angie: Rupurt Murdoch?

Timothy: [laughs]

Angie: I doubt it.

Timothy: [still laughing] Yeah, you’re right, sorry. Maybe the air

Angie: It was a lovely premise, and I love the way you [unintelligible] it, but no.

Timothy: [still laughing]

Angie: It’s not gonna happen.

Timothy: Yeah, well I just I feel the air coming out of that thought bubble right now

Angie: Yeah. Uncle Rup.

Timothy: [laughs] Well, uh, did-do you know what, another thing that we-we’ve talked about briefly before is, you know you’ve stated that you’re openly, proudly bisexual. I’m bisexual as well, but in my case it means that I have to pay for it because I’m a big ugly guy who looks like Lurch from the Addams Family.

Angie: [laughs] You are so terrible!

Timothy: Now-

Angie: Naughty boy you are. Yes, okay, mm-hmm.

Timothy: Now, you speak of bisexuality being a state of mind rather than body. How so?

Angie: It’s, uh, the idea that every single living human creature or not human creature is a kind, good thing that should be treated with respect and kindly.

Timothy: Mm-hmm

Angie: That to me is what it’s all about. It’s seeing the sexuality in food, in massage, in understanding that an older person needs to be hugged.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: It’s about touch.

Timothy: Right

Angie: It’s not about penetration. I must-I’m sorry if it sounds, uh, I’m not backing off.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Don’t think that, that’s [laughs] my poor partner, Michael, will tell you. ‘Back off? She doesn’t know the meaning of the words’

Timothy: Yes

Angie: Uh, that’s not what I’m doing. I’m just trying to be clear.

Timothy: Yes

Angie: You know. I’ve explained how I feel about age and sexuality.

Timothy: Mm-hmm

Angie: I really think people should be adult.

Timothy: Right

Angie: I mean, at least able to-to vote. You know, before you have sex. It’s so much nicer, to not. It was great. I-I hung with a lot of people from fifteen to eighteen. Calvin, Lou Risner, all these people.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Didn’t have sex with them.

Timothy: Mm hmm

Angie: They knew I was at college, I’d done a deal with my father. ‘Don’t fuck with me, I’m not interested’.

Timothy: Right

Angie: It’s real easy, you just say to people no.

Timothy: And, but-

Angie: You watch your drink, you make sure you don’t get spiked. You know, that’s it, what else can you do?

Timothy: It’s, it’s, uh, w-what-myself being a gay man, um, what I find is that in the, i-in the gay lifestyle, uh, especially here in London, is it’s-the, the mindset is sex first, let’s talk later. You know, when you wake up in the morning, you look over and say ‘what’s your name?’

Angie: Well, I think that’s true, but I-you know I’m-I don’t really kind of have the same way of approaching that kind of stuff.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: I-you know, when-I think when you’re raised a Catholic, you get a software pattern in your brain, that once you renounce it, you stil have that kind of jes-my father was-let me tell a quick story and it’ll explain to you.

Timothy: Sure

Angie: My father about blackmail. Okay. My mother was going to go with my brother to join him in the Phillipines

Timothy: Okay

Angie: And they bombed Pearl Harbor. So my father comes back a war hero, right?

Timothy: Right

Angie: She meets him in San Francisco, he had to go into the [unintelligible], for like, a year to get rid of all the bugs. He’s got marlaria, he’s got fifty seven types of parastical things in his intestines, you know what I’m saying.

Timothy: Right

Angie: So, she-after a year, you know what I mean, they get together she says-well, they’re sitting having dinner, at this, the [unintelligible], in San Francisco. And there’s photographs of this evening. And I’ve heard the story so many times, this is why I can tell it with such-she said to him, ‘well, what if we’d gotten there and the Japs had put us in a concentration camp? Would you have saved us darling?’ He said ‘No honey, I’d hope that you would’ve fought them off as they raped you and killed as many as you could as you died’

Timothy: Oh my God

Angie: I grew up believing that.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: I won’t be blackmailed, I won’t be fucked with.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: By anybody. Now I-back to your question about gay.

Timothy: Yeah, yeah.

Angie: About the lifestyle.

Timothy: Yes

Angie: [pauses for a moment] You gotta love me

Timothy: Hmm

Angie: You gotta adore me. Before I would even look twice at you in a bar

Timothy: Right

Angie: And it soon became obvious to me that the contents of a bar was not the type of people I wanted to ever know.

Timothy: Right

Angie: Now, the problem is, is that looking for gay partners-now, I met Michael in a bar by the way.

Timothy: Okay

Angie: At an opening. So when I say these things, they’re overall generalizations like authors do. But the truth of the matter is, I try to be honset too about when there’s an exception.

Timothy: Yes

Angie: For gay people, we’ve been stuck underground for so many years, treated with contempt and humiliated. The only place we could meet others like us was in places that had no signs.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Little, uh-I remember going to The Gates in London and a girl, an Italian girl, saw me talking to her girlfirend at the bar. She came into the bathroom and pulled a knife on me. I was seventeen years old, I didn’t know what to do. I-I thought, w-well-I-we just came in here-I had no idea that it was so tight and so closed.

Timothy: Mmm

Angie: So I think that, in answer to your question-I talked with Patrick Willie a lot about this. We talked about his clubs down in South London and the kind of events that he sponsers. I think as it becomes more accepted, and-and you realize we have a terrible bottleneck at the moment with the influx of Muslims-

Timothy: Yes

Angie: -people from the Middle East-who are totally and utterly eighteen thousand times worse than Catholics tortured.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: So, we’re going to have some more rough times.

Timothy: Right

Angie: With our gay rights. A-and that’s a fact of life. And, uh, I just stayed in-and now in answer to your question, yes I stayed by myself for ten years, after Stasha’s father and I split up. Drew Blood. I just stayed alone. And then I met Michael. ‘Cause I was scared. I was scared that if I met someone they would be a child molester and they’d be after my daughter.

Timothy: Right

Angie: See, I didn’t know. You know, I kept thinking to myself, ‘I’ll just stay by myself. Fuck it.’ And then when you stay by yourself it’s good because then the people that really wanna be with you come out of the woodwork.

Timothy: Right

Angie: And they won’t let you escape. You know, you know you’re wanted, that they’ve gotta love me. I think that’s the-a way that helps clean the interested from the oppurtunist.

Timothy: Yeah. We-the-the-just seperating the wheat from the chaff as it were

Angie: Yes, exactly. Nicely put.

Timothy: Now, Angie, in America, uh, what’s the current climate for gays, lesbians and bisexuals under the Bush administration?

Angie: I don’t know, I haven’t really-to be honest, I haven’t really chatted with anyone who’s had a particular uh, problem, you know what I mean.

Timothy: Mm hmm, right

Angie: I-I know that everyone’s up in arms about the-the marriage stuff being divided. It’s like them redistricting the states so that they can get Republicans in.

Timothy: Yes

Angie: Same kind of thing with the marriage, uh, rights issue for gays. They-they’re going to all these different states and try to-any time they accept marriage for gays, then they immediately say that they’re, you know ‘liberal fools’ and blah blah blah. So, you know, they’re using their propoganda machine to make life as difficult as possible. And I think the die-hard

gay couples with some political sense-

Timothy: Yes

Angie: Are riding-you know, weathering the storm quite well. Probably more frightening for youngsters. Because they really believe they’re free.

Timothy: Mmm

Angie: They don’t know yet that they’re not free. I-I read a horrible story about American employers using MySpace.com to check on the references of all teenagers that apply to them. So you know, if they write anything cheeky or cute or, you know, about their sexuality, uh, you know you say the wrong kind of thing you may very well be propsitioned in the stores room. So you know that-that kind of thing, I think for the youngsters it’s more frightening.

Timothy: Do you think America will ever get over its oppresive attitude towards sex and sexuality?

Angie: They’ve gotta get over their attitude to religion before they get over their attitude to sexuality.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: I mean they still believe in, you know, gods with long white beards and uh, Baptist people, ministers. They just convicted a bunch of Baptist ministers who embezzled, uh, four hundred million dollars of their church-goers retirement fund.

Timothy: In the name of Jesus

Angie: [in Southern Baptist-like voice] In the name of Jesus and the Bapitst Chruch! So until we, you know, let people grow up enough to realize that you don’t go to church to get your housing, to get your, uh, investment oppurtunites, and to get sex.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Which is the other thing. You know, we have such scandelous behavior with the Catholic church here. It’s just, it’s a country that runs on cheap sex and religion. And they go to church on Sunday with a hangover and fuck all week. So in answer to your question, uh, no [laughs].

Timothy: [laughs]

Angie: [laughing] I think it’s gonna take a visitation from another planet before they grow up.

Timothy: Now Angie, what do you think would happen if George W. Bush’s daughters, his two teenage daughters, one of them turned out to be bisexual and the other a lesbian?

Angie: You could only thank some great unknown creature in the sky, couldn’t you?

Timothy: Oh, exactly.

Angie: Wouldn’t that be divine retribution?

Timothy: Well, I’m sure you remember, during the presidential campaign, Dick Cheny’s daughter, John Kerry was jumpin’ all over that.

Angie: Well exactly, but you know, like she said you can only do so much. I mean what could she do?

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: You know, she does her best, and her father is supportive. I-I’ve seen him. And he won’t-he just puts his foot down. He says ‘you know, I adore my daughter. Stop. Don’t even go there’. And, and I guess that for a father, that’s better than my father would’ve been.

Timothy: Right

Angie: Mother wouldn’t even show him the letter that-the school sent a letter, tried to hint that I needed some kind of, you know, intervention.

Timothy: Right

Angie: Because, uh, this is a country that believes, you know, you can cure anything as long as you pay for a doctor or someone professional to tell you that, uh, this is how I cash your checks.

Timothy: Now Angie, if you had to write your own eulogy, what would you like said about yourself?

Angie: Oh God. Y-I-the one question I never would’ve even thought of, I can’t think of an answer. I hope someone who’s talked to me like you would write something kind and honest. Say I sought the truth, sought the truth wherever I found it and I tried to pass it on to as many people as I could, though any distribution channel I found.

Timothy: So it’s not basically what you think of yourself, it’s the impact that you’ve made on the people around you and how you’ve touched them.

Angie: I would hope

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: I-I found from the website, you know I had a really nice successful website for the last five years, and I-six years, actually-um, I-I have been so surprised at the amount of people I seem to have touched. It, it made me feel proud of myself.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: So many women who have said ‘you know [laughs] I-I, when I read your book, I realized I wasn’t alone, and were [transcription note: or we’re?] not the only person it that situation where I’d helped my husband, you know, I’d done all this stuff and then they tried to get rid of them, you know, without-‘…y-you gotta compensate people!

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: Their work for their efforts. You know, no one’s asking for anything they didn’t earn. I’m not that type of person. I don’t do that.

Timothy: Mm hmm

Angie: B-But I found that from the letters on the website, and then all about sexuality. A lot of people from that time said that I made that very clear, ’cause I was on the radio, I did a lot of press interviews, print magazines, I tried to-y’ know, television. I tried to do what I was offered to get the message out there. I really didn’t think that it was worth being well known if you’re not gonna try to say something that helps people.

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: What, what, I’m well known? Well I’m so vain I wanna see my picture? No! I don’t! I wanna say something that helps people or else why am I doing it?

Timothy: Yeah

Angie: True vanity, true stupidity more like. ‘Cause that kind of vanity just leads to your own personal misery.

Timothy: Well, you know what, what I can say is that after having close to an hour long conversation with you, I find you fabulous, I find you funny, I find you photogenic, I love alliteration even though photogenic starts with ‘ph’ for now we’ll p-pretend it starts with an f [laughs].

Angie: [laughs] You’re very kind, and it was a pleasure talking to you Timothy.

Timothy: Angie, thank you so much.

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes:

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR

Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.

“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”

This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof. 

You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door. 

He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up. 

You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?

An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.

You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.

Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.

You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at. 

To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid. 

You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.

It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite. 

Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.

It took three days for Frankie to break.

You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.

"You never talk about it."

You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.

"Talk about what?"

He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.

Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.

"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.

"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."

With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."

Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.

Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.

"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."

"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"

"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face. 

"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."

"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."

Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.

"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.

The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.

The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.

Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.

It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.

"I've met men like that," 

You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud. 

Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.

"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."

Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you. 

Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch. 

"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."

Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.

"Please. Stay."

Part SIX

If you want to be tagged please send an ask! Replies get lost

TAGS:  @rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov @trash-dino-5000 @reader-s-cantina @pascal-rascal424 @alberta-sunrise @pascal-rascal424 @bts17army @sarahjkl82-blog @grogusmum @radiowallet @vonschweetz @greeneyedblondie44 @diaryofkali @cassandras-nest @silverstarsandsuns @haapeaness

[primroseprime2019]

Speed Metal

On a dirt road, a familiar shiny red Aston Martini DBS V12 sports car with white decals was driving down one of the many back roads towards a local hot spot for street racing. The driver had the radio playing. "As metropolitan PD continues to crack down on illegal street racing, citing the danger to both drivers and pedestrians-" the new reporter was cut off as the driver switched off the radio. He was uninterested in listening to more reports of local cops attempting to put a stop to illegal street racing.

Oddly enough, the radio was switched off automatically, not by a person's hand. This car was known other than the Decepticon Doctor, Knockout. He knew that Ember would probably kick his aft to kingdom come if she found out about Knockout's activities. However, Knockout didn't care as the thrill of illegal street racing was too hard to resist.

Up ahead, three other cars were waiting, with the drivers revving the engines. The ref walked out in front of cars as Knockout pulled up. They were all waiting for the right time to start and for everyone to arrive. All the cars were built for speed and had many modifications that were illegal. The Decepticon car intrigued the large muscular, tattooed driver of the muscle car Knockout had pulled up next to.

"Not from around here." The driver commented, referring to the car model. "European design?" He asked curiously, only to get no response from Knockout. The driver didn't like being ignored like that. "Sure is pretty. Too pretty..." The driver said with a grin as he tightened his right hand into a fist. 'This race is for fully grown men, not prissy little boys with pretty cars.' He thought. Using his ring, he scratched the paintwork on the driver's side door.

Knockout used his side view mirror to inspect the damage. Then he turned to the driver, who just shrugged, satisfied with his work, and rolled up his heavily tinted window.

"Big mistake!" Knockout gritted as he changed gears.

The ref held the flashlight above his head and switched it on, signaling for the race begin. All four cars took off, eager to beat their opponents to the finish line. For Knockout, he was eager not only to be the first to cross the finish line, but also to obtain his revenge against the driver who scratched his paintjob. The race was mean and grueling. The driver had the lead. He looked in his rearview mirror and smirked at the other drivers behind him before going even faster. Flames were escaping from the engine through the exhaust pipe as the RPM meter read dangerously close to seven thousand.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of squealing tires. He looked in his rearview mirror once again and saw that Knockout was quickly gaining the upper hand in this race. He rammed himself into the car. It was time to make this human pay for damaging his paintjob.

"HEY!" The driver cried out in protest.

With one single ram as they turned the corner, the driver went over the edge, destroying the guardrail. The car didn't even tumble down the cliff face or see-saw on a particular ledge. It just headed straight to the bottom, upside down, and the sound of the car crashing as music to Knockout's ears.

"Dude..." The driver moaned.

"You scratch my paint, I scratch yours." Knockout sneered dangerously before driving away, intent on reaching the finish line.

◊◊◊◊

Paige walked down the stairs of the school and she looked around before she saw a boy staring at her. She stared back before she walked over to Jack and Arcee who was in her vehicle mode.

"You okay?" He asked. "I just wanna go to the base," she said quietly as she sat down behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Alright, alright," he said softly, reassuringly. He knew she'd be having some bad days where either she'd be quiet and try to hide in the back of the class or she would just start crying and clutching at her head. And this was one of the days.

"Turn on your music okay?" He said gently as he placed her earpods in her ears. She nodded and closed her eyes as she started to listen to the soundtrack from Collateral Beauty.

"Hey! Cherry moped!" Jack glanced at Vince who stood by his car.

"Um, this 'moped' has dual carbs and can go from 0 to 60 in 3.5 seconds," Jack boasted rather proudly before he drove off.

They soon pulled up to a red light. "Uh, Jack, a lady's vital stats are her own business," Arcee reprimanded him quietly. Jack almost rolled his eyes at that.

"Hey! Nick, right?"

He heard another female voice call out to him. He turned to face the corner and saw Sierra standing there with her best friend.

"Actually, it's Jack," he said. "Jack. Sorry. I'm Sierra," she said with a sheepish smile.

"I know," Jack said with a light blush that was concealed by his helmet.

"You once offered to take me for a ride?" Sierra reminded him. "Of course I did," Jack said instantly, "at anytime."

"I'm your guardian, kiddo," Arcee said quietly, "not your wingman." "So? How about now?" Sierra asked him hopefully.

"Uh...," Jack went to answer, but he stopped short when he saw Vince pull up next to him.

"Hey, hey! Small world!" Vince remarked.

"We're having a conversation," Paige spat.

"Cheer captain here might enjoy watching you take on four wheels of muscle car," Vince smirked as he gestured to Sierra and her friend who were standing there gossiping to one another quietly.

"Are you challenging me to a race?" Jack asked in surprise.

"You catch on quick, ponch. What do you say?" Vince asked impatiently.

Jack saw Sierra encouraging him to accept the challenge. He looked at Paige who was frowning at him. Honestly, she was caught in the middle and she thought it was a terrible idea. Optimus had set rules and for good reasons. Reasons like this one.

As soon as the light turned green, Arcee took off at lightning speed, causing Jack and Paige to yell in surprise at the sudden takeoff.

"You didn't let me answer!" Jack exclained. "Nope," Arcee said.

"But Arcee, we can smoke him!" Jack objected.

"Yep," she said, earning a frustrated sigh from her charge. "You just don't get it," he said.

"I don't make the rules, Jack. Optimus does," Arcee said, "and rule number one, in case you guys missed it: never abuse power for personal gain. And that includes horse power."

"Oh come on! I could finally get him to leave Paige alone!" Jack exclaimed. "As much as I would love to kick his tailpipe for messing with Paige, my answer is no," Arcee said firmly as Vince drove up beside them.

"Vince, maybe racing isn't such a good idea," Jack declined, causing Vince to laugh tormentally.

"Figured. You ride around like you're bike's something special. But it's just a chunky, lunky trike! And ugly!" Vince tormented before racing away as soon as the lights turned green.

"That's it! The yahoo's going down!" Arcee proclaimed before racing after Vince at high speeds.

"Whoa! What happened to rule number one?" Jack asked.

"Gets bent. Just this once," Arcee decided, much to Jack's excitement and much to Paige's dismay.

◊◊◊◊

"Yo, girls! Your pals, Darby and Kendrick, they're-."

"Ready when you are, Vinny!"

To Vince's surprise, when he turned his attention away from Sierra and her friend, he saw Jack, Paige and Arcee next to him all revved up and ready to go.

"Dirt road by trucker's ranch. One hour," was Vince's answer.

◊◊◊◊

When the hour had passed, Jack and Vince were on the dirt road at trucker's ranch ready to go. Sierra, Paige and Sierra's friend stood by the edge of the road eager to witness the showdown between muscle car and motorcycle.

"From here to the next mile mark. Ready. GO!" Vince yelled before taking off.

"Well, that was fair," Jack remarked sarcastically as Arcee took off after Vince.

As Vince and Jack rode past, Sierra and her friend had to place their hands on their skirts to stop themselves from flashing what they had underneath.

"That's why I wear pants," Paige said to Sierra and her friend.

"Uh...Arcee," Jack trailed off.

"Winning isn't enough, Jack. You wanna make him CRY," Arcee cut him short. Vince was surprised when he noticed that the motorcycle was no longer visible through his rearview mirror. He heard the sound of an engine next to him. He turned around and was surprised to see Jack and Arcee riding along next to him! Jack waved casually as Arcee pulled a wheelie and swerved past him at impossible speeds.

"Wha?" Vince gasped.

Arcee did a little honk in victory as they drove past the mile marker before Vince. Jack let out a whoop in celebration.

"OUTSTANDING!" Jack cried. "You know, now might be a good time to give Sierra just a quick ride around the block?" He asked hopefully.

"Don't push it," was Arcee's answer and he grumbled.

◊◊◊◊

"Ah, Breakdown, Comet. Has there been any change in Megatron's condition?" Ember asked as she walked into the medbay.

"Only cosmetic," Breakdown answered honestly as he folded the buffer back into his arm.

"Well, I am sure that you and the good doctor have been doing everything in your power. Where is Knockout?" She asked, looking around. As if on cue, the Decepticon medic walked into the medbay.

"Can you believe what some skinjob did to me?" Knockout huffed as he inspected the scratch on his arm.

"Have you been out street racing with humans again?" Ember frowned. "I'm not only an automobile, I'm an automobile enthusiast," Knockout said nonchalantly.

Ember frowned deeply, "we run a tight ship around here Knockout. I strongly suggest that you request permission from me next time you decide to disappear on your little jaunts."

"No worries, Red," Knockout said dismissively. Ember gave a low, warning growl.

"Mistress Ember," Knockout corrected. "The day our master emerges from stasis, I shall gladly relinquish that title," Ember huffed, "but I believe that outcome is unlikely something to do with the quality of medical care around here. So continue buffing as we do want Megatron looking his best for the memorial." With that, she turned and walked out of the medbay.

Knockout groaned, "buff this." Comet gave him a look, "Knockout."

"You hush," the Decepticon medic huffed.

◊◊◊◊

Arcee drove into the base. Jack and Paige dismounted Arcee, allowing the Autobot to transform into her bipedal form.

"Not a word to anyone," she said firmly. "Our little secret," Jack said with a wink. Arcee smiled and she walked away.

"Dude! Vroom vroom vroom! And the winner is...," Miko smirked at the two of them.

"Jack!" Paige finished as she and Miko performed their handshake.

"Miko, who told you?" Jack asked nervously.

"You kidding? It's all over school!" Miko told them.

"You beat the pants off that blowhard bully Vince!" Raf cheered, "And I'm sure he'll leave Paige alone now because of how protective her big brother best friend forever is!"

Raf and Miko let out yells of surprise as Jack and Paige suddenly pulled them into a group huddle.

"You guys have to keep this on the DL. Especially from Optimus," Jack hissed.

"Why?" Miko asked.

"Because that race totally broke rule number one: never abuse power for personal gain," Paige said, "and I'd rather not let the Prime know that I'm the target of bullying."

"What are you four doing?"

Jack, Paige, Miko and Raf jumped and yelled in surprise as they turned around and saw Optimus standing there with a curious expression on his face.

"Uh...nothing," Jack answered with a nervous chuckle.

"Just talking about...stuff at school," Paige shrugged.

"Top secret stuff!" Miko piped in.

"Stuff you don't wanna know," Raf added.

Optimus let out a hum and raised his optic ridge. He knew something was up. Thinking that the four of them would tell him eventually, he left them to their devices. As soon as he was out of earshot, they all let out sighs of relief and slumped against one another.

"That was close," Jack sighed in relief.

"I can't believe we lied to him," Paige moaned.

"I can't believe how robotic we sounded," Miko retorted.

"How did we manage to keep the secret so long?" Raf asked, causing the other three to laugh.

Raf was right. If they had trouble telling a lie to the leader of the Autobots, how did they manage to keep the secret of their existence for as long as they had so far?

◊◊◊◊

At school, Jack walked down the stairs, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Hey. I've been looking for you," Sierra said as she came out of the school with a duffle bag, "The race! How great was that?! I was like, 'Yeah! Go Jack!'"

"It was no big deal," Jack shrugged.

"You got that right!" Vince agreed as he shoved his way past Jack, "If you think you can run with the big boys, The Circuit. 11 PM."

Paige walked towards Jack and she stopped when she saw Vince and Sierra. Jack was staring at Vince before he frowned, "...fine. If I win, you leave Paige alone."

Paige widened her eyes and Sierra smiled. Vince huffed, "deal."

◊◊◊◊

"You agreed to WHAT?!" Arcee demanded as she drove down the road with Jack and Paige.

"It was some kind of secret racing club. I don't know. I had no choice. Sierra was right there!" Jack defended himself.

"You always have a choice Jack," Arcee said sternly, "and what part of 'just this once' did you not understand?"

"I know, I'm sorry," Jack sighed, "but we're on right?"

"We are not on," Arcee said firmly as she drove into the base.

◊◊◊◊

Knockout was driving down the road when Breakdown called. "Knockout, Ember's looking for you. Where did you go?" He asked through the commlink.

"Oh, just out for a little drive," Knockout said, "I just roll from town to town sniffing around until...the next opportunity presents itself. He saw a car race past him and he changed gears to catch up with it.

◊◊◊◊

Back at the base, it was pretty quiet. Everyone was off doing their own little thing...except Raf who remained behind to play video games. He was actually doing well...until Jack distracted him and caused him to crash.

"Raf? Uh...is there any way I can borrow Bumblebee for an hour?" Jack requested nervously, causing Bumblebee to widen his optics in surprise. "Don't involve me in this!"

"Jack," Paige said in a warning tone. "Jack, you know racing's against the rules," Raf said, "what if Optimus found out?" "He'd be mad!" Bee exclaimed, his doorwings twitching with nervousness.

"But Raf, he's gotta get the girl!" Miko exclaimed, "and beat the bully!"

"Jack, I appreciate you protecting me but I don't need you getting into trouble because of me," Paige said.

"This isn't because of you, Paigey," Jack said sternly, "I'm doing this to protect you. And to prove a point."

"Well...," Raf trailed off, still unsure about letting Bumblebee race.

"Come on, Raf. Just this once?" Jack pleaded him sincerely. Raf looked both worried and unsure.

◊◊◊◊

The moon cast a luminous shadow over the circuit. Racers and their girlfriends lingered around the starting line of the track. They were conversing. Talking about how they were going to win the race against some of the best. So they were amazed when they saw a black-and-yellow muscle Camero roll up onto the scene.

But no one was more surprised then Vince as he waited patiently at the starting line for the race to start. He couldn't even HIDE how surprised he was when Jack rolled down the window so they could see eye-to-eye.

"Bike's in the shop," Jack shrugged.

Vince didn't say anything in response. He just turned to the track laid out before him. Suddenly, something beautiful blocked their view. Jack leant back into Bumblebee's seat in surprise at the sight. It was Sierra. She just stood there smiling and waving at him innocently.

"Circuit drivers, are you ready? Make it mean but keep it clean! Fire 'em up in 5...4...3...2...1!"

However, behind them, nobody noticed another car pull up. What was more important was the fact that Jack and Bumblebee didn't notice the new racer. And that is because the new racer is Knockout.

When the countdown had finished, Sierra threw her hands to the ground and crouched low. Then she turned and watched the drivers begin to race around the circuit. They didn't notice Knockout riding along a little too close to them.

"The Autobot they call Bumblebee," Knockout remarked. Knockout decided to make himself known. And to do that, he rammed himself into Vince's car and immediately took the lead from him.

"What's Knockout doing here?" Bumblebee buzzed when he spotted Knockout.

"What was that, Bee?" Jack asked worriedly before glancing in the rearview mirror as Bumblebee continued his concerned bleeps, "Wait. I know that car."

Jack yelled out in surprise as Bumblebee suddenly veered right and began driving along the wall. Knockout immediately copied his actions...with a gun popping out from near his cap for the fuel tank! Immediately, the Decepticon began firing shots at the young Autobot. Bumblebee did his best to avoid Knockout's shots. Vince breathed out his surprise as he saw Jack and Bumblebee drive up the wall and jump off the track. Knockout immediately followed suite.

"Can you lose him, Bee?" Jack asked nevously, earning bleeps in response, "What'd you say? ...I hope that means 'yes.' Cause I'd rather not call base for back-up."

◊◊◊◊

"Anyone seen Jack?" Arcee asked casually, causing Miko and Raf to freeze nervously.

"Not since we last saw him," Miko answered nervously.

"...they're racing, aren't they?" Arcee asked knowingly.

"Just this once," Raf piped in nervously.

"Did you know about this?" Arcee asked Nightwalker, WhiteRain, Bulkhead.

"No...maybe...a little," Nightwalker answered nervously. Bumblebee suddenly called in. "Bumblebee to base. We're being chased by Knockout. Require backup."

"You're being chased by Knockout?!" Raf repeated in disbelief. "Take evasive action?" Bumblebee asked.

"That sounds like a Decepticon," Miko remarked as she stood up with her first clenched.

"Bee, do not engage. Your first priority is to keep Jack safe," Arcee said firmly, "until I get my hands on him." "Arcee, let me come," Paige said.

"Paige, no. I'm not putting you in danger," Arcee said firmly. "Jack is my best friend and my brother," Paige said sternly, "and I want to kick Knockout's tailpipe for shoving me into that museum's glass last week."

"Anyone else scared of her right now?" WhiteRain asked, earning nods from Bulkhead and Nightwalker.

Arcee frowned at Paige before she sighed, "alright." She transformed into her vehicle form and Paige climbed on. Bulkhead, WhiteRain and Nightwalker transformed into their vehicle forms and drove after Arcee.

◊◊◊◊

Bumblebee and Jack continued driving along the road. They had a hard time shaking Knockout off their trail who continued to fire at them. So Bumblebee leaked some oil on the road behind him. The laws of friction didn't agree with rotating tires coming into contact with slick oil. So as the story goes, Knockout lost control of the car.

"Slick," Jack remarked.

Bumblebee drove himself back onto the track in the circuit and backed himself under a bridge. Knockout eventually regained his footing and began driving back towards the circuit. He came to a stop at the beginning of the bridge Bumblebee was hiding under. Sensing Knockout's presence, he shut off his lights and engine. Jack froze, trying not to make a sound or move. His internal sensors read no signs of any Autobot or Decepticon in the area. So he put pedal to the medal and drove right out of there.

"I think we lost him, Bee," Jack whispered. Then Jack was faced with another problem. And that problem was Vince. Vince came to a stop in front of the odd duo. His face was beginning to turn red in pure anger.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding me!" Jack groaned.

"Darby," Vince growled as he pounded his fist into his open hand.

Knockout just happened to hear that, having not fully left the facility at this present time. Burnt rubber made its mark on the road as the car suddenly activated its breaks and made a complete stop in the middle of the road. He used his sideview mirrors to look for a sign. ANY sign of his foe. So when he saw the colours of bumper lights, he immediately changed gears and reversed back to the bridge, another advantage of driving on an empty road taken by him.

"Vince! You have to get out of here, OK? You win! Congradulations! Now go!" Jack pleaded.

"No. No. Start and back-up, loser. We're finishing this race! Don't wanna take it to the finishing line? Fine! Then we've got something to settle right here! Right now!" Vince proclaimed.

Vince's rant was suddenly cut off by his own screaming. Jack was surprised and concerned as a giant black hand reached down and scooped up Vince into his palm. And that hand just happened to belong to Knockout. Vince yelled out in surprise as he was thrown into the air while Knock Out transformed into his vehicular mode. Vince landed in Knockout's passenger seat with a grunt. He protested as the sunroof slammed shut above his head and the seatbelt wrapped themselves around his frame tightly, preventing any means of escape for Vince.

"What's going on?" he demanded, afraid of what could happen.

An Energon zapper appeared before Vince's eyes. Energon sparks flew from the prong for his head. As he felt the sparks take their effect on him, Vince moaned and slumped forward into the seat as he passed out. Satisfied with the current state of his captive, Knockout switched on the ignition and drove away, putting pedal to the metal once again. Jack ran up the side hill onto the road in the hopes of stopping Knockout for getting away with the bully. But he was too late. Knockout was gone, disappearing in a cloud of sand and dust as he disappeared into the dark horizon.

◊◊◊◊

"Breakdown, you'll never guess what I'm packing," Knock Out gushed excitedly as he continued down the highway with Vince unconscious and bound in his passenger seat, "Bumblebee's human friend! And when the Autobot attempts to stage a rescue..."

"He has a...breakdown!"

◊◊◊◊

"Bee, he's getting away!" Jack cried as Bumblebee approached him, bleeping his idea to him, "I-I-I can't understand you! Look. I'm not Raf! Can't you just honk once for bad news and honk twice for good news?"

Bumblebee seemed to like that idea. Finally, he found a method of communication Jack would understand. So he honked twice, telling Jack that he had good news indeed. Jack virtually melted in relief at understanding the mute Autobot. Well...he did until he saw Arcee, Nightwalker, WhiteRain and Bulkhead arrive. And Paige was with them and she wasn't happy.

When Paige hopped off of Arcee's vehicle form, she marched over to her best friend/brother and whacked him on the head, making him flinch and rub the back of his head.

"Jack, we need to chat," Arcee said, placing her servo on her hip. "Later, Arcee. Vince got snatched by that slick sports car 'Con!" Jack announced.

"What would Knockout want with that guy?" WhiteRain asked, surprised.

"He probably mistook him for Bumblebee's human friend. I'm not even Bumblebee's human friend," Jack said, "Look. It doesn't matter why they took him! Vince is in trouble!"

"Oh well. Tough break for Vince," Bulkhead shrugged carelessly, making Arcee, WhiteRain, Bumblebee and Nightwalker look at him.

"Bulkhead!" Paige and Jack exclaimed. Bulkhead looked at them, "what? Hear the guy's a jerk. Even more so to Paige."

"Okay, no argument there but the guy's also innocent," Paige huffed, "he doesn't deserve to get hurt- especially by the Cons."

Arcee furrowed her optic ridges before she transformed into her vehicle form, "hop on."

◊◊◊◊

"They should have called by now," Raf said worriedly, "do you think Bumblebee's okay?"

"Don't worry Raf. Bulkhead and WhiteRain won't let anything happen to Jack or Bee," Miko said reassuringly. Then the two heard heavy pedesteps and turned to Optimus walking into the main hangar.

"We should just tell Optimus the truth," Raf whispered. "Absolutely not!" Miko whispered back, "we made a deal! Just act completely normal."

"Raf, Miko, do either of you know where the others have gone?" Optimus asked as he walked up to them.

"Why, no sir," Miko said nonchalantly, "we do not know."

"Miko is correct," Raf said with a nervous smile, "we do not know." "Why would we know?" Miko asked as she and Raf nervously smiled at the Autobot leader.

Optimus only raised an optic ridge at the two.

◊◊◊◊

The chase for Knock Out and Vince continued, despite the fact that it was – by now – the early hours of the morning. But they wouldn't give up. Especially since their secret was at risk. When they heard the sound of a car coming at an intersection, they stopped to allow the car to go through. The red and white car whizzed by. Jack, Paige and Arcee realized that it was Knockout. So they immediately took off after him.

"Bumblebee brought company," Knockout observed.

"On your guard, boys and girls. Could be a trap," Arcee warned.

"And remember. No shooting," Jack reminded the two boys.

"Speaking of safety, Jack, this is where you get off," Arcee said. Paige looked to Jack and flicked her tail.

She and Arcee took off. As they drove around the place, Bumblebee, Nightwalker, WhiteRain and Bulkhead saw a giant hole in the wire fence. Suspecting trouble, they immediately transformed into their bipedal modes and unfolded their blasters. Paige was climbing up the water tower, ready to attack from above in case trouble came.

Knockout turned his front lights on, temporarily blinding Bulkhead and Bumblebee. Then from the wall next to them, Breakdown and Echo broke their way into the fight. Breakdown's hammer hit the road between Bulkhead, Nightwalker, WhiteRain and Bumblebee, causing the two to flip away. Bumblebee stood ready to fight. But Breakdown easily knocked him out of the way. Eventually, he did the same to Bulkhead. Nightwalker and WhiteRain charged at Breakdown and Echo, taking out their weapons.

Vince was still in Knockout's passenger seat unconscious. However, Knockout's didn't care at the moment. His mind was occupied with another quest.

"Where's the two-wheeler and the little half breed?" he asked himself. Arcee and Paige dropped down onto the Decepticon medic's hood.

Arcee started punching at Knockout's hood. "Hey! Watch the paint! It's custom!" He snapped.

"Seriously?" Arcee grinned. Paige, as she was in her lioness form, dug her claws into the hood of Knockout's car.

The tires squealed as Knockout rolled out, with Arcee and Paige riding along on top of him. The fight between Breakdown, Bulkhead and Bumblebee continued, unaware of the situation with Arcee, Paige, Knockout and Vince.

Outside, Jack's attention was captured by the sound of squealing tires. He turned and saw Knockout attempting an escape with Arcee and Paige standing on top of him, trying to maintain balance. Eventually, Arcee and Paige lost their balance and fell off. But Arcee transformed into her vehicular mode and caught Paige before the two chased Knockout into the night.

"That's my girls!" Jack cheered to himself quietly.

◊◊◊◊

"Uh, Breakdown, in case you're looking for me, things got messy. So I hit the road. One scream is enough for today," Knockout said through the commlink.

No sooner then Knockout had said that, Breakdown turned around and found himself smacked in the face with a lamppost, sending him flying through the same wall he broke through before. And that hit was courtesy of Bulkhead.

◊◊◊◊

The chase between Autobot, Galatrian and Decepticon continued. Arcee and Paige were hot on Knockout's tail. So Knockout added more pressure to the accelerator and gained more miles ahead of them, causing Arcee and Paige to groan in frustration at yet another lost chance.

"Eat my dust," Knockout smirked at them. There was a loud truck horn and Optimus drove up beside Knockout. With a gentle nudge from the Prime, Knockout lost control of himself and drove into a ditch.

"Optimus, Knockout has a hostage," Arcee said. Optimus transformed into his bipedal form and he walked over to Knockout.

Optimus picked Knockout up and held him in the air by his rear bumper. Knockout screamed in pain as Optimus riped the driver's side door off of the main frame. Carefully, Optimus reached inside the interior of the car and freed the still-unconscious Vince from his current predicament. With Vince safe in his servo, he simply threw Knockout to the side as he transformed.

"Do you know how hard that is to replace?" Knockout had screeched after observing the damage to his arm. That was when he realized he was outnumbered.

Bulkhead, WhiteRain and Nightwalker aimed their blasters at the Decepticon medic.

'Scrap! If I'm not in trouble with these bots, then I'm in trouble with Ember!' Knockout thought before he transformed into his vehicle form and sped away.

Optimus turned to the others. Bumblebee drove up beside Arcee, Jack inside his vehicle form.

"Optimus... this is my fault," Jack sighed. "We must get this boy to safety. Explanations can come later...from all of you," Optimus said sternly.

Nightwalker lowered his head and WhiteRain's shoulders slumped guiltily.

"We're in trouble," Bumblebee said quietly.

◊◊◊◊

Vince came to hours after he was taken from the circuit by Knockout. Only, he didn't find himself in Knockout's car. He found himself in Bumblebee's passenger seat with Jack driving.

"How did? What happened?" Vince groaned as he sat up.

"Some guys jumped you under the bridge. They tossed you into their trunk. Must have been some kind of initiation," Jack shrugged convincingly.

"Really?" Vince asked, startled. "Yeah. Found you knocked out on the side of the road," Jack said before he stopped next to Vince's car, "Look. I gotta be honest. After what I saw tonight, I think racing isn't really my thing."

"I hear you, Darby. Hard to win a race driving a pedal car!" Vince sneered, causing Bumblebee to put pedal to the metal and drove away.

◊◊◊◊

Knockout walked down the hallway as Echo and Comet walked over to him. "What happened to you?" Echo asked, noticing the damage on his arm.

"Knockout, to the control bridge. Now," Ember announced through the commlink. Knockout lowered his helm and the three walked to the command center.

When the doors opened, Comet walked over to Breakdown and Echo walked over to Soundwave.

Ember turned to Knockout, her optics showing bridled fury. "You were supposed to be tending to Lord Megatron," she said sternly, "instead... you decided to go and defy my orders and pull a careless stunt like this."

Knockout flinched as he lowered his helm, not wanting to meet his leader's optics. Ember was no angle. As the alpha of the Decepticons, she would not hesitate in punishing soldiers. Even if those soldiers were her friends.

Ember looked to Starscream, "Starscream will be the one to give you a lesson you won't seem to forget." She turned back to the screens as Starscream walked towards Knockout.

Comet widened his optics and he stepped forward but Breakdown put his arm in front of the young mech and silently shook his helm.

"Not to worry," Starscream said to Knockout, showing a sharp claw, "your punishment shall be merely... cosmetic."

No! Not the finish! Anything but the finish!" Knockout pleaded before Breakdown, Echo and Comet cringed at the sound of screeching metal and the sounds of Knockout's screams.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

◊◊◊◊

The next day, Jack walked over to Arcee and climbed onto her vehicle form. "Hey, Jack. Do you have time for that ride?" Sierra asked hopefully.

"I'm sorry, Sierra. I can't right now," Jack apologized regretfully.

"No problem. I guess I'll just see you around," Sierra shrugged sadly before walking away.

"Hop on," Arcee invited as she pulled up next to him.

"Whoa. Really?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Just this once," Arcee emphasized.

◊◊◊◊

Jack smiled as he and Sierra drove down the road, enjoying the sights before them.

[goggles-mcgee]

A Little Birdy Told Me

Based off the AU by @ozmav , and inspired by @particularlygeeky ! I love Lizzie okay and i love her fic Little Ladybird.

________________________

Summary

Marinette is dealing with knowing Adrien is Chat while on the school trip to Gotham, while also having to deal with more of Lila's lies. It wasn't enough to turn everyone against her she guessed, apparently Lila was set on making sure Marinette felt no happiness. But Marinette makes friends in Gotham, friends that are willing to throw down for her. Out of all things she could have guessed would happen on this trip, falling in love was not one of them. She also didn't expect to reveal her identity to the Batfamily, she also didn't expect to find out their identities either.

Meanwhile Adrien is trying to figure out how to make Marinette his finally, one way or another.

Notes:

I know what some of you are thinking, Goggles why the hell did you start another fic when you got so many going on????? My answer: I'm weak to a cute ship. I am very very weak.

I hope you guys enjoy!

__________________________

It was dark out already and everyone knew not to stay out at night in Gotham, even tourists, but here Marinette was walking aimlessly, trying to find the hotel her and her class were staying at. It didn’t help that her phone had died an hour ago after her following the directions displayed back to the hotel, she hadn’t noticed how low her battery had been so she had kept the app open, she was still hours away, if she had to guess. She knew this trip wouldn’t be great but she had held onto the hope that everyone would be preoccupied with the new place enough to leave her alone, but she had been wrong. Somehow Lila had convinced everyone to leave the hotel earlier than they had planned, of course the day Marinette is early is the day they ditch her at the hotel. She decided to try and catch up with them by taking a taxi but she underestimated just how slow and hectic traffic could be, by the time she got to Wayne Tower she was told that her class had already toured most of the tower but that they would be on one of the upper floors. So she raced up to where they were only to see them get into the elevator, then she ran all the way back downstairs as fast as she could, but at that point she had been so tired that she just couldn’t catch up. The sight of everyone getting in the bus filled Marinette with such relief, she could catch up to them, she yelled out to her teacher who was the last one to get on the bus but it seemed like she didn’t hear her and the bus was quick to take off.

 Marinette had just stood there watching the bus drive off in disbelief. She had shouted, her teacher had to have heard her, right? Then why did they leave her again? Especially in Gotham! The Class President had put a whole presentation together on Gotham, especially about the crime and the curfew that they should stick to considering they were tourists. That’s specifically why she pushed so hard to book a hotel near the Wayne Botanical Garden instead of the one near Crime Alley like Principal Damocles wanted them to stay at.

 Needless to say she was on edge as she walked, her feet were killing her and she had a migraine, she definitely didn’t think she could try and grab another cab when it had taken her so long to get one earlier. At least Tikki and Kaalki were with her, she wanted to just transform into Ladybug but what if someone saw? Ladybug couldn’t be seen in Gotham, not yet anyways, and she would have asked Kaalki to open a portal for her but she didn’t have anymore sugar cubes to give to the kwami. Eventually, everything just got too much and she stopped in the middle of the alley she had been taking as a short cut and sat down, she couldn’t stop the tears that ran down her face, nor could she hold back her sobs.

 She was…she was just so exhausted. With everything, with school, with Hawkmoth, with everyone basically, and she was fed up with not getting to cry, so she let herself do just that, just to get rid of all the pent up emotions that swirled dangerously inside her. Her heart ached, her throat was starting to feel sore from her sobbing, and her lungs begged for more air, but she didn’t care.

 “It’s coming from over here Pam-a-lamb!” A voice said from somewhere behind her in the alley, it had a slight accent but she couldn’t place it. That was beside the point, someone was approaching and she didn’t know I’d they were friend or for so she slowly pushed herself up and tried to stop crying but that didn’t really work, if anything it made it worse.

 “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Another voice said, this one was softer. Great there was two of them! She needed to say something anything, but her voice wouldn’t come out, she realized it was even hard to breathe. She couldn’t breathe! She needed to breath!

 “Hey, hey, hey! You’re okay doll, everything is okay. Can you breathe with me?” The first voice asked, Marinette looked up when she felt one of her hands grabbed, she flinched and tried to tug her hand away but the person had a good grip. They placed her hand on their chest and breathed slowly. In, and out. In, and out. She soon found herself copying the breathing, she finally got control of her tears and blinked the rest away so she could see things other than colorful blobs.

 “You’re doing great!” The woman who had placed her hand on her chest said, she finally got a good look at her, she was blonde from what she could see under the red and black jester-like hat, she had white face paint with a black and red mask over her eyes, pink blush stood out among the face paint. Her outfit seemed to follow the black and red theme with a collared shirt jumper over a leotard that went and disappeared into boots. Marinette could feel the leather of the gloves that held her hand. The other woman had vibrant red hair, her skin had a green hue to it, her clothes seemed to be coming from her, like she grew them. The top was white, it looked like it had veins, almost like flower petals, vines act as a belt while her pants seemed to be made of leaves.

 Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, she recognized them from her research on the city. She knew that they were rogues, sometimes antiheros, it really depended on the day of the week it seemed, with how they were acting she was hoping they were feeling more antihero.

 “What’s wrong sweetheart?” Ivy asked as she pet Marinette’s hair, the girl couldn’t help but lean into the gentle touch, sure she got a lot of physical affection from her parents, but they weren’t here and she soaked up whatever comfort she could get.

 “I-I…it’s just been a really long day.” Marinette stuttered out before she launched into a full explanation of the day she had been having, she did her best to not break out in tears again, she surprisingly was able to do that, she chalked it up to the fact that Harley was sitting by her and a had a hand around her shoulders while Ivy held her hand. As she explained she completely missed the two women exchange looks of rage at what they were hearing.

 “I’m sorry you had to go through that my pet,” Ivy said in a soft voice as she stood up and helped Marinette up, “would you like us to take you to the police station?”

 Marinette shook her head with wide eyes. She really didn’t need to give her classmates more fuel to add to add to their dumpster fire of secrets and ridicule of her. “I’m sure things will be better tomorrow, but uh, can you help me back to my hotel? My phone was giving me directions, but it died.”

 “Of course, Doll! Where you stayin’?” Harley asked as she and Ivy walked on either side of Marinette, Harley still had her arm around Marinette’s shoulder, but the girl really didn’t mind, she felt comfortable with them, which really surprised her, but she knew the two weren’t anything like Joker or any other villain, they were more like Luka when he became Silencer. That reminded her that she was supposed to call him and Kagami to tell them about her first day in Gotham.

 “At Gotham Grandeur.”

 “You would have been walking for hours! How could they do that, don’t they know how dangerous Gotham can be?” Seethed Ivy, orange lilies started to bloom in her hair and thorns seemed to protrude from her vine belt.

 “I covered that in my presentation on Gotham weeks before we left, I wanted to have all bases covered, I mean it is my responsibility of class president…but I guess my teacher forgot or something.” She lamented, the ‘or intentionally forgot,’ remained unspoken. “That’s just my luck really but I guess Lady Luck decided to grant me some luck today! Afterall I got to meet you guys!”

 The two rogues smiled down at her and she smiled back, more genuinely than she had in a long time. She smiled more when Ivy asked if she would be okay if they traveled with her vines on the rooftops, she claimed it would be much faster and she said it would be safer for Marinette. Really, she had no problem with it, especially when some of the vines held her carefully when they jumped over to another building, kind of like a seatbelt. The thought made her giggle. It took them awhile but eventually Marinette was back at the hotel, she could see some of her classmates hanging out in the lobby, making her freeze, she really didn’t have the energy to deal with them if they noticed her.

 Apparently, Ivy and her vines felt Marinette freeze up. “Are you okay sweetie?”

 “Um, well, my classmates are in the lobby, and well we don’t exactly get along. I just really don’t want them to see me.” Marinette explained in a hurry as she tried to hide herself behind Ivy and Harley when Adrien turned to look outside, she couldn’t see him so she hoped he couldn’t see her.

 “Do you remember which room is yours?” Harley asked, her voice was cheerful, but Marinette could hear the slight fakeness to it.

 “Room 7021. Mine has a balcony…” She said, she felt the vines grab her once more before they lifted her to the seventh floor, right at her balcony, which thankfully she didn’t lock the door to her room when she had stepped out to take a look at the city and the gardens they were near. “Thank you so much, for everything. Oh, wait here!”

 Marinette rushed into her room and opened up the box that she had wrapped in some clothes and took out two macarons. Her parents had sent her with an assortment of them that way she had something to remind her that they loved her. Also so she could have a taste of home while she was out in an unfamiliar place. She quickly made her way to the two women who were leaning against the rails of her balcony. They smiled when she came back and she easily returned their smiles as she handed each of them a lemon raspberry macaron.

 “As a thank you.”

 “Doll you didn’t have to!” Harley squealed out before she immediately stuffed the macaron in her mouth.

 Ivy chuckled and smiled fondly at her clown, “She’s right, but thanks all the same…uh?”

 “Oh my god, I didn’t tell you guys my name. I’m Marinette!”

 “Thank you Mari-gold, it was nice to meet you dear, we’ll leave you so you can rest.” Ivy said as she nudged Harley with her shoulder, Harley nodded before picking up Marinette in a big hug.

 “Hope to see you again, Doll!”

 “Me too!” Marinette giggled. She watched as they left, and for the first time in a long time she went to bed not feeling dread about tomorrow. She really hoped she got to see them again. Hopefully she would, but she was really excited for their tour tomorrow, they were going to be going back to Wayne Tower and she was excited to actually tour the place with no rush.

  ----------------------------

 Ivy and Harley took a break on a roof, still close to Marinette’s hotel. Ivy was barely holding in the urge to cover the whole hotel in her vines and letting them have a couple snacks, but she took deep breaths to quell the tempting thought. Harley was doing no better as she swung her mallet around to relieve some stress.

 “They left her to fend for herself, Red…That’s just, that’s just wrong!” Harley yelled out as she paced back and forth on the roof.

 “I know, Love, I’m not exactly happy about it either. She was such a sweetheart; I don’t see how they could forget about her like that.”

 “I think something is going on with her and that class of hers.” Harley grumbled out as she came to stand with Ivy at the edge of the building. “Every time she mentioned them, she would curl in on herself, like she was trying to make herself seem smaller. That’s not okay. And the way she described being left behind? Yeah that was a load of baloney.”

 “You think they left her on purpose?” Ivy asked, she really hoped Harley was wrong.

 “I think we might need to seek out the Bat just so he can be on the look out just in case they “forget” her again.” Harley said with a frown as she stared off in the direction of the hotel they had just come from. Ivy really didn’t want to have to talk to the Bat but arley was right, it would be the smartest thing to do for Mari-gold.

   ___________________________

Bugs Before Hugs @immagothamitetermite

#onlyingotham I swear I just saw Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy on some rooftops with a teenage girl, it could also be the Red bull and coffee taking effect though. #essayduetomorrow #killmemydudes #thatsnotaninvitationroguesisweartogod 

Next

[swimyghost]

Be Careful

Sup bros, this is the first fanfic in what I’m calling the Shared Universe between my friends @wickedhellagoodtime @holyfandomsnazz @self-insert-nonsense

I hope you all enjoy.

College was boring. That wasn't an opinion but a fact to many. Although college was newly free humans and nonhumans’ first taste of freedom, the long lectures and the even longer list of assignments wore many down.

All except for one.

??????, or simply Six-Q to their three friends, was an odd student, to say the least. They were nonbinary, a target for simple teasing and major bigots alike, but they never fought back. No, they left the fighting to their 6'1 werewolf friend who wasn't afraid to use her natural strength again childish older teens. Six-Q also suffered from the fact that no one could identify if they were human or not. Their eyes were a bright neon purple, a color that matched the tips of their black hair. Their body was slender and tall, but not a giant compared to the real giants that occupied the campus. Six-Q was also quiet, very quiet, but it wasn't due to shyness or being anti-social. It was because their mouth was sewn shut with ebony thread.

"Why do you have that stupid thread anyway?" asked Six-Q's first-ever college friend, Riley.

Six-Q let an exhale out of their nose. Riley Stormcross was a stubborn, high-class woman who didn't take a simple 'no' for an answer. More simply, Riley was a well-off daddy's girl who hated simple explanations and wanted to pry into everyone's life. That wasn't to say she was completely full of negative traits, Riley was fiercely loyal to her friends but downright venomous to her enemies. Six-Q once saw her drunkenly fight off two frat boys because started calling them a queer. They were rather impressed after she won that battle while completely intoxicated and could walk stably enough to get more drinks.

"I told you, it’s complicated," Six-Q said, flashing signs underneath the rounded lecture hall table so the teacher won't notice.

"Yeah, well, I've been your friend for like, two years now? You have to tell me why." Riley huffed, crossing her arms over her teal crop top. Six-Q could vaguely make out a worn cartoon storm cloud with an angry face printed in the middle of her crop top.

"Please, I don't want to talk about it." Six-Q attempted to weasel their way out of the conversation. Their literally sealed lips were a sensitive topic they'd rather not think about. 

"C'mon, it can't be that bad! Besides, I told you my secret technique on how to get neckbeards to tip more when-"

"Ms. Stormcross! Leave Mr. Q alone. Just because I seated you next to him to translate doesn't mean you have the right to speak with him whenever."

Oh, no was they only thought Six-Q had. All the rest of the students thought the same because nervous looks they had when they peered over at the electric blue-haired girl. Riley's left eye twitch. "They."

"Pardon?" the teacher said, sounding tired as if he had this conversation before. 

"Six-Q uses they/them pronouns. We've been over this, like, what, six times, old man." Riley snapped.

"That's Professor Walker to you, young lady, and I don't appreciate your tone." Professor Walker's eyes narrowed into slits.

Riley's own sky blue eyes followed suit. "I'd be a lot happier if you actually tried to use the correct pronouns for once. Have you forgotten who my father is? One call to the dean and he'll have your teaching license suspended."

Barrett Stormcross was a meteorologist to the rest of the world. But to the nonhuman and human communities who knew about the world of witches, he was a powerful storm witch with the ability to predict and create most, if not all, storms. Six-Q hadn't met the man, but judging by the quiet gasps and the reddening face of the teacher, he was a big deal.

"I will not tolerate threats in my classroom, Ms. Stormcross! Leave, now!"

"Fine!" Riley shouted back. She began shoveling her textbooks and notebooks into her tote bag and stormed out of the classroom while giving Professor Walker a death glare. The hard slam of the wooden door shook the whole room. Six-Q swore another crack had been added to the list of cracks and missing wood fragments on the door. The lecture hall wasn't big, so Six-Q couldn't easily hide under the desk in shame, away from the stares that all the students, from the students sitting on the same level as Six-Q to those in the higher level desks.

"Uh, Mr. Wa-"

"Professor!" the teacher snapped. Six-Q could see that he was frantically trying to compose himself by brushing his white hair and beard and flicking off invisible pieces of dirt from his vest.

"Yeah, right. Professor Walker, what do we do about the deaf kid?"

Mute! Six-Q thought tartly. Professor Walker glared at them, causing the older teen to shrink into their seat.

"Well, guess he won't be able to participate, will he?"

No one dared corrected his misgendering, choosing to listen to the professor ramble on about psychology and the human mind once more. Six-Q could barely focus on Walker's words. A wave of anger was building in their chest. One that wasn't entirely their own.

Calm down, please! Six-Q silently panicked.

"And that concludes the topic on social cognition. Now, we have a test next week on Wednesday so study, all of you!"

Six-Q blinked back to the present noticing their classmates passing them without even looking in their direction. The only thing a student did that got any sort of reaction from Six-Q was one of their Fae classmates had flown directly over them, nearly hitting them in the back of the head. Six-Q quickly stuffed their books into their backpack and tried to race out of the classroom.

"Mr. Q."

Six-Q froze in the middle of the doorway. Classmates shoved them aside so they could leave the room. Six-Q slowly turned and nodded towards the Professor. The Professor took his glasses off his forehead and rested them on his podium.

"I understand you kids like forging new genders and titles to make yourselves feel special, but try to tell your friend to not have tantrums in class if her feelings get hurt." 

Six-Q flashed a sideways okay hand underneath their chin. Professor Walker took that as a sign that Six-Q understood and waved his hand like he was waving away a stray dog. "You're dismissed."

Six-Q bowed their head then shuffled out into the crowded white tiled hall. They couldn't help but smile. That sideways okay was the sign for "asshole". Six-Q didn't like to swear, but Riley's and their roommate Rei's unfiltered mouths had rubbed off on them. Speaking of Riley, Six-Q knew they had to find the hot-headed girl or else a fight would ensue. They trudged through the slow-moving crowd then managed to stumble onto the campus grounds.

Despite it nearly being the middle of fall, the trees still held onto their bright green leaves. A peaceful atmosphere hung over the grounds as students and teachers alike walked around on the freshly cut grass. Six-Q could see two centaurs playing frisbee with each other, laughing as it spun in the air like a dancer. Harpies, Fae, Sylphs, and other winged nonhumans happily flew through the sky, laughing as a harsh, yet warm breeze blew over them and ruined one Fae girl's hair. Six-Q could see a study group taking place as well as a picnic date. They took a deep breath and let out a content sigh. This was what college was about, not transphobic old men.

It didn't take Six-Q to find Riley. She was sitting under a tree with one leg folded close to her chest and another laid straight on the grass. She had some wireless earbuds in listening to some type of loud music, so it wasn't a surprise when Six-Q didn't try to get her attention it failed. She was also hypnotized by something on her phone so it lessened Six-Q chances of gaining her attention. Finally, what got Riley to notice them was Six-Q lightly kicking her checkered slip-on shoes. At first, Riley furrowed her brows and glared up at the disturber of her peace. When she realized who had bothered her, her expression turned positive and she pulled the earbuds out.

"Hey, is class over? What did old man Walker say about me?"

"Nothing. But he didn't call one of the translators from the head office or anything so I had to sit in silence." Six-Q explained.

"That bastard!" Riley snarled. For once, Six-Q didn't feel like calming her down. In fact, they wanted to match her rage. Sadly, they had to be the reasonable one in the relationship or else Riley would've been put in jail for life already.

"But I did call him something on the way out." Six-Q continued, hoping Riley noticed their devious smile.

"What?" 

Six-Q showed her the sign and she immediately burst into high-pitched laughter.

"Please tell me this isn't a joke! Please tell me you actually did that!" Riley asked through her laughs. Six-Q proudly nodded, causing her to laugh more. It took a while, but the witch finally stopped and caught her breath.

"I think I'm a bad influence on you, Q." Riley declared.

"Yep!" Six-Q replied.

Riley chuckled, then stood up, dusting some dirt off her shorts. "Hey, you don't have any classes after psychology, right?"

Six-Q, worried about where this was going, nodded. Without warning, Riley wrapped her arm around their's and set off towards the campus's exit. 

"C'mon, let's go shopping!"

"Shopping?!" exclaimed Six-Q, being forced to spell it out on one hand due to the other being stuck in Riley's tight grip.

"Yeah! My monthly Patreon money just came in and I need some new clothes," Riley looked them up and down, "I think you need some too."

Six-Q just glared at Riley as they continued to be dragged away from campus. The guards watching the campus's gates barely batted an eye at them, sealing Six-Q's fate. They were stuck with Riley for the rest of the afternoon. They let the upper part of their body go slack and let their legs do all the hard work. 

The town wasn't small per se, there was a considerable amount of people and even a large almost urban distract twenty minutes away from the college, but the main street in town gave off the coziest feeling. The old brick buildings had seen plenty of young, dumb students and they'd probably see many more. Children raced through the groups of adults to get into the nearby candy shop all while squealing in delight. Adults either sat on benches, happily chatting about the day, or popping out of stores carrying several bags full to the brim with clothes, jewelry, and other fancy new trinkets. Six-Q was so enamored by the bustling town life they didn't notice the looks people were giving both them and Riley. But Riley certainly did, as she death glared in the direction of anyone who dared look at the pair.

"C'mon, it's just down this block," Riley said, finally loosening her grip on Six-Q.

"But I need to get home, I have homework!" Six-Q pleaded.

It was a fruitless effort since Riley just shook her head. "You only live once, Q. You can't let things like homework and responsibility drag you down all the time."

"Is that why you needed to copy off all my notes and tests?"

"Silence those hands, mutey."

Six-Q silently celebrated their victory as the two turned the corner, nearly bumping into both a streetlamp and a couple. The man glared at them only to get flustered as Riley batted her eyelashes sweetly. As the couple disappeared around the corner, Six-Q heard the man's girlfriend chide him in a shrill voice. Riley seemed to get a kick out of that as she snorted loudly.

The sun was lazily setting behind a cluster of wispy clouds. Its glowing oranges and reds were shifting into blue and purple hues. Stores were having to turn on their lights to let passerby’s know they were still open. Six-Q felt a chilly breeze pass over them. They were left to wonder how Riley managed to stay warm while wearing only a crop top that showed her middle (which proudly held a shiny belly button ring) and jean shorts with tights under them. She wasn't even wearing socks.

Note to self: ask her if it's magic or simply not giving a darn!

"We're here!" Riley announced, jolting Six-Q back to their senses.

It was some type of shop dedicated to various popular clothing brands. Nike, Adidas, Levi's, Prada, and Lululemon were just some of the few brands that dressed the mannequins and shoe racks in the front window. Six-Q didn't even get a chance to look at the name before they were dragged into the store. A bell rang as the glass metal-framed door swung open.

"Oooh, Miranda~!" Riley called out in a singsong voice. "Guess who it is!"

A brunette woman wearing a black turtleneck stepped out into the open, hidden behind a rack of pants. She squealed in delight and rushed over to hug the equally excited Riley.

"Oh my stars, Riley, I haven't seen you in, like, forever!" the girl, Miranda said, after letting Riley go from their shared bear-hug. "What's happening in the life of the coolest witch I know."

"Ah, nothing much. Got kicked out of class today and my boyfriend fucking cheated on me." Riley said. Their voice was bitter at the end. Miranda gasped in surprise.

"Really? With who?"

"Sarah."

"Sarah McLaughlin?! Isn't she-"

"One of my exes, yep."

Miranda's eye grew to the size of dinner plates. "I can't believe it. And she was just in my store yesterday! I swear, if she comes back I'm going to give her a piece of my mind."

Riley casually waved her right hand, as if the brush away the idea. "Don't. A hussy like her doesn't deserve your time. Besides, it happened over a week ago. I'm over it."

Six-Q blinked. It was only two days ago Six-Q had to walk to Riley's duplex to comfort the drunken witch, who was having a complete emotional breakdown over the breakup. They didn't question how an underage girl like her even got two bottles of tequila (probably from one of her sketchy drinking buddies), just sat there in her bathroom rubbing circles on her back and holding her hair as Riley both sobbed and vomited into the toilet. They decided that they weren't going to embarrass her by sharing such a personal experience. Miranda's eyes trailed up to Six-Q. She ogled him for a few seconds before breaking out into a grin. 

"Oh my, hello~. Are you the new boyfriend?"

Six-Q cringed. But because the idea of being romantically involved with Riley was a terrible thing, but the fact the clearly oblivious woman used the term "boyfriend". 

Can I be gendered correctly for once?

Riley instantly came to their defense. "Actually, Six-Q uses they/them pronouns and they're nonbinary. Also, not my partner. They're too much of a softy to actually deal with my way of flirting."

Six-Q decided they also wouldn't mention the first time Riley and they met it was in Psychology 101 and Riley was trying to seduce them and get their notes. How they managed to become friends after that series of awkward events still confused them to this day.

Miranda's expression from joy to panic. "Oh my Gosh, I'm so so SO sorry! Is there anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable? I'm the store owner so I can gift you some coupons or-"

Six-Q held up their hand and flashed a couple of signs at Riley.

"They said they're fine and that there is no need to worry." Riley noticed the confusion on Miranda's face. "They're mute so they communicate through ASL. They are actually the reason why I learned the language and why I continue to take psychology even though the professor is a piece of shit."

"Mute? Oh, what happen-" Miranda noticed the thread sewn through Six-Q's lips and immediately went quiet. An awkward silence filled the store until Riley spoke up.

"I actually got paid recently and wanted to get some cute new clothes. Got any recommendations?"

Miranda instantly brightened up. "Oh, yes. Here, I know a pair of jeans that would just look amazing on you!"

The store owner pulled the witch away, leaving Six-Q to explore the building on their own. It was a mix of rustic charm and contemporary with the front count and walls being made from real wood while the shelves, racks, and other exhibiting items were something akin to an IKEA display. The lights the dangled from the ceiling were rectangle, adding to the modern feel. The mannequins were posed in ways that felt almost too real for Six-Q. Instead of focusing on the lifeless figurines, Six-Q decided to browse the clearance aisle. They were light on cash so they were hoping to find something in their price range.

You'd have more money if you weren't a coward. A voice hissed in their head. Six-Q frowned but kept searching.

It wasn't their fault that they struggled to hold a job. When all the misgendering, stares, lack of translators, and just judgmental people got to them, Six-Q's automatic next move was to flee. Were they a coward? Yeah, probably. But they suffered through worse so if they were in desperate need of cash, Six-Q could probably ask their friends Rei and Trixie for a position at their job.

Would Marty even want someone like me as one of his... Dancers? Six-Q thought, shivering as he remembered the merman club owner's sharp gaze.

"Hey, Q! Find anything good?"

Six-Q found a pair of pants that were reasonably priced and held them up from Riley to see. She nodded her head, "Nice, dude."

The enby craned their neck to see what their friend had bought. It was several brightly colored shirts, hoodies, and pants, and shorts. If Six-Q could, they would've whistled in both amazement and the fact they were thoroughly impressed. 

The Patreon gig must be seriously well.

"Will that be all for today?" Miranda asked in her friendliest customer service voice.

"Yep!" Riley said. Her friend nodded with a smile.

The two paid for their own clothing then stepped outside after saying their goodbyes. The sun had sunk a little lower, but there was still enough daylight where it couldn't be considered night yet. Riley pouted at Six-Q's single bag.

"You only got one thing?"

"I have to save money and I don't have that much anyway," Six-Q said.

"Well, I know some places you can get some nice and cheap clothes!" Riley had all the enthusiasm back in her voice.

"Wait, I-"

Riley silenced them by covering their hands with her own. She started to pull them down the street with an adventurous smile.

"C'mon, Q! While the sun still shines!"

Six-Q had a bad feeling growing in their gut that this would be a long night

-----

Six-Q stumbled out of what was hopefully the last store. Although several bags were in their grasp, most of them were not theirs. They had only purchased two other sets of pants and three graphic t-shirts plus a new makeup pallet, lip gloss, and eyeliner. Riley, however, acted like the old British Empire and sought to claim everything she had touched. From lipstick to perfume to clothes from the latest clothing trend, Riley decided to snatch up everything. Six-Q was worried that her card was going to get declined at some point, but that fear never came to fruition.

The pair started to make their way down the streetlight lit street. The sun had completely set and was replaced with an ethereal half-moon and twinkling stars. Six-Q gazed up worryingly at the sky. They stomped their feet on the ground to get Riley's attention. She looked up from her phone and Six-Q could see she was editing a selfie of herself. 

"Yeah?" she said.

Six-Q tried to sign but the bags got in the way. Riley noticed and swiftly took some from them. The enby then asked. "It's late, Riley."

Riley shrugged. "It’s only 8:45. Don't tell me it's past your bedtime."

Six-Q frowned. "I need to finish some homework."

"You can do that later. Besides, aren't you hungry?"

Six-Q cocked their head. "I don't need to eat, remem-"

Riley grinned. "Great, because I'm starving! I know a cafe not too far from here! They have the best eclairs!"

Once again, the pair rushed off down the street. Six-Q's feet were beginning to hurt from all this running.

It can't possibly get anyway worse than this.

The cafe, as Riley promised, was not far at all as it was just around the corner. It was an unassuming little shop with it literally being a corner store. Riley was the first one inside leaving Six-Q to scramble behind her. The interior design wasn't something to rave home about. Common fake wood circular tables and chairs were stationed on one side of the cafe with the display case filled with all types of wonderful desserts and the cashier on the other. The cashier clearly was a young girl, probably sixteen at the most, and looked incredibly bored in her green apron and white shirt. It was the customers in front of the counter that got Six-Q concerned.

One was a brown-haired young man with brown hair and eyes who was digging through his wallet not paying attention to the people around him. He wore a dress shirt and pants along with a tie, clearly showing he was someone vaguely important. The man next to him worried Six-Q the most. It was a curly-haired ginger man whose hair basically covered his barely visible emerald green eyes. He wore a gaudy black shirt and black pants. A star with neon stripes coming off it was placed in the center of the shirt and had several multi-colored sparkles coming off it. Six-Q wanted to leave but Riley was the one to get the first words out. "Jesus fucking Christ why are you here?"

Both men turned around. The first one seemed surprised to see the blue-haired witch while the ginger one was both excited and mesmerized.

"Really? Is that the magnificent Riley and-" he screamed and pointed at Six-Q, "THE DEMON!"

Six-Q winced at the sudden noise while the well-dressed man groaned. "Tobias, please. We're in public."

"It’s Tobi and he's gonna hurt Riley!" Tobi whined, trying to put up a tough demeanor.

Six-Q wanted to snap. Can't someone gender me just this once?!

Riley was quick to snap back. "Please, don't even try that Alpha Male shit at me, Tobi. I've seen you cry for hours over that stupid robot show."

Tobi gasped loudly. "Star Pilots of Galactia is not stupid!"

"Also, the 80s called? They want their fucking rancid shit back." Riley continued.

"I'm on break from work, casually getting a donut with my cousin who just got off a shift from his lame job, and now I'm stuck between a seductress and a demon! Riley, you need to get away from him! He's dangerous!" Tobi cried, pointing at Six-Q. They could feel hot rage bubbling in their chest.

"It’s they, you waste of oxygen and witch talent!" Riley snarled, taking a step forward.

"You're a powerful and beautiful witch, my dear! Can't you feel his negativity?"

"I swear upon ALL the Gods if you compliment me or insult my friend again I'll snap your fucking neck."

"Oh yeah! Well, why don't I just summon some plants and-"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP!" a feminine voice shouted.

Six-Q, Riley, and Tobi turned to the cashier who nervously shook her head. Then they turned to the only other person in the room. The cousin looked completely stunned with his head hung low. His hand was clutched around his throat. Six-Q noticed his entire body was quivering. Tobi took a few steps forward, clearly considered. "Hey, Rowan, are you."

"Tobias, get in the car." He responded. His voice was ice cold.

"But-"

"Now!" 

Tobi stammered for a bit then rushed out of the building. Rowan pulled out a twenty and slammed it on the table. "Keep the change." He didn't even look at Six-Q or Riley as he stepped out into the night. Six-Q felt a shiver run down his spine.

"C-Can I he-help you?" the cashier nervously asked.

"Yeah... Yeah, you can." Riley finally answered.

Riley ordered her Caffe mocha and some type of cake and éclair. Six-Q just followed them out of the store without saying anything. The two walked in silence for a long time. The streets were almost completely empty except for a few stragglers who were hanging around bars and small diners. Six-Q pulled out their phone pocket to check the time. 9:01. They exhaled out of their nose then tapped Riley on the shoulder. She must have been deep in thought because she jumped at the touch.

"Sorry." Six-Q apologized.

"I-Its fine just..." she sighed. "Look, I know Rowan more than you do. He's sensitive about his voice because he's... You know... Transitioning. Just, don't mention it to people, okay?"

Six-Q frowned. "Do you think that lowly of me?"

"Of course not!" Riley countered. "I just know how people are and... Listen, my relationship with Tobi and Tobi himself fucking sucks but I don't want Rowan to get in the crossfire, okay?"

The enby college student just nodded. They didn't want to get into Riley's messy relationship history any more than they had to.

"Listen, I think it's time I head home," Six-Q said, just wanting this night to end.

"Sure, sure. Hey, I'll walk with you to-" Riley then remembered who Six-Q shared an apartment with and scowled. "Never mind, I need to get home too."

Six-Q wasn't going to argue. They just handed over Riley's shopping bags, waved goodbye, then set out on their own.

The walk home took twenty minutes but Six-Q wasn't too concerned. The neighborhood they lived in was relatively safe with only a few minor incidents. They also weren't scared about being mugged. If they learned anything from growing up around people like Tobi they all feared Six-Q's unnatural eye color. They liked to imagine a scenario where someone tried to threaten them or their friends and all they had to do to become the hero is to flash their eyes like Medusa. They let out a happy snort. They barely had any muscle mass so fantasies like that one were the only way they could be strong.

You know that's not true, kid.

Quiet, you.

Six-Q finally made it to their old brick apartment and entered. They noticed the landlord was not tending to the front lobby area. They figured the elderly woman had to be asleep so just went over to the mail slots to see if they had mail. They opened their compartment and only a letter from a company they never heard of was there. Slowly, Six-Q crept up the creaky stairs while tearing open the letter. They climbed another flight then finally made it to their apartment. The moment they stepped in, Six-Q tossed the letter. It was talking about they owned money after the recent car wreck they got in. Six-Q didn't even own a car.

The décor in the apartment would've scared most people away. There was a giant picture of a naked woman that Six-Q’s roommate took plus several punk art pieces that showed violence and people flipping each other off. The skull of a deer hung over the blood-red couch. The flat-screen TV'S stand had chokers, knives, rings, gemstones, and other oddities scattered on the top and on the shelves. The item Six-Q was most proud of was the red rug with black skulls that laid beneath the coffee table was sewn by Six-Q themselves. Six-Q passed through the living room and ignored the mostly brown and white kitchen. Although most people would've been turned away by the vulgarity and creepiness, Six-Q and their roommate embraced it. Six-Q thought it was better than most scarcely decorated modern buildings. 

Speaking of scarcely decorated, Six-Q entered their small, barely decorated bedroom. The twin-sized bed only had standard black sheets with a nearby bedside table only containing a lamp and a clock. The nearby desk in the corner only held notebooks, textbooks, a sewing machine, and a laptop; also a lamp rested on the top of the desk along with a box Six-Q knew that contained makeup. Six-Q got to work put their new clothes into their antique wardrobe and setting their backpack beside their bed. The rational part of the student knew they should start working on homework, but after all the running around and high emotions, Six-Q just wanted to nap.

They leapt onto their bed, only kicking off their shoes after they landed. They nestled under the covers and quickly fell asleep. However, it only felt like a few minutes before they heard muffled swearing and someone struggling to open the door. Six-Q knew it wasn't an intruder, just their roommate. Judging by how hard they were struggling, they must be had a bad night at the club.

I must tell them how much I wish I could have their patience. 

After stretching and cracking their neck, Six-Q slid out of bed. They winced at how cold the floor was and left the room. They got excited when they heard the door finally open. They speed-walked down the hall, ready to greet one of their closest friends on roommates. Before they could, they immediately stop dead in their tracks.

Rei de la Mora, Six-Q's roommate, was wearing nothing but a red and gold sea-themed bikini that was twice below her size and a pair of red stilettos. As they hung up her coat, Six-Q watched in horror as one of the cups holding up her rather large breasts started to slip. Before anything else could happen, Six-Q started to slam their hand against the wall. Rei jumped, causing her chest to bounce but, luckily, the bikini continued to do its job. Six-Q was sweating uncontrollably. This entire situation felt wrong.

Rei, meanwhile, simply adjust the bikini top and bottom. Then, they casually raised up a hand. "Sup. How was your day."

That sent Six-Q throwing themselves back against the wall. Their spine painfully was the body part that first made contact, leading them to fall on their hands and knees. They heard Rei shout something, but they half scrambled, half crawled their way back to their room, and locked the door. Six-Q was panting heavily. While Six-Q respected Rei's work, it still felt wrong to see her like that. Then the knocking started.

"Goddamn it, Six, not again! You've seen me in much worse!"

Six-Q backed away from the door. Rei has both the power of a werewolf and natural body strength on her side. If she wanted, she could kick that door down. 

Six-Q rushed over to their desk, ripped open a notebook, quickly wrote something down, then tore out the piece of paper. They slid it under the door and awaited Rei's response.

They heard Rei sigh. "For Christ's sake, Six, it's just a bikini. Besides, you're not a perv like all those other weirdos."

Once again, Six-Q wrote a note and slid it under the door. Once again, Rei sighed, "Fine, alright, I'll change. Happy?"

The enby student happily slid another piece of paper on the door. Six-Q listened the Rei's footsteps grow farther and farther away and sighed in relief. They remembered their homework needed to be completed. Six-Q went to work while they waited for their friend to change. It didn't take long as Rei didn't hesitate to start banging on their door.

"Come on out, purist. I'm decent."

Six-Q slipped their work back into the bag then slung it over their shoulder. They opened the door and saw Rei wearing a tight-fitting punk band t-shirt and black sweatpants.

"Better, Lord of Woman's Purity," Rei smirked.

"It's not like that," Six-Q explained. "I just feel like… We shouldn't be that open with each other yet."

"You act like we're dating and, I should remind you, I'm a lesbian." Rei ruffled Six-Q's hair. "Hey, you promised we'd watch To Catch A Killer together. And don't use homework as an excuse, you can do it while we watch."

Rei didn't drag Six-Q into the living room but had the authoritative aura to make Six-Q follow anyway. The two sat on the couch, Six-Q sitting cross-legged while answering the question of how the brain's thoughts influence feelings and how do people interpret other feelings and emotions and the social cues that follow and Rei with her feet on the coffee table. The pair were quiet for the most part, only the TV and Six-Q's light pencil scratching. It was Rei who finally spoke up.

"So, you didn't come back after school. What happened?"

Six-Q set their pencil down. Riley and Rei were the definitions of bitter exes, they needed to be careful not to mention her name. "I decided to go shopping. Got some new pants and shirts plus some new makeup. You can help me practice eyeliner like we've been talking about.".

Rei didn't stop the TV, just gave their roommate a sideways glance. "You went shopping?"

Six-Q cocked their head. "Is that a problem?"

"Six, I was the one that had to convince you to buy new clothes. Twice. You suddenly decided to go on an hours-long shopping trip by yourself is… Weird."

"Well, I finally took your words to heart and-"

"It was Riley, wasn't it?" Rei interrupted.

Six-Q flinched as if they were just slapped. Rei's voice was cold, just like Rowan's was. Oh God, they were going to have to explain what happened at the café. Six-Q started to explain but Rei raised their hand.

"No, it's fine. It's alright. I don't care," Rei said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself then talk to Six-Q. "So, anything… Big happen."

Six-Q explained to Rei what happened at the café, excluding the part about Rowan. She ground her teeth together in a snarl. "Goddamn it, Six, why don't you let me kick that stoner's ass."

"Because you'll get arrested and fired," Six-Q replied.

"Nah, Marty and Hydna would bail me out and Marty can't fire me. I'm his dancer because of these-" she flexed her muscles, "-and these." She lifted her breasts with her hands. Six-Q nearly fell off the couch in shock. Rei grabbed them just before they fell. "Will you calm down, you big baby."

The two shared a smile before Rei frowned. "Can I share something with you, Six?"

Six-Q nodded, giving Rei the okay to speak. "I know you like Riley and that she is one of your closest friends, but you saw how she treated me and you see how she treats others." Rei rested a hand on their friend's shoulder. "Just… Be careful, okay?"

Six-Q nodded once again. Rei held her gaze for a few moments then let her hand fall to their side. "Finish your homework. I don't want you failing college."

The two sat in silence, watching Mike Arntfield solve cold cases and catch the bad guy, all while Rei's words rang through Six-Q's head.

I'm always careful

Yeah, right

I wasn't talking to you and I don't want to talk to you.

Six-Q's head was silent and that worried them.

[royalbluehues]

Come Back to Me. Pt. 2

Title: Come Back to Me. Pt. 2

Author: royalbluehues

Warnings:  None.

Pairings: William Schofield x Reader

Author’s Note: It’s here, lassies. The second part. Next part should be coming soon.

Would you want to see a second part of I Promise? Let me know!

I love seeing your kind words and thoughts! They make me happy! :) A drabble with Tom is currently in the works, so keep an eye out for that.

Part 2: Dressing Down

“You girls will be aiding the nurses in making beds, handing out food, caring for the injured, sterilizing the instruments,” Matron Carter spoke, “tasks such as those will be executed professionally.”

The middle aged woman sat her clipboard down on her small desk, “If you remember the contract you signed back home, you will keep in mind that the Red Cross does not tolerate any unprofessional behavior. You came to care for the sick and the dying, not to be lollygagging.” 

She looked to Kitty, one of the English girls, who was looking down and twiddling her thumbs, “Is there something you would like to say, Miss Stanton? You’re fidgeting quite an awful lot.”

Kitty’s green eyes look up in guilt, and you bent your head forward with eyes furrowed to look at the girl. 

“Of course not Matron Carter. Not at all. Just nervous to begin is all.” Kitty spoke languidly, despite her nervous twitches.

“And you,” the Matron spoke, whipping her head to where you were standing, “I’ve been told that you were walking about unsupervised. What do you say for yourself?”

You straightened your back, eyes wide as you looked at the matron with contained panic. All eyes were on you now, and Kitty’s head was bent to look at you in the same fashion you had with her. Matron Carter’s grey eyes sized you up quizzically, waiting for your response.

“I was just going for a walk,” you told her honestly, wishing you could turn your head to snap at the other girls to stop looking at you, “To clear my head.”

“To clear your head?” The Matron Carter repeated, “Girl, you are near the front lines. A few miles north and the Germans are there ready to shoot down anything that moves in sight.”

You felt your cheeks redden deeply, “I apologize Matron Carter. It won’t happen again.”

You narrowed your eyes, too embarrassed to meet eyes with her. Kitty and Shannon had told you and Lila about how severe the Matron was.

“Had she been a man,” Kitty once told you as she pinned her hair in place, “she would have met all the requirements to be a drill sergeant.

Now you were receiving the sting of the statement. 

“That goes to all of you,” the head nurse peered over to the other girls, “I’ve a tight ship to maintain. Kitty and Lila, I’ll be requiring you to help with the kitchen today, allow the boys working there to rest a bit. The two of you,” she spoke to you and Shannon as she lifted a paper up from the clipboard, “will be fixing the beds in the medical tents and rolling bandages. See to it that you assist any of the surgeons or doctors if they need help.”

She picked up her pencil, scribbling away at the paper, and all four of you stood ramrod straight, waiting for her next instruction.

You would estimate that you waited for a solid two minutes.

She peered up at you all from her activity, “Well?” She said coldly, “Go on then! You’re wasting time!”

You were the first one to exit the tent, hands clasped as you let out a sigh of relief from leaving her proximity. 

“The kitchens!” Kitty bemoaned, “What am I to do at the kitchens?” She grumbled when she was far enough where the matron wouldn’t hear.

“I hear they have a lovely assortment of turnips at the moment,” you put in, smiling cheekily to her.

“Oh hush,” Kitty told you, jutting her bottom lip out, carefully stepping around a pile of mud that had formed from the rainfall only hours before, “You know what I can’t fathom?” She asked, not waiting for a response, “We’ve come to help doctors, not bloody cook.”

Lila frowned at her companion, “Kitty that’s not nice, what if we were the ones in the trenches? Besides,” she told her, lifting her skirts to hop over the pile, “I’m sure we’ll make a better meal then the ones the boys have been cooking up.”

Lila, who came with you on the ship to England, held a sweet heart, always looking for the positives in situations. She had come from Cincinnati, and had easily befriended you upon meeting. 

“Cheer up Kitty,” Shannon piped up from behind you, “You might catch yourself a suitor.”

Kitty whose head lolled to the side, nodded, “Well I suppose you’re right. Well, I suppose we won’t be seeing much of each other until the day becomes night. Tooda-loo.”

She offered her arm to Lila, who hooked her arm with hers, and smiled at you and Shannon. “Take care ladies.”

“To you two as well,” you responded, beginning to walk in the opposite direction, “Don’t tire yourselves out.”

“Kitty’s got a point you know,” your British companion told you, “about actually helping. Not doing menial tasks.”

“Shannon,” you said sighing, “I don’t think the nurses will ever truly accept us. They just see us as help, not actual trained nurses.”

“But we are!” She exclaimed dishearteningly, “I had to go through classes to get my certificate!”

“I suppose it isn’t good to complain about such things now. We’re here and that’s all that matters.” You replied, looking around at the bustling activity.

You heard Shannon mutter about your ‘American enthusiasm’, but you ignored her.

Upon reaching the tent, you began your work. Changing the bedding, replacing it with the new ones, fluffing pillows. You made small chat with Shannon and was introduced to the head doctor. 

Your time passed slowly, and the gust of wind did little to alleviate the cold you were feeling. By now, it was nearly midday, and you and Shannon were sitting on opposite sides of the large tent, with baskets full of bandages at both your feet.

You were too concentrated on your task, rolling each bandage and tucking it in itself, laying it neatly in a small pile beside you. You shivered as the wind crashed against you.

You failed to hear your name being said in a low murmur, but heard Shannon plainly say, “She’s over there.”

You looked up mid-roll, seeing the tall man from the night before. You smiled brightly in greeting, “William.”

He came to you with his helmet held between his hands, reminding you much of a boy being scolded for getting caught, “Hullo.”

“How’s the day faring you?” You asked as you finished rolling the bandage, and then looking up at him through your lashes.

He shifted his weight and hooked one finger to ring the sweater at his neck, enthusiastically saying, “It was fine!” He turned red, clearing his throat, “I- uh, it’s been fine, thank you.”

You stood from your chair, moving the basket to the side, “That’s always something lovely to hear,” you told him, looking down as you fixed your white apron.

He took a step back, allowing you space, “I wanted to apologize for not coming earlier.”

You shook your head, “It’s unforgivable, lance corporal. Truly unforgivable,” you jokingly quipped at him, stepping aside as you gestured towards the chair, “Sit, please.”

He moved to sit, a small smile tugging at the upper corners of his lips. “Now let’s see here,” you mumbled, moving his chin up and to the side. 

The young man watched you with alert eyes, noticing the way the small curl by your right ear bounced in the wind. He held his breath as you moved closer to inspect.

“A nasty gash.”

“Just a scratch,” he countered, “Nothing serious.”

You moved to reach for the wet rag lying in a bowl of water, ringed it, and began cleaning his neck, “I’ve been trained to take any form of injury seriously, William.” When dirt gathered on the rag, you went back to rinse it, ring it, then come back to clean once more. “You’ve any other gashes?”

He sniffed, “Well there's one on my arm, but-”

“But nothing.” You interrupted, “I need to be thorough with my work.”

“Alright then,” He said, the same small pull of his lips returning.

“Tell me more about your home,” you told him, stepping back from your work. You avoided meeting his eyes, feeling them on you as you uncapped the made Dakin’s solution. You wet the small piece of cloth at your fingertips.

“What would you like to know?” He asked you quietly, in a softly spoken manner.

You hummed, “Tell me about your picnics with your mother.”

He shifted in the chair, tilting his head up when you moved in with the antiseptic, “Well, Mum really enjoys cooking. She’d pack meat pudding for us to eat. That was dad’s favorite.”

You dabbed at the cut, watching as he did the slightest of flinches that could have gone unnoticed had you not been studying him. He suddenly smiled, a genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle around the edges.

“There was one time Mum had packed our meal the night before, and I managed to sneak into it. She enjoys baking, and she had just made a batch of biscuits. But not just any biscuits,” he told you, eyes rounding as they met yours, “she made her shortbread biscuits, and I managed to get my hands on them. She was so mad that she told me that she’d never make them for me again. Nearly threw a fit, I did. But she still made them after. That day she had another tin hidden and took it with us. When we’d go, she’d put down a sheet, one with flowers all around it. She’d take a book with her and read, and if she wasn’t in the mood to read then she’d take her knitting with her.”

“And what would you do?”

“Oh, I’d play. At that age you can find entertainment in nearly anything. I’d climb the willow tree that resides just by the river. Sometimes I’d watch the boats sail by, or see if I could see any fish.” He scratched at his chin, looking off, “Dad made me a boat out of some spare wood he had. I’d play with that, too.”

He had absentmindedly taken off his jacket by know, rolling up his shirt to show you the long scratch running up his right arm. “Is your father at home?”

He shook his head, “No. He died a few years ago. He got sick.”

You frowned, both at his words and at his cut, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Not your fault.” He let you lift his arm and tap around the wound, “What about you?”

You paused your movements, “What would you like to know?”

“Tell me about your home.”

You gently set down his arm and nodded. “When I think about home, I like to think of how my apple tree is faring. She’s a beautiful thing, just outside my bedroom window. Around spring time I’d purposefully leave my window open so when I’d wake my entire bedroom floor was covered in petals. Have you ever seen an apple tree in bloom?”

He stayed quiet, but only for a moment, “Yes. I’ve seen cherry blossoms as well.”

You dabbed at the cut with solution, “Well, at home we only have apples. I’ve never seen a cherry tree before, but I can imagine they’re similar.”

“Yes,” He replied quietly, “Quite.”

The tone of his voice made you look up, “Are you alright?”

He lifted his eyebrows, looking at the irritated area around the cut, “Yes, I’m alright.” 

You eyed him thoughtfully, noting the way his demeanor became despondent. “What else would you like to know?”

He inhaled deeply, speaking as he exhaled, “Do you have someone waiting for you back home?”

You let out a small laugh, “Other than my mother and father and brother, no. Nobody special if you mean it in that regard. And you?”

He shook his head, “No. I’ve no one either.”

You wrapped his arm in a light gauze, pinning it securely and then shimmying down his sleeve. “On that note, you’re all patched up.”

He looked as if he did not know what to do, only looking down where your fingers pulled at his jacket, “Oh.”

He then looked up at you, “Can I meet you later? When you’re alleviated from your duties?”

It was your turn to blush, “Oh, I’m afr-”

“No she cannot.” 

William watched the color drain from your face. You moved to stand ramrod straight, clasping your hands behind your back, holding the rag soaked with solution. “Matron Carter.”

“Was is it that you’re doing?” The nurse asked you, eyeing William sitting in the chair. 

“I was cleaning his wounds, ma’am.” You told her quickly.

“And what of this meeting later on?” She asked you coldly.

You shook your head cheeks deepening in color, “Oh, no, ma’am. I was just about to tell him that due to protocol-” Your words died away under her stare. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish that has been plucked from water.

The stout woman frowned in disapproval, “I do not need to be constantly reminding you girls that you cannot stray from your duties, nor can you begin affairs with the men.”

You were taken aback, eyes widening in horror, “Matron Carter you are severely mistaken-”

“It was my mistake,” The man behind you piped up, standing to stand beside you. “I did not know that the nurses were not suppose to mingle amongst us.”

“Well best keep it in mind, lance corporal. While you’re at it, you can inform the other men.” She glared up at him with a stony look. “The volunteers have enough work as it is.”

She walked away, leaving you astonished. 

“Forgive me,” William apologized once again, “I didn’t know.”

You blinked, moving to take the wrapped bandages, “Don’t be silly. It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was, though. I’ll keep my distance. Thank you for helping me.”

You said nothing, still mulling over the head nurse’s words. Just thinking about it made your throat tighten in anger.

When you finally processed his, however,  and when you had turned to face him, he was already gone.

.

.

.

Masterlist

Tags: @sexyskywalker @aathepenguin

[fletchphoenix]

According To Plan

Chapter One of the corpse bride au!!! YAY!

I’m so excited to start this and shall post it on AO3 separate to my oneshots. Hope you all enjoy! 

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

Nimble fingers maneuvered a pen across parchment paper that was strewn across a creaky wooden desk. The owner of said fingers raised the quill, dipping it generously into the ink pot beside him and continuing his ministrations as the butterfly trapped inside the glass container set under the window. The butterfly’s wings fluttered in its makeshift cage as it periodically thudded against its transparent prison, while the man disregarded this and kept drawing the specimen. Once he determined he was done, the quill was swiftly discarded as he instead moved his hands to raise the glass containing the insect. It fluttered around the room for a few seconds, circling the man before finally making its retreat out of the window. In a way, the man felt like the butterfly, confined in a prison and unable to decide where he wanted to go and what he wanted to do. However, unlike the butterfly, he didn’t have someone to set him free.

  The chime of the clock from the monotonous town outside broke the man from his thoughts and, accompanied by the ringing of a newsman outside, bought his thoughts back to the harsh reality he was facing with his betroval. “Ten minutes until Atkinson boy's wedding rehearsal!” it declared, and Hugo felt the dread settle in. Ah yes. He was still due to marry Miss Gardiner tomorrow, wasn’t he? He didn’t know how he’d forgotten. He rose to his feet from his place at the desk and made his way towards the door in a bitter silence, pushing it open and making his way down the stairs with a bitter feeling of anxiety settling in the pit of his stomach. 

  He knew the wedding was a way for his mother to make money - but that didn’t mean he had to find it fair. Donella had never neglected to tell him that marriage was merely out of necessity and never for affection, however a part of him had always prayed that he would find someone he had genuine feelings for. But, here he was, about to leave for his wedding rehearsal for a marriage to a girl he’d never even spoken to or seen in his life and he had to just smile and accept it. After all, this was the big ‘money maker’ for his mother. Besides, he’d never even spoken to another woman before so..it wasn’t as if he could find a wife himself even if he tried. Nevertheless, he strode out the door and joined his mother in that fateful carriage. 

  The ride was short, Hugo all the while staring out of the window at the cobbled streets and the different shades of grey that covered the streets. It really was a drab town they lived in wasn’t it? All that covered this tedious town was shades of grey, making it all the more depressing in winter when the ivory snow joined the landscape. It seemed that all color just..ceased to exist in this place. Either way, Hugo desperately tried to distract himself from his upcoming betrothal to the mystery woman, who honestly should be marrying something like a Lord or at least someone of a higher class than him, but who was he to question her family’s decisions at this point. 

  “You’ve certainly got a good match, Hugo. All you have to do is not mess it up or scare her away. After all, everything must go according to plan.” Donella’s voice shattered the silent atmosphere and Hugo’s thought process. His eyebrow quirked up and a confused smile settled on his face as he looked at his mother in the cramped carriage. Her grey dress matched the general vibe of the town outside and blended in with the satin seats. 

  “Shouldn’t a Gardiner be marrying a Lord or-or something like that? I haven’t even spoken to her-” he began to question, before Donella rudely interrupted him.  

  “Nonsense, we are every bit as good as the Gardiners.” she declared before looking at her son, “Well at least we have that, then. No chance you’ve scared her away already.” Donella muttered before leaning back in the seat, making it clear this conversation was over. Hugo let out a frustrated sigh as gazed out the window once again, letting himself get lost again in the depressing nature of their wretched town.

  After around ten minutes, the carriage jolted and stopped in its tracks, the footman swinging the door open so he and his mother could exit. Donella gracefully stepped down onto the pavement and Hugo stumbled out after. Stone steps clicked under the heels on his mother’s boots as they ascended them. Once they reached the top, Donella’s hand raised to knock the dark oak door, Hugo looming awkwardly behind her as she and the mystery woman’s parents exchanged formalities in the doorway. The foyer of the house was of a decent size - not as spacious as the one in his mother’s mansion. Black and white checkered tiles covered the floor in a deliberate pattern, with grey curtains to compliment them and a grand, spruce piano to the right towards the hallway the elders were heading towards. A fireplace was on the left wall, the crest of the family carved into the stone above it, a few metres away sat a table along with paintings on the wall. A large staircase that broke into a left and right pathway sat in the middle of the room, Hugo not even daring to try ascending them for fear of what he’d find, or for fear of punishment from the hosts.

  Hugo absentmindedly let himself head over to the piano, letting himself be seated on the matching spruce seat, a layer of cotton that was covered by a grey velvet shielding it. His fingers drifted across the ivory keys before trying a few, the sound echoing in the foyer filled with just him. He tested a few more, a rhythm slowly being crafted by his own two hands as he let himself fall victim to the trance of music. His fingers were evidently not only good for sketching and writing, them dancing between the notes of his melody and blocking out any sound other than what was coming from the piano. It distracted him to not even hear the click of a woman’s high heels against that tiled floor as she stood behind him. His head slowly turned, meeting the face of a rather attractive woman before he fell back from the stool, knocking it to the floor and rising to his feet. “Oh my...do forgive me-” He uttered as he stumbled over his words.

  “You play beautifully.” she stated, her chestnut hair tied back into a neat bun and a desaturated mauve dress decorating her figure. Brown eyes stared into his blue ones in wonder and joy. He had to admit, she did look rather beautiful. 

  “I do apologise, miss Gardiner. How rude of me to, well-” he cut off his own words as his eyes glanced down to the stool, still laying on the ground since he knocked it. “Excuse me.” he whispered, reaching down to put the stool upright and his back straightening as he did so. As soon as he was finished, he arched his back, using his left hand to quickly dust off the seat as the woman watched him intently.

  “Mother won't let me near the piano.” she stated, still watching Hugo as he continued his avid dusting, “Music is improper for a young lady. Too passionate, she says.” she declared, her eyes focusing on a tile before redirecting themselves back to the man standing across from her. Hugo spent some time examining her face - it being thin and sculpted almost perfectly with freckles strewn across her face that were the same shade as her hair. So she was the woman he was betrothed to, huh? Well, she wasn’t that bad at all.

   “So...where’s your chaperone, Miss Gardiner?” he questioned, folding his arms, slightly uncomfortable in the black suit that his mother had purchased him specifically for the wedding tomorrow. Black was probably his least favourite color - his favourite definitely being green. Green reminded him of spring, the only time their town had any semblance of color, with the graveyard no longer looking desolate and having some signs of light and life. 

  “Well, considering the circumstances, you should call me Odelia.” she commented with a smile, her hands moving behind her back with a wider smile than he’d seen on anyone else in his life. It was strange, really. She reminded him of spring. 

  “`Well, uh..Odelia. Tomorrow we are to be..uh-” he began, a nervousness in his voice while in the presence of the woman he was about to marry 

  “Married.” 

  “Ah, yes. Married.” he chuckled nervously and bit the inside of his cheek, a lingering silence falling between them as they ran out of things to say. Hugo’s hands rose to pick at the threads on the sleeve of his suit jacket, before lowering his hands and opting to wring his cravat with shaky hands in an attempt to calm his nerves. It succeeded, helping to stop the slight quiver in his voice. 

  “You know...ever since I was a child, I dreamed of my wedding day.” she began, seemingly rambling to herself as she took a seat on the velvet stool and let her fingers ghost across the keys of the piano in front of them. “I always hoped that it would be with someone I deeply loved and someone to spend the rest of my life with.” She let out a little giggle, her lips curling into a gentle smile. “But I guess that’s silly isn’t it?” Odelia sighed, a hint of sadness in her tone as she stared at the floor solemnly. 

  “Yes, silly.” He whispered, realising his mistake before lunging and yelping. “Wait-wait no! It's not silly at all!” He called out, knocking over a tiny, ivory vase holding a snowdrop and spilling water over the piano. Gasping, he scrambled and accompanied Odelia in trying to clear up the mess he’d created with a haste he’d never had before. “I’m so sorry, Odelia!” He profusely apologised to the woman in front of him. 

  Odelia simply laughed, a sweet and welcome sound to him that made him more and more happy each and every time he heard it. It sounded like angels singing and reminded him of the joy of the first day of spring. With soft, careful hands, Odelia held out the snowdrop and placed it in his upper pocket, nothing but a soft smile playing on her lips at the intimate moment between them. 

  “What is this impropriety!” Mrs Gardiner yelled as she turned the corner, jolting Hugo and Odelia out of their intimate moment and back into a state of awkwardness and shock. “ You shouldn’t be alone together! Look, one minute till five and you two haven’t arrived at rehearsal so hurry up! The pastor is waiting!” she yelled. Hugo and Odelia silently shrugged to each other and followed the woman around the corner to the parlour room where everyone was waiting for them. 

  The parlour room was decorated with plenty of paintings and statues, yet was still just as monotone and depressing as the rest of the house. No matter where they went, nowhere had any colour. In the centre of the room sat three rows of chairs, four in each row with a makeshift aisle separating the pairs of chairs, with their family sat on either side. A table was a metre in front of these chairs, the pastor standing behind it with a lit candle and a golden chalice on top of a white tablecloth. Hugo sucked in a deep breath and sighed.

  This was going to be interesting.

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

  “Master Atkinson, go from the beginning. Again.”

    An exasperated sigh passed through his lips as the pastor repeated the vows for what felt like the fiftieth time. Three hours. Three hours later and Hugo STILL couldn’t get his vows right. They couldn’t blame him though. He was just...incredibly nervous and didn’t know what to do at all. The candle refused to light and his brain refused to register the words he was being told to repeat.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” The pastor uttered. Hugo’s eyes met Odelia’s, who gave him a sympathetic smile for his struggles. It’s not that he didn’t want to marry Odelia, he did, but he was just nervous to finally commit his entire life to a girl he’d had exactly one conversation with, which, by the way, was incredibly awkward and one of the only conversations he’d had with a woman in his life. 

  “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” His eyes then drifted to the Gardiners, whose faces looked more angry than anything else. He bet they already thought he was a disappointment of a son-in-law, and they’d be 100% right. He wasn’t really good at anything in most people’s eyes. 

  “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness.” Then he glanced at Donella, her face being covered by an abnormally bony arm as she shook her head in disappointment. Great. He could’ve handled disappointment from his in-laws but not from his own mother. Oh well, he’d be out of her hair soon anyway, married off to Odelia and having to live out his life with her. Oh joy. 

  “With this ring, I ask you to be mine. Lets try it again, shall we?” The pastor commented, looking at Hugo and, if looks could kill, Hugo would be a corpse husband. The man honestly looked like he was two more messed up vows away from choking him on the altar. Hugo shakily nodded, feigning a smile on his face before he held the waxy, white candle in his right hand and began to try and recite his vows. 

  “With this candle-” he exclaimed, holding the wick to the flame which, to his dismay and to the frustration of everyone else in the room, didn’t light. He kept trying, repeating the statement again and again. Why the hell wasn’t it lighting? What was even going on? He bit his lip and looked up at the pastor, confused and panicked.

  “Nevermind. Go from the steps.” The exasperated and clearly annoyed pastor finally said, seeming already completely fed up with the man in front of him. Hugo pondered for a second, holding out his hand for Odelia to take, which she did graciously. God, her hands were so warm somehow. They were like a weight tethering him into the room and keeping him there. She gave his hand a little reassuring squeeze, a small smile making its way onto his face. She was an absolute oxymoron of everything around them - he could get used to this. 

  “With this hand, I will-” He took one, two, three and four steps. Straight into the table. He stumbled forwards, quickly moving his hands to steady the chalice and the candle before they fell over the cloth. Why the hell was he messing up so badly? He wasn’t this nervous earlier so how was he doing so badly at remembering a few little vows?

  “Three steps! Three! Stop! Stop! Do you not wish to be married, Mr Atkinson?” The pastor finally bellowed, something inside of his snapping and lunging across the table. A red flush of anger covered his face as he glared at Hugo with murderous intent, the younger man feeling much much smaller and more afraid than he’d ever been in his life.  

  “No, no!” he yelled out in response , his hands rising to shield his face nervously as he bit his lip gently. 

  “You do not?” Odelia butted in, a deep frown on her face as she looked into Hugo’s eyes. Shit. That was…certainly not what he meant to say. He didn’t mean to upset her at all. 

  “No that’s not what I-I meant I don’t..not want to get married. That is..I really, really want to get married.” He gulped, his attention solely on Odelia in front of him, an awkward smile on his face as he bit the inside of his cheek. 

  “Pay attention! Have you remembered to bring the ring?”

  “Yes! Yes, the ring!” Hugo searched his pockets, his fingers finally brushing against the cold metal of the circular object. Swiftly, he brought out the plain band, holding it between his thumb and index finger. He must’ve held it too hard or his hands shook too much, since as soon as he brought out the little object, it flicked out of his fingers and fell to the floor. It rolled and rolled, much to the horror of everyone else. Gasps and screams filled the room as he lunged to get the ring and pick it up. 

  “Enough! This wedding can’t happen until he is properly prepared!” the pastor exclaimed, shoving his finger against Hugo’s chest, who shuffled back against the door in fear. He sucked in a breath as the pastor stepped even closer. “Young man, learn your vows.” He declared sternly, Hugo shakily nodding before rushing out of the room and running away as fast as he could from the house to the graveyard.

  Snow crushed under his feet as he crossed over the stone bridge, sighing and shivering. “It really shouldn’t be that difficult. It’s only a few simple vows.” he murmured under his breath as he trailed along the path to the graveyard, the trees becoming more and more looming over him and the light from the moon more and more obstructed by branches. “With this candle I will...I will…” he let out a tired sigh, “I will set your mother on fire. It’s no use.” he muttered as he took a seat on a fallen tree in a clearing, a hand-like branch sticking out of the ground in the middle, underneath a colossal tree. 

  A newfound confidence swept through him out of nowhere as he rose to his feet. “With this hand, I shall lift your sorrows!” he declared as he brought the ring out of his pocket, a grin quirking his lips. “Your cup will never empty, for I shall be your wine!” his voice grew in volume as he stepped around the clearing, shaking hands with the spindly branches of the spruce trees surrounding him on every side. “ With this candle, I will light your way in the darkness! And with this ring, I ask you to be mine.” he yelled as he slipped the ring onto one of the branches of the root sticking from the ground. 

  Wind howled around him for a second and, as he looked up, crows sat on the branches of trees surrounding him. Staring at him and cawing maniacally as soon as he’d slipped the ring onto the root. The root gripped his wrist, pulling it down into the ground with a forceful tug. Crows that were once perched on the winding branches of trees now flew and cawed around the clearing. Frantically, he tried to tug his hand free from the unrelenting grasp, falling back with a skeletal arm now attached to him. Hugo shook it away and the ground in front of him began to break away, a figure rising from the dirt. First its arms, then its head, then its body. 

  The man who had arisen wore a wedding suit, similar to his, however blue. He had raven hair that fell just to his shoulders, a cyan streak in between the locks that blended in with the light blue tint on his skin. The mystery ghoul seemed part skeletal too - little bits of his flesh and body torn away by decay, his ribcage clearly showing from under the suit he wore. The ghoul raised the veil that was partially covering his head, whispering two fateful words.

  “I do.”

  Hugo scurried back in shock as the man held a hand out towards him, scrambling to his feet and sprinting away as fast as his legs would carry him. Periodically he’d glance back, the figure always far too close to him. It was as though he couldn’t lose him, no matter how far or fast he’d thought he was running. In his haste, he ran into a tree, his body wracked in pain. This pain was soon to be ignored, however, as he turned his head to see the figure still gaining on him. He frantically pushed himself away and began to run again towards the bridge. Why did it feel so far away? He caught his jacket on various branches, causing rips and tears all over the custom made jacket. Donella was sure to kill him if this man didn’t. 

  His heart thudded in his chest as his feet made contact with the stone surface of the bridge, it clicking slightly under his shoes. Hugo turned on his heel to check for the figure as a murder of crows flew over his head. The forest, the church...nowhere showed any sign of the mystery man. It must’ve been his imagination. Hopefully.

  Hugo let out a breathy chuckle, taking a few steps backwards and turning. Turning to be face to face with the man he was running from. A scream almost passed through his lips as he frantically backed away into the bridge, his chest still heaving as the undead figure stepped towards him. “You may now kiss the bride.” the ghoul whispered, his hands resting on his shoulders and leaning in as crows circled and surrounded them.

  Everything faded to black.

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Yandere! Shigaraki x Reader; All An Illusion

tw: kidnapping, messed up relationship, parental abuse, eating disorder, knifes, gayness, depression, stalking

❤️ Enjoy the series! one two

I know heroes are supposed to hate villains with a passion and don't get me wrong, I do. But, my alarm clock comes close in second. I slap that sucker with my fist, sending it to the ground and unplugging it. " I hate Mondays," I tell myself, dragging myself out of bed and putting on my white fuzzy socks. As I walk to the bathroom, I take my icy blue, almost white hair out of the ponytail that is half undone. 

Looking into the mirror, I almost am scared of myself. I look like a zombie. I put on some music and wash my face before going to the closet. My dorm room isn't huge, but it's nice. Especially since my roommate is one of the gayest, most fanboyish guy in the world. "Deku! Did you take my concealer again?" I shake the broccoli headed boy, waking him up.

"Wha- oh, ya. Sorry Y/n, it helps cover up all the bruises from training. I don't like anyone worrying about me, and with all the news reporters, I'm scared my mom will see." I think of Deku's mom. 

So nice, so sweet, and such a good cook. 

"Yea, you're lucky about that one." I sadly smile, taking it from his bedside table. "Just let me buy you your own, or get your boyfriend to buy you one. What if you wake up someday and you're tan?" I tease as he throws a pillow in my direction. "Todoroki isn't just my boyfriend Y/n, he's my soulmate. Don't be jelly." he jokes. "At least my eyes didn't look like Christmas colors until this year." We both giggle hysterically.

In our world, everyone is born with two different colored eyes. Our left color is the one of our soulmate, and the right one is our own color. Once we make eye contact with our soulmates, they return back to their original color. My eyes are red on the left, and then purple.

 I go to the opposite wall and open the windows, letting the sunrise fill our view. Even though Deku covers his face with a pillow, I can't help but watch the birds in the distance. They're free to go wherever, be with whoever. They're not stuck in a certain place, they fly everywhere and anywhere they want to.

I do some makeup and curl my hair a little bit before slipping into my uniform. "Y/n, you've been getting skinnier. Are you okay?" Deku asks, waiting for me by the door. He's already in the UA uniform and is currently eating one of the donuts his mom brought for us yesterday. "Oh ya, I've just been training so much it's hard to find time to eat. But I'm fine. See?" 

I grab a donut and take a bite, chewing it slowly and giving him a fake smile. He smiles back, relieved as I slip on my shoes and take a final look in the mirror, trying not to throw up. My eyes are purple, but today they're looking extra vibrant. Maybe it's the sunlight filling the room, or the fact that I cried myself to sleep last night. Either way, they look different. Deku and I walk down the hall as I try to find a way to get the bite of donut out of my mouth without him seeing.

I haven't eaten anything for over 48 hours, and I can't have the first thing be full of calories and sugar. Finally, we get to the classroom. When Deku walks in, I immediately spit it out and stuff the donut into the nearby trash can where nobody can see. I feel bad about wasting food, but I would feel worse if anybody knew about me not eating. I sit down in Bakugo's seat so I can talk to Deku, eventually talking to Todoroki and Mina. 

Finally, Mr. Aizawa comes into class, followed by someone I don't know, and we all sit down. "Today we are going on a trip to the USJ for some training. Go change, and come straight back." I quickly go up as Mina and Asui join by my side to walk to the girls changing area. I hate this part with a dying passion, letting everyone see my scars, bruises, and ribs. It always starts a conversation that I don't like, making people worry about me. 

"So Y/n, I've been thinking. You haven't told me about a single crush that you've had since we got here. What's up with that?" Mina looks at me with curiosity. "I just don't see the point in dating someone who's not your soulmate. It seems like a waste of time." Mina laughs at my response, taking off her uniform and changing. 

"I've noticed that too, actually. I-" Uruaka stops talking as I take off my shirt. Everyone's eyes bug out, looking at the colorful display on my body. A large gash is in the middle of my shoulder, and another as my hip. There's a new scar near my collar bone and a large bruise on my upper stomach. " Y/n... What happened?"

Ururaka steps closer to examine me, before reaching out to touch the large scar on my arm. "Uh, Sensei has been training me extra hard lately. It's fine." I quickly put on my uniform outfit and fix my hair as Mina tries to start up the other conversation. "Anyways, do you really not like anyone else? What about Kirishima, or Sero? Personally I thought you'd be cute with Asui, or Momo. But Momo already is soulmates with Jirou, and Ururaka is soulmates with Asui." 

I laugh, thinking about how all my friends have been able to find their soulmate in our class, except me. It's kind of sad honestly. Is it impossible for me to develop feelings for people? Am I that hopeless? Maybe my soulmate is gone, or has found someone else. Maybe I’ll never find them.

Ururaka chimes in, but I blank her out mostly. "Maybe Tenya, but he gives me asexual vibes. I think you'd be cute with Shinso but..." I stopped listening as we walked to the courtyard of UA, where everyone else waited. "Fashionably late is not acceptable ladies. I expect you earlier next time." Aizawa told us as they stopped talking. "And ( y/n ), take your contacts off." 

I slid the contacts out and into my contact case. We all loaded up on the bus as Lida gave all the boys a hard time about the seating chart. I sat between Mina and Asui near the window, playing footsies with Momo for a little bit before I put my music in. Just loud enough to drown everyone out, I rested my eyes.

I guess it would be good to tell you about myself. Well, you already know I have icy blue hair that turned even lighter since I've been in the sun so much. My skin is darker than my friends, but I wouldn't call myself tan. I'm Y/n Kayama, the daughter of Kora and Magazaki Kayama. Kora Kayama, my mother, is currently in rehab for her addiction to her meds. The nurses at her facility tell me all the time that she says terrible things about me. It's not a surprise to me though, she always hated me. My dad wasn't any better though, as he drunk a lot and hurt me a lot before we got the dorms system.

 That's what all the bruises were from, not training, but my dad's fist. He was a gang member, who went to prison for trying to attacking a fellow gang member, and sent my mom to rehab because she was the only one in his way of having complete custody over us. He was obsessed with completely controlling us... well, I say us, but it’s just me now.

My sister killed herself last fall when I got into UA, she knew I'd be able to take care of myself and wouldn't need her to live. She felt her only reason for living was to keep me safe, and when we got dorms, she felt she was finally free. I remember watching her jump off the large red bridge downtown, the smile on her face. She hadn't smiled like that in a while. 

When my dad showed up to the school and demanded to see me, his breath smelling like alcohol and his tattoos showing, Aizawa knew something was up. Aizawa and my father had been acquaintances when they were kids, but my dad went down the wrong path. Aizawa knew about the drinking, smoking, gangs, and his violent attitude. Aizawa instantly looked over me and my sister from the moment my mom went to rehab, knowing that my dad wasn't a good parent. 

Aizawa and eventually Present Mic gave us rides and cared for us in general. I had only seen Aizawa cry two times, once when Mic almost died in a villain attack, and the day of my sister's funeral.

Oh right, my quirk. Silly me. My quirk is theft, which means that when I look someone in the eye, I inherit their quirk for 24 hours. The best part is that I can use multiple quirks at once.  The bad part is that when I accidentally look at someone, I end up using their quirk. I once looked at Ururaka and began floating. I also looked into Mina's eyes and turned pink. We looked like sisters though so it was cool. I do have a bad memory though, so I often forget my contacts. I didn't take the entrance exam since my quirk can't work against robots without me using someone else. 

Instead, Aizawa recommended me to take the special exam. Deku idolizes All Might, but I idolize Aizawa. Aizawa has known me since I was born. I think about what Mina said, and I can admit that I've never felt love like that. Maybe it's because I was never loved as a child, or never saw a loving marriage except for Aizawa and Mic, but I've never felt for someone in that way. 

Sure, I love my friends to death and would do anything to help them, including risk my own life, but it's different. I've never felt connected with someone, even if they've ask me out or something. Lida asked me out once in middle school, and Denki perused me multiple times before he found Sero, but I never was able to say yes. Mina and I made out at spin the bottle once, but it was more fun than romantic.

" Y/n, we are here. Please wake up." I woke up to Lida playfully poking my face as everyone else giggled. Immediately Lida's quirk registered in my brain. It was okay, I had used Lida's quirk before. "O-oh sorry, I must have fallen asleep." The class laughed as Lida smiled. "I recommend that you get more sleep immediately. Deku has told me about how you lay awake watching makeup tutorials, so maybe you can go to Recovery Girl and-" 

I cut him off by pushing my finger to his face. "I'm good, thanks." I walk past him to Mina and the girls who are waiting for me. Immediately I inherited Ururaka's quirk. It was hard to control, but I had an effect on my shoes that kept me stuck to the ground until I used her quirk. As we walk up to the USJ, I see it's a large dome with different areas of natural disasters. I hope I get the building on fire or the ocean. I can run on water with Lida's quirk, and float above the fire with Ururaka's quirk. 

"Hello 1-A students, I am Thirteen. I've looked at your files here for recommendations, and right now we will be working on rescuing people from natural disasters." Thirteen sets down files with our profiles. I can’t help but be curious about what’s in mine.

" Now, I want to send you all to the biomes that will challenge you, and challenge the way you go about rescuing others. Now if I can have Shoto Todoroki, Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku Midoriya, ( y/n ) Kayama, and then Denki Kaminari to go to the mountain land. You will be dealing with an avalanche, and then getting people to the bottom safely with no equipment. Go ahead, and wait for the buzzer before you start."

I linked arms with Midoryia, registering his quirk, as we walked towards the mountain, eventually joining up with Todoroki. As I made eye contact with Todoroki, I felt a cooling sensation on my left and a heating sensation on my right. "Nervous?" Todoroki asked, grabbing onto Deku's waist romantically. " A little, but at least broken bones aren't an issue anymore. I am worried about the-", "Ugh, you guys make me sick!" Bakugo yelled out from behind me. I try not to make eye contact with Bakugo. I don't like his quirk. It makes me sweat, and it’s way too sweaty.

"You're just upset that Kiri isn't here," I smirk as his face turns pink all over. "At least I have someone who likes me." he snickers before walking over to Denki. I watch him walk off, and realize he's right. I'm unlovable, or else my parents would have liked me. I might have someone by now if I wasn't so broken. Maybe I'll never find my soulmate, or they won't like me. I finally come to my senses and realize that the buzzer hasn't sounded yet. Is everything working right? 

I look around to see that everyone else is confused too. Even the volunteers I can see on top of the mountain are looking around. Suddenly, a large boom comes from the middle of the USJ. I begin to go up the mountain towards the volunteer when I hear screaming. I turn around and see Deku, looking down at the center. I gasp, watching a large purple portal open in the middle and many people walking out. 

"Is this part of it?" Denki asks as Deku shakes his head. I register Denki’s quirk. Now is not the time! "No! That's the League of Villains, I've seen them on the News! They're not good news!" Todoroki suddenly grabs me and Deku, building an ice tower high off the ground with us on top. "We need to stay safe up here, who knows what they want."

Before I can even gasp, I look out into the center to see the entire league running towards the mountain area. "Bakubro, what do we do!?" I looked behind myself to see Denki and Bakugo on one of the mountain ledges. "I don't know, but they want something." I can hear my teeth chattering, and I can't help but feel dizzy already. Luckily, Todoroki has me and Deku in his tight, protective grip. I never thought Todoroki liked me, since me and his boyfriend spent so much time together. 

The league is now under us though, and I can picture out two familiar faces out of the group. Toga Himiko, a villain with a quirk for blood cloning, and Twice, a guy who can make copies of himself. We can take them and a bunch of villains I've never heard of. We are about to attack when I hear something that makes my legs shake. "Y/n~Senpai! We've come for you!" Toga yells up, making direct eye contact with us.

Todoroki and Deku look at me, as I can feel Bakugo and Denki staring at me from behind. "I don't know what's happening," I whisper to them, and they nod. They trust me, and can probably read the fear in my eyes. "Come up here and fight us for her you reject!" Bakugo yells down as them as Toga giggles. 

"Orrrr... you can come down here!" She yells as one of the random villains touches the ice tower. Immediately the tower begins to turn into melting sludge as we begin to fall to them. Todoroki grabs Deku and me, jumping and creating an ice path for them to walk on. The only issue is that Todoroki grabs my hair instead, and I begin to fall towards the villains.

Luckily Denki's hand is there to grab me and pull me up. "Get behind me," Bakugo commands as sparks begin to fly out of his hands. "No, I can fight for myself. I don't need y-" Bakugou and Denki physically push me behind them. "No, they have a portal quirk with someone. They get their hands on you for a split second and you're gone." Denki explains as I sigh. Boys. 

"Now stay back," Bakugo growls, scaring me a little bit. I wonder how Kirishima deals with this all the time. Bakugo and Denki step towards the front of the ledge, making me step towards the back. I sigh, still shaking from fear and nervousness. Why are all these people here for me? What do they want? How do they know my name? What did I do to deserve this? Do they want to kill me?

Looking out into the center, I can see all of my classmates are fighting villains while Aizawa and Thirteen are trying to get to us. But they can't, with a weird creature that looks like a bird but has an exposed brain and is purple. It's kicking Aizawa's ass too, which is depressing. I back against the wall and shut my eyes tight, wishing they would let me protect myself. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain in my neck, and look to see Toga, right next to me, holding a knife to my neck. I register Toga's quirk accidentally. 

"Oh, boys. Some protectors you are." Bakugo and Denki look behind them to see us, their eyes wide in horror. "Y/n! Let her go Toga!" Deku yells, trying to get to me, but Todoroki holds him back in fear. Everyone looks scared out of their minds, which they probably are. I know I am freaking out, trying to think of some way to get out of here. Some hero I am! 

"Toga, don't hurt her," Denki whispers, trying to inch closer. "Not another step lightning-boy!" Toga threatens, pushing me closer to the edge of the mountain. I look way down, seeing how deep the side of the mountain goes. That's surely a deadly drop, and who would save me? Nobody. "You won't push her off, and I know it. Not after you all did all this work, just to kill a random student? Seems pretty useless.", Bakugo begins to take a step.

"Kacchan don't!" Deku yells, right before my life flashes before my eyes. Toga pushes me off the cliff, and I plummet to the ground. I look up to see Aizawa and a few other students watching me, their faces filled with sorrow, regret, and fear. I'm going to die right here. At the hands of an amateur villain attack. How pathetic. They know I'm going to die too. 

As I hit the ground, I fall into a purple void that consumes me. I hear yelling, screaming, even blood-curdling screeches as I enter a dark room. Immediately the portal closes behind me, and I'm left inside a dark basement. I try to look around, but the moment I move, a thick cloth covers my eyes, and a towel is stuffed into my mouth. 

I can feel picked up, and thrown into a room. I hear a door slam, and then laughing. I smell something weird, and before I realize it, a gas fills the room and puts me to sleep. I've been kidnapped by the League of Villains, and now I have no idea where I am.

Comment below if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[yeeterparkersblog]

Last Days | PART 2

Pairing: 6 Underground! Four/Billy x reader

Word Count: 5.9 k

Warnings: Stealing is bad, kids; Fat shaming, oops; drinking?; bleeding? Ohno!; baby boomers.

Summary: To everyone else, he was a suave young man in a gang of thieves, someone they would rather not get tangled up with. To you, he was a cheeky bastard who wouldn’t get out of your hair and most of all, a rival thief. But one day, Billy decides to reach out to you, proposing that you work together.

Publishing Date: 22 January 2020

A/N: Right. It’s been a month. I am sorry. Point is, school started and I hate Chemistry. I didn’t expect all the love that Last Days Part 1 has gotten. Thank you so much for all the likes, reblogs and hella nice comments I’ve gotten. Thank you for being so patient. I have no idea when Part 3 will come out, but I will always try my best. You guys are the best, thank you so much, you have no idea how much my face lights up when you leave a sweet comment or you message me to tell me how much you liked the story. Anyway, here’s Part 2.

PART 1

((this is what reader wears to the gala. ALSO OSCARS BEN!!))

“Now remember the plan. Be confident.”

The BMW neared the country club, and even from the car, you could see how luxurious it was. Elegance was radiating off the pristine white walls. The topiaries were clean cut and even the grand fountain in the courtyard seemed to mock you.

“Yes I remember.” You shifted uncomfortably in the car seat, the nerves undoubtedly setting in. “We’ve gone over it a dozen times.” But it was easier said than done.

“It’s alright. The gala is an open event.” He glanced at you sideways, pulling into the main entrance. “But the snooty rich can smell peasants from miles away, so I’m going to need you to stop fidgeting.”

“Just act like you know you belong. They’ll feel too stupid to ask what you’re doing here.” He nudged his head towards the gate. “Steady, (Y/N). Security guards.”

You sat up in the seat, putting on the most snobbish face you could muster. You hear Billy quietly chuckle beside you.

“Like I said, it’s fine.” Billy whispered, his lips barely moving as he drove past the guards. He gave them a small nod, the kind that rich people would give to ‘simpletons’. The security guards didn’t give either of you a second glance and just proceeded to let the car in. As soon as you were out of their range, you resume your relaxed form almost immediately.

“Wow.” You chuckle. “Did it take you long to learn that nod?”

“Took me a while to get the amount of narcissism just right. But the whole ensemble is what ties it together.” He smiled. “Lavish clothes. Expensive car.  Trophy wife.”

“They really should get better security.” You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing. “The museums too. It’s like they want us to rob them. They’re practically begging for it.”

When you don’t hear a response from Billy, you turn to him, only to see a hint of a smile ghosting the corners of his lips. “Yes, they are.”

We were pulling up closer to the banquet hall. We could hear the slight chatter of the upper class and the hum from other luxury cars.

“One month of planning.” You take a deep inhale to attempt to soothe yourself. “Let’s see if it’s all worth it.”

“Eyes up. Stay sharp.”

As soon we reached the hall, two valet attendants rushed to our car, opening the car door for us. The attendant on my side offers his hand, and with my nose in the air, I take it and assume my role for the evening. He guides me to Billy’s side at the foot of the stairs, and almost instantly the other attendant sticks out his hand.

I mentally sigh. These people probably make more money in one evening than I do at Ritter’s in one year. Must be nice.

Meanwhile, Billy didn’t bat an eye. He gracefully took out 2 hundreds and placed them in both attendants’ hands. It was probably the last of his money, but he wasn’t fazed at all.

All to play the part, I guess. This heist better work.

The two attendants thanked him with a small smile, and the two of them strode off. One to park the BMW, one to find another rich customer.

“Right.” Billy clears his throat next to you and the two of you face the grand staircase that leads to the banquet hall. He holds up his arm.

“Ready, Charlotte Hallowell?”

You smile up at him, lacing your hand in his. “Why of course, Arthur Hargreaves.”

 ---

 “…and he left me the fortune in his will, including the company. My dear father, may he rest in peace.”

The two middle-aged women nodded solemnly, too intrigued in Billy’s sob story to notice your smile. You swirl the flute of champagne in one hand, the other still holding onto his. Billy’s thumb would occasionally swipe over yours, a reminder to play the part.

“Well I know you’ll do a brilliant job.” The brunette spoke first. “You must be devastated after your father’s passing though, Mr. Hargreaves.” Her words sounded sincere, but her face, probably from too many Botox treatments, failed to convey any emotion.

“Please, Dolores. Call me Arthur.” He smiled charmingly at the now blushing woman.

“Oh- Oh my.” You hear her let out a giggle. “Aren’t you delightful?”

An unsettling feeling suddenly made its home in your gut.

“So Arthur.” The second woman, Margaret, spoke next. “You and uh… Catherin-?”

“Charlotte.” You cut in. “It’s Charlotte.” A fake smile crept on your face. You took a steady breath to calm down.

“Fine. Charlotte.” She turned her attention back to ‘Arthur’. “So are you two dating? Married? I don’t see a ring.”

There it was again. That unsettling feeling rearing its ugly head. A visible frown made its way upon your face, and your hand instinctively gripped the champagne flute tighter. But of course the ladies didn’t notice, too fixated on what ‘Arthur’ was going to say next.

God, you really shouldn’t be letting this affect you. But the two women’s complete disregard of you was throwing you off your game. Or maybe it had something to with Billy? Nah, can’t be. You doubt rich housewives are his type.

So you kept quiet. You couldn’t trust yourself to speak sensibly if you were to open your mouth. Too much was at stake.

“Charlotte and I are married.” Billy suddenly blurted out, and you felt his hand squeeze yours tightly.

Shock was evident on you and the ladies’ faces, but you did a better job at hiding it. But this wasn’t the plan. The plan was Arthur and Charlotte were supposed to be just dating. You felt his thumb run over yours again – this time a comfort.

But no matter how taken aback the ladies were by the news, they still had more prodding to do.

“If you’re married,” Margaret interrogated first. “How come Charlotte isn’t a Hargreaves? I seem to recall her last name being something else.”

“That’s right. Her name is Hallowell.” Dolores continued. Good to see someone remembering your name. She suddenly turned to you. “Are you too proud of a woman to take your husband’s name?”

Oh wow. Okay, fuck you too.

Steam was practically exiting your nostrils. It took all of your will to hold yourself back from saying something that you’d regret. You took a sip of your champagne, all while maintaining Dolores’ piercing eye contact.

You felt Billy’s hand let go of yours, and protectively wrap around your shoulder instead.

“The Hargreaves may be a family of class, but so are the Hallowells.” Billy’s voice was controlled. “Charlotte isn’t too proud to take my name, she’s proud because she knows her worth.”

You grin to yourself. How nice of Billy to stick up for you, even if it was a cover story. But if Billy felt that this was okay… Oh well, a little wouldn’t hurt.

“See? I didn’t have to take my husband’s name to be somebody.” You gave the both of them a sickeningly sweet smile. “But you two wouldn’t know anything about that.”

The two women clasped their hands to their hearts in unison, and it would have been creepy how on beat it was if it hadn’t been so bloody hilarious! They gasped audibly, their form amusingly resembling that of Joffrey Baratheon when he had been poisoned.

You bit down on your lip to stop your grin from spreading any further. You were trying your best, but you could already feel Billy’s body shaking with silent laughter beside you.

It was only now you’d realize how close you two were. His body was pressed against yours, and his laughing had sent jolts of electricity down your spine. Your shoulder, where he still has his hand on felt warm with his touch.

“WELL I NEVER!” Margaret suddenly burst out, and you force yourself to swallow your oncoming fits of giggles. “You millennials are just so rude! How-!”

“Come. Margaret.” Dolores interrupted before she could go into a full rant. “We know when we’re not wanted.” The both of them stuck their noses in the air and shoved their way through you and Billy, separating you two.

The spot on your shoulder felt excruciatingly exposed.

“I don’t think they know when they’re not wanted.” Billy scoffed at the ladies who were making their exit hastily. He smoothed down his white suit. “Or they wouldn’t have come to the gala at all.”

You let out a hearty laugh, the first real one ever since your arrival here.

“I think they’re just intimidated, (Y/N).” His voice dropped to the lowest whisper at your name. “Their husbands would take one look at you and drop them the very next second just to get a chance with you.”

You chuckle quietly, a pink hue tinged your cheeks. “Aren’t you a charmer?”

“Of course. Why else did the women approach me?” He stood up just a little bit straighter. “Maybe they would have backed off if they knew I had you as my gorgeous wife.”

You shoved him playfully. “Piss off.”

But you didn’t fail to notice how your heart had sped up with his words.

“But I don’t think it was a complete waste of time.” You continued.

“How so?”

“Dolores strikes me as a person who’d love attention. I mean, did you see the pearl necklace around her neck?” You were received with a small smirk of his. “Would be a shame if she lost it.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

The clinging of a fork on a champagne glass brought you and Billy out of your hushed discussion. A silence went over the crowd as all heads turned towards the man.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we’re so very delighted to have you all here tonight. But you’re not here to listen to me talk, you’re here for my newest addition in the collection, of course!”

Resounding applause came from the crowd, who were now anxious to see the necklace. Many of them were tiptoeing and tilting their heads, trying to get a better view of the covered case at the front.

“Forget everything else that the committee has to offer. All the other gems that you’ve all seen in the country club’s jewelry room? That’s absolutely nothing!” The man boasted loudly, and the crowd was egging him on. Billy’s demeanor shifted to that of concentration, his body suddenly rigid. But you barely noticed, you too were caught up in the man’s boast.

“This is the most beautiful and priceless artifact I have ever set eyes on. That’s why I am honored to present to you…” He took a step back next to the case with a flourish, whipping off the black cloth in a second.

“The Ruza!!”

Oh, it was beautiful. It was glittering gold and as bright as the sun. The small gems on the necklace made for intricate patterns on the design. It was big, but not so bulky that it felt like too much. 5 million pounds. Not too shabby.

But of course, you weren’t the only one who thought so. Oohs and aahs from the crowd were taken in by the presenter with pride. He had more words to say, more facts to gloat about, but you’ve heard enough.

“Billy!” You whisper-shout at him. “The Ruza. We gotta put the plan in action now.”

He didn’t say anything back, he looked too deep in thought. His brilliant eyes darting back and forth between you and the gold necklace.

“Billy?” You waved your hands in front of his eyes. “You should get ready. I’ll go get Dolores’ pearl ne-”

“(Y/N), I don’t think we should steal the Ruza.”

His words took you by surprise, and a stunned silence was your first response.

“What!” You took a deep inhale to calm yourself down. “Billy, please don’t tell me y-”

“I’ve got a better idea.” He cut in. “Like I said before, there are always certain risks involved in this job. But my new plan will significantly decrease those risks.”

You pursed your lips in uncertainty. “Billy…”

“Trust me, please.” He scratched the back of his neck. “(Y/N).”

You bit down on your lip. “I trust you.” A small smile creased his lips. “Let me hear it.”

 ---

 “This must be worth at least 50 million.” You managed to breathe out.

The sight before you was one to behold. Twinkling and shimmering in their individual cases, more than thirty types of jewelry. Diamond necklaces, ruby rings and Swarovski crystal earrings. SO! MUCH! MORE!

“Billy, this could set us up for life!” you gasped. You were shaking with anticipation, looking around like a little kid at the toy store.

“We’re only taking one.”

Your smile dropped. “Of course we are.”

“Question is, which one.”

He walked around the jewelry room, examining each case and the treasure inside. He took his time. There wasn’t a single person in or near the room besides the two of you. Security guards were either posted at the front gates or in the banquet hall where the gala was.

“(Y/N), do you know why we’re taking one of these and not the Ruza?”

Your memory went back to when Billy stiffened up during the Ruza’s reveal.

“Forget everything else that the committee has to offer. All the other gems that you’ve all seen in the country club’s jewelry room? That’s absolutely nothing!” The presenter had said.

Billy saw the glint of recollection in your eyes. “They don’t care. They really should know better.” He did a double take at a gold bracelet, and kept on walking. “All the attention’s on the Ruza now. But I bet someday, it’s going to be replaced just like these.”

“Well, which one of these is going to get a new home?”

“Even though they don’t get a lot of attention anymore, somebody’s gonna notice if we steal an important one.” He shook his head at a large assortment of gems on main display. “We’re choosing something that people won’t miss.”

You made your way to the corner of the room, where the display lights weren’t as bright, where the display cases weren’t clean. A sapphire tiara caught your eye. You ran your finger along the glass case, leaving a clearer line.

“A tad dusty.” You observed. “Probably hasn’t had any love since its revealing.”

He strode over next to you, and observed the case. “’S nice.” He circled the case, looking around for any security measures. “Do you see anything to look out for?”

“The pedestal looks different from the newer ones.” You remarked. The displays at the front had a shiny gloss, the glass looked too thick to even cut, and clean as a whistle. Meanwhile the tiara’s pedestal was older, dusty. It looked like no one even bothered to upgrade it since its installment.

Billy took a few more seconds to deduct it.

“I think this is it.” Billy said. “2, or maybe 3 million?”

“The Ruza was 5.”

“The Ruza has 200 sets of eyes on it right now. This one doesn’t.”

You smacked your lips. “Suppose 1.5 million is better than prison.” Your mind went back to the original plan. “Do I still get to steal off Dolores?”

He sniggered at your question. “Right now I just need you to make sure no one comes in here. That, and delete the security footage.” He pointed up at the corner of the room, the red blinking light of a security camera staring back. “So no, you don’t get to steal off Dolores.” You frown in disappointment.

Heavy footsteps suddenly neared the jewelry room. A guard! Billy caught your look of distress.

“But you get to do Plan B.”

And your frown was replaced with an excited grin.

 ---

 “Hey, please!” You run up to the security guard, the click-clacking of your heels echoing in the hallway. You fan yourself, taking shaky breaths as you approach him. “You’ve got to help me!”

“Ma’am, what’s wrong?” He asked, watching you as you wiped away a tear, a trail of mascara streaking down your cheek.

“My earring. It’s missing!” You pointed at your left ear, which was without an emerald stud. “I don’t know where it’s gone. You must help me! Please, please.” You let out another sniffle and sob, adding onto the act.

“Oh uh…” He looked nervous, he didn’t know how to comfort a hysterically wailing woman, losing her mind over a missing earring. “Does anyone else know ab-”

“NO! You mustn’t tell either!” You dabbed away your nervous tears. “You mustn’t tell my husband. He’d be livid!”

“Where’s your h-”

“The banquet hall!” You spat out a little too quickly. “But I don’t dare go in there. Arthur will see its missing! And then… ” You wail loudly, your hands covering your face to muffle it. The security guard looked around uncomfortably, finally settling on awkwardly patting you on the back.

Needless to say, ‘Arthur’ or Billy wasn’t in the banquet hall. Duh. He’s getting his hand on the tiara. And the security guard had been walking too close to the jewelry room. Plan B was that you’d kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of the guard, and delete the footage. And so you had stuffed your left earring in your bra as Billy watched in amusement, and ran out the room in inconsolable tears.

“Maybe it’s in your purse?”

“Don’t be daft!” You shoved your open purse in his face. “I’ve checked!” And that was why you had to, unfortunately, stick the earring down your bra.

“Oh!” You shot up, wiping away another crocodile’s tear. “The cameras! Perhaps you could see where the earring has went!”

“I doubt the cameras can-”

You cut him off with another loud dramatic weep, and a fat tear rolled down your cheek theatrically. “Arthur will never let me hear the end of it. This is all YOUR FAULT!!! The committee will be hearing about this!”

That did it. The guard silently sighed and with a final roll of his eyes, he plastered on a fake smile. “Alright we’ll go check the footage. Please follow me.”

 ---

 Either you played ‘damsel-in-distress’ too well, or the guard was dumber than he let on. He had left you alone in the surveillance room.

The moment you two had entered the room, you cried out for a drink. And the guard, not wanting another tantrum from you, obliged immediately without giving it a second thought. That, or he wanted to get away from your whining.

Again, there was no one else in the room but you. There was a lock system at the door, where you needed an authorization card to get in. Security was probably confident that no one could enter.

You executed the plan immediately. Your fingers danced across the control panel, pulling up the current feed from the jewelry room.

Billy was looking at you, well the camera. You couldn’t help the grin pulling at your lips. He waved up at the camera, knowing that you had probably made it to the surveillance room already.

“Hey there.” You said back, fully knowing that he couldn’t hear you.

You took one last look at his smiling figure before disabling the camera and security measures in the jewelry room. And when Billy saw the red blinking light on the camera go off, he got to work.

For good measure, you deleted the footage that placed the two of you at the scene of the crime. Footage in the hallway which you and Billy had to pass to get to the jewelry room. Footage when the two of you were inspecting the displays. Footage when you ran up to the guard. And of course, footage inside the surveillance room.

You were sure to replace the missing footage with stills, as to make it look like it hasn’t been tampered with.

And... Done!

You took a breath of relief, leaning back into a chair.

“I’ve done my part, Billy. Now it’s all up to you.”

 ---

 After chastising the poor security guard for not finding your tiny earring on the cameras, you left with a huff and headed for the banquet hall. If things went off without a hitch, Billy would be right there waiting for you.

But he wasn’t. Though you were sure he wasn’t caught or anything.

No alarms had gone off. No security guards have ran to the jewelry room. No blond man had been tased and handcuffed. That was enough to reassure you. For now.

You head towards the hor d’oevres table anxiously, stuffing down a bruschetta in an attempt to calm yourself. You took a quick once-over of the large room, but there was no sign of him still.

A tap on your shoulder. You turn around rather excitedly, expecting to see Billy. Instead, you were met with the cold and calculating eyes of Dolores. Your shoulders drooped with disappointment, but you plastered on a smile nonetheless.

“Charlotte.” She smacked her thin lips. “Where’s Arthur?”

“He’s g-”

“Oh dear, has he gotten sick of you already?”

A sly smile accompanied the nasty remark. You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from throwing all of the curse words in existence at her.

“But not to worry. A pretty thing like you.” She stared you down head to toe, tutting. “But I think if you scarf down another bruschetta, I’m afraid that dress of yours won’t be able to contain anymore.”

OH! You fumed quietly, purposely taking another hor d’oevre from the tray with a flourish.

“I don’t appreciate your passive aggression, Dolor-”

“Why I’m just stating facts now, dear. No need to get upset.”

A silent stare-down ensued. Dolores, judgy and critical; you, silent and furious.

“If I may ask Dolores,” You start. “How much money does your husband’s company rake in per year?”

She suddenly threw her head back in shrill laughter, as if you had said the funniest joke she’s ever heard. “My dear, if you’re comparing that, I’m afraid you’ve already lost.”

You scoffed. “Humor me.”

She tossed her curls back with pride. “At least a billion a year.” She boasted with a conceited smile on her face. “Why do you ask?”

You mirrored her smile. “Then you’re living proof that all the money in the world can’t buy you class.”

You took a big bite of another piece of bruschetta in front of her, savoring the taste. The offended look on her face added a satisfactory zest to your bite. The red on her cheeks resembled that of the cherry tomatoes on your snack.

While Dolores struggled to form words, you noticed Billy enter the banquet hall. He was fidgeting with his suit jacket, arm placed strategically over the outside of his pocket.

He caught your eye, and nudged discreetly at his pocket, then the hallway.

Dolores suddenly grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to look back at her. “This is extremely disrespectful. You’ll regret messing with me and my name. My husband will be hearing about this.”

“I don’t even know your last name.” You dusted off the crumbs. “Is it Malfoy?”

“But I know yours, Charlotte Hallowell. And I’m asking you to leave.”

You laugh. “Gladly. Oh and, remember that name.” You brushed past her towards Billy. “The woman you chastised for being in a happy marriage.”

“Watch it, Hallowell.”

You stopped in your tracks and looked at her over your shoulder. “I’m just stating facts now, Dolores dear. No need to get upset.”

And with a final grin, you strut off to Billy, much to the fury of Dolores. You were greeted by his curious smile.

“What was all that? She looks like she’s about to explode.” He offers you his free arm.

“Just teaching someone a lesson.” You laced your hand in his. Your voice dropped to a whisper. “Did you get it?”

He nodded, fingers tapping on his pocket. There was a barely noticeable bump, but it was scattered, definitely didn’t take the form of a tiara. You questioned that.

“Had to break it into smaller parts. More discreet.”

You nodded. Makes sense, all you needed were the gems on the tiara. It didn’t matter if it was whole or not.

“But it was a lot stiffer than I thought.” He subtly turned over the hand covering his pocket. A napkin was bundled in his hand, it was stained red. He discreetly moved it to the side, revealing a gash on the inside of his palm. There were wisps of dried blood around it, hastily wiped. The gash looked red and angry.

“Dear God, Billy!” You whisper-shouted at him, suddenly stopping in your tracks to rummage through your purse. “Let me ge-”

“Not now. Not here. Keep walking.” With his voice hushed, he turned his hand over like nothing ever happened. His arm tugged on yours to keep walking.

“You’re b-”

“Later.” He insisted. “The sooner we leave the better.”

You didn’t argue with that. The two of you left the banquet hall, fortunately, without a problem. And it was at the valet, waiting for the car, where you realized the two of you didn’t plan for what happens after the heist.

Perhaps you may work together again. Or maybe you’ll take your share of the money, and part ways.

Your heart, unbeknownst to you, ached at the possibility that this might be the end. And so your grip on his forearm tightened.

 ---

 It wasn’t until after Billy had drove the car out onto the main road, that you two could let out a huge breath of relief. You immediately hunch down into a more comfortable position, kneading your back which was sore from standing up as straight as a plank the entire night.

“Wow.” You sigh. “You know I actually anticipated a lot more Mission Impossible out of this.”

“I only wish my other heists have gone this smoothly.” Billy removed his injured hand carefully from the wheel, leaving a small stain there. “Do we have any ointment or bandages in the kit?”

“Hold on.” You pulled out a small box from the back seat, looking through it. “Bandages yes. Ointment no.”

“That’ll do for now.” He sticks out his hand to you, but with his eyes still focusing on the road. “If you don’t mind…?”

“You’re going to need to disinfect it.” Your fingers wrapped gently around his wrist, guiding it into the light. “God knows how long the tiara’s been polished.”

“You said there’s no ointment.”

“There’s a convenience store not so far away. We’ll go there.”

“In these clothes?”

“We’ll be quick.”

“Fine.” He took a quick glance at you examining his palm. “But can you wrap up the cut? Bandage it or something. At least to stop it from bleeding out.”

You nodded, returning your focus to his wound.

Up close right underneath the dim light in the car, you could see how rough and calloused his hand was. The concealer on his knuckles, just slightly wearing off to reveal the tattoos underneath. Tiny scars dotted along his thick fingers, from scrambling up too rough of walls or ledges. They left small white dashes that were barely visible.

“(Y/N), if you could just stop my bleeding instead of caressing my fingers, that would be gr-”

“Eyes on the road, tosser.”

 ---

 You had just finished up bandaging his hand when he pulled into the parking lot of the convenience store. You were careful to not slam the car door shut on your silk gown. Billy watched, entertained, as you lifted up your dress to walk, like a proper princess.

“Don’t laugh.” You bunched up the bottom of the dress, kicking off some material with your heels. “You wouldn’t want to get this dress dirty if you knew how much it was.”

“I paid for it.”

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to go to a convenience store dressed like you were going to the Oscars. Two people smoking outside the door gave you and Billy some funny looks. You avoided their curious stares while continuing to struggle with you dress.

“(Y/N), this is hard to watch.”

Billy started to crouch down behind you, collecting the flowy material in his larger than yours hands. He ignored the stings in his palm and lifted it up like a cape, or like a really long bridal veil.

“Hurry on in.” He stood up. “Floor inside is definitely cleaner than tarmac.”

You blinked at him with large eyes. You quickly whip your head to the direction of the store, hiding the tinge on your cheeks that just barely showed up. Shrugging it off, you nodded your head in response.

“Right.”

You headed towards the store, walking slow enough so that Billy could keep your pace steadily. As soon as you stepped in, the lone cashier slightly widened his eyes at you and Billy’s fancy get up, but didn’t say anything else. ‘Beat It’ by Michael Jackson blasted through the speakers.

“Is the floor okay?”

His voice was right beside your ear, his hot breath fanning your cheek. His deep voice a sudden contrast with the loud music. You instinctively bit down on your lip in response.

“Yeah, you can put it down.”

He carefully let down your dress, bending down to smooth out any wrinkles that have formed. You smiled at this, heart fluttering.

“Thank you.” You suddenly whispered. “Thank you so much.”

“’S nothing. No need to be so grateful.” He laughed, brushing it off. “You look great!”

If he had just stayed one more second before leaving abruptly to get the ointment, he would’ve noticed your face fall with disappointment. You had so much more to say to him.

But you digress. There was a time and place for everything. And the doorway of a 24-hour store while a cashier looked on from behind a comic book was neither.

While he looked over the variety of medications on the shelves, you chose to browse through the refrigerated beverage section.

Deep green bottles catch your eye. Bottles of beer stored neatly in the fridge, the same one that you had served Billy months ago.

-

“Okay alright.” He pursed his lips and gave you a twenty. “I’ll buy a beer. But I want to talk to you, alright? It’s about the ring.”

You glared daggers at him, trying to see if he was just playing if you. Maybe he’s finally come to his senses and has decided to give you ring.

“Fine.” You said. “Hold on.”

You came back with a warm bottle of beer and sat down, pocketing the change. It was the least he could do for you. You shoved the bottle towards him. “Well?”

He shot you a look before he started talking. “Look I’m very sorry to have left you behind like that. I’m glad you got out fine, yeah?”

“Good, thanks.” You mumbled. It was nice, but not quite what you wanted to hear. “So I’ll be taking the ring now.”

“W-What? No?!” Billy looked almost baffled. “I already pawned it off! Where do you think the money for this disgustingly warm beer came from? And the ring is rightfully mine, by the way.”

 -

A/N: I use the word ‘ointment’ a lot, I’m sorry. I hate it too. It sounds too much like ‘moist’. I can’t, for the love of baby yoda, think of a more suitable word. Also I’m thinking the beer bottles as Heineken because it suits the mood board I made and its green like Ben’s eyessss, but this is not sponsored obviously, I just like the green. Also Billy in the store, is inspired by Ben Hardy at 7-11 after the Oscars so just imagine that :3. Alright, back to the story. yeet~

-

 A light bulb went off atop your head- an idea. You grabbed two cold bottles straight from the fridge, and trudge towards the cashier counter, where Billy was already paying for a bottle of ointment. ((im so sorry lol))

The two bottles thudded against the counter and you looked up at Billy expectantly.

“What?”

“As a small celebration!” You nudged the bottled closer. “It’s just one bottle each. I’ll even pay you back if you want me to.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s no need.” Billy remarked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. The confused cashier looked back and forth between the two of you. “You’ve had quite a bit of champagne already tonight.”

“Oh you’re no fun.” You push the bottles in front of the cashier and looked at him instead. “We’ll buy these.”

 ---

 “What are the beers for, really?” He asked, both of you getting in the car.

“Fine, an apology. For the crappy warm beer I gave you a few months back.” You admitted. “It’s an apology.”

“It’s not really if I’m paying for them.”

You shoved him playfully in his seat. “Then it’s a thanks.”

“A thanks?”

“I meant what I said inside the store, Billy. Thank you so much.” You put heavy emphasis on the ‘so’. You had on a sincere face, trying your best to express your genuine gratitude for all that he’s done for you. But you were still met with his puzzled stare.

“It’s just a dress, (Y/N)” He laughed. “I mean it’s expensive but it’s j-”

“NO! I mean…” You trailed off, taking a few seconds to think of what to say. Billy looked questioningly at you the whole time.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the nickname he’d decided to call you.

“Okay can we find somewhere we could talk? Have a drink?” You pointed at the two bottles in the cup holders. “A car isn’t going to cut it.”

His lips creased with a soft smile. “I tell you what.” He put the bottle of ointment ((sigh)) into your hands. “Fix up the cut for me, and I know exactly where we can go.”

No words were spoken on the way there. The silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Only the occasional hiss of pain from Billy or a check-in from you temporarily broke the silence while you cleaned and re-bandaged his wound.

“It’s alright.” You said quietly, finishing up the job with medical tape. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better now, thanks to you.” Billy smiled at you warmly, and you knew he meant it with every word. Your smile followed his, only bigger.

The car had stopped and Billy got out before you. You didn’t know where you were, or at least you weren’t familiar with this area. But you weren’t complaining.

It was gorgeous up here. Yes, up.

You two were on a sort of hill, overlooking the city. No buildings or other people around, not bustling with the sound of traffic and loud chatter. You and Billy were probably the only people within the mile radius. It was quiet. And peaceful.

The closest light source was from a solitary streetlight a few feet away.

Billy was sat on a nearby bench. He patted on the seat next to him, brandishing the two bottles of beer you had bought earlier. You gladly accepted, making yourself comfortable.

Even in the darkness you could see the outline of his sharp features, see how handsome he was. The distant city lights reflected in his emerald orbs, and his plump lips curved in a small smile as he handed you your bottle.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asked.

---

A/N: Yes basically thats the end of part 2. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE like, reblog or tell me what you think. IT MEANS SO MUCH! it would make my whole day. I can’t promise you when 3 is coming out, but i’m trying oml.

Tags:

 @pippin248 @takemetoneverland420 @queenlover05 @sjeunhaelover

[mashounen2003]

Here is the text of the video, translated into English. Seriously, check out this video, this guy is awesome.

"Conspiracy Theories" by Guille Aquino.

Posted on June 27, 2019.

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

Warning: if you're influenceable, you need to watch this.

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

Alright, before we start, I want us to welcome and applaud our new friends from the CIA, the FBI, NASA, the former SIDE -today, the AFI-, the KGB, Interpol, and the lazy virgins at the troll centre on Miserere Park, who are surely already watching this video because today we're gonna talk about...

Conspiracy Theories.

We all know some: the humans didn't go to the Moon, the 9/11 was a self-attack by the USA's government, Bin Laden never existed, Walt Disney is frozen, Elvis Presley is alive, the Simpsons predict the future, Marcelo Tinelli went to a famous hospital with a famous object inserted in a famous place on his body, and Dengue and Zika fever were created by Bill Gates who genetically modified mosquitoes to depopulate the Earth because it most likely was easier than making work that "Internet Explorer" bulls*** he sold us. But let's get to the news: in early 2019, YouTube modified its recommendation algorithm to avoid promoting conspiracy theories and false information. And let's stop here because I want us to become aware of the magnitude this matter took on and how this little joke of the conspiracy theories videos completely went to Hell.

Think of it this way: YouTube, the second most trafficked website in the world after Google, with over 30 million visitors per day and over 1.3 billion users -almost a third of all people connected to the Internet in the world-, where 300 hours of videos are uploaded per minute and almost 500 trillion videos are viewed per day, had to change its own recommendation system because all of us were watching too many videos denouncing that Lali Espósito is an Illuminati:

Video excerpt: [with obvious robotic voice] "Also, at the second Number Ten, she covers one of her eyes again, obviously symbolizing the All-Seeing Eye."

And I'm very sorry to tell you that, in today's world, if YouTube has a problem, we all have a problem.

Conspiracy theories are the Internet's new porn. In fact, if you filter the words "conspiracy" and "theories" by the number of views, the most viewed video has 36 million views. THIRTY-SIX! MILLION! VIEWS! That's like putting together the total populations of Belgium, Greece, Cuba and Jamaica, and then lighting a giant reefer to everyone and making them watch this video of people saying the Earth is flat:

Another video excerpt: [Channel 13 interview with Flat-Earthers, recorded in a park in Buenos Aires] "I pour water into this dish... Look, I pour water, and it stays, you see? But we pour water into the globe... and it goes down, people."

Okay, now we're gonna go over some of the most popular conspiracy theories of recent times, and we're gonna try to deconstruct the psychological profile of the average consumer of the conspiranoid world.

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

We'll start with everyone's favourite...

The Flat-Earthers.

Excerpt of the second video: "This first meeting began to be announced in the groups I followed on YouTube. (And the tattoo you have there, what is it?) This is the flat Earth, the Sun and the Moon."

The Flat-Earthers basically hold the theory that the Earth is not actually spherical, and they claim Galileo Galilei was an old smoke-seller blabbermouth who often played into the Far-Right's hands, cut his hair in an old-fashioned barbershop and used the 1610 telescope mainly to bed with chicks. And I have nothing personal against the Flat-Earthers but I find it difficult to take them seriously, mostly because much of their scientific hypothesis can be explained with this blooper.

Excerpt of another, different video: "There's an inflatable pool filled with water and with two people in it, a third person suddenly jumps into the water, and the pool deforms and overflows on the other side, as one of the two previously present people also falls over the edge."

(Images from the film "Armageddon".)

The truth is that the "flat Earth" theory has one fundamental premise, and it's the same one that supports 100% of conspiracy theories:

There's a power above us that manages everything.

Governments, lobbies and other de facto powers are capable of lying on a massive scale, just as intelligence services, the New World Order and FlyBondi hostesses do.

Excerpt of the second video: "(And you can't see the curvature of the Earth from the plane.) Uh... I travelled by plane to Bariloche, and no, I didn't see it. There's some aircraft glass with a small magnification or something that changes your perspective, due to the thickness of the window, and because aircraft glass also has something."

Alright, stop, let's not turn this into "Point at the crazy assholes and laugh" either, right? Well, yes, a little- But we go beyond that! We're better than that!

Why do so many people choose to believe we're puppets of an evil system? One might say that, in the absence of a sense of real control over our own lives and in the face of the desolation of living in a seemingly random, chaotic world, believing there's an external force exerting control is, to some extent, comforting. Yes, phone the Vatican.

And according to a certain old white upper-middle-class snob who teaches at Harvard University, conspiracy theorists share several or at least one of the following features: they're paranoid, radical, extremist in their opinions; they aspire to a feeling of superiority, and basically, they feel special for possessing information that exceeds the common citizen. Yeah, it's like the row for an indie film festival.

Umberto Eco even said:

"The control syndrome invades us. When someone claims to have a secret, their strength is not in hiding something but in making people think there's even a secret in the first place."

And I didn't understand a f*** because I've never read a book in my life, but it sounds ultra-mega-hyper cool. I dare you to deny it!

So who would be the most likely to believe in these kinds of theories? People who had bad experiences in life, people in search of an answer that would rescue them from a deep existential crisis, and the most important: people in search of a place of belonging.

Excerpt of the second video: "Well, no, this opened a door for me to start thinking more, to question things, about a supposed alien invasion."

Wait, stop right there. Excuse me, but if I'm an alien and I have the power to cross the universe in a spaceship, with my own army and the ability to colonize a celestial body, I don't even waste my time invading a paper-thin planet. Give me a round planet or give me death!

And that's when the contradiction comes into play. Because if you believe in one conspiracy theory, you immediately start to believe in all of them. It's like the weed. Even the refutation of a plot fits within the plot itself: for example, if you believe Lady Diana was killed by the British Crown, you're also prone to believe Lady Diana is actually still alive.

(Woah, Mind Blown... She was totally killed anyway, sorry.)

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

Good, let's move on to the next one:

The Anti-Vaccination movement.

Okay, here we come to a key point, since clearly there are the "harmless" conspiracy theories and the... rather dangerous ones. We've all heard someone say vaccines may cause autism in kids. Now, I'm clearly a specialist in absolutely nothing, and I ain't gonna explain why you guys have to vaccinate your children, so I better recommend to you the websites of any Ministry of Health or Wikipedia, so that you later visit them and find out how very important it is to inject legal drugs to your sweet little angels. And it's not to detract from any position or to err on the side of bigotry, but if you're an anti-vax and your baby coughs next to me, I swear I'll kick their head off.

(Tack! That bag of germs...)

And after all, that's why we invented Democracy!

(Ha, of course not, but...)

In fact, I dunno who gives a f*** about this but maybe someone will find it useful: I follow a pretty simple method when it comes to ideologically locating myself regarding any issue. And this is:

Always do the opposite of whatever Gisela Barreto says.

Gisela Barreto: [speaks with a flag in the background] "Vaccines show up, and they show them to us as something that heals us. Actually, they're part of our death."

(Seriously, she came this close to being in the Avengers.)

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

Okay, and now let's move on to one that touches us all closely (at least here, in my country):

Hitler in Argentina.

It's the conspiracy theory ensuring that, after losing World War II, the Nazi leader, the most disgusting dictator and genocide in Human History, came to live incognito in our country. And I ask myself: what the heck did we need to shelter Hitler for? The birth of Alejandro Biondini, who's pretty much our local version of Nazism, was imminent:

Interview with Biondini in 1991 by Mariano Grondona in his program "Key Time":

Grondona: "Would you condemn Adolf Hitler?"

Biondini: "No, we vindicate Adolf Hitler."

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

Okay, question: is it possible to keep a secret on such a large scale for so many years? Well, the Math says no. Seriously! I've read that a physicist at the Oxford University (Where else?) took the "humans didn't go to the Moon" theory, and then this guy created a mathematical calculation based on the number of conspirators involved, the time elapsed since the conspiracy, and the inherent possibility that a plot would fail.

For example, in the case of Apollo 11, 411 thousand NASA employees were involved, and according to the variables this physicist analyzed, the lie should have been known in less than four years; half a century passed, and no employee denied the mission. What does this tell us? Well... they were threatened and killed off, of course! It's obvious! [imitating Mirtha Legrand] Stanley Kubrick was not in the coffin! Nobody saw him. Nobody saw him!

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

Gimme more!

Famous people who are actually dead.

For example, Paul McCartney. On the cover of the album "Abbey Road", he's barefoot; a clear subliminal message that the real one died and was replaced with a stand-in. (Why?!) It sounds silly, but the rumour got so big that McCartney himself had to go out and publicly deny it... Although come to think of it, he also came out to congratulate the butchers who named their butcher shop "Paul Mac Carne" ["Paul McMeat"], so maybe he's truly a stand-in and, to top it off, looks like a raisin.

Excerpt of another video: "Well, thinking of different names, someone said "Paul Mac Carne". And well, he, being a vegetarian, says the idea was very good, started laughing and sent us a greeting."

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

I love this one:

The Reptilians.

It's basically the theory that there's a race of amphibian aliens [Wait for a second: aren't they called "reptilians"?] living among us for centuries and hiding their reptilian features behind human faces.

(Oh, you were telling me they're not actually aliens because they were born here?)

Excerpt of the 1996 movie "Mars Attacks!".

And who discovered this? David Icke! Or "Ique". An unsuccessful former soccer player and sportscaster. (How can you be unsuccessful as a soccer sportscaster?! All you need is a suit!) It's like believing in a religion where your Pope is Diego Latorre.

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

Now, I know what you're thinking: after all, how dangerous can all this get? I mean, no conspiracy theory has someone popular to represent it, no spokesperson of ridiculous and implausible plots has reached a truly important position in today's world.

Bah... There's actually only one.

The President of the United States of America.

That's right! Donald Trump, once the leader of the most powerful country in the world, had come to power mostly by throwing out fake news and conspiracy theories. And here are some:

Barack Obama is an immigrant.

Trump: "And I just say: why doesn't he show his birth certificate?"

Global warming is a myth.

Trump: "Obama is saying all of this has to do with global warming and I say all that is a hoax..."

Gisela Barreto was right.

Trump: "At two and a half years old, the baby, the beautiful baby, went to get the vaccine. Now he's autistic."

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

Okay, then... Conspiracy theories. For what? Well, in the case of Trump: influence on public opinion and accumulation of power. In the case of people who upload videos to YouTube... What do you think? A profitable, monetizable business! In fact, there's the conspiracy theory that we're actually making this video about conspiracy theories in order to have lots of views and earn buttloads of cash. (We'd never do that!)

And finally, a much deeper, inherent aspect of the human condition:

The need to believe in something.

The world is divided into two types of people: some think everything happens for a reason, everything is a sign, and perhaps there's also a magical entity organizing things for us; the other half of the people think we live in a desolate world without meaning or messages, there are only atoms randomly colliding with each other, and the Universe gives no f***s about us. Which of these two groups seems happier to you? Which one do you belong to? Which one would you like to belong to? I choose to join the conspiranoids! And listen to this, I know exactly what's going on:

The New World Order organized the Lollapalooza at the request of the Illuminati, who wanted to marketingly manage Lali Espósito, who actually wears a mask and underneath is "La Mona" Giménez, who's not actually a monkey but a reptile and has drank all the wine to get immunized against the vaccines at the request of Gisela Barreto, who was born in Corrientes just like Barack Obama, who claimed to have killed Bin Laden, who's actually alive and was driving the car that crashed that night and carried Chano Charpentier, who taught driving to Lady Diana, who was actually Mexican and was assassinated by Donald Trump, who was matched on Tinder with Hitler, who lives in a nursing home in Recoleta and has glaucoma, so he's hitting the reefers with Biondini, who is actually a hippie and a fan of León Gieco, invented global warming and, when being in a bad mood, takes a bus and goes to dinner at "Paul Mac Carne", where they invented the extra-thin Provoleta cheese, which coincidentally has the same shape as the Earth, which is actually flat!

*sigh* Knowledge is power. Quiero creer.

Soundtrack: State Anthem of the Soviet Union.

[flutistbyday-1]

John Deere Green Chapter Eight: (500 Miles)

⚠️⚠️This story and its contents contain material not suited for sensitive viewers. This story is not meant for anyone under the age of 18. If you are reading this, you are agreeing you are over 18. This warning serves as a blanket trigger and content warning. Cussing, rape, abuse, miscarriage, adultery, death, and other dark subjects will be mentioned. This is your FINAL WARNING.⚠️⚠️

Word Count: 2454

Story master list is HERE.

Want to find more of my works? Use the tag #flutistbydaywrites on my page to find ALL of my writings.

Want to find more of THIS story? Use the tag #flutistbyday john deere green on my page to find the whole story, updates, and everything else.

Want to add yourself to my tag list? Go HERE.

Lots of love,

RED.

The next day, Liam woke at 0600 sharp, half an hour before his alarm was set to ring. He bounced out of bed and dressed quickly. He chose slacks and a black button-up, knowing that he would be photographed.

Leo had given Liam the number of the photographer and videographer that he had used for his proposal. Leo joked and said that Liam was stealing all of his ideas, but Liam told him about the water tower. Leo joked about how Liam shouldn’t show up his older brother.

Liam had purchased well over 100 roses, as well. He, his family, and friends had painstakingly taken every petal off the roses to lay on the path— he didn’t want fake petals for Riley.

He wanted to have candles on the sides of a path to a pond where he and Riley could see the water tower clearly. He would have big lanterns with the words, “Will you marry me” written on the side, highlighted from behind with lights at the head of the path. There was a pond at the end of this path; two willows gracefully framed it. There would be lanterns hanging from the branches and Liam would get on one knee there.

Drake called Liam a show-off, but Liam shrugged and said, “only for the best.”

Twenty minutes. Hana was coming with Riley in twenty minutes. He was going to be engaged by the end of the night. Holy shit!!!

Liam had invited everyone from his and his father’s social circle for the engagement party. There were going to be close to three hundred people at this party— the entire county was anxious to see Leo and Liam celebrate their upcoming nuptials. Their weddings would be the talk of the country, as well. The Rhys’ were a prominent family not only in the south but the entire US.

The upper class of the farmers would all be in attendance— The Beaumonts from Ramsford, the Nervarkis from Lythikos, the Vancouver’s from Domvallier, the Amaranths from Krona, the Ebrims from Portavira, and the Therons from Castelsareillan. Their prominent citizens from the towns would also be in attendance.

Liam paced on the front lawn. People were already arriving, the band was already playing, and Riley would be here soon!

It was a gorgeous summer evening. It wasn’t too hot, thankfully. There was a light breeze that floated across the Rhys grounds, carrying the smell of the food and sounds of easy conversation.

Liam was going to wait until sunset before whisking Riley away to the pond. That way, the candles could illuminate the path. He hoped to plan it just right so that the lanterns would shine brightly, too.

Hana was impatiently tapping her foot in the foyer, waiting for Riley. Riley had changed her dress six times and puked twice.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t come out here this instant!” Hana cried.

She heard Riley stumbling around in her room, the sound of Riley slamming her bedroom door, then the sound of heels clicking on the tile.

“Jesus! I’m coming!” Riley yelled back.

Riley sported a floor-length, black dress that was very Breakfast at Tiffany’s. It was a mermaid-style gown, no sleeves, high neckline, and a slit up the side. She wore a pearl necklace and dangly silver earrings. Her hair was in an elegant updo.

Hana gasped. “Riley! You look beautiful.”

Riley blushed. “Thanks. I know Liam is going to propose tonight, and I want to look the part.”

Hana laughed lightly. “You sure do look the part. Come on. Let’s go!”

Hana wore a tea-length red dress, strappy sandals, and her hair was half up, ringlets curling around her face.

She almost bounced in her seat the entire ride to Liam’s house.

They pulled up the drive and were greeted by a valet stand at the mouth of the driveway.

Liam was at the stairs, waiting for Riley. He was a gentleman and opened Hana’s door first. Riley knew to stay until Liam came to her.

Liam swept open Hana’s door and offered her a hand. She took it and gracefully exited. Liam took her hand to his lips after bowing slightly. “It’s so good to see you, Hana.” His smile was genuine.

Hana winked. “It’s good to see you, too, Liam.” She proceeded to give a valet the keys and headed inside as Liam made his way over to the passenger side.

This is it! He straightened his posture and opened Riley’s door. She offered him her hand and exited the car. Unlike Hana, it was not graceful. Her foot caught on the hem of her dress, and she stumbled ever so slightly. Liam wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Oops,” Riley giggled as she looked up at Liam.

“If you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask,” Liam teased.

Riley squeezed her arm around Liam. “Good to know. How about a kiss?”

Liam leaned down and kissed Riley chastely, much to her disappointment. When they pulled apart, Liam held Riley at arm’s length to look at her.

“I love the dress, Riley. It’s a flattering shape,” he commented as they began walking toward the backyard.

“Thank you,” Riley murmured. Her heart was pounding in her chest. When is he going to propose? I won’t be able to eat until he does! “Audrey Hepburn is my favorite actress and Breakfast at Tiffany’s is an amazing movie.”

“I agree,” Liam said as they approached a server with a tray full of champagne flutes.

Riley took in the sight before her. Liam had gone all out, and she knew it was for her. There were several white tents, all with three round tables underneath. The tables sported white, lace tablecloths. Each chair had a pink slip. There were vases in the middle filled with pink roses.

As Liam plucked two flutes from the tray, Riley approached an empty tent. There were nameplates, but she couldn’t make out names. Before she could proceed any further, Liam laced his arm with hers and pulled her away.

No need to spoil the last surprise of the evening, Liam thought. Amanda’s flight should be touching down any moment and she should be here just after sunset. Just in time to celebrate her daughter’s engagement!

Liam tugged Riley in the direction of people. “Do we have to?” She whined.

Liam laughed. “Yes, darling. If you’re going to be. Rhys, you must be good at politics.”

“How is talking to people politics?” Riley was still whiny.

Liam turned to Riley and kissed her on the cheek. “You must talk to people and figure out what they want from the way they look at you. For instance,” Liam subtly pointed at a woman next to a man, “That woman, Kiara, is trying to get a trade deal from Bertrand. Do you see how she leaned forward? She’s not interested, but she knows that if she butters him up just right, he’ll crack.”

Riley nodded, even though she wasn’t quite sure.

Liam chuckled. “It’s okay, love. You have an entire lifetime to figure it out. Ah, here we are,” he said as they approached a redhead. He leaned over and whispered, “Just remember, her bark is worse than her bite.”

The redhead looked up. “Liam! How good it is to see you!” Her eyes shifted to Riley. “And you must be the woman who stole his heart?”

Her tone was sniveling and it made Riley bristle. Riley smiled politely and stuck out her hand for Olivia to shake.

Olivia grasped it, hard, and pulled Riley in for a hug.

“If you break his heart, I’ll break your neck,” Olivia hissed.

Riley wrapped her arms around Olivia and squeezed a little too hard. “From what I heard, you’ve already broken his heart. Maybe I should break your neck?”

Riley pulled back and was rewarded with a stunned look on Olivia's face. Riley leaned in and whispered one last thing: “I’m from Brooklyn, Livvy. You’ll have to be scarier than that.”

She smiled brightly as Liam looked between the two of them. Riley shrugged and whisked off to find Hana.

“What was all that about, Olivia?” Liam demanded.

Olivia shook her head. “She’s not afraid of me, so I’ll give her that.” She smiled sadly at Liam. “She’s a great woman, Liam. I can already tell.”

Olivia turned and walked away.

Liam didn’t have time to ponder what was said because the sun was starting to dip in the sky.

His eyes wandered until they found Riley next to Hana, Maxwell, Bertrand, and Kiara.

Riley stormed up to Hana and finished her drink in one swig.

“Uh, what’s up, Ri?” Hana asked as her eyebrows shot up.

“Olivia’s a bitch.”

The lady that was talking to Bertrand laughed. “You could say that.” She gasped. “Oh, no! Where are my manners?” She smiled at Riley. “I’m Kiara Theron. I’m from Castelliarian.”

Kiara approached Riley to shake her hand.

“This is Bertrand and Maxwell Beaumont from Ramsford,” Kiara pointed at the brothers. Bertrand, too, stood forward to shake Riley’s hand but Maxwell hugged Riley.

Maxwell smiled. “I know Riley! We met at her job!”

Riley returned the hug. She liked Maxwell.

“So, Riley, what brings you to the south?” Bertrand asked.

“Just needed a new start, I guess,” Riley laughed. “Happened to find Liam in the process.”

The group chuckled.

“I think Liam found you, Riley,” Bertrand offered. “I’ve known him since the day he was born and I’ve never seen him like this.”

Riley looked Bertrand in the eye. She could tell he was being honest.

Just then, Liam approached. He greeted everyone before turning to Riley.

“I was wondering if I could steal a moment of your time?” Liam asked as he offered Riley his arm.

Riley smiled brightly as she set down her empty champagne flute. “You can’t steal what is freely given, Liam.”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Liam said to the group.

The couple walked in silence for a few minutes before Riley spoke.

“Where are we going?”

Liam smiled to himself. “You’ll see.”

“Brat.”

The only sound was of their feet on the ground.

They approached a path and Liam stopped, turned to Riley, and took her hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

Riley raised her eyebrows.

Liam held up a blindfold. “Put this on.”

Riley’s heart began pounding again. “You aren’t going to kill me, are you?” She squealed.

“What? No! Why would I—”

Liam could see the terror in her eyes. “Okay! it’s okay, Riley!” He wrapped her in his arms and waited for her to calm. “No blindfold. But you have to promise to keep your eyes shut.”

“Okay.”

Riley dutifully placed her hands over her eyes and Liam guided her down the path.

The candles were lit, the petals were scattered, and the lanterns were in place.

The sun had dipped just low enough to make the candles shine, but it was still high enough to see the water tower.

Liam guided Riley to the clearing. “Stay here and don’t open your eyes!”

“Okay.”

Liam pulled out his phone and confirmed the photographer and videographer were in place. He then lit the candles in the lanterns.

He was nervous. His heart was pounding. His hands were sweating— Ew! What? He thought as he wiped his hands on his pants. Come on, Liam. Get your act together.

He turned Riley so she faced the water tower.

“Riley, I’m going to be cheesy for a minute.”

Riley giggled. “Okay, then.”

Liam placed his hands on top of hers. “There’s an old song, “John Deere Green”, by Joe Diffie. It talks about two kids who fell in love at first sight.”

Riley was silent.

“Open your eyes,” Liam whispered as he took his hands from hers.

Riley’s mouth dropped open as she saw the water tower. “Liam, it’s—” she couldn’t find the words.

“Still not enough?” Liam offered.

Riley shook her head. “I love it. Thank you.” She stood on her toes to kiss Liam.

This time, it was not a chaste kiss. He held one arm behind her back and one hand was on her head. He kissed her deeply and passionately.

Riley pulled back, breathless. She smiled at him.

“While that song reminds me of us, and helped inspire tonight, that isn’t our song,” Liam said with a smile.

“Oh, and what is our song?”

“500 Miles”,” Liam stated. “I would walk 500 miles And I would walk 500 more just to be the man who falls down at your door,” Liam sang quietly.

A tear streaked down Riley’s cheek.

“There’s more, Riley,” Liam whispered as he took Riley’s hand. “I loved you from the moment I saw you at the store.”

Riley blushed. “I’m still sorry about the soda.”

“Don’t be, love,” Liam murmured. “I knew that you were supposed to be in my life that day. As the fates would have it, you were my waitress on the night that Leo and I decided to do what was best for our family.

“Riley, Leo and I had decided that we would marry whoever was the best for our family. We would marry the person who could help our farm. Madeleine was born for this life— she could be a queen in another life. And you, Riley? You surprised me when you helped me with that horse.

“You have surprised me at every turn, Riley. First, you agree to go out on a date, and then, you help a man you barely know foal a horse. You agree to a second date. And then, when I told you how soon I had to be married, you took it in stride.”

Liam counted the reasons on his fingers.

“I can only hope to be half the man you deserve, Riley.”

He placed Riley’s hands back over her eyes and moved them so that the photographer could see the lanterns behind them before he got down on one knee. “Keep your hands over your eyes,” Liam whispered.

Riley nodded.

Liam got down on one knee, ring in hand, and began singing again:

“When I wake up, well I know I'm gonna be.

I'm gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.

When I go out, yeah I know I'm gonna be

I'm gonna be the man who goes along with you.”

More tears fell from Riley’s eyes.

“Open your eyes, Riley.”

Riley’s eyes Snapped open and she saw Liam before her. Happy tears streamed freely.

“Riley, I promise you that I will love you with everything I have for the rest of my life. If you let me.”

Riley held her breath.

“Riley Alexandra Brooks, will you marry me?”

Perma

@glaimtruelovealways

@drakewalker04

@kimmiedoo5

@imthequeenofcordonia

@texaskitten30

@dcbbw

@cordonia-gothqueen

@custaroonie

@shz256

@hopefulmoonobject

@bebepac

@ac27dj

@we-lazystudent

@mom2000aggie

@princessleac1

@glkitty99

John Deere Green

@my0123456789universe​

@maxwellisangry​

@princessleac1​

@queenwalton​

@d0nuts-c0ff33​

@marietrinmimi​

@camersworld​

@thedoublemajor-blog​

@drakewalker04​

@bloodboundchoices​

@axwalker​

@gardeningourmet​

@euvickmarketing​

@the-food-hole

[nazariolahela]

Something Domestic: Chapter 3

A/N: Hey y'all! This is a new TRR AU I’ve been working on. This story is told in first-person narrative, from Riley’s (MC) POV. There will likely be smidges of canon in this, but not too much. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow​ @aworldoffandoms​ @dcbbw​ @ladyangel70​ @texaskitten30​ @sunandlemons​ @jlynn12273​ @indiacater​ @jared2612​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @drakesensworld​ @badchoicesposts​

Synopsis: When Riley Brooks takes a new job as a nanny for the affluent Rhys family in New York’s Upper East Side, she assumes she’s just going to care for the children of the couple who hired her. But instead of just school pick-ups and afternoon snacks, she also finds herself spending time with Liam, the handsome divorced dad. Can Riley control her feelings for Liam while still performing the job she was hired for?

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Riley and Hana discuss the new changes in their lives.

As the cab pulls up outside of Nomade, I spot Hana leaning up against the side of the building. She’s dressed in black leggings and a denim jacket over a purple A-Line tunic. Her brown hair is twisted in a side braid that rests on her left shoulder. Tendrils fall across her face as she taps on her phone screen. Looking at the door to the restaurant, I notice there’s no line. That’s good for a Friday afternoon, considering people line up around the block to eat here.

Hana and I prefer the lunch menu because it’s cheaper and less crowded. The one time we came here for dinner, we had to wait two and a half hours for a table, and our tab was almost $300. I tip the driver and exit the cab, bounding across the sidewalk to my roommate and best friend. She giggles as she sees me and scoops me into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Hey, girl! You’ll never guess who just emailed me!”

“Who?” I ask. Her parents Xinghai and Lorelai are well-known in the New York social scene, so it could literally be anyone.

“I’ll tell you when we get inside,” she says and links her arm through mine as we make our way into the restaurant. Typical Hana. Always keeping people in suspense. When we reach the host station, her phone buzzes. She quickly pulls it out of her purse and glances at it, rolls her eyes, then shoves it back in her purse.

“What was that all about?” I eye her.

She sighs. “Oh, just some weirdo my parents are trying to set me up with. Neville Vancoeur or something,” she waves her hand dismissively. “My mother gave me her famous ‘When are you going to settle down, Hana? You’re not getting any younger and I want grandchildren,’ spiel last week, so now they’re aggressively playing matchmaker.”

Hana and I met freshman year at NYU Steinhardt. With both of us being education majors, we ended up having a lot of classes together and spent way too many late nights cramming during our study sessions in the library. After graduation, we both realized rent in this city is impossible to afford if you’re not a Rockefeller, so we rented an apartment together and have been roomies ever since. Hana got a job student-teaching music at Stormholt Middle School, and she also gives piano lessons one Saturday a month to a rich family in the city.

Her parents are something else. I’ve only met them once, but they make me glad I don’t have much of a relationship with mine. They feel she’s better suited to be a wife and a mother than an educator. It makes me angry for her because she’s so much more than that. She doesn’t need to marry some stuffy guy who probably skated his way through business school on daddy’s money and pop out his crotch goblins to do something meaningful with her life. She’s also mentioned to me many times that she’s into girls, so all this effort to set her up with some preppy trust-fund douche from East Hampton is a waste. Jokes on you Mom and Dad Lee.

I giggle as the hostess arrives from seating another customer. “Good afternoon, ladies. Table for two?”

We answer and she grabs two menus before motioning for us to follow her. When we arrive at our table, she informs us our server will be with us shortly and walks away. 

“Okay, so tell me who emailed you,” I say to her as I unroll my napkin and place it in my lap. She looks up at me, her eyes beaming. 

“Do you remember that benefit dinner we went to a few months ago? You know, the one for New York educators, where we drank our weight in Lemon Drop martinis?”

I smirk recalling that evening. The bits and pieces I remember, Hana lost one of her shoes and spent the better part of the evening showing everyone on the dancefloor the “proper way” to perform a pirouette.

“Well, I do remember you taking over the dance floor and me going home with that cute bartender. What was his name again? Daniel?”

“Oh my god!” she replies, laughing and slapping my forearm. “I can’t believe you don’t remember his name!”

We giggle as our server approaches our table to take our drink orders. I order a glass of white wine and Hana orders a Sangria. When the server leaves, we resume our conversation.

“So anyway,” she continues, “that night, I was talking to one of the ladies who works in the music department at Valtoria High School, and apparently there were rumors their music teacher was planning to retire. So, after we exchanged information, she passed it along to the school board, and they just emailed me asking me if I was interested in a job!”

My eyebrows shoot up to my forehead. “And?”

“And...I think I’m going to take it!”

I jump up from my seat and move around the table to wrap her in a hug. “Oh my God, Hana! That’s amazing!”  She laughs as I give her a congratulatory squeeze. Hana has been trying to get a position with Valtoria High since we graduated. It has one of the top music programs in the city, and the waitlist is insanely long. Most of the teachers there have tenure, so not many positions open up unless someone quits, retires, or dies. Hana securing a position on the teaching staff will not only get her parents off her back but also open up so many doors for her. Her dream is to eventually start her own music school where she can teach music to kids of all social and economic statuses. 

We return to our seats as our drinks arrive and the waitress takes our lunch order. After she leaves, Hana turns to me. “So, enough about me. Tell me about the new nanny job.”

I smile. “The interview went really well. I met the family I’ll be working for. They seem really nice and I’m excited to get the opportunity to work with them. My first day with them is Monday. The pay is pretty great, plus, the children seem very well-behaved. Nothing like the last family I worked for. The mother comes off a bit cold, but she seems pretty easy to work for. At least I don’t have to worry about her micromanaging everything I do.”

“Uh-huh. And what about the father?” 

I whip out my phone and google “Liam Rhys” to show her a picture of him. After scrolling past links to his company and click-baity articles from the local tabloids, I pull up a photo of him and his older brother from a few years ago. I hand the phone to her. She glances at it, her eyes wide.

“Oh wow...Riley… That’s Liam Rhys,” she says, warily.

“Yeah. What about it?”

She shakes her head and hands the phone back to me. “Nothing, it’s just his family is very well known throughout the city, as well as in the tabloids. Not to mention, he’s extremely attractive, so you need to be careful.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you trying to say, Hana?”

Her face turns serious. “You’re a wonderful person, Riley. I read those tabloids, and I see what they say about the nannies of public figures like him. I don’t want your name dragged through the mud because you were photographed staring too hard at Liam.”

“It will be fine, Hana. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I remember what happened with Ben Affleck’s nanny. And Gavin Rossdale’s nanny. And Jude Law’s nanny”

“Those men were also sleeping with their nannies while they were still married. Even if it gets that far, he’s getting divorced. We wouldn’t be doing anything wrong.”

“The public won’t see it that way. They’ll blame you for the split. Just be careful.”

I nod, taking her words seriously. Our waitress returns with our meals and we dig in. We spend the rest of the meal gossiping about our friends from college; who’s working where, who’s getting married, who got arrested, and so forth. After the check arrives, we pay our tabs and gather our things to head out. As we exited the restaurant, Hana turns to me and grabs my arm turning my body toward hers.

“Hey. I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need anything. Please don’t forget that.” 

I smiled and wrap her in a hug. “I know. Don’t think that I won’t take your words to heart. I know what I’m getting myself into with the Rhys family, and I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Of course, that’s what besties do.” Her phone chimes inside her purse. She releases me and reaches into her purse to retrieve it. She frowns then slides it back into her purse. “I’d ask you if you wanted to head over to The Double Tappe for a drink, but my mom wants me to come over. I’ll see you back at the apartment?”

“You bet. I think I’m going to head over to the Northbridge Mall and buy some new outfits for my new job.”

She laughs and wraps me up in another hug. “‘Kay. Call me later,” she says before turning and walking down the sidewalk. I wave goodbye and take off in the opposite direction. As I stroll down the street, I walk past a magazine stand. There on the rack is the latest issue of Trend the receptionist was reading earlier. I pull a $5 from my purse, and set it on the counter, before picking up a copy of the magazine. After thanking the cashier, I slip the magazine in my bag and continue walking until I reach the bus stop on the corner. When the bus arrives, I step on, flash my Transit Pass, and take a seat near the front. I settle in and pull the magazine out to read up on my new employers.  

The article shows pictures of Liam, Madeleine, and the kids at the park. The kids look adorable playing with their father and each other. Madeleine is sitting on a bench, her nose in her phone, wearing her usual resting bitch face. I swear, that woman never smiles. Then, there’s Liam. The butterflies in my stomach start fluttering at the sight of him playing with his children. The cutlines on the photos mention how happy he looks to be spending the day away from work with his kids, but I don’t need to read it. I can see it in his face. 

Despite his notoriety here in New York, he’s still a man that is devoted to his family. It’s a shame his soon-to-be ex-wife, couldn’t see that. Stop it, Riley. Their relationship is none of your business. But it is, though. Now that I’m working for their family, their business is my business. Which means I have to keep my mouth shut about what happens behind closed doors. I’d hate to lose my job because I told someone something, who told someone else, who leaked it to the press.

I read on and catch myself staring at the pictures of him. It’s unfair how good looking he is. The fact that he is a doting dad makes him that much sexier. My cheeks flush as I imagine sitting at the park with him and the children. In my fantasy, I’m sitting on a picnic blanket, a wicker basket full of snacks and drinks, while he chases Philip and Charlotte around the grass. After they tire themselves out, they wander over and I pass out juice boxes and crackers. Liam comes up behind them, smiling. When he reaches me, he kneels on the blanket, takes me in his arms, and presses the most sensual kiss to my lips. 

The squealing of the bus’s breaks rips me from my little daydream and I shove the magazine in my purse. Nope. Not going there. I exhale loudly and stare out the window as the bus continues down the street. Oh man, I’m in big trouble.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Holiday Cheer?

For @newsies-secret-santa I got @radioactivepigeons which is kinda funny and I thought was totally rad so please enjoy this silly fic! Words: 4,637 Rating: PG Summary: Blink got a job at Target and has to work Black Friday in the electronics department. Really things can only go up from here. AO3

Blink wanted to die. Well not literally. But if the choices were death and this? At least he wouldn’t have been miserable with the former.

He’d needed the extra cash, even though he despised the holiday season and the capitalist hellscape that it created with a deep burning passion, Blink’s laptop was about to die and there was just no way he could buy a new one and pay rent for the month. Thus, the seasonal hours he was picking up at a Target out on Long Island. Which meant working Black Friday. Joy to the ducking world. 

It was now almost three hours into his shift and he was being screamed at by his fourth Suburban Mom With Bad Highlights. Honestly? Blink was kinda numb to it at this point. In some not so distant aisle a baby wailed. Soccer Mom took a breath and Blink seized his opportunity before she could continue yelling at him.

“I’m sorry ma’am but we are sold out. Our system says that there’s three left at our West Orange location though.” 

She huffed but grabbed her cart and shoved her way out of the electronics department. 

In the aftermath, Blink allowed his faux charming smile to falter for just a second. He hadn’t been able to let it drop so far since his manager had informed him that the costumers might find his eye patch “off putting” which he would normally reply a “fuck you” to but he really needed this job.

If Blink’s ancient laptop finally bit the dust, then he wouldn’t be able to use the text to speech program that he needed to complete his readings. Because after a day full of classes, meetings, essays, research, and TA-ing he was tired. Reading was just. Not an option. He was lucky his vision held out until he got home. If his laptop died, he could kiss his long dreamt of PhD in English Lit goodbye. And Blink was one stubborn son of a bitch so that was not happening. He’d gotten this far; he could get through December.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

He had to get through today first though. And damn these people were sure making that hard. 

The baby stopped crying abruptly and a John Mulaney quote sprung to Blink’s mind. He didn’t mean to, but he mumbled it anyway, “You hope it was a miracle… but probably not.” 

A muffled snort sounded from in front of Blink and he felt himself flush with embarrassment when he looked up to see a guy standing there on the other side of the counter. A very good-looking guy. A downright hot guy with a mess of curls and what appeared to be dimples as he laughed at Blink. And oh duck. He was laughing at Blink. 

“Please tell me you were consciously aware of the fact that you were quoting John Mulaney about a baby,” Hot Guy was saying now. And god it was shitty of Blink to just completely objectify him like that but damn it was internal, barely six a.m., and what else was he supposed to call him? 

Blink smiled, for real this time, and gave a shrug. Which actually felt kinda good after having not moved from this spot since the store opened. “Can you blame me? It’s true.” 

Hot Guy laughed again, louder and longer this time and throwing his head back as he did so. It gave Blink a perfect view of his smooth, dark throat, his skin just a few shades lighter than his curls. He’d started to nod as he chuckled. “It’s true,” he was saying between laughs. And Blink couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with Blink or repeating what he’d said. 

Blink knew he was just grinning dopily him, but he really couldn’t help himself. He was practically dead on his feet and he hadn’t even had “lunch” yet here stood Blink’s dream partner. Cute, laughed at his stupid comments, knew John Mulaney quotes. Look, Blink knew it was a low bar, but you’d be surprised how few people managed to cross it. Normally it was the second point that tripped them up. 

Finally, Blink managed to come back to where and more importantly when he was. “Sorry, uh, is there anything I can help you with?” 

Th guy shook his head, his hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets and when he made a sweeping motion it pulled his unzipped coat into a sail. “Honestly? I’m just biding my time while my mom guilts my aunt into giving her the last of whatever toy my cousin desperately wants so that she can be the hero come Christmas morning.” 

“Wow,” Blink said with a low whistle. “That is some next level family drama.”

Hot Guy rolled his eyes but that smile never slipped. And thank god, Blink was pretty sure that looking at that smile for the rest of the holiday shopping season would keep him from wanting to commit a felony.

“They’re so competitive,” he was saying, “that now they have to come up with new ways to be competitive. It’s a mess. But can’t say that it makes for a dull holiday.”

He was buffeted by an overlarge man, pushing him closer to Blink’s counter and causing him to stumble. Instinctively, Blink reached out to steady him and managed to grab his upper arm. What felt like his very toned upper arm. Oh duck. Blink was so dead. He didn’t even know this guy’s name and he was already gone on him.

“Thanks,” Hot Guy said once he was steadied. He glanced to Blink’s nametag before looking back up at him with that brilliant smile. “Louis. Thanks Louis.”

“No problem,” Blink heard himself saying because that was it. Wherever Blink was now it wasn’t this plane of existence. He had no clue what he was doing or saying because internally he was just a mess of giddy screams. Pretty people just should not exist because this is what happened to Blink when they talked to him. “It’s insane in here, not your fault.” Oh duck. Had he been rambling? Man, he hoped he hadn’t been rambling.

The smile never slipped though so whatever nonsense was coming out of Blink’s mouth Hot Guy didn’t seem to mind.

Suddenly a voice cut through the chaos. “MIKEY! WE’RE LEAVING!”

His smile twisted into an apologetic wince. “That’s my mom,” Hot Guy told him and Blink was pulled none too gently back to reality. “I’ve gotta go or I will be left here. You always on electronics?” he asked quickly as he started backing away.

“Um, no just today.”

Hot Guy had reached the main aisle and was nodding. “Ok. Um, I’ll find you then?”

Blink nodded and raised his hand in a wave. Hot Guy, well apparently his name was Mikey, flashed him one last smile before sprinting towards the front of the store.

Blink meant to watch him as he walked away but a little old lady’s perm had filled his vision and when he looked down she was rather urgently holding out a stack of coupons and a flyer opened to the new iPhone. He had a few thoughts – who thought it was a good idea to let an octogenarian out Black Friday shopping at the peak of the crazy, there was no way those coupons were actually going to be accepted today, he was not authorized to sell iPhones, he did not have the patience to explain that he was not authorized to sell iPhones to her – but they all were shoved down as she started talking at him.

~

Two p.m. and the end of Blink’s shift did not come soon enough. He was due back bright and early tomorrow at seven, but luckily he was just stocking shelves the first few hours and wouldn’t have to properly think again until he had to work a register after lunch.

It was odd walking out into the bright afternoon sun after having gone into the liminal space that he now called his place of employment in total darkness. The parking lot was still full, and he squinted against the light as he searched for Sarah’s silver Toyota in a sea of silver sedans.

He finally found her at the back of the lot, seemingly talking to herself and waving her hands around as she did so. He knocked on the passenger window and she turned to beam at him before unlocking the car and continuing her conversation.

“I mean, I stand by what I said.”

“Oh, I know you do,” Katherine’s voice came out of the speakers, obviously on the other end of the call. “But that doesn’t mean it’s a viable option.”

“What are we talking about?” Blink asked. He rubbed his hands and held them up to the vent where Sarah was blasting warm air. The walk wasn’t that far but the wind had been killer.

“Murder,” Sarah said cheerily at the same time that Katherine said, “My family.”

“Ah, holidays,” Blink said with sarcasm laced cheer. The girls laughed and Blink sank further back into the seat, exhaustion finally hitting him full force.

“Ok, well I’ll let you two go. See you soon!” There was the sound of raised voices somewhere in the background and Blink guessed that Kath wasn’t just hanging up to let Blink and Sarah talk.

“Bye Kath’rine,” he mumbled.

“Bye Kath!” Sarah said brightly and then there was the weird boop of the call disconnecting. She turned to Blink – or at least he assumed she turned to him but Blink had enough seeing for one day thank you very much and so had pushed his eye patch up onto his forehead and had his eyes closed with his hands pressed over them – and started talking to him with the same enthusiasm. Which was refreshing from the faux happy of his coworkers and the misery of the shoppers but like Blink was not on that level. “So how was work?”

“I hate capitalism. And middle-aged white women. And Christmas.”

Sarah hummed as she put the car in drive and began to back out of the spot. “Yeah, best part of being Jewish? Not doing all that.”

Blink laughed. He hadn’t really done Christmas growing up, after his dad died it’d just been his mom and his brothers and him and his mom really tried but money was tight. Normally they each got a new book and just watched A Christmas Story. Which Blink really didn’t mind and he loved reading and well, he still uses the whole “You’ll shoot your eye out!” thing as his excuse when people ask him about the patch. Just says, “Ralphie was lucky, he was wearing glasses. Me… well I used to have 20/20 vision.” It made people laugh and he didn’t actually have to answer the question.

But all this Black Friday nonsense? All this “buying the perfect gift” and making it the “best Christmas ever” and trying to be a picture-perfect Norman Rockwell family just for the one day a year even though everyone knew it was a sham? Yeah, that was bullshit and a load of bullshit Blink really didn’t need in his life. But damn he needed that new laptop.

“Well thanks,” Blink said after a short silence.

“For what?” Sarah asked. They were good friends, thanks to Jack being one of Blink’s buddies from high school and Jack and Davey meeting in college and being, well, Jack and Davey and then Sarah being Dave’s sister it only made sense that they’d crossed paths freshman year and hit it off. Though they were probably the most surprised of anybody when they’d gotten so close over the next couple of years. Even then, Sarah wasn’t a mind reader and Blink had a habit of non sequiturs.

“Driving me to and from work. Especially today what with the hours. And then being willing to bring me out here every weekend for the next month,” Blink explained.

Sarah scoffed but Blink kept talking before she could start telling him how little she minded. He needed to get it off his chest.

“And for inviting me to Thanksgiving and letting me stay with you and your folks. I already thanked ‘em yesterday for it and for letting me stay the weekends but you’re driving and I’ll pay you for some of the gas once I get my first paycheck and-”

“Louis!” She cut him off and Sarah only ever called him Louis if she really needed his attention. “It’s fine! You don’t have to thank me or pay for gas! Jeez. I’m helping Les prep for his SATs and coming out every weekend anyway, it’s literally not a problem. Besides, my parents love you and since they moved out here they have the spare room. On top of all that, you’re one of my best friends, you’re always welcome at the Jacobs Family Thanksgiving, with all its insanity, and I’m more than happy to help you out in any way I can. We all are.”

Blink sighed and sat up to look at her. Sarah was glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his reaction. “You’re too good.”

She just smirked and shrugged. “I mean, I’m going to make you help me help Les so really you might want to rethink that.”

Blink laughed and he could tell that Sarah was pleased with herself. She let him sit in silence for a little while longer as she turned into the development that her parents had moved to when the twins were in high school. Mr. Jacobs had gotten injured at work due to the company cutting corners and not following the proper safety protocols. They’d sued and managed to win enough that they covered the medical bills and moved to the family out of their cramped apartment in Lower Manhattan to the nice house in suburban Long Island. Now, Mr. Jacobs served on the town council and worked as a safety inspector and the house had become a weekend refuge for their children’s ragtag group of friends.

“So,” Sarah said as they neared her parents’ house, “anything that you need to curse about from today before we get home?”

Groaning and throwing his hands up in the air made her laugh but the look Sarah gave him said she wasn’t going to accept that as an answer. Blink sighed. “If I never hear a thick Long Island accent again it’ll be too soon.”

That got him a snort. “You’re friends with Spot Conlon-”

“Who has a Brooklyn accent and yes there is a difference!”

Sarah scoffed, obviously not buying it but Blink was willing to die on this hill.

“I really don’t understand what everyone needs a seventy-five-inch tv for. Honestly. And now I officially cringe anytime I see a woman with a ‘Can I Speak to Your Manager’ haircut.”

Sarah turned into her driveway and parked but didn’t turn off the car yet. “That it?”

Blink shrugged and began to nod before freezing. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I nearly forgot.”

Sarah looked concerned and he knew he must have a horrified expression.

He turned to her and looked at her seriously. “Sarah.”

“Blink?”

“I met the love of my life this morning.”

“Really.” She sounded incredulous.

“I swear to you. I am in ducking love.”

“Uh huh. You get their number?”

Blink winced, remembering his mistake from being dead on his feet when he met the guy. “No…”

“Blink!”

“Look! It was early! Like before sunrise! And I was on the electronics counter! I’m lucky I was able to speak coherent English!”

Sarah snorted but remained silent, giving him the opportunity to redeem himself.

“I got his name,” Blink told her and was rewarded with an impressed raise of the brows. “And he said he’s gonna come back another day when it’s not crazy to see me so…”

With a sigh and a shake of the head Sarah showed that he’d lost any points he got by getting the guy’s name. “So? Who is he?”

“Uh, Mikey.”

“Mikey…? What. What’s his last name.”

Blink winced. “I just know his name’s Mikey.”

Sarah gave him a blank look and turned to shut off the car and get out. Blink resettled his eye patch and hurried to follow her. “You’re hopeless,” Sarah called over her shoulder as she walked to the door.

Blink sighed and followed. “I know.”

~

Saturday passed in a blur. Thankfully it was significantly less busy and Blink actually knew the answers to all the questions he was asked but it still drained him. He practically collapsed when he got in Sarah’s car.

“Mystery Mikey show up?” she teased but Blink knew there was genuine interest in there too.

Blink sighed. “No.”

“Well you’ve got time.”

Blink just shrugged and allowed himself to doze off as they drove.

~

Sunday afternoon saw Blink climbing out of Sarah’s car so he could get his bag and climb back into Sarah’s car so she, Blink, and Davey could all get back to the city. He felt absolutely wiped from his first weekend working at Target but knew it was all because of the sales. Some not so distant part of him said that he should just get used to this though because he was working weekends all holiday season and this was just going to be his life now.

He thanked Mr. Jacobs again and gave Mrs. Jacobs one last hug and Les’s hair one last ruffle before following Davey out the door. They both threw their bags in the trunk and Dave shot him a quizzical look.

“You even pack anything? You only needed red shirts and khakis,” he deadpanned.

Blink stared at him for a few seconds. “Wow. That joke? It was so funny I forgot to laugh.”

Davey snorted and Blink responded with an eyeroll. Normally he’d have smiled but he was too tired to do much else than turn to get back in the car.

He stopped as he caught sight of the next-door neighbors’ driveway. Next to a blue Honda was a mother hugging her adult son tightly. The guy had his eyes turned skyward and seemed to be enduring her public display of affection. It looked like he was gearing up to say something to her when he saw Blink though.

That was when Blink knew. He’d thought it was Mikey, his mystery crush from Friday, but when he froze Blink knew it was him.

Mikey’s mother could be heard asking him what was wrong as he stiffly released her and then she was turning to watch him cross over the grass dividing the two driveways and walk up to Blink.

They stood there staring at each other in shock. Sarah had come out and distantly Blink heard her ask Davey what was going on and Davey mumbling something back. But Blink didn’t care because what’re the odds that he’d actually meet the guy he’d decided he’d fallen in love with again?

“What’re you doing at the Jacobs?” Mikey finally asked in awe.

“Uh, spending the holiday? They’re letting me stay here while I work too cause I live in the city. And Sarah likes me for some reason so she’s driving me around.” Blink didn’t know where the blatant honesty word vomit had come from, but he blamed the shock.

Mikey laughed. Blink could do little else but stare.

“Blink!” Sarah finally called from where she stood at the driver’s door. “What is going on?”

“This is him!” Blink gestured towards the man in front of him, hoping desperately that Sarah would understand.

“Mush? Mush is who?” Sarah obviously did not understand.

“Him! Him,” Blink implored. “The guy from Black Friday!”

“What’re you talking about?” Davey sounded tired. But Davey always sounded tired. Blink elected to ignore him and go back to grinning dumbly at Mikey.

“Hold up,” Sarah said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Your Mystery Mikey is Mush from Next Door?”

“Apparently!” Mikey, or was it Mush? Did he have a preference? Or did Blink have to earn that? Was it an inside joke?

“I’m so lost,” Davey informed them and went to sit in the car.

“Why didn’t you just say that it was Mush?” Sarah sighed. “It could’ve saved so many melodramatic sighs.”

Blink felt his cheeks heat and glanced to see that Mush had bit his lip to try and keep from laughing. Duck that was adorable.

“Um, in Louis’s defense I never actually said my name,” Mikey/Mush finally spoke up. “If I’d have thought to properly introduce myself it would’ve been as Mush Meyers but I’m guessing you and the entire store heard my mom call me Mikey so…” He trailed off with a shrug.

Sarah snorted before Blink could reply. “You actually said your name was Louis?”

“It’s what’s on my nametag! No way I’m gonna run around telling random costumers to call me Blink. And it was busy and I was distracted,” here he gestured vaguely at Mush, “so I didn’t get the chance to say that I go by Kid Blink but most of my friends just call me Blink. Only people who don’t are my mom, my professors – with the exception of Jackson but he’s my advisor – and now my coworkers.”

“And me when I’m annoyed with you or want your attention,” Sarah added.

“And Sarah when she’s annoyed with me or wants my attention,” Blink corrected.

Mush nodded, that easy smile Blink had called to mind so many times in the past couple days was back. “Ok, let’s try this again.” He held out his hand, “Hi, name’s Mush.”

Blink beamed at him and shook his hand. “Kid Blink, but you can just call me Blink.”

“I think you’re really cute and funny and I’d love to get to know you better, want to get coffee some time?”

He didn’t think he could smile any wider after a six-hour shift as a cashier but somehow Blink managed it. “I would love that.”

“Awww, cute,” Sarah interrupted.

Blink turned to glare at her, but he caught Mush biting his lip again out of the corner of his eye. He was going to make sure that Mush always stood on his good side because Blink wasn’t ever going to miss a glimpse of that face if he could help it.

“Can you exchange numbers and plan this date that way?” She continued. “Not to be pushy but I really don’t want to get stuck in traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“Brooklyn,” Blink muttered in annoyance and was surprised to hear Mush do so too.

At Blink’s raised brows Mush shrugged. “It’s this guy I know, Spot Conlon, it’s his turf.”

“You know Spot?” Blink had to pause a second. How was it this guy lived next door to the Jacobs, or his mom obviously did, and he knew Spot Conlon and Blink had met him on the worst day of the year in a ducking Target electronics department.

“Yes, yes, and I’m sure it’s a thrilling story and I’m sure you’ll discover a million more little connections because Long Island and New York City are the biggest small town in the world and everybody knows somebody who knows somebody who knows you but traffic is not going to get any better the longer we stand here in the cold,” Sarah huffed.

Dave rolled down his window. “She’s right and will only get meaner.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said primly. Davey just nodded and the window went back up.

Blink turned back to Mush to see he already had his phone out and a new contact page pulled up. He took it and put in “Kid Blink” and in the company line “Alex from Target 2.0” before typing his number and sending himself a text.

Mush laughed when he took it back and Blink smiled in triumph. “I’ll text you,” Mush said firmly and he slid it back in his coat pocket.

“Uh, actually can I call you when I get home? It’s uh, it’s um-”

“Absolutely,” Mush cut him off and kept smiling. “Whatever you prefer.”

Blink smiled back and nodded. “Ok. Cool. Thanks.”

They both stood there grinning stupidly at each other until Sarah honked the horn, obviously having gotten cold and impatient. Blink waved as he got in and Sarah backed out of the driveway, watching Mush wave back until he disappeared.

~

The next Friday when Blink slid into Sarah’s car where she pulled up outside of his apartment building, he was met with a “Hello” and a surprise hug from the backseat. Blink turned to see Mush sitting back there and grinning wildly. They’d talked nearly every day this week and had gone on their first official date on Wednesday.

“What’re you doing here?” Blink asked in awe.

“My mom wants me to help put up the Christmas lights and I remembered you saying Sarah was taking you out with her on the weekends, so I texted her and asked if she’d mind if I tagged along.”

“Obviously I said no he couldn’t,” Sarah said dryly. “He’s also been recruited into the ‘Les Jacobs SAT Prep Squad.’” She looked at him seriously in the rearview mirror and Blink knew she wasn’t joking about that. Mush just laughed and shrugged.

“If I were a better friend and a worse sister, I’d have left him drive you,” she told Blink softly.

He looked back over the seat to Mush before turning back to Sarah. “Nah, this is perfect.”

They all chatted as they neared the Brooklyn Bridge before Sarah started grumbling about rush hour traffic.

“You know,” Blink said suddenly. “You never did say how you know Spot.”

Mush started laughing and launched into the story. Blink was so swept up in it, and most importantly Mush animatedly telling it, that he hardly even noticed as Sarah cursed up a storm.

Blink might still hate the holiday season. And really hate working retail. And especially hate working retail during the holiday season. And need a new laptop. But, with meeting Mush he thought that it was all more than worth it.

[retrauxpunk]

Rain, I ask you: ALL the quarantine asks!

Animated character that was your gay awakening? not really an ‘awakening’ so much as a ‘hint’, but Azula from Avatar: the Last Airbender ... yep

Grilled cheese or PB&J? GRILLED CHEESE

What show/YouTube video(s) do you put on in the background when you when you don’t have anything to watch but you want something on? I don’t really experience this mood, but my go-to watch is the vlogbrothers YouTube channel

Your go-to bar order, if you drink? if it’s a low-key/work outing, lager or cider (esp the ones with non-apple fruits too); if it’s getting more serious (lol) or with closer friends or a more celebratory mood: vodka with sparkling apple juice

What’s your favorite pair of shoes that you own? these Doc Martens that are white with red hearts got ’em with my first ever full time design job paycheck. i did not take care of them well so they’re super scuffed/beat-up and very much not Perfectly White ... but they’re still comfy as heck, i still love the design, and they’ve lasted 3 years so far, let’s see how much longer we can make it ... also i think they’re a limited edition so i likely won’t get my hands on any replacements...

Top three cuisines? my cheap-ass answer would be, like: East Asian, South-East Asian, Western European ... but my non-shit answer is... Japanese, Chinese, Italian (ftr i’m not a seafood fan ... i just love the ramen and non-seafood stuff that japan makes hehe)

What was your first word as a child (that wasn’t a variation of “Mom” or “Dad”)? i have no clue

What’s a job that you’ve had that people might be surprised to find out you’ve had? cold-calling strangers to ask them to do market research phone surveys (y)

Look up. What’s directly across from you? the kitchen

Do you own any signed books/memorabilia in general? i have a messenger bag that i got signed by Jeph Jacques of the Questionable Content webcomic that i once adored ... and I think my boyfriend has gifted me a signed Matthew Reilly hardcover.

Preferred way to spend a rainy day? curled up indoors wearing something cosy, reading and eating something delicious. playing animal crossing lol. aaaaand listening to music, a good podcast, watching stand-up comedy, drawing, getting intoxicated...

What do you get on your bagels? What WOULD you get if you had access to anything you wanted? occasionally the standard smoked salmon and cream cheese, but i slightly prefer the meat to be, like, prosciutto

Brunch or midnight snacks? ehh fuck it, both???? both!!

Favorite mug you own easter limited edition waitrose mug, squat and round and yellow, painted/shaped like a very round chick. a Borb,,,,

What coffee drink would you describe yourself as? i actually thought about this and, uh, peppermint mocha. not for everyone, slightly weird, never fitting in with the regulars/being a default, but???? obviously awesome?? also: about 65% on the mainstream/hipster scale

Pick a song lyric to describe your current mood (and drop the name and artist!) The Wombats is the artist. lyrics are either “Let's dance to Joy Division / and celebrate the irony / Everything is going wrong, / but we're so happy” from Let’s Dance to Joy Division or “the edge of nowhere’s such a beautiful place” from Emoticons

Fruity or herbal teas? herbal but i agree with @queenofslime, black tea is the best

What’s that one TV show that you’re a little bit embarrassed to watch but you still like nonetheless? ...do i experience embarrassment about what i like to watch on TV? i don’t know if i do, because i watch relatively few shows ... and have relatively little shame? maybe???

That book you were forced to read for class but actually ended up enjoying? ftr i wasn’t bitter about this before reading, i had no preconceived biases against, and i was pretty open to liking it -- The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri

Do you match your socks? if they’re of a really nice design then yes always, if they’re of a more standard/generic design then ... not necessarily

Have you ever been horseback riding? yes a few times ... on the last time which was like five years ago ... the lady said i was a natural and asked if i’d ridden much before, which was. flattering. and yes this is a Brag.

What was your “phase” when you were younger? (i.e., Mythology Nerd, Horse Girl, Space Geek, etc) didn’t have much of a hardcore phase but i was pretty much always into fantasy ... oh wait yeah i did! i had a spy phase :)

Have you ever been to jail? to closed-down ones, yep

What’s your opinion on Lazy Susan’s (the spinning tray in the middle of tables)? pretty great idea unequivocably, right?

Puzzles? i tend to enjoy riddles/lateral thinking puzzles, i am impartial about jigsaw puzzles. i enjoy escape rooms.

You can only have one juice for the rest of your life, what is it? apple ... but elderflower if i’m feeling reckless (y)

What section do you immediately head for when you walk into a bookstore? young adult ... or stationery

What’s one thing you’re trying to learn/relearn in your downtime right now? Russian language :( it’s going не так хорошо

Who’s your go-to musical artist when you’re feeling upbeat? not sure if i have a go-to artist so much as go-to playlists i’ve made but some good ones are The Wombats and Bastille 

Where could someone find you in a museum? mammals/birds in natural history

What’s that one outfit in your closet you never get the chance to wear but want to? i swear i was talking about this recently but i clean the fuck forgot what it was ... oh yeah, i have this short-sleeved black minidress festooned with silver buckles/buttons and also featuring decorative suspenders ... which, yes, does make me look like a sexy military officer,,, anyway it’s pretty badass and somehow it hasn’t occurred to me till now that i can just wear that every day now if i want? ftw i do get the chance to wear it, it’s just a little bit Extra so i get self-conscious. i’ve worn it a few times though. including to work. because fuck it, right? i didn’t become a graphic designer to be shy about sometimes looking like a prototypical emo/scene kid-turned-adult??? (ftr i was never an actual emo/scene kid. i lacked the requisite guts, commitment of feeling, and permissive parents.)

Rainbows, stars, or sunset colored clouds? sunset-coloured clouds :)

If you could own any non-traditional pet (dogs, cats, fish, rodents, etc), what would it be? how about a shapeshifting feathered dragon that could range from, like, two thirds of a foot long (20cm) to sit on your shoulder, to ... the size of a massive draft horse? (but longer and thinner)

Do you have more art on your walls or more photographs? photos, though if i didn’t live with a partner, it might be art

You have to get one meme tattooed on your body, what meme is it and where does it go? i’ve already got a meme tattooed on my body ... a private meme i have with my boyfriend, one on each leg (left: outer side, just above knee; right: outside, a few inches above the ankle)

Pick a superhero sidekick to hang out with ?????? is this a sidekick to a known superhero, or a superhero to act as your sidekick? also i don’t know? who are the standard heroes? i’m not up to date on this.

Lakes, rivers, or oceans? rivers or oceans

Favorite mid-2000s song i can’t decide a favourite, it’s too stressful, but one that i like is Rob Thomas’s Little Wonders

How do you dress when you’re home alone? either a t-shirt and PJ pants, or a dress (usually short-sleeved/sleeveless minidress)

Where do you sit in the living room (we all have a preferred spot, and you know it)? on either side of the couch haha

Knives or swords? BOTH but ok swords.

A song you didn’t think you’d enjoy but ended up loving hmmmmm like all of Linkin Park’s first three albums with some exceptions? hahahah

Pick an old-school Disney Channel Original Movie i don’t think i.....know any????

Are you a “Quote that relates to the photos” caption-er, an “explanation of where I took the photos” caption-er, or a no caption kinda person when you post pictures online? explanation, though on instagram quite often the photo and caption are unrelated

Name a classic Vine there’s only one thing worse than a rapist...

What’s the freezer food that you stock up on when you go to the grocery store? dumplings! as in the gyoza type.

How do you top your ice cream? that ‘magic’ chocolate sauce that hardens into chocolate. that stuff. i watched those ads all childhood long but my parents were immigrants and therefore very thrifty so we NEVER bought it iirc and then in my adulthood i got it a bunch of times. but now i live in the uk and can’t find it. and forgot it existed. and have never seen it anywhere.

Do you like Jello? the kind that’s served on a plate as a dessert? meh. the kind that are found in asian grocery stores as individual fruit-flavoured serves in little plastic cups? YES 

What’s something that you don’t have a picture of that you wish you did? future stock prices? LOL ... or i’m gonna go with @queenofslime‘s answer again -- how others see me. it’s a great answer.

How are you at climbing trees? not............ good. i mean, i like climbing, but i have absolutely terrible upper body strength. i did bouldering for a couple months but only stuck to the first like... three out of nine difficulty levels.

[cottonblush]

blooming days | pjs

❧ word count: 3,418

❧ genre: floof

❧ notes: i kinda hate this?? but it’s whatever. i’ll be working on more bulleted list scenarios soon (hopefully lmao). i have my ap stats test tomorrow and i literally feel like i’ll get a 1 even though i got 5s on my practice tests but imma go crazy anyway. also i started bujo-ing my ideas for my fics and i have these cute stickers that remind me of hamtaro!! anyway, i hope everyone has a nice day and is happy and healthy. don’t forget to drink lots of water. i actually started drinking it more often and i feel a lot better!  ty for coming to my ted talk! if anyone has any upcoming exams, good luck! uh also p.s: i probably spelled some stuff wrong but several of my reference sites were saying different things. p.p.s: this is unedited whoops

❧ parts: planting, budding, ---

The bustling sounds of the city slowly fade into background noise as Jisung finds his way back home after work, one foot slowly being placed in front of the other to form a peaceful saunter. He stops when he reaches an intersection not too far away from his street, eyes coming to rest on the soft glow of the neon sign that the neighborhood ramen shop has recently added. The light emanating from the quaint little restaurant is one of the few light sources that dots the street this late on a cold, wintry night as this one.

“It won’t hurt to get some on the way,” the boy mutters to himself, already stepping into the small, warmly lit restaurant, as if he would have needed any convincing in the first place.

He’s greeted by the familiar face of the ahjussi who owns the place. Eyes quickly scanning over the menu, he settles on the newest item that the store has to offer: fire noodles. He tells the older man what he would like, figuring it’ll be just like the processed noodles sold at the store he works at, before he strolls over to his usual seat by the window.

The young man turns around to resume people-watching the many teens and adults getting home at this time as well, releasing a soft sigh, placing his head in his left hand, and drumming his fingers against the soft skin of his face. The sun is setting, the last rays of marmalade tinted light streaming through the window. Jisung takes this time to remind himself that this is the part where Jaemin would tell him to take a selfie and get that “golden hour glow.” He almost does, but at that moment, a bowl of steaming noodles covered in a glistening, ruby colored sauce is placed in front of him.

The owner warily says when he finally comes around with the noodles, “It’s pretty spicy, just so you know.” However, Jisung brushes this off, telling the gentleman that he’s used to spicy food, and digs in, enjoying the familiar tingling feeling on his tongue that fire noodles tend to bring. The wet, pink muscle peaks out of his mouth and lap up any sauce that happens to escape.

After a while, the dull tingling turns into a burning sting all over Jisung’s mouth and salty tears start to well up in his eyes. Before he knows it, Jisung is full-on crying with ears full of the sounds of his own sniffles and doesn’t even notice the old lady that comes up to sit next to him.

The woman looks to be in her upper 60’s and when she gently pats Jisung’s shoulder to provide a sense of comfort, he recognizes her as the owner of the flower shop just next door. She rests her chin in her other hand and lets out a dreamy sigh. “Ah, I remember the feeling of young love,” she says.

This makes the young man turn to her, eyebrows knitted in confusion. He tries to explain, tone flustered and face quickly turning a bright shade of red, “I think you’re misunderstanding the situation. I’m not in-”

“Nonsense,” she replies, “I know just by the look on your face. You were thinking about someone special, weren’t you? And you were looking at those pretty gardenias in that vase. Everyone knows that’s the symbol for a secret love. Have you not told them yet? I think it’s best to just rip off the band-aid and get it over with, in my experience at least.”

Jisung wants to tell the lady that kids don’t just memorize the meanings of flowers, but he thinks that one: that might discourage her seeing as she runs a flower shop and seems to care a lot about it, and two: it’s a little rude. Instead, he puts on a calm façade and reassures her, “There really has been a misunderstanding here. I wasn’t really looking at those flowers on purpose. And I just ate some spicy noodles, so it looked like I was crying.”

The old lady slowly gets up and hums, “Whatever you say,” before going to place her own order. Jisung takes this as his queue to leave and gathers his things. Just before he places a hand on the door, he takes one last glance at the little flowers in the clear vase, wondering if maybe the lady is on to something.

It clearly sticks with him because later that night as he lays in his bed, covers pulled up and lights turned off, Jisung can’t seem to take his mind off the pretty white blossoms. For some reason, your face comes to mind, unknowingly bringing a small smile to his visage. His eyes slowly flutter shut, little memories of you playing against the back of his lids as if he’s in a dark movie theater watching a montage of the two of you.

I.

Halloween is quickly approaching, now less than a week away, and the gang (Jisung, you, Chenle, Haechan, and Renjun) has decided to get some pumpkins from a farm not too far away from town. As soon as you arrive, you and Haechan run ahead of the others, both trying to find the perfect pumpkin.

Jisung, on the other hand, chooses to take his time, leisurely walking alongside Chenle and Renjun as they discuss something about Chinese traditions around this time of the year. The leaves started to fall the week before, so for each step that Jisung takes, he hears a satisfying crunch beneath his shoes. The weather is still fairly pleasant, not yet to the point where you can see your breath in the air.

Sauntering through the gates to the pumpkin patch, the kids are greeted by the sight of rows upon rows of vibrant orange pumpkins, some small and cute, others larger and optimal for carving. Not even a couple of minutes in, everyone hears a high pitched yelp and looks over to find that Chenle has managed to trip on literally nothing but air, ending up face down on the ground and crushing several mini pumpkins beneath him. Renjun can’t help but snicker, leaving Jisung to help the poor, pouting boy back up to his feet.

Jisung is in the middle of helping Chenle wipe pumpkin guts off his shirt (that’s probably worth more than all of his life savings) when he notices you and Haechan bickering out of the corner of his eye.

“Dude, I totally saw it first,” you argue.

Haechan deadpans and says, “Sure, Y/n. And I’m actually Thor from The Avengers.”

You don’t hesitate to scoff at that and say, “More like Loki.”

The two of you are in your own world, not even noticing that Jisung, Renjun, and a now clean Chenle are sitting on the ground and acting like they’re watching the final showdown in an action movie.

Haechan picks up the pumpkin you two are fighting over, one of the largest in the patch that has no blemishes at all, and sets it behind him so that he can guard it. It turns out to be the wrong move because without a moment of hesitation, you launch a roundhouse kick into his side, watching as he flails on his way down to the ground. You quickly grab the prized pumpkin and run toward the owner of the farm.

Your voice is boisterous and full of glee as you call out, “Excuse me, sir. I’d like this one!” The sound of your laugh follows soon after when you see that Haechan is hot on your tail.

It’s cheesy, but as you get farther and farther away, Jisung tries to imprint the sound your laughter into his mind, wanting to save it for whenever he is feeling down.

II.

“Honestly, I don’t know how you get yourself in these situations, Y/n,” Renjun says, mirth lacing his voice as he wraps a bandage around your ankle. You’re slouched on a stool in the nurse’s office, leaning forward so you can observe the blonde-haired boy.

Renjun is the nurse’s assistant, which means that he sees you quite often given how clumsy you are. This time, you’ve managed to twist your ankle simply walking from your class to Jisu’s so you could compare grades on a recent test. Jisung happens to be there when it happens, so he helps you over to the nurse’s office and sits next to you, carefully doting over you until Renjun arrives.

You huff and cross your arms, rebutting, “Give me a break! I’m telling you one of the tiles in the hallway is uneven. I’m not that clumsy that I just trip over the air.”

At this, Renjun coughs into his elbow, muttering, “Yes you are.”

Jisung can’t deny that he feels a little twinge of something as he sees you playfully slap Renjun’s shoulder and give him a hearty laugh. He tries to laugh along, but it turns out to be an awkward chuckle.

Renjun turns to him with lips quirked upward and says, “Dude, you don’t even know how often she comes here. I’m surprised she’s not just a pile of bones at this point.”

Feeling plenty attacked, you say, “That’s it! I’m telling the administration that the literal nurse’s assistant is out here bullying me. And next time, I’ll just suffer on my own instead of coming to you.”

When the aforementioned assistant raises his hand to pinch your cheek and tell you to stop pouting, Jisung is finally able to identify the feeling bubbling up in the pit of his stomach: envy.

 III.

It’s probably well past midnight and Jisung has just fallen asleep. The sound of crickets chirping flows through the tiny opening of the window he forgot to close. His desk lamp is still on and the fan of his laptop is still softly humming. He’s woken up with a startle when the sound of his ringtone (which Chenle had recently set to the original Pokémon theme song in honor of the new movie) blares out, reverbing against the walls of his small bedroom. He’s about to throw his phone out the window when he squints at the screen and notices that it’s you and it’s a facetime video call.

The video is blurry at first, but the sound of your voice as his name falls from your lips in a shaky sigh is surprisingly clear. You aren’t crying, but every now and then, you let out a tiny sniffle. In addition, even with the low resolution of the video call, Jisung can see salty tears pooling up against your eyelids.

“I’m so nervous, Jisung,” you say shakily, “I don’t know what to do.”

Your phone is propped up against your wall or something on your desk, so the teen gets a full view of you as you drop your face in your hands and rub your eyes aggressively.

Jisung urges you to calm down, asking what’s wrong but being careful not to be too pushy. You explain that you feel like you’re going to fail the upcoming history test.

“I’ve tried to study, but everything is just going in one ear and out the other,” you explain.

The young man assures you that you’ll be fine, but when you shake your head and vehemently deny it, he tries a different approach. Giving you a couple of minutes to calm down, he offers to help you review for it.

And so he does. He starts from the beginning, carefully explaining each topic covered in class and making sure you’re paying attention. By the time you’ve covered the entire chapter, you’re resting your chin on your arm and gazing sleepily at your phone screen. After you’ve let out what Jisung thinks is your thousandth yawn, he tells you it’s time to sleep.

He packs away his notes and textbooks and is about to bid you goodnight when he notices that you’ve fallen asleep already. He freezes in his place, eyes not able to move from the way that your eyelashes gently fan against your cheeks and the way that several strands of hair have fallen to cover your face. He notices the heavy, dark eyebags that surround your eyes and the small amount of drool that’s already starting to escape your mouth.

Jisung quickly snaps out of his daze and presses the red button that ends the call, sitting back against his desk chair and closing his eyes. He’s much too tired to move to his bed and is probably bordering on a state of delirium, but he realizes that your face, no matter how sloppy or tired, is a sight he could get lost in any day at any time. And with that revelation, his mind descends into sleep while a soft smile rests on his lips.

 IV.

Jisung is stuffing his face with cheesy tteokbokki when his phone lights up with a several new notifications.

The first one is an email from his teacher, probably a response to a question he asked the day before. The second is a reminder that he has an appointment to get a haircut in a few days. And the most recent is a snapchat notification telling him that you’ve sent him a snap.

He sets down his utensils and picks up his phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the app. Tapping on your name with the red square next to it, he’s greeted with a picture of you with a small white puppy tucked under your chin.

The caption of the picture reads, “Moomin is doing great but he misses you :(”

To add some context, Moomin is a the stray dog that you, Jisung, and Renjun found one day on the way back after school. Of course, since Renjun “found him first,” he argued that he would get to pick a name.

Not even thinking about it, Jisung takes a screenshot of the picture, heart melting just a little bit at the sight of your smiling face pressed up against Moomin. But then the ten second timer expires and he’s greeted with the sight of two blue arrows, one overlapping the other. He drops his phone and covers his face with his hands, fingers split so that he could peep at his phone. He gets a text message from you not a moment later and he thinks he’s about to get exposed. His whole form is shaking with nervousness as he checks your text.

However, Jisung literally wants to bang his head on a wall as he sees that you’ve just sent him a picture of Moomin (this time without your face in the frame) and a message that reads, “If u wanted a pic of moomin so bad you should’ve just asked lol”

Only the gods will ever know how you can be so oblivious at times, but Jisung is glad. Now, he has a cute picture of you and a cute picture of Moomin, and he’s saved himself a ton of embarrassment. He also isn’t complaining because he finds it quite endearing when you’re dense (which happens a lot).

 V.

“Jeno, have I mentioned that you and Hana would look really good together? And she’s super smart just like you!”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, you should totally ask her out or something.”

It’s another regular day, and another occasion on with you are trying to set Jeno up with one of your many friends that are head over heels for the poor boy.

“I’m not really interested in her, though. Sorry, Y/n,” Jeno says awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck.

“You haven’t even given her a chance though,” you say, knowing that you’re beginning to sound childish.

At this moment, Chenle and Jisung run up to the two of you, asking what’s up.

You explain, “Jeno keeps turning down all of the friends I try to set him up with.”

You’re expecting Chenle to at least give you a sympathetic nod or something, but he releases a loud laugh instead.

In between his chuckles, he manages to say, “Are you kidding, Y/n? Jeno and Jaemin have been dating since my Halloween party.”

“What? What the actual heck?! Jeno! How could you not tell me?”

You stomp ahead of the trio, arms folded and head facing the ground. Jisung jogs to catch up with you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder and assuring you that they aren’t even that public with their relationship anyway.

You continue to sulk, asking, “Am I really that oblivious though?”

Recalling many previous experiences in which you were very much oblivious, Jisung decides it’s best not to answer, causing you to pout even more than you already are. And while Jisung thinks it’s a cute expression, he’d much rather see you smile. So he spends the rest of the day trying to cheer you up, spending the rest of his allowance on snacks at the tuck shop.

At the end of the day, his wallet is weeping and he’s never craved the red bean bun that you’re eating more than he does now, but it’s worth it to see that your spirits are lifted.

 VI.

It’s the first snow of the season and the gang is out playing in the park, reveling in the fact that they have no assignments or after school classes for the day. You’re sitting on a swing, sipping some hot chocolate and swaying back and forth. You inhale deeply and let out a sigh, watching as your breath vanishes into the air.

Jaemin runs up to you and asks to try some of your drink, probably thinking it’s some type of coffee. Of course, you comply, holding your steaming steel tumbler out to the young man. He takes one sip and his nose scrunches up.

“What is that? Oh my god,” he says.

“It’s peppermint hot chocolate, Nana. Not everyone can drink coffee 24/7 like you do.”

“Peppermint?! Dude, gross. The only things that go in hot chocolate are whipped cream and cinnamon.”

You shoot Jaemin an incredulous look and ask the rest of the group, “Shut up. Peppermint is superior, right guys?”

The rest of the boys are too busy sliding down the slides or trying to make snowballs out of the thin layer of snow that’s on the ground, so the only response you get is a couple of careless shrugs.

A couple of days later, Jisung is sitting in the convenience store once again and reminiscing about the good old days like any high school student does. He remembers you saying something about peppermint and subconsciously starts perusing the store, briefly recalling that they just got a shipment of Christmas themed air fresheners.

His eyes light up when he finds the peppermint scented ones nestled at the back of the display. He grabs one and takes it to the register, trying to convince himself that he wants to make his room smell nice and not that he’s going to use it to spray on his school uniform.

However, several hours later, he finds himself spraying the canister into his closet, coating all his clothes with the soft scent of peppermint candy.

You take notice of it immediately the next day, telling Jisung that he smells really nice, and his face turns a bright vermillion.

Chenle chortles and elbows his side, saying, “Yeah, Jisung. You smell sooooo good! What is it again? Peppermint? Isn’t that a coincidence?”

Jisung proceeds to shove Chenle against a set of lockers and cover the loud-mouthed boy’s mouth with one of his hands, ignoring the way you raise an eyebrow in question of his behavior.

He’d probably die if he got found out, but he’s glad you like it and will probably continue to use his new “cologne” well into the summer seasons.

As Jisung finally descends into a state of light slumber, a warm feeling spreading across his body. It’s like he’s sitting by a fireplace wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, wearing the fancy slippers that he stole from hotel that Chenle took him to one time. It’s like the sun is shining down on his face on a cloudless day. Every memorable instance of you (which is basically every single one) is coming together, each one like a petal of a delicate flower.

He doesn’t know it yet, but that metaphorical flower will soon be in full bloom, and with it will come a realization that he may or may not be ready for.