#oh yeah I guess I should say that these were for an old portfolio

[insomniphic]

Here’s more old art lol

[oveliagirlhaditright]

The Mom Friend

Yeah… though Neku had certainly never signed up to be these four’s mom—and he still had no idea how that had happened—he now knew he wouldn’t change it for the world. Oneshot. Canon compliant. Mom friend Neku. Neo spoilers.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33385999

At first, if you had asked Neku if he had become the mom friend of the Wicked Twisters, he would have laughed in your face.

Because while he would admit he loved the youngins’—and was very protective of them—some old habits of wanting to be cool, and being somewhat rough around the edges, died hard.

But it was with Nagi that Neku finally realized that this was the case.

The girl had decided to go vegetarian, but her body was rejecting not having a lot of protein and thus needed something like nuts this very instance? Who was it but Neku, who went out to buy her some, at near three o’clock in the morning (because he was a good friend and had expanded his horizons that much), since her parents had recently died in a car crash and they could no longer do it for her, the poor girl.

So, Neku crept into Nagi’s dorm window around one-forty-five-ish—which, looking back on it, probably hadn’t been a good idea and could have scared his friend. But, hey: Neku had gotten used to being in the Game. And the week that Coco brought him back before he ran into Beat, he’d been in hiding, and had maybe gotten used to the idea some; and Nagi didn’t seem spooked, so maybe her mind was still stuck on sneaking around in the Reapers’ Game, too—and Nagi took the food out of Neku’s hands like it was the easiest thing in the world before ruffling his hair.

“Much obliged, Lord Neku,” she said as she fixed her glasses in this dim lighting, so she could see him better. Or so Neku guessed. “Now, hopefully, I can feel better enough, that I can work on my essay about the Canterbury Tales. …No one knows such suffering as me,” Nagi moaned, before going back to her bed and starting on the cashews.

“No, problem,” Neku said then—feeling sort of awkward, as he went to mess with a pair of headphones that were no longer on his person anymore—“if you need help with it… I, uhh, guess I could try and lend a hand. I have university coming up soon, too. And I know they’ll have me doing some English stuff, so…”

“Unless you want to be bored to tears, I suggest that you not make such a promise, unless your heart knows little joy,” Nagi warned him.

And Neku didn’t have to be told twice. So, he did backout of helping her with that paper.

But he knew when he visited Shiki soon—and she asked him what he’d been up to—she would still tease him about being the mom friend, for going out and buying protein for Nagi in the wee hours of the morning.

…

And it continued on like that… and Neku was somewhat loath to admit it, because hey: he had an image to uphold here.

But then again… maybe not, because if this was him pushing out his borders as far as they would go—as Mr. H had instructed him to do three years ago—Neku knew he would gladly do so… even at the risk was being called a “mom”, and even an “old maid”, or something.

Right now, Rindo had severely hurt his ankle… and who was he holding onto as they hobbled away, with designs to get him to a hospital? Neku.

“This is the last time I ever try something from the 90’s again!” Rindo complained, as Neku was half-carrying him to his car now (and how nice it was, that Neku could drive now—from memories of another him that hadn’t lost such formative years—that Joshua had implanted into his head).

“Yeah, Rindo… scooters were cool and everything—yours truly had one—but even I don’t know why you decided to try and bring them back now of all times… Especially since they had a bad habit of spinning right back around and nailing you in the ankle… which you know all too well now,”

And godamnit. Neku really had become the mom friend, huh, if he was now telling his younger friend this venture had been dangerous from the get-go, and how he could have easily seen that if he’d tried to?

Neku pulled on one of his spikes, irritated with himself here, but tried not to show Rindo, lest he think he was mad at him.

“Well, I’d thought about getting a motor scooter,” Rindo explained, Neku loading his pal into his backseat now. “So, I think that’s what got scooters on my brain… But I was trying to be green, and still think of a faster way to catch things in FanGo than walking! And now look where it got me. Oy! …But I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. This should be the least of my problems, when just a few weeks ago I was fighting for you guys’ survival, huh?”

And Rindo paused in where he’d been about to put a hand over his eyes, to peek at Neku now who was currently getting into the driver’s seat—as if he was asking for the past Living Legend to remind the new one to have his priorities straight.

“For real,” Neku told Rindo, whilst he started to pull away now. “When I got out, I was mostly thinking about the Game… about what Joshua did, and how even then, I still trusted him but couldn’t forgive him. And I was so excited to finally meet up with my friends—to finally have some and care about that—be glad, Rindo, that you got out with your friends, and there’s so much trust between you. Like there is between Josh and I now.”

And Rindo set down his phone then—apparently like he had when he first met Shoka in the RG—like he was really listening to what Neku had to say, and he had to appreciate that.

And it might have been his imagination… but Neku could have sworn he saw a flash of blue nodding his head at Neku’s words, as it sat back there with the injured Rindo.

…

The next time Neku ended up being the “mom” for someone in the Wicked Twisters, after the Game, it was with Fret.

It was towards the end of his and Rindo’s sophomore year of high school…

Fret had been ecstatic to come back to life, Neku had known, and wasn’t wasting his second chance. He had really thrown himself into his studies, Rindo had told Neku in private (quite proudly, Neku might add).

If he could keep it up, he would probably even be able to graduate early. And talent scouts were looking at him, Neku had been told: towards a kid who hadn’t strived that hard in school, but now was and excelling because of it.

Naturally, Fret had decided that his calling was fashion—everyone who had been playing the Reapers’ Game with him would have gathered just how much he loved clothes—and apparently he had really thrown himself into designing towards the end of the year, and was trying to put a portfolio together for Jupiter of the Monkey to look at: who the school was suggesting he try and intern with, as they had some connections with (and damn, if Neku didn’t wish he’d gone to Fret and Rindo’s school now, being a huge J of the M fan himself).

Part of Neku wondered why Fret just didn’t try to intern with Shiki during his senior year, but perhaps it was because he was afraid Shiki would just give him the position because they were friends and not because she really thought he was talented.

Anyway… Fret hadn’t gotten the internship. J of the M had said the Fret should try to use less color (you know what? Maybe Neku didn’t like them very much anymore…).

And since then… Fret had seemed to give up on his dream of being a fashion designer, and was trying to be an actor.

And, look: Neku had no problem if him wanting to do both, if he thought he could do it and this was really what Fret wanted… though call him crazy, but he felt like something else was at work here: something that Neku and Shiki had both experienced before.

So, Neku had sat Fret down to talk about it at Ken Doi’s—away from the filmmakers who were currently trying to film in Dogenzaka, that Fret had just been a part of—and laid it all out on the table, “It’s okay… to get Imposter Syndrome. I’ve had it before with my art. Even Shiki has before. But if you want to be an artist, you’re going to fall down a few times… Fret, I feel like you don’t want to be an actor, so much as you don’t mind people dinging your acting, because that isn’t something you care about as much as your designing.”

And after Neku had spoken, Fret somehow looked both like Neku had made him had an epiphany he hadn’t quite realized, and like Neku had stumbled upon the horrible truth he hadn’t wanted anyone to figure out.

Neku took a bite of the yummy curry that Ken Doi had been kind enough to make just for him, after he’d brought Joshua around recently (he’d said he’d missed the two of them. Go figure), and let Fret get his bearings.

And now he was sighing, and running a hand through his hair, much like Neku often did. Neku smiled, finding it hard not to sympathize.

“Oh, man. I really do have to get back into fashion, huh?”

“You do,” Neku agreed, wondering what wonderful articles of clothing Fret might come up with for him to wear in the future. Shoka, too. Really, with those two and Shiki and Eri, Neku had it made in the clothes department, and he was not complaining. “And it’ll be hard sometimes. But most things in life worth gaining are.”

And when Fret smiled back at him, Neku knew he’d made some progress here—which was good—and then he did one thing that was decidedly not mom-like, and let Fret get the bill. Why? Because Neku was a starving college student at this point, and Fret still had parents who paid for stuff for him.

…

And then the last person who needed Neku’s help (…for now, he guessed. Because apparently this was a full-time gig. And at this point, Neku wasn’t complaining because he happily would have taken custody of all the Wicked Twisters long ago if he could’ve), was Shoka.

…Who was freaking out after Rindo having tried to give her a promise ring and wasn’t at all being her usual FanGo loving self, where Rindo was concerned.

And, yeah… Shoka could be a bit of a tsundere sometimes, but Neku felt like the issue ran much deeper.

Neku also happened to see Shoka looking into the mirror a lot lately… And at first, he wondered if she’d become self-conscious like Shiki had been.

But upon hearing the arrogant comments that Shoka still said about herself—that Neku’s surrogate little sister so deserved to say, he thought—he knew that wasn’t the case.

He tried to use a bit of his soul power on her… because it turned out that Neku was strong enough to use it in the RG some, but all that really told the ginger was that it was a deep-rooted issue with Shoka and not what said issue was.

Finally, Neku knew he had to just talk to her.

“Let me in, Shoka,” he urged her—after he’d caught her looking at wedding dresses in her apartment at a group hang-out (it was just the two of them at said hang-out right now; everyone else had gone to get food for everybody). “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

And it was pretty fitting, Neku would later think, that he used Shiki’s old words to him with Shoka here, since she made him think of Shiki some—what with her favorite Mr. Mew hoodie and all. Especially when they’d been in the Game.

And at his question, Shoka sighed—like opening her thoughts to Neku was the biggest burden in the world—and dropped the magazine like it had burned her.

“What?” she demanded, fiddling with the zipper at her neck. “About Rindo? I feel like him wanting to give me a promise ring is silly—and of a time gone by—so of course I told him ‘no’, and give him a hard time about it. Not all of us can be you and Shiki, you know…”

And with that, Shoka seemed content to ignore Neku, and to go boot up her PS5 so she could play the “Stranger of Paradise” demo.

And, hey: more power to her—Neku thought it looked sick, too—but no way was he letting her get off that easily. “That’s a lie, Shoka, and we both know it. So, what’s really going on here?”

Shoka was sighing once more now—as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. And it probably was, with this tragic girl—but she shuffled on the couch closer to Neku, which he saw as a good sign. “Fine… I guess I should have known that I couldn’t lie to Mr. Soul-Reader… I just- I feel I look too much like them: Ayano and my little sister. And I know it’s dumb, but I worry about it.

“Will I be like Ayano and settle into one thing? Like, say I get really into being Rindo’s girlfriend here… but I force myself to marry him one day, because he really wants that: what if we end up living a loveless life because of that, I didn’t want to tie the knot but forced myself to just because it was what he desired? And since I look like Little Sis… If Rindo and I do end up together, what if I end up dying young like she did and leaving Rindo alone. It’s too much.”

And here Neku had to pull Shoka into a small hug and kiss the crown of her head, whilst he ran calming hands down her arms. Shoka had been through way too much trauma for someone so young. It wasn’t fair. But even with all of that… Neku had to make sure she was sure of one thing right now.

So, he got off the couch and kneeled in front of Shoka, so she was looking into his eyes, and wouldn’t miss how serious this was. “Shoka… you definitely have a lot of baggage there, that I do think you should talk to Rindo about. And I’m so sorry that you’ve lost so much family for someone so young… but know that your family isn’t you. Their lives aren’t yours, nor are the things that they did. The things you do are going to be totally different from them, and you have to make those decisions for yourself. Got it?”

“Okay, Neku,” Shoka allowed, while she helped to pull Neku back up now. And she seemed to be blushing a little… but that was okay, because so was he. Neku may have been the mom of this little group, but big declarations of the heart like that could still be hard for him.

“Thanks!” Shoka beamed, before throwing herself at Neku to give him a quick hug this time.

And Neku laughed slightly. “No problem. Now, what do you say we get super far in this awesome demo before our friends get back, for being losers in forgetting to take us with them to get the food?”

“I think that sounds like a pretty sweet deal!” Shoka agreed, already pulling away from Neku and going for the controller.

Yeah… though Neku had certainly never signed up to be these four’s mom—and he still had no idea how that had happened—he now knew he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Especially when the rest of his children came back happy—which was always a perfect sight to see—and Shoka did end up working things out with Rindo.

It was a wonderful world, indeed.

Author’s Note: Yeah, I’m headcanoning here that the last Dive that you do (not counting Rhyme) for the little ghost from Shinjuku was Shoka’s sister.

Hope you all enjoyed!

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 64 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet was not pleased by Team Adult’s discussion about Courtney, and Katya tried to grit her teeth and smile through her anxiety.

This Chapter: Katya continues to fake it, Tati rescues Courtney from Team Adult, Bianca makes nice, and Violet finds joy with an old friend.

***

“Katya! How are you, girl?” asked Alexis, giving her a tight hug that smelled like sweet florals.

Even though Katya had barely worked in Fame’s office, the entirety of the Galactica staff absolutely loved her, the crew always welcoming her back with open arms ever since the first time Trixie brought her back, everyone delighted to see her.

“Hi! I’m good, how are you?” Katya replied, touching the ruffles of her dark red skirt, doing her best to keep the smile on her face. “Love this dress.”

Alexis looked at her for a long moment before tilting her head and lowering her voice, asking, “Are you okay?”

Katya bit back a sarcastic reply. After all, Alexis couldn’t have guessed that she was about the 40th person tonight to ask her that question. Katya was trying her best, she really was, but simply maintaining her sanity all week had been hard enough.

She just didn’t have the energy to be her usual effervescent self, and she knew it.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Katya shrugged, the words an absolute lie since she honestly felt exhausted. “You know, this time of year the six year olds are a bit out of control. Christmas cheer and all.”

Alexis laughed, patting her on the arm. “Well, bless you for taking care of the little monsters.”

When Alexis left a few minutes later, Katya felt a familiar arm wrap around her shoulders. “You know, if you want to leave early, we can.”

“That’s okay, sugar butt.” Katya turned around, placing a kiss on Trixie’s cheek, her fiancé wearing a sparkly silver tuxedo. “I know it’s important for you to bond with your team.”

“Yeah, but it’s even more important that you’re okay,” Trixie told her softly, holding her against his side, his voice low and full of concern.

“Have I told you today that you’re my favorite?”

“No…”

Katya wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him flush against her, Trixie immediately responding to her dominance. “How about this...you go chat up whoever you need to, and I’ll go prepare a sampling of every dessert they have...then we can meet back at that table in 10 minutes for a taste test?”

“Oh, you’re so on, baby.”

He gave her an enthusiastic high-five before scampering away, Katya smiling at his jaunty little walk. She’d been feeling so guilty for days now, wondering if she’d ever be enough for him. If she couldn’t handle kids, would he still be happy? She supposed there was no way to truly know for sure, and that thought plagued her like no other.

“Hey Katya. Are you okay?”

Katya closed her eyes, taking a brief moment to center herself before forcing a sunny smile and turning towards April’s voice.

***

The Galactica party was a lot more fun than Tati expected, everyone so much sweeter than she had hoped. She had bumped into Violet, the two of them actually talking this time, and Ivy had said hello to her earlier, Tatianna still beyond grateful for how kind the redhead had been to her at the holiday show. And then of course, there was the lovely Max, who had taken some photos for Tati’s portfolio after they’d met in September.

“Hi Max!” she exclaimed, greeting him with a bright smile. “It’s great to see you again!”

“Tatianna, hello!” Max said, gesturing for her to stop and pose in front of a big glittering Christmas tree, snapping a few shots of her, laughing as she hammed it up, giving him her best poses. “Well done.”

“I feel so honored to be in front of your camera again,” Tati said.

“Not for the last time, I hope.”

“Oh god, me too. I honestly can’t thank you enough for that session we had.”

“So they were useful then?” Max asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Tatianna didn’t want to say that the simple photos Max had taken of her in his studio were a million times better than the meager gigs her agency had booked for her. It had been so much fun to shoot with him, Max guiding her with his calm voice and clear vision, the results speaking for himself even though Tatianna had just been doing what he asked. “They’re the best photos in my portfolio, hands down.”

“I know it’s tough when you’re starting out,” Max said, “But I’m sure you’ll find your niche; you’re very talented.”

“Thanks,” Tati said, hoping it wasn’t just something people said. It felt like she’d spent months pounding the pavement with little to show for it. Thank god for Courtney for getting her in with Galactica, because the holiday show had been her first major job for a real label, and she had her fingers crossed about walking for them during fashion week, hoping she’d done enough to prove herself.

She glanced towards Courtney once again, standing with Bianca and Miss Fame and what looked like a whole group of their high-roller friends, including the supermodel, Raven, who Tati still couldn’t believe she’d worked with. (Not that they’d exchanged two words, but even being in the same backstage area as her had been exciting.)

Tati knew that she should probably go over and say hi, but you couldn’t pay her to interrupt that group. Although from the look on Courtney’s face, she might have welcomed the interruption--poor girl looked stressed, clinging to Bianca’s hand for dear life.

Max followed her gaze, chuckling to himself. “Courtney’s new girlfriend is certainly a good person to know.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve met her before and I don’t think I left a very big impression. Although to be fair, she was real busy eye-fucking Courtney the whole time.”

Max laughed some more at that and said, “That sounds about accurate.”

Finally, Courtney glanced back in Tati’s direction, her eyes lighting up when she saw her. She leaned in, murmuring something into Bianca’s ear, then came bounding towards Tati, a relieved expression on her face.

“Augh, you look so fucking pretty!” Tati squealed, pulling Courtney in for a tight hug.

“Look who’s talking, golden goddess!” Courtney cried, taking her whole ensemble in, then turning to Max to add, “Hi Max, how are you?”

“I’m well, thanks,” Max said, picking up his camera again and snapping a shot of the two of them, Courtney on her tiptoes. “I should probably leave you ladies to catch up. Have a lovely evening.”

“Bye!”

“I love these shoes!” Tati said, spinning Courtney around.

“Thank you, they’re Bianca’s,” Courtney said, beaming up at her.

“So...how’s that all going? Are you having fun?”

“Tonight?” Courtney asked, smile fading, the look on her face betraying exactly how much fun she was not having. “Tonight’s been...interesting. I mean she’s amazing. And walking the red carpet together was just the most exciting moment of my whole life.”

“Aww…” Tati grinned, then asked, “...but?”

“But...her friends are...not quite in favor of it. I think they think she could do better.”

“Fuck them! You’re a goddamn catch.”

“Thank you,” Courtney giggled, then waved to someone excitedly. “Oh! There’s Alaska! She’s the best, she’s in charge of the makeup department and she told me they’re gonna be casting the next campaign in January. Let’s go say hi!”

“I love you…” Tati said, letting Courtney pull her over to a striking blonde woman in a blue gown with sky-high heels and even higher hair.

Tati stood up straight, hoping to make a good impression, but their exchange with Alaska was quickly cut short when a swarm of people flocked over to hammer Courtney with questions about her scandalous date.

“Are you guys actually a couple?”

“Is Miss Fame mad?”

“How long has it been going on?”

“Are the rumors true?”

Courtney laughed, taking the questions in stride and giving very diplomatic answers along with a few knowing winks, finally able to loosen up and have fun.

***

Shangela loved the annual Christmas party. Sure, it was a pain to put together, Fame’s attention to detail and demand for perfection almost impossible to keep up with, and yet, they managed it every single year, the result always worth it.

“Mmh!” Rita moaned, her eyes closed. “God, this gelato is magnificent!” The HR director was dressed in a sparkly blue suit, her hair twisted in a tight updo.

“Do you two want a room?” Jaida raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed, her white nails tapping against her brown skin. She was dressed in glittery royal purple, and looked like a million bucks.

“Do not be jealous of those of us who have chosen comfort over beauty,” Rita smiled, her accent coming out. “You might be skinny, but I, I have gelato.”

Shangela snorted, Jaida hitting Rita’s shoulder and leaning in for a taste.

“Guys!” Shangela looked out on the dance floor, Kiara standing there with her arms over her head decked out in sparkling gold, Laganja next to her in gorgeous yellow. “Get on out here!”

“Come on!” Laganja cupped her mouth, “or are you scared you can’t shake it?!”

“Ugh!” Shangela gasped, holding a hand to her chest. “Girl you did not just say that to my face! Move aside!”

***

Bianca loved her friends, but she knew how intense and judgmental they could be, and so she was glad to see Courtney finally having fun on the dance floor with Tati. She smiled slightly to herself, watching as Courtney twirled and laughed--the lowkey shade she’d gracefully endured earlier seemingly forgotten.

She turned back to the group, catching Fame’s eye and giving her what she hoped was her most charming smile. Fame narrowed her eyes slightly, lips pursed, and Bianca sidled up to her, putting an arm around her waist.

“So on a scale of 1 to 10...how mad are you?” Bianca asked softly.

“A 7.” Fame’s voice was cold, but she didn’t push on Bianca’s arms, didn’t try to wiggle out of her embrace.

“I’ll take that,” Bianca laughed, a moment of relief fluttering in her chest.

“You know I hate being blindsided,” Fame told her.

“I know, I know...but be honest. If I’d called you and told you that I was bringing her, what would you have said?”

“I’d have said the same thing I told you a month ago.” Fame looked at her, her blue-gray eyes filled with annoyance. “Absolutely not. Stay away from my staff, and for damn sure don’t bring them anywhere near a red carpet.”

“Exactly.”

Fame rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Bianca, but not making any move to get away from her gasp. She was definitely peeved, and wanted Bianca to know, but they’d be okay. And Bianca had no doubt that once her friends realized that her relationship with Courtney was serious--and even better, than it was making her so absolutely happy--they’d all get on board.

Bianca leaned in and pressed a kiss to Fame’s cheek, then inquired, “Still a 7?”

Fame gave her some side eye before admitting, “Maybe a six and a half.”

“Hey, progress!” Bianca said, clinking their glasses together, Fame not pulling away which Bianca took as another win. “That’s barely more than usual.”

“If you ever,” Fame pointed at Bianca, champagne twirling around in her glass, “pull something like this again,” Fame’s voice was firm and hard, a warning tone in it that left no room for arguments. “I might not be so forgiving.”

“So you’re saying don’t propose at your Spring runway show?” Bianca asked, a mischievous grin deepening her dimples.

“Bianca, that’s not funny,” Fame sighed, exasperation radiating from her and Bianca laughed, hugging her tight. “If I thought you’d still be together in February, you’d be on very thin ice right now.”

“Good one, blondie,” Bianca said. Given the circumstances, she decided it was better to let her have that one.

***

Courtney had never liked her coworkers more than tonight, on the dance floor. She was so used to seeing everyone in their serious, professional modes, but getting tipsy and a bit silly with them was a much-needed reprieve.

However, as much fun as it was, her eyes kept getting pulled towards Bianca, and her dimples, and the hand that was wrapped around her glass that Courtney wished was wrapped around her thigh. At one point, she glanced over to find Bianca gazing back at her, tingles rushing up her spine as their eyes met.

She smiled slowly, giving her best hair toss and bedroom eyes, hips moving in a slow, lazy circle. Then, for good measure, just to really hammer the message home, she took her fingers and slid them slowly up her thigh, lifting her skirt ever so slightly.

Bianca’s expression barely changed, but Courtney was watching closely enough to detect the slight quirk of her eyebrow, the smile tugging on her lips. She also saw Bianca’s eyes flick over to the exit, then back to her, and gave the faintest nod of agreement.

“Tati? Would you hate me if I took off?”

“What?” Tati yelled over the music, laughing as Bob took her hand and spun her in a circle. “No, go get laid, girl. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

And with one last air kiss, Courtney headed for the door, nearly skipping towards the exit.

Bianca took longer than her to extricate herself from her friend group, and by the time she made it out to the lobby, Courtney was already waiting, posed, leaning against a table covered in poinsettias.

Bianca threw open the door, striding towards her quickly, taking her face into her hands and kissing her hungrily. When she pulled away, she was already breathing hard, one hand wrapped around Courtney’s waist, the other tangled in her hair.

“Did you have fun in there?”

“It was alright,” Bianca murmured, lips trailing down her jaw. “Fuck, why didn’t I get a hotel room for us?”

“Um, because you live four blocks away?” Courtney ventured as her eyes fell closed.

“Four long, endless blocks,” Bianca moaned softly, fingers gripping her waist tighter.

“Come on…” Courtney giggled, pushing off from the table and heading for the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

“Uh!” Pearl’s eyes widened as she swallowed, an explosion of deliciousness in her mouth. She reached down, stabbing another piece of the passion fruit mousse on her fork. She had spotted Violet sitting by herself, her friend clearly not having a good time, so Pearl had done what any great bro would do, which was kidnap her, the two of them now tucked away in the darkest corner she could find.

“Try this one Vivi!”

“What?” Violet looked at her like she was crazy, a raspberry tart on her half of the plate and Pearl couldn’t help but laugh. Their legs were intertwined, the seat they had taken not nearly big enough for two adults. Pearl had grabbed them a plate of the teeny tiny desserts that had been put out, the treats resting on Pearl’s thigh and Violet’s skirt.

“Come on,” Pearl grinned, raising the fork, “Here comes the airplane.”

“You’re insane,” Violet laughed, the frown of her beautiful face completely gone.

“Open wide!” Pearl moved the fork forward, making an airplane noise, Violet hitting her hand to get it away from her face.

“Pearl!” Violet cried, outrage in her voice, even though she was still laughing, their plate almost toppling over, Pearl popping the bite in her own mouth.

“I’ll get you next time.” Pearl wiggled her brows, swallowing the mousse down.

“Please,” Violet sounded exasperated, but she was adorable when she was upset, Pearl knowing few things that were more fun than ruffling Violet’s feathers. Pearl was just about to go for Violet’s raspberry tart, stealing it a surefire way to get into another play fight, when she saw light coming out of Violet’s clutch.

“Umh, Vivi?” Pearl pointed to the ground, “Your bag is glowing.”

“Shit!” Violet’s eyes widened, and she lunged for her clutch, nearly tipping over the plate as she fished her phone out.

***

“Fuck!” Courtney exclaimed, Bianca all but hurling her onto the bed, her dress tossed to the floor the second they’d stepped off the elevator.

Courtney was already on edge from the ride home, Bianca driving her absolutely nuts in the backseat of the town car, sucking wet kisses into her neck, toying with the little decorative buttons on the front of her panties. She sprawled on the bed, legs danging over the side, looking up wild-eyed at Bianca standing above her, tugging her down by the skirt.

“Please, B...”

“Please what, angel?” Bianca asked, flashing her a wicked smirk as she slowly knelt down between her legs.

“I...I…”

“I love these practical undies,” Bianca said, fingers trailing over the edge of Courtney’s gray, boy-cut panties. She dipped her head, teeth pulling at the little buttons, the pressure against Courtney’s clit even better than it had been in the car, immediately making her grasp the covers in her fists.

“I love seeing you all wet like this, baby.” Bianca nuzzled into the front of her panties, then began to kiss down her thigh.

“So wet,” Courtney echoed, thrusting her hips up, begging, “Take them off, please.”

Bianca pressed one more kiss to her inner thigh, then began to slide her panties down. She let go of the covers, hands going to her tits, playing with her nipples to release some of the pressure building up in her abdomen.

“In a hurry?” Bianca teased, lips ghosting over her.

“I need…”

“What do you need, angel? Tell me,” Bianca urged, nibbling gently on her thigh, mouth moving higher. “Tell me.”

“You tongue…” she whined, not caring how needy and strung-out she must have seemed.

“Uh huh...where?” Bianca licked her, so gently she thought she might scream, right at the crease of her thigh.

Courtney let out an impatient, strangled moan, pinching her nipples hard, hips rolling faster now. She could feel Bianca’s hot breath against her, and all she wanted was that mouth, that tongue, but words were failing her. The only thing she could manage was a gasping litany of, “Please please please please…”

It seemed to work, though, Bianca swirling a tongue over her, finally, strong hands holding her shaking legs apart. Her body responded fully to every generous touch, arching up, whimpers turning soon to full-throated moans.

***

“You know,” Sutan reached out, closing the cab door, Violet’s crutches against his chest as the car pulled out, juggling everything while tipsy a huge pain. “I can’t wait for these,” Sutan moved his arm, the crutches clacking, “to be obsolete.”

It had taken forever to find Violet, her phone going to voicemail the first three times he had tried it, and while he wasn’t proud of it, it had taken a few deep breaths not to panic.

Apparently, the vibration on it had died months ago, the fact that he had a 23 year old girlfriend who actually had the sound turned on on her phone in her everyday life deeply bizarre.

“I’m sorry that me getting around is such a huge inconvenience for you.” Violet was leaning back into the seat, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll tell my broken bones to hurry up.”

Sutan realised how stupid he had just been, Violet’s struggle so much grater than the hassle he felt.

“Sorry.” He went for an apologetic smile, hoping it was clear on his face that he meant it. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Mmh?” Violet looked over at him, and Sutan put her crutches down against the window, hoping that they’d stay in place.

“Yes mmh.” He moved closer, their driver ignoring them completely as his hand touched Violet’s knee, his arm sneaking around the back seat, boxing her in. “Can you forgive me?”

“Hmm,” Violet hummed, the sweet lavender scent that had become synonymous with her filling his nose, the prettiest blush dusted over her cheeks. “I’ll consider it.”

“Good,” Sutan grinned, “because I am very, very, very sorry.”

“Oh god,” Violet rolled her eyes, a chuckle leaving her. “You absolute idiot.” She reached out, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss, their lips touching as Sutan pressed her against the car door, their trip home a lot more interesting now.

***

“Go go go go!” Alaska laughed, clapping her hands together as Kandy and Ivy slammed back shots. Most of the non-staff guests had left by then, staying once the cameras had disappeared not that interesting. It was, of course, the best part of the night, as the lights went down and the bass turned up.

“Yeees!” Alaska cheered as Ivy finished the 5th shot and slammed the glass down seconds before Kandy.

“Everybody!” Shangela grabbed Ivy’s hand, “We have a winner!” She thrusted it into the air, making everyone laugh, and Alaska felt like she was flying high.

She grabbed her vodka soda, looking around the room, only just spotting Kim Chi who was bent over  a couch, drawing a moustache with lipstick on Amy who had passed out. As their boss, Alaska had a fleeting concern, wondering if she should intervene, but then shrugged, realizing how hilarious it was, and turned back to Shangela to take another shot.

[justjessame]

Starting Over Chapter 26

I finished my call with Connie, who was begging for details about just how hot things had gotten between Bucky and me, forcing me to ask her how she’d feel if I pressed her for details about her sex life with Joey.

“What do you want to know?”  She asked, clearly settling in for a LONG chat.  “Favorite positions?  How we have to squeeze it in between games or how we have to smother noises so Bryn doesn’t hear us having fun times and want to see what Mommy and Daddy are doing so she can join in?”  I cringed so badly that I felt certain she could FEEL it.  “Seriously, Brooke, I’ll share anything you want to know.”  

“Yeah, I’m good,” I shook off the idea of Joey naked, a guy who was like a brother to me.  “I thought it would nip your curiosity in the bud, weirdo.”

Connie snickered.  “Sure,” I could hear her opening a can of something, soda or booze I couldn’t guess.  “I have to live through you, Brookie, you’re my single friend who is dating an AVENGER.”  I shook my head and rolled my eyes.  “Bucky Barnes isn’t just an Avenger, he’s Captain America’s best friend who happens to be over a hundred years old and still looks like he looks.  I mean, there are LAYERS of hotness there.”  

I couldn’t disagree with her there, so I gave her a few nuggets to keep her from going completely batty.  Enough to whet her appetite, but not enough to make me unable to make eye contact when both Bucky and I were in her presence together.  After promising to check in with her within REASON, I told her goodbye and got out of the car - grabbing my camera from the trunk and then locking the car before heading down the docks in search of inspiration for my portfolio.  

I spent the day capturing life on the docks in a small Louisiana town.  Instead of focusing on Sam and Bucky, with a dose of Sarah and her sons, I weaved through the other boats and fishermen snapping shots that caught my eye - the way the light danced off the ripples on the water or the way the men and women worked with purpose but also with a shared love of their jobs.  No one posed, even when they took notice of me snapping pictures, they simply took my presence as a normal one.  Maybe equating me with Sam’s return and Bucky’s added residency - just one more person to join their group and the camera came along for the ride.  

I was sitting on a bench going through the frames as the sun was sinking lower when I felt him join me, his shadow my first warning, but his warmth coming soon after.  

“You kept your distance today,” Bucky’s arm found a home along the back of the bench and across my shoulders, the scent of hard work and his musk invading my senses and getting the smile I’d decided was his alone to curl across my lips.  “Did you get any good shots?”  He leaned closer, our temples touching so he could see the viewer.

“I didn’t do too badly,” I offered, tilting the camera a little so he could see better.  “How about you?  Is the boat looking good enough to sell?”  I moved closer, like a moth to a flame, needing to be closer to him.  

He hummed, moving his free hand to help my immobile finger click through my pictures.  “It’s getting there.”  He paused at a picture I’d taken that had the boats out of focus, but the ripples of the water were perfectly in focus, the light capturing each ripple and you could see the fish just below.  “How do you do this?”  He sounded so impressed, like he couldn’t imagine anyone being able to do it.  

I shrugged.  “It’s the same as with the boys and the shield really.”  It was, you just had to capture the light at the right moment.  “The light has to hit at the right moment, and you have to be in the right spot.”  It wasn’t that huge of a deal, almost anyone with a camera and patience could do it.  “It does look nice.”  

“Nice,” he shook his head and turned to stare into my eyes.  “Brooke, you amaze me.”  I opened my mouth to tell him if he was shocked by this trick he should see what I could do with a color splash editing, but he didn’t give me a chance, his head dipped and his mouth met mine and anything I planned on saying died as the urge to taste him took over.  

Just like when I arrived and we first saw one another at Sarah’s house, everything else fell away and we forgot where we were and that there were other people nearby.  When Bucky touched me, when our lips met we forgot the world - but lucky for us Sam was close by and he came to our “rescue”.  With a gentle tap on Bucky’s head and a LOUD reminder that we were still on the docks, we managed to pull apart, but it was a close one.

“Y’all are going to end up in jail for indecent exposure,” Sam was smirking, dimple digging deep in one cheek.  “I swear to God, I think a few of these folks were using their cell phones to record y’all and no one wants to see that go viral.” My eyes went wide just thinking about Connie getting her eyes on that - Shit.  “Yeah, exactly.”  He shook his head, but his grin didn’t leave his face.  “Might I suggest you head back to your hotel?  You know, before someone calls the police, or the dock catches fire?”  

Bucky rolled his eyes.  “You act like no one down here ever kisses in public,” he stood up and held out his hand to help me up.  “I swear, Sam, you’re a prude.”  He shook his head.  “I expected someone from YOUR time to be more OPEN.”  He was staring at Sam like he expected better and that had me biting my lip to hold back my laughter.  

“PDA is a fine line to walk, Bucky Barnes,” Sam countered.  “A FINE line, and what y’all were doing was crossing the line into the indecent.”  Sam shook his head.  “Should head to a church and light a candle, that’s what you should be doing.”  

“You’re advising that I go to Mass?”  Bucky was staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind and I was thinking I was going to end up pissing my pants from this showdown.  “Are you even Catholic?  Are you sure I am?”  He was staring at Sam and I couldn’t look at either of them anymore, or I’d fucking die.  

“Pretty sure Brooke is,” Sam tossed out and I snorted, I couldn’t help it, it just slipped out.  “See!” Not sure how my snort was proof, even though I AM Catholic, but still.  “She is, told you.”  

“She snorted at you because you’re crazy,” Bucky sounded like he was about to call the loony bin to have Sam locked up.  “Light a candle.”  He sighed.  “We’ll light candles, alright.”  He was still holding my hand, but his fingers were sliding over my knuckles in a way that told me those candles weren’t going to be anywhere near a church.  “Candles, a nice hot bubble bath, then bed -” my stomach clenched and a few other places.  “And trust me, Sam, if we DO go to church?  The priest is gonna need to go to Mass to have someone to confess to afterward.”  

We were in the car on the way to the hotel and I was still holding back laughter and I was feeling a little - well to be honest, Bucky set a pretty high fucking bar.  It was quiet again, but I had some thoughts to be lost in.  Finally I had to let something out, so I went with the giggles from the utter insanity of it all. 

“Better?”  Bucky asked, once I let out most of the hysterical laughter I’d pent up during his and Sam’s back and forth.  I gasped myself back to some sense of calm, and nodded, but then the absurdity of what he had alluded to about what we would be getting into during our alone time started to set in and I wondered if I could even manage that level of - what the fuck was he thinking?!

“The priest is gonna need to confess after is he?”  I was fidgeting, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into with this superman?  

Bucky chuckled, pulling into the lot of our hotel, but then he realized that I wasn’t joining him and he parked and turned to me.  “Brooke?”  Seeing my fingers tugging at my shirt hem and fiddling with the seatbelt, he unbuckled it.  “What is it?”  

“That’s a pretty damn high standard, Buck.”  I bit my lip and his thumb met my teeth and traced where I was worrying the skin.  “I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Oh, doll, no.”  He shook his head and unbuckled his own seatbelt.  Pulling me to him, he held me and told me that I couldn’t disappoint him, ever.  “You are more than I deserve, more than I can ever hope to deserve.”  I was about to argue, but he stopped me.  “This is me calming you down, Brooke Ashley,” he reminded me.  And I smiled at him.  “I may have went a bit overboard in baiting Sam, but what we have - it’s more than I ever expected to ever have with anyone.”  His brow was furrowed and he was cupping my face between his hands, holding me as carefully as if I were made of glass.  “You and me, Brooke.  We could make a priest blush without trying, but if we DID try,” and that did it, I laughed, and his smile came back.  Then our lips met and all was right in our world again.  

We didn’t need the car horn to stop us this time.  We even managed to bring my camera equipment and our phones upstairs with us.  We ordered dinner and ate first.  We did have a bubble bath, a tight squeeze in that hotel bathtub let me tell you, but then - like he’d taunted Sam, we came together in the hotel bed with enough force and need to make sure that should I choose to mention it during my next confession or Bucky during his - the priest would no doubt want to have a moment with his own confessor. 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 192

192

    Holding Keith’s hand in public felt nice. Walking from the hotel to the restaurant, Lance found himself watching families of all types as they walked. He couldn’t help it. A smile coming to his lips as he watched kids nag their parents, or listened to them as they played. His hand sitting on his stomach while his mind substituted the kids for their twins, and the parents as Keith. Keith would be such a good dad. He absolutely knew that for certain. He’d worried when Keith had spent most of the night sleepless, the walk seeming to invigorate him as it wore away Keith’s energy. Keith needed his coffee pronto, lest a server cop his boyfriend’s uncaffeinated anger loaf rage.

  Leading Keith into the restaurant, it had a kind of rustic charm. Heavy oak logs made the walls, with all kinds of memorabilia stuck to the walls, including a giant stuffed fish with a plaque that red “Billy Bass”. It appealed to his tacky side in all the right ways. Sending Keith to find a seat, his boyfriend slouched off to throw himself into the only available booth. Lance giving a shake of his head affectionately. He really loved that cranky werewolf. Waddling over to the counter, he forced himself to remember to look and act like a girl. Keith didn’t know he was terrified of the same kind of comments made at the petting zoo being repeated. This trip had to go as well and as smoothly as it could. Picking up the menu, he knew instantly he wanted more than pancakes. Everything smelt vaguely appealing, and Keith would eat like there was no tomorrow.

  “What can I do you for, darling?”

Jumping at being unexpectedly talked to, the woman behind the counter cackled at him

“Sorry, love! I didn’t think you’d be lost in thought over a menu”

Lance flashed a smile, careful of his teeth. He kind of wished he’d worn a set of glasses. The more he stood in the restaurant, the more he heard and the bigger the world suddenly seemed to be

“Sorry, everything sounds so good I’m not sure where to begin”

The woman chuckled

“I remember those feelings. How many you got in there?”

“Two. I guess I do look pretty big”

“And carrying low, you’ll be in labour no time, love. Now. What do think?”

No. Nope. No labour for him. Not unless he was comfortably set up at VOLTRON... he’d hold his legs together for as long as possible if their twins dared to think of coming this soon

“I think I’m famished. Can I please order two sets of pancakes and two sets of the bacon breakfasts? Ooooh, and I’ll grab a fruit salad, two of the largest coffees you have, aaaand... I think I’ll have a green tea latte... and a fruit salad. Yeah, that’s all, thank you... oh! Do you guys have soy milk? I don’t want to gas my boyfriend”

  The woman behind the counter ogled him fo a moment, shaking her head and laughing again

“I don’t know where you’re going to fit all that... We have soy, almond, and regular. None of that skin stuff”

Lance blushed. He couldn’t help that he didn’t exactly know what he felt like, but food seemed like an amazing idea

“It’s for me and my partner. Soy will be fine, thanks”

The woman slapped his arm gently with the back of her hand

“I know that, love. Just an old woman teasing”

“You don’t look that old”

She looked about the age he should look... her name tag reading “Dae”, the white tag almost lost in the red of her bright red shirt

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Now, darling, cash or card?”

“Card please”

  The woman rang up there largish breakfast bill. Lance paying as he was trapped into small talk

“So, love. Are you here for our Easter markets? Or you one of those passing through?”

“Oh, my boyfriend and I are spending a few days here. We’re meeting up with some friends”

The woman printed him a receipt without him asking

“I’m sure you’ll find this quite boring compared with the cities around here, but we have own charm. Now, can I get a name for this order?”

He’d been prepared for that. He’d made kind of a mental story for himself. He and his photographer boyfriend were driving up, stopping in small towns as Keith built up a portfolio in the hopes of turning to selling prints online

“Lancella... my, uh, parents were hoping for a boy”

“I’m sure they love you at any rate. We can’t help our names. You go take a load off and I’ll bring your coffee over. Take my advice, love, take a look at the markets while you’re here. They really are something else”

“Awesome. We might just take your advice. Thank you”

    Siding, barely, into the booth opposite Keith, Keith was glaring at the menu in his hands. Tugging it free, his boyfriend huffed as Lance set the menu back into its holder

“Your coffee’s coming”

“Good”

Keith should have perked up at the thought of coffee. The scent was strong enough that Lance’s stomach was threatening to turn traitor right there at the booth

“Babe?”

“It’s nothing. You looked like you were having a good conversation, Lancella”

Lance rolled his eyes at the name

“I’m a simple man. The best lies have a kernel of truth in them”

“It pisses me off that you have to lie. You’re you. If people don’t like that, they can go play in traffic”

  There was his grumpy little anger loaf. He’d also realised something that was likely to make Keith grumpier

“You can’t just put them in traffic. You know, we’re going to be in trouble”

Keith sighed deeply

“What for now?”

“I’m starving... and all that food has to come back up. Plus, apparently I’m going to pop soon”

Scowling at him, Keith sat back and crossed his arms. His voice firm and joke free

“There’s no way you’re allowed to even think about giving birth in this crappy town. Don’t even think about going into labour”

Sometimes it was scary how in tune they were. He didn’t want to give birth here, yet he couldn’t hate this town

“I don’t know. This town isn’t that crappy. This is the town you were born in and you’re not crappy. Maybe crabby... but not crappy”

“You’re fucking hilarious”

Lance shot his boyfriend double finger guns

“I try. But seriously, I’m starving...”

  He’d also forgotten to do his shots before leaving the hotel room. Keith coming out with the bath mat around his waist had driven away the thought. His boyfriend hadn’t questioned why he’d packed heavier than usual. There was a whole suitcase of towels and bedding, waiting to be unpacked. His new plan was that after breakfast they’d unpack a little more, and he’d look up the directions to the cemetery where Keith’s dad was buried. The vampire knew his own pain from having now lost both his parents, yet that was nothing compared to Keith losing his dad at such a young age. Making the comparison seemed really shitty and like it lorded the fact Lance had had his parents for so long, that’s why he’d never say it out loud.

  Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the coffee and the latte. Keith sliding both mugs towards him as Lance thanked “Dae”. Wrapping his hands around his cold drink, there was kind of a happy peacefulness as Keith took his first sip of coffee. This was nice. Them having no real schedule. Not rushing around. Kind of on a date, but not at the same time...

“Stop staring”

Chuckling, Lance moved his hand up to take the straw between his fingers, stirring his latte as continued to stare

“What are you going to do if I don’t?”

Kicking him under the table, that was Keith’s great comeback

“Really, babe?”

“Fuck you. Fight me”

  It’d be soon long since he’d heard that one. The second they found out he was carrying, he had to behave himself and training went out the window

“I could beat you, but we both know you’d liked it”

Delivering the words slowly and purposely, Lance succeeded in making Keith choke on his coffee. Placing the mug down, his boyfriend coughed into his hand

“Fuuuuck...”

“Still want to fight me?”

“Keep this up and I’ll beat your arse so hard you won’t be able to walk for a month”

“Do you promise?”

On the back of choking on his coffee, Keith choked on air. His hand fanning his face as he shook his head

“You deserve to be punched in the dick for that”

“Nah. You love me too much for that”

“God. I fucked that one up”

  Lance knew Keith was teasing, yet he felt himself automatically tear up. Apparently he could dish it, but his ego was too much of a diva to take it. Dropping his gaze to his drink, he felt awful for how he’d reacted

“Babe?”

“It’s nothing”

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I guess my hormones are being silly. It’s ridiculous”

Keith wisely decided not to agree with him, changing the topic

“What did you order?”

Raising his head again, Lance shot him that fake smile that hadn’t come out in so long that he wasn’t sure he was doing it right

“Pancakes. Eggs, tomatoes, bacon, sausages, and fried onion. Coffee for you. Tea for me, and fruit salad”

“You think that’s enough?”

Now he was feeling self conscious over how much he wanted to scarf down his food

“I figured you’d eat what I didn’t...”

Keith playfully kicked him under the table again

“Great. Now I’m the garbage disposal unit”

  Shit. Why had his mood plummeted so much? Now it had, his ego was getting riled up. He was starting to feel vulnerable over being pregnant and into a strange place, where people he didn’t know could easily target him, or Keith. He couldn’t scent anyone like them in the place, yet he’d been so care free when they’d come in, he hadn’t thought to. The sudden shift to extreme vulnerability by his ego threw him off. They were a goddamn vampire. Had he been so inclined, he could easily take every single human on in the restaurant... Why was he suddenly so spineless? And why was his ego not propping his mood up with its usual douche attitude.

  “Babe, you’ve gone pale. And you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

He was shaking? He hadn’t noticed...

“Sorry. My ego... just went funny...”

Keith stared at him in confusion

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know...”

He didn’t know. Was it not sure keith could protect them? No. Keith could and would go beyond them. Then why did it want him to run? All he wanted was a nice breakfast with Keith, so Keith wouldn’t be so stressed about what was to come...

  Leaning across the table, Keith’s confusion grew. Cocking his head, he drew back slowly

“You feel like... you’re pushing everything away. If there’s something wrong...”

“I don’t know what’s wrong. I’m sorry”

Trying to let his ego flare a little, the instinct to run grew with it. Lance quick to force it back down. Maybe he’d been too focused on being home of late? No one had made any kind of threat towards him

“If you’re not feeling well, we can go back to the room”

“That’s not it. All of a sudden I got a spike of fear and I’m not sure why”

  Keith pursed his lips, shook his head, then suddenly decided to move to sit next to Lance, a little too fast for Lance’s liking. Taking his hand in his, his boyfriend squeezed softly

“You don’t need to be scared”

Having Keith close should have calmed him, yet the spike of fear had spiked his anxiety over not knowing why he was kind of internally freaking out  

“I know. All I wanted was a nice breakfast”

“We can still have a nice breakfast...”

“I’m so sorry. I know you’re stressing badly. This has to be so much all at once”

The restaurant was loud, despite it being breakfast time. Too many people seemed way too awake

“The glasses help. Do you want them?”

  Yes. And ear plugs. Someone dropped something in the kitchen, Lance flinching at the sound as he shook his head

“No. No... it’s okay. I’ve been doing this longer than you have”

“Are you sure?”

“Babe, I’ll be okay. It’s just weird... I don’t smell anything... bad. Maybe I’ve spent too much time hermitting”

“Or maybe people just suck?”

“Careful, babe. Your grump’s showing”

Keith huffed with a pout

“I’m not being grumpy”

“Fine, your lack of people love is showing. I hope breakfast doesn’t take too long”

“You need to eat more. You’re all skin and bones”

Lance’s ego chose to take the wrong way. He ate. Keith knew he ate. He couldn’t bring Keith’s mood down any further

“I’m going to. Your babies are demanding it”

  Bring their hands to Lance’s stomach, Keith rested them there

“Already causing so much trouble. You two better give your dad a break”

“That’d be nice. I think the first thing they’re getting when they’re old enough is a trampoline”

“Why do I feel like you’re the one who’s going to be spending more time on it than them?”

“Because it’s nice to lay out under the stars?”

They hadn’t done that in so long... Maybe they’d get a chance while they were here?

“I wonder what sex would be like?”

And there Keith went stating the real reason he supported getting their kids a trampoline

“I’m not conceiving any future siblings on a trampoline”

Keith bumped his shoulder lightly

“There goes that idea...”

“I’m going to put you in a time out if you don’t get your mind out of the gutter”

“But without the gutter, my mind would be homeless”

  Without missing a beat, the werewolf had him groaning

“Who taught you that one? They need to be shot”

Keith grinned, Lance kind of envious that no matter how upset Keith was internally, he was keeping his ego well under control. He should be proud. No. He was proud. He just wished his would perk back up

“Pretty sure I learned that from you”

Great. He couldn’t exactly shoot himself... though he’d definitely shot himself in the foot in the metaphoric sense

“You don’t want to listen to me. I’m going crazy in my old age”

“You’re not even that old”

“Older than you”

  Keith put on that bad southern drawl that never failed to work on him

“And twice as pretty. A pretty little thing like you should be careful. A big bad wolf might just gobble you up”

“Nah, my boyfriend takes care of all the scary things out there”

“I could take him. They don’t call me the Mullet for nothin’”

Oh lord. That was terrible. That was terrible and Keith knew it was terrible

“Is it because you’re kinda fishy? A bit limp all dead eyed?”

“Why, miss. I’ve been told I’ve got the perdiest eyes around”

Lance let out a long groan of defeat. He didn’t feel safe, and as much as he didn’t want to feel amused, Keith’s stupidity was kind of turning his frown upside down

“Alright. No more. I get it”

“Do you feel any better?”

No...

“Yeah. I’m still staving, though”

“It won’t be too much longer... hopefully”

   *

Keith kept a careful eye on Lance once their breakfast finally arrived. Lance noticing, and responding by eating despite the lack of interest in the pancakes he’d wanted. It was hard to pretend to be happy. Everything felt too much for him, and having it all feel too much for Lance threw him.

  Holding it together, the walk back to the hotel was brisk. Lance tried to shake him off to go to the bathroom alone, but Keith wasn’t having it. As Lance “threw” himself down to vomit, he slipped behind him, tugging off the annoying wig so he could rest his chin on Lance’s shoulder. His boyfriend was shaking, his skin felt a little colder than its above barely warm natural state. Having played breakfast over in his mind, he still didn’t know why Lance had spooked, or why his ego had drawn in. The only thing he could think of was that that woman’s words brought up Lance’s fear of giving birth soon. No one had said anything to his precious mate. No one had barely looked their way. No. Everyone else was too busy fucking chewing like a herd of cows. The noise infuriating now he’d noticed.

  Staying with Lance until his stomach settled, his boyfriend wobbled on his feet as he stood. Keith had spent the time giving Lance belly rubs and trying smother him in his scent to calm him down. His own ego was rattled by their mates strange actions, making it almost mad at a situation where no one was to blame. Rinsing his mouth out, Lance stared at him in the mirror. He looked exhausted

“I’m sorry”

No. Lance had nothing to be sorry for

“Babe. Hey, it happens”

“I’m supposed to be the one in control here... and I freaked out for no real reason”

“It’s okay”

  Lance didn’t know he was semi echoing Keith’s earlier movement as he kicked the basin cabinet lightly

“No. No it’s not. You’re stressed. You’re in a new environment. You’re being forced to go out with me when I look like this. And I couldn’t even keep my shit together long enough to enjoy being out to breakfast with you. It’s fucking pathetic. I should be past all this shit”

“You’re overthinking things again”

Sighing deeply, Lance went to grab his toothbrush out the toilet bag, only to knock the contents out. Sensing the impending tears, he turned his boyfriend towards him, gathering him against him

“Babe. Hey. It’s okay. I’m not mad and you haven’t done anything wrong”

Lance shook his head again

“I’m sorry... God. I feel so fucking incompetent”

  Lance wasn’t incompetent. Keith ego saddened to hear their mate talk about himself like that. He wanted to make Lance smile again

“You’re not. Didn’t Dae say something about a fair?”

Again, Lance shook his head

“Sorry... I think I want to lay down for a bit... and I really need to pee. Can... can you get the blankets out the suitcase? They’re in the black one”

“And you’ll be okay?”

“I’m going to pee, then I’ll be out”

Kissing Lance’s hair, Keith found himself more anxious over Lance than the thought of seeing his father’s grave. Maybe Lance was more tired from the day before than he was letting on

“Alright. I’ll be waiting”

   When Lance came shuffling out the bathroom, he made straight for Keith. Keith having covered the top of the hotel bed with their three blankets, the bottom one acting as the sheet between them and the crappy bedding below. Lifting the corner back, his boyfriend climbed in beside him. Shoes and all. Lance had to be dead tired to not fight him over his shoes, which had kind of become part of Keith’s daily job. Laying himself against him, Lance rested his head on Keith’s chest, arm snaking around him. Somehow the feeling that came to mind was akin to missing that bottom step and terror flooring you for a moment as your stomach dropped. When Lance started crying, Keith could only let him cry it out. He’d gotten used to Lance having more emotions than he thought possible for a vampire. Lance’s motto seemed to be “sometimes you just need to cry it out”. Still. It sucked. They were so far from their friends. So far from home... and the hard bit was yet to come.

    *

Falling asleep Keith, Lance carefully pried himself off his boyfriend. He felt safer for being in the hotel room, and disoriented from how hard he’d seemed to nap. Creeping to the bathroom, then back into their room, Lance mentally sighed to himself over his emotions. He was being so dumb. Keith needed him... None of this... he couldn’t break down now. Taking his phone off the bedside table, the vampire crept back into the bathroom. He’d already talked to Keith, explaining that he didn’t get what was going on at all... Yet he wasn’t sure that Keith believed him. His people hating boyfriend had offered to take him to the markets on for Easter. That wasn’t Keith’s thing. That was Keith grasping at straws and trying to find a way to make him happy again.

  The call took a long time to answer, Krolia’s voice happy as Lance wondered if he was annoying her

“Hey, Lance! How are you?! Did you and Keith arrive safely, I swear that boy never thinks to let me know he’s okay”

They’d sent a message to group chat, and that was about it. With some small unpacking, they’d both been too tired for phone calls and any form of in-depth conversation

“Sorry, Krolia. Yeah, we got here okay. If this is a bad time, I can call back”

“No. Not at all. Is everything okay? I mean, I’m thrilled you called, but I’m confused as to why”

  That stung a little. He hadn’t spoken to Krolia all that much since Keith turned...

“I won’t keep you long. I have a question, and I think you’re about the only one who understands what it’s like to be pregnant”

He would have turned straight to Mami if she’d been alive. He felt like he really needed that maternal support right now. Hearing her voice would have driven home she was safe and she would have teased him for being hopeless

“Shoot away! Are my two grandbabies giving you grief already? I can have a stern talking to them, if they are”

   He wanted to reach through the phone and hug Krolia. Keith was absolutely amazing with him, yet he couldn’t fall pregnant. A small snort escaped without him meaning for it to

“They’re fine. Using my bladder as a trampoline and wriggling around in there. I... uh... I was wondering if when you were pregnant with Keith, if you ever felt... scared for no reason”

There was a pause. Lance grateful Krolia was taking the time to think about it

“Sometimes, yes. Especially in the line of work I do... Did something happen?”

So Krolia has only experienced fear when thinking of vampires and werewolves...

“We we’re having breakfast and all of a sudden I got scared. There was nothing there to be scared of. No one else who wasn’t human... but... I feel like I was too care free lately. I didn’t guard my scent. I didn’t think about what would happen had someone caught it. I didn’t think about bringing Keith here and what if there was someone like us here... I didn’t think about it... and I feel... like me not thinking about it is the same as me thinking Keith... is... something less than he was”

  Starting to cry, he felt really very stupid for his tears. He treasured Keith. But he’d been running around trailing his scent after him without a thought of the impact. All he’d wanted was to get things done and settle his ego

“Lance, you love that idiot son of mine. I’m sure at the first hint of danger you would have reacted. Is Keith there with you?”

“He’s asleep... I’m sorry for calling... I would have turned to Mami, but...”

“No. No. I’m glad you called. I want to be there for the both of you. Yes, I was scared. But nothing like Keith’s father. The slightest thing and he wanted to rush me off to the emergency department. You’re under a lot of stress. Have you been...?”

Lance shook his head, then remember Krolia couldn’t see him shaking his head

“Not yet. I freaked out and Keith had to take care of me...”

“You’re nearing the end of the pregnancy. Fears happen. I know that all too well. Especially how the insomnia can play on your mind. You’ve both been through so much, and I heard from Curtis that you were looking forward to some alone time with Keith. My opinion is that you let Keith take care of you. He’s strong”

“He’s not that strong when it comes to his dad”

“No, but keeping it in will only make him worry more. He loves you. If anything were to happen to you... well, I feel sorry for whoever crosses you. I believe both of you would sense actual danger”

“How am I supposed to know the difference?!”

“You’ll know. Take these feeling of fear and ignore them. Push them aside. They’re useless. Focus on you and my grand babies. You should be safe there. Coran didn’t mention anything about anyone living there that you should be wary about”

Lance sniffled. Krolia hadn’t given him much of anything useful and it sucked... but she tried in her own way

“Thanks, Krolia. I’m going to go back to Keith now”

“No worries. Let me know how everything goes. You can call me. Anything you two need...”

“Yeah. I will. I... thanks for talking to me...”

“Anytime. I’m your mother too. You can come to me”

  Coming out the bathroom, Keith was awake, meaning he’d heard some, if not all, Lance’s side of the phone call. Stopping a few steps into the room, he expected Keith to be angry at him for admitting he hadn’t thought of his precious boyfriend’s safety. He hadn’t thought of anything much when it came to the more important things he should have been almost paranoid about

“Babe... come here”

Holding his arm out, Lance caved instantly as he moved to climb into bed with Keith, his emotions getting the better of him as he started crying again. Krolia wasn’t Mami. She didn’t give advice like Mami did. The vampire craving that maternal touch, that Krolia had only taken the point off of

“That’s it. I’m here... I’m here, let it all out”

“I’m sorry”

Keith gentle ran his fingers through Lance’s hair, hushing him softly

“Shhhh... I’ve got you. I’m okay and you’re okay. It’s okay”

“I miss Mami”

“I know you do, babe. I know. Let it out... let it all out”

  He was such a selfish boyfriend, yet Keith loved him anyway. He didn’t deserve the love he felt from Keith, but he did notice that together like this, the fear had mostly gone away. There really was no substitute for cuddles with Keith.

[ejzah]

Can you do a fanfic where Kensi is forced to work together with an old NCIS rival and she is furthered annoyed when she begins making moves on Deeks despite them being married.

“Did Hetty say who we’re meeting?” Deeks asked as he and Kensi walked into a five star hotel. They were supposed to meet Hetty, along with some other agent who they would be working with on an undercover case. Deeks would be going under as a high stakes lawyer, while Kensi played his assistant.

She knew he was looking forward to this case. It wasn’t supposed to be terribly dangerous and they would spend the majority of the time together. All while staying in a $700 a night hotel.

“No, but she said she’s in high demand at several agencies,” Kensi answered as they took an elevator to suite 317. She glanced over at Deeks; he wore a black suit with a light blue shirt and a black tie. Hetty had certainly outdone herself this time. Kensi let her eyes drift down to his impeccably tailored trousers, which clung to his legs. “Your tie’s crooked.”

He turned, giving her better access and she straightened it, letting her fingers linger at his collar. “Mm, much better,” she murmured.

“Sugar Bear, if you keep looking at me like that, our new colleague is going to figure out why no one wants to share a room with us,” he said, grinning shamelessly at her. He was doing his own share of ogling.

“That would be very unprofessional, Mr. Deeks. Especially since I’m your employee.” Kensi shot him a coy look, wondering if she could convince Hetty to loan them their outfits after the case was over.

Deeks wiggled his eyebrows at her while he stuck the keycard Hetty gave them in the locking mechanism to room 317. He gave a perfunctory knock before opening the door.

Hetty was sitting in a small living room across from another woman who had her back to them. All Kensi could see was the leg of a charcoal gray pant leg and red hair. Hetty waved them in and stood.

“Ah, I’m glad you’re here,” she said, gesturing for the other agent to stand. “Special Agent Mallory Weaver, this is Detective Marty Deeks and-“

“Kensi Blye,” she interrupted as Kensi smiled tightly, recognizing the other woman as well.

“You know each other?” Deeks asked.

“Oh we go way back,” Mallory said. “Kensi and I attended FLETC together. We were always neck and neck, weren’t we?” She tilted her head slightly, looking Kensi up and down in a way that made her feel distinctly uncomfortable.

The Mallory Kensi remembered had blonde hair and spent 80% of her time in agency provided workout gear. Despite the differences in appearance, she still carried herself with the same aloofness and self-assuredness Kensi remembered. She was also impeccably dressed; her blazer and pants didn’t have a single crease and would have passed even Hetty’s stringent expectations.

“We might have been a little competitive,” Kensi acknowledged. “But that was a long time ago.”

“Yes, it was.” She turned to Deeks then, her expression calculating. “Did Hetty say you were a detective?”

“Yeah, I’m the team’s LAPD liaison,” he replied, reaching to shake her hand. “Nice to me you, Agent Weaver.”

“And a former lawyer,” Hetty added, bringing the introductions to an end. “Which is why he is perfect for this operation.”

“Well, then let me catch you up on the what our goal is for today,” Mallory said, taking charge.

***

“So, how long have you and Deeks been working together?” Mallory asked as they prepared the technology they’d be using for the operation. Hetty had left a few minutes before and Deeks was in the master bedroom making a call.

“Over 10 years,” Kensi answered, a little surprised that Mallory was showing an interest. From past experience, she tended to be singled minded.

“Wow, that’s quite a commitment.” They were silent for another minute and then she asked, “Is he in a relationship? I don’t usually prefer men with long hair, but the way he fills out a suit...I’m willing to look past it.”

“Actually, he’s married.” Kensi only imagine Deeks’ expression if he knew Mallory was interested in him.

“Really? I didn’t see a ring. Maybe he’s not as committed as you think.” Mallory smirked at that and Kensi felt her annoyance rising.

“We don’t wear our rings on the job,” Kensi said, emphasizing the word “our”. Just in case she missed the hint, Kensi gave her a pointed look.

Mallory raised her perfect eyebrows and then laughed incredulously.

“You and Deeks are married?” she asked, with an insulting amount of disbelief. “Wow, I did not see that coming. I remember you were the girl who couldn’t make it past one date with a guy.”

“Well, like we said, that was a long time ago. I’m sure we’re both very different women than we were back then.”

“That seems pretty obvious. I always imagined you doing more with yourself than this, but I guess some people are willing to settle.”

Kensi held back a nasty comment, knowing it would only encourage Mallory.

***

“Marty, what made you switch from lawyer to cop?” Kensi heard Mallory asking Deeks as she came out of one of the massive suites.

“I was working as a public defender and got sick of watching criminals go free,” Deeks explained, shrugging self-deprecatingly. “And then a few years later, Hetty snapped me up.”

Kensi walked into the room, quietly gathering a comm device she would need later when they met their contact. Deeks was reviewing the details of the fake portfolio Eric and Nell had set up for him. He’d pushed the couch and armchairs in the living room to the side and moved the small dining table to the middle of the room. Mallory say next to him, peering over his shoulder, a little closer than Kensi would have liked.

“Yes, as LAPD Liaison.” Somehow Mallory managed to make it sound laughable. “You should consider joining my team.” From her peripheral vision, Kensi saw her touch Deeks’ arm, lingering on his bicep.

“I didn’t realize you had a team.” It was a non-committal statement, neither expressing interest or a direct refusal. Mallory made a negligent sound.

“Oh, I’ve been toying with the idea of forming one. We should talk about it over dinner sometime,” she continued. She leaned closer, adding, “I know this fantastic place that makes the most delicious tiramisu.”

“Well, that sounds lovely,” Deeks said. “But I’m pretty busy.”

“You should take some time off. Everyone needs a break.” Kensi watched her hand drop to his thigh and squeeze. “You could even stay at my condo on the beach.” Deeks made a sound that was something between a cough and a laugh.

Unable to take it any longer, Kensi turned around and headed back into the the bedroom. There was a small terrace that looked out on the beach and she slammed the sliding door open, not even caring if Mallory heard. Or what she thought.

Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes, clamping her fingers around the wrought iron railing. The metal biting into her fingers was oddly grounding. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before the door slid open again.

“So, uh, you ok?” Deeks asked. She opened her eyes, resisting the urge to snap at him. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I’m fine.” He came closer, leaning with his back against the railing.

“Yeah, you know I’m not buying that.” He waited for her to respond and when she didn’t, he nudged her knee with his. “You want to tell me what’s going on with you and Agent Weaver?”

“You mean aside from her hitting on you and pawing your thigh?” she bit out, surprised he needed to ask.

“You know I don’t like it and would never do anything to encourage her,” he said. He actually looked worried and she rolled her eyes, turning to face him.

“Of course I do. I trust you completely.”

“Then what’s the problem? Women hit on me pretty frequently and you don’t get this upset.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Kensi sarcastically. “Maybe the fact that she knows we’re married and still tried to get you to come to her condo on the beach? While I was standing right there. She didn’t even have the decency to wait until I was out of the room.” She felt a little petty for saying it, but couldn’t seem to stop.

“Ever since we were in training together, she’s tried to one up me. You and this case are just another chance to prove that she’s superior.”

“Hey,” Deeks said, tipping her chin up. “You do not need to prove yourself to this woman or anyone else.”

“She makes me feel inadequate,” she admitted quietly. Deeks made a noise in the back of his throat and gathered her against his chest.

“Kensi Marie Blye, you are an amazing woman in so many ways. Your intelligence and strength and compassion astound me every day. And there’s a thousand other things I could say about you, but then we’d be here all night.”

Her throat tightened a little with emotion at the love and truth she heard in Deeks’ words. He pulled back, cupping her face between his palms.

“You are perfect exactly as you are,” he added. “Don’t let some woman who doesn’t know you and hasn’t seen you in a decade make you think otherwise.”

“Thank you, baby,” she murmured, leaning her forehead against his. They stayed that way for a minute until she sighed. They would need to go back inside soon. “She just knows how to push all my buttons.”

“Hey, of she says anything else rude, I’ll beat her up,” Deeks promised. She snorted at that, patting his chest.

“Babe, you would never beat up a woman.”

“That’s true, but I can make nasty faces at her while you take her down.”

“You are so ridiculous,” she sighed. “But you always know just what to say to make me feel better.”

“That’s my job,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

***

A/N: Thanks for the prompt! I hope this came off alright without making Kensi seem petty or something.

[thotsforvillainrights]

~Job Hunting~

Au: Roommates

Part: Three

Theme: general

As usual the day started with a loud knock at your door before Magne burst inside. You groaned and fastened the blanket over your head, gripping it as tightly as possible in case she decided to yank it off. No, Magne was going to take the better approach to the situation. She moved to open your room curtains and light instantly flooded the room. It was ineffective against the forcefield of your blanket though. You had hoped she’d leave you be, but nooooo...

She just had to call in the big guns.

“Alright Toga, plan B! She/He/They won’t get up!” By the time she said that, it was too late to raise your white flag of surrender. “OOOF!” You huffed when the sudden slamming weight jumped on top of your body. “Jesus Toga, get the hell off me!!!” Himiko just giggled and began to tickle you until you jolted out of bed yourself. “Good job!” Magne praised her and she smiled widely. “Alright, now that you’re up Y/N, we gotta get our asses on top of this job hunting or else we’ll all be moving out faster than we moved in.” Magne spoke seriously and you nodded. She was right after all. You guys had your fun already. The moving process was over, you already had dinner at multiple places on this side of town, and you threw an absolute rager of a housewarming party last weekend. Now it was time to get serious and do adult stuff. You sighed and went to get ready for the day ahead. Once finished, both the girls were already in the car munching on toast. “We can stop somewhere and get lunch after a while if that’s okay.” Magne asked you and you nodded. “Alright! We’ve used all our connections and rounded up the places for our best possible options! First stop on the list is just a few blocks away!” Magne informed excitedly before pulling out of the parking spaces and heading towards the first destination:

The tattoo shop where Dabi worked as Assistant Manager.

The bell that hung above the door dinged as the three of you entered the shop (resume’s in hand) and approached the desk where Dabi sat. He sighed and placed the flash sheet away to look up at you 3. “Alright, you actually were being serious about the whole job thing?” He sighed in annoyance and Magne gasped. “Uhm yeah!? I wasn’t kidding around when I said that to you the other day!” Dabi pinched the skin on the bridge of his nose and looked back up at everyone. “I wanna first off start by saying, you need to have some sort of skill to do this. The art, AND the steadiness of your hands as well. Oh and you have to have a relationship with blood.” When he said this, Toga gasped excitedly. “Ugh, a GOOD relationship with it.” Dabi added and Toga frowned, turning to walk out of the shop in defeat. “How are the hours? Can I request a lot of days off in case I have to get a second job?” Magne asked curiously and Dabi just burst out into laughter. “You’re a fucking hilarious chick!!!” He laughed at her (even as she turned to walk out of the shop too). “Then I guess that just leaves you huh?” He smirked at you mischievously. “Do you wanna try for it?” He asked, quickly yanking your resume from your hands and giving it a look over. “Wow, you’re pretty impressive but I’ll be honest with you...” He handed your resume back. “We really don’t give a shit about what grade you graduated with in college algebra. Come back with a portfolio of your artwork and then you’ll be in business. If you think you’re interested in it of course.” Dabi winked and got back to work. “Oh okay, thank you.” You spoke quietly and quickly headed out the door. “So how is it for you? Did we land it?” Magne and Toga looked at you expectedly. “Honestly I probably did if I wanted to work there, but I don’t think I have enough time to put together an entire portfolio before our first rent is due. On top of that, I have to spend money on my own equipment and the apprentice thing doesn’t pay until I get my tattoo license. In all reality, this seems like a long term process. Let’s just check out the next spot please?” Magne nodded and drove off to the next place:

The Plus Ultra Tech Store where Spinner works.

The three of you entered the store and you smiled when you noticed Spinner behind the counter tinkering with an old keyboard. He looked up and directly at you as a blush started on his cheeks. “H-hey Y/N.” You smiled lightly and opened your mouth to greet him back but Toga spoke up first. “Spin Spin!!! I came to see if you had an open position or two orrrr three???” She approached the counter and excitedly slapped her palms down. “Okay whoa hey! First of all please quiet down, and second of all don’t call me Spin Spin. Anyway, gimme your Resumes.” Spinner took each of them and looked them over thoroughly (which took a bit so Toga and Magne went to look through the store). He sighed when he finished and looked over at you. “You guys have pretty darn good credentials but that’s not gonna play too much of a part here. Hey guys! Can you come over here real quick?” Spinner called out to them and the two of them made it to the desk fast af. “Okay, I really don’t wanna hurt you guys feelings but I’m gonna be frank here: Do any of you know how to fix technology?” Spinner was met with silence and confused expressions. “Uh...okay. Well do any of you have extensive knowledge on movies, tech, or video games slash consoles?” Spinner was once again met with silence. “DO ANY OF YOU KNOW HOW TO SET UP A CELL PHONE AND ARE YOU OKAY WITH DOING IT FOR MOST OF THE DAY?” 

“Oh I can!!!”

“Alright you’re hired then.” Spinner sighed and took Toga’s resume. “I can try to ask my manager to open up some more positions for you two if you want. I really don’t wanna leave you out and-” You gently placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. “It’s alright Shuichi, don’t worry! Just hiring Toga has helped us a ton. Now all we have to do is focus on Mags and I, and we’ll just be A-OK.” You winked at him and pat his shoulder, watching him look away quickly as he tried to hide that cute blush of his. You and Magne headed back to the car and waited for Toga to finish up the impromptu interview/hiring process. Finally she burst out of the store doorway and skipped back to the car happily with a folded uniform in her arms. “We did it!!!!” She shouted happily once she got into the back seat. You laughed and Magne playfully rolled her eyes. “No you did it, crazy. Me and Y/N still got at least 3 more places to head to. Next stop is:

The University Shigaraki attends.

Once you guys made it there, Magne texted real quick and Shigaraki approached the car car 5 minutes later. He knocked on the driver window and Magne rolled it down. “A Sorento...really? I honestly saw you driving a bug or a smart car.” Tomura played with the door interior and Magne slapped his hand away. “Excuse you, Mr. California Raisin but my Mom gave me this car and it’s fully payed off. AND it’s a 2018, so let’s see you do better hmm?”

“I drive a 2019 Prius.”

“A Prius and you???” Magne burst into laugher and Toga giggled from the back seat. “Get the fuck out of the stupid Sorento and let’s go. I don’t have time to waste. My next class is in like 40 minutes and I still gotta get some lunch to eat.” Tomura grumbled as your crew made it out of the car. You all trekked near Tomura across the campus while he pulled out his map and argued with Magne the quickest routes to places. “Listen here you ashy bitch, I’m telling you if we cross over in FRONT of the cafeteria then we can make it to the biology building faster than if we took that sidewalk by the financial aid office.” She tapped the paper furiously and Tomura growled. “No you listen Mop headed slut, I go to school here so it’s ME that knows where we’re supposed to be. I have TWO teachers to introduce to you and Y/N each and it’s gonna take me a bit to get there so let me do it my way.” He grumbled back at her and she snatched the map. Toga leaned over to whisper in your ear as you two continued to walk behind them. “Those two argue like a married couple. 20 bucks says they’ll be dating by Christmas of this year.” You quietly laughed and pushed her to the side. “Shut it Himiko, or they’ll both kill us!” Suddenly the whole group stopped walking as two familiar faces approached. “Hey, what are you guys doing on campus? I thought you all graduated college already last year or whatever.” Hari spoke with a welcoming smile as Kai stood next to him. “Good evening you three. Thank you for inviting us to that party last week. It was nice to not focus on schoolwork for a moment of two.” Kai added peacefully. “Oh not biggie really! And we’re here because me and Y/N have to go see two teachers here for a possible position as a secretary, or teachers assistant. Tomura’s dumbass is failing as our lead to them though.” Magne and Shigaraki glared at each other for a moment. 

“Well Kai just got out for the day and my next class isn’t till later tonight since I’m taking mainly night classes and all. Why don’t I take Magne to the first teacher, and Kai can take Y/N. That way you can go eat or whatever Tomura. Besides, I owe you after you helped me with the programming homework I had before I changed my major last semester.” Hari explained and Magne squealed. “Oh such a gentleman, say less!” She grabbed Hari’s arm and he laughed nervously before she pulled him along, following the map and chatting as if they’d known each other forever. Tomura explained where to find the other teacher and then he left eagerly towards the cafeteria with Toga tagging along (because she genuinely wanted to see what the food was like here). “Thanks again for leading me there. I know you’d probably have places you’d rather be huh.” You spoke up and Kai laughed slightly. “Oh no, think nothing of it. Any escape I get from having to focus on this work all the time is perfect for me. Besides, I feel like we should get to know each other since we only just met through Shigaraki’s invite to your housewarming. You seem like an interesting person with a charming personality and a stunning face...I mean as if that has anything to do with it.” He cleared his throat and looked forward. “Wow, that was a terrible save.” You teased him, hinting at his little compliment he threw in there. “Anyway Kai, what are you going to graduate in? Like your major and all.” 

“Biological Sciences and Pre-Med. After that, I gotta head to Med school 2 cities away from here.”

“Wow, off to do great things huh? I’m kinda sad knowing that now haha. Seems like we don’t have much time to get to know each other after the next few semesters and all.”

“Oh well I wouldn’t put it that way. After all, we still have phones. And when I’m passing through to visit family on holidays, I’ll be sure to drop in and see you...and everyone else haha.”

“Wow, another bad save.” You continued to tease him and he laughed it off. You guys seemed to make it to your destination in no time. Kai was kind enough to wait around outside while you chatted in the building with the English teacher. When you came out he looked at you with worry apparent on his face. “Did it go well?” You immediately shed your fake somber expression and smiled widely. “I don’t know, but you’ll just have to ask me that when I clock in next week!!!!” You jumped up and down excitedly. “Hey that’s great! Let’s go out to celebrate with coffee or something eventually.” You smiled and nodded. It didn’t take too much longer to get back home with Toga and Magne. Turns out Magne failed the interview pretty bad but luckily she made it into a pretty cushy job with Twice and Hawks at the store in the Mall she really loved (just think Spencers pls). “Well I’d say we achieved our goals for today so let’s go blow the rest of our cash on a crap ton of junk food and binge watch Netflix at the house!” Magne cheered on the way home as you and Toga joined her. Hopefully this job would last long, and hopefully it would bring you some peace at mind when it comes to financial stability because after all...

you still needed to save money for a car👀

(but that’s a story for another time)

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

Instagram: @pastelbattydraws & @pastelbattystore

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRNMJH7vHL7APNobUykhK4w?view_as=subscriber

[withabackpackandcamera]

July 4th, 2021 Day 9: Ending Our Last Full Day With A VERY Full Day Indeed

We arrived at the streetside parking lot for Geldingadalsgos (based on what I found out from Jeroen, the vent that I was taking photos of isn’t the volcano volcano, but more so a vent of a bigger volcano system; therefore, the vent itself doesn’t have a name, the eruption is called Geldingadalsgos, and the volcanic system is Fagradalsfjall Volcanic System. So, 60 Minutes named it wrong… lol) around 12:15am or so, at which time there were probably somewhere between 20-30 other cars parked. Yup, we didn’t even start hiking until after midnight. Indeed, we were a bit crazy and so was everyone else out there at an ungodly hour. Anyhow, because I got a little bit of rest in the car thanks to Minh’s driving, I was ready to go and see this volcano again.

Unlike the first trip to the volcano on our first day here in Iceland a week ago, this trip was much nicer despite the time of day we hiked. Instead of clear skies with heavy midday sunlight, we arrived as the sun was setting in the colorful orange and pink sky. The skies were darker than expected but the night itself teased us but never actually came in full force. The wind today was calm and collected compared to the violent winds the guys in the group endured last week. And the hike up the mountain was much smoother and easier than the first time up, likely because the authorities had done some fixing up, de-graveling, and repaving of different routes to make it safer for hikers. With conditions being great for hiking (and because I had emptied my camera bag of nonessentials), I made it up the mountainside in about 50 minutes or so, which was much faster than the first time. Cynthia and Minh slowly made their way up behind me since I was rushing to get to the top and they weren’t really into rushing.

Once at the top, I scurried across the ridge and to the same area that I had already hiked to last week, hoping for a good vantage point for some volcano photography. Most of the conditions were great for photography on this early, early morning. The skies were beautifully colored. The weather wasn’t too cold or windy. And the volcano was a little more active today compared to last Saturday. But the conditions weren’t perfect because we were still far from the volcano, the volcano wasn’t spewing out enough lava to make lava rivers that we could see from where we were, and the darkness of the lava field and volcano made it hard to take great landscape photos without the contrasting colors of lava rivers. But I guess that when you’re traveling on a tight schedule and you’re looking to photograph natural phenomena like erupting volcanoes and vents, you just have to make do with the photography conditions you’re presented with and live with the result.

So I just took out my camera and started taking photo after photo after photo of the vent spewing lava. I attempted to take portraits and action shots of the volcano and its activity as well as landscape shots of the volcano in relation to its beautiful surroundings and the gorgeously colorful sky above. I moved to a couple of different spots to try and find different perspectives from which to shoot from but ended up spending most of my time at one location where Cynthia had found a spot to sit and chill.

Throughout our time there, I tried my best to look for Jeroen, the photographer I was communicating with on Instagram. When I had contacted him earlier in the evening to help assess the volcano situation for the evening, he told me that he too was headed to the volcano and that if we spot each other, we should definitely say hi. But unfortunately, I never did catch him there. I later found out that he had hiked way past the point where I had stopped and had made his way over the mountain ridge and to the backside of the valley and lava field, where he discovered lava in action. He found a place to see lava (relatively) close up! So jealous! And that’s the problem with attempting landscape photography on a short schedule… You just don’t have enough time or energy to roam around and scope out areas after a packed trip full of sleep-deprived days. How I wish we could’ve had another whole week in Iceland just to hang out in Reykjavik and follow the volcano live stream until we found the opportunity to leisurely make our way over to photograph the volcano when its activity increases.

We stayed at Geldingadalsgos for quite some time and didn’t actually start heading back to the car until close to 4:00am. Minh and Cynthia went on ahead as I took some time for my last few shots. Once I finished, I ended up basically running down the mountainside and arriving at the split in the hiking route at around 4:15am, at which time I could see the heavy clouds and fog rolling in over the mountains, creating a beautiful, early morning scene. I caught up with Cynthia and Minh shortly after that and by the time we actually turned on the car to leave, it was around 5:00am or so. Yeah, really late and really early… I drove home as everyone crashed in the car and got us all home safely around 5:30-6:00am, at which time we all just crashed, knowing that there was little sleep to be had this morning. Because we had an appointment at 9:00am to get our COVID swabs completed for our flight back home, we slept for a measly 2.75 hours until 8:45am, at which time we had to wake up and jump into the car to drive to our testing site. Luckily, the line and swabs were quick and we were in and out in about 15-20 minutes.

We went home after the swab. The three of us who were out until early this morning were pretty exhausted and groggy. But because it was our last full day in Iceland, Cynthia was determined to make the most of it despite severe sleep deprivation. So instead of taking a nap like Minh did, Cynthia and I joined my parents on a morning walk to explore downtown Reykjavik. We started from our AirBnB located near Klambartun Park and slowly made our way toward Laugavegur, the main street lined with shops and stores that ran through downtown Reykjavik. As we strolled down the quiet street, we spotted a long line in front of a store and decided to take a closer look at what people were waiting for. And it was pastries and baked goods at Sandholt Reykjavik! So we joined the line (though mistakenly, since we waited in the dine-in line before realizing there was a faster, shorter line just for take-out from the bakery) and bought our delicious morning pastries to enjoy outside at a table nearby. And the pastries were delicious! Especially the almond croissant Cynthia bought! SO SO GOOD!

The family sat and enjoyed our pastries and coffee before continuing on our lovely morning stroll through town. We walked around downtown and checked out some stores here and there before turning around to head back toward Hallgrimskirkja to meet up with a rejuvenated Minh. Along the way, I took the family on a detour so that they could see my old flat on Bergstaðastræti. We briefly got lost along the way since I couldn’t remember exactly where it was but we eventually found it after some backtracking.

We met up with Minh at Hallgrimskirkja and took a brief look inside the church before splitting up from mom and dad to meet up with Thorsteinn and his girlfriend Thordis Erla on the other side of downtown at a cute brunch place called The CooCoo’s Nest near the Old Harbour. Along the way there, we stopped by to look in a couple of stores and even ran into an old Stanford buddy, Bryce Kam, and his wife walking around Laugavegur. What a coincidence! We chatted in the streets for a few minutes before we had to bid them farewell so that we could make it to brunch on time.

After a relatively short walk through town to get to the Old Harbour side, we finally arrived at The CooCoo’s Nest and found Thor and Thordis already there waiting for us and for a table to open up. After officially meeting Thordis, we sat outside and started catching up over all sorts of things until it was time to be seated at our table inside. We continued on with our great conversations inside as we ate our delicious brunch (Cynthia and I ordered their Breakfast Burrito and Eggs Florentine, both which were yummy). We had a wonderful two-hour long late brunch with the two of them and shared a ton of great stories and talked about all sorts of topics, from Thor’s and Thordis’ life updates (including buying a house together, Thor getting a new job managing assets and portfolios, Thordis going back to school to study industrial finance after briefly working, Thordis’s previous work life working for Icelandair as a flight attendant) to stories about our trip and our lives in the States during a pandemic. So much fun to catch up after almost five years!

Once we had taken our photos and said farewell to each other, Cynthia and I slowly walked through downtown and made a couple of stops along the way as we headed back to the house while Minh went off on his own to look for Icelandic sweaters to buy. By the time we arrived back at the apartment, there was only 1.5 hours left until our next social gathering with Sveinn Magnússon and Kristin Bragadottir at their house for dinner. OH. MY. GOODNESS. I was so full and so tired by the time we got home that I couldn’t even think about more talking and more eating. We helped do some laundry before Cynthia and I went to lie down and take a quick power nap. Unfortunately, we were woken up soon after we went to bed and rushed out of the house so that we could make it to dinner on time at Sveinn’s. We drove over there, and when we arrived, we were warmly greeted by Sveinn and Kristin before Minh and dad finally showed up after their souvenir-buying stroll. It was such a pleasure to see Sveinn and Kristin again after these busy last 4.5 years!

Sveinn and Kristin welcomed us with open arms into their warm home, one that I have visited every trip I’ve made to Iceland. While waiting for dinner to be prepared, I introduced Sveinn and Kristin to my parents and Cynthia, who they had never met, and we shared stories in the living room while sipping on white wine. It was great to finally introduce everyone to each other after they had all heard stories about each other over the years. We caught up for a while before we were seated at the dining table for a fabulous and delicious dinner spread that included an appetizer of shrimp and cheese salad, mains and sides of baked salmon with a puff pastry top, half-mashed potatoes, and salad, and rhubarb oatmeal pie with vanilla ice cream for dessert. What a yummy treat! Over dinner, we learned so much more about Iceland, past and present, from Sveinn and also learned about Kristin’s journey to her PhD in history and her authorship of several historical books as a result. Always so great to hear about the amazing things they are doing and the amazing knowledge they are always willing to share with us!

After dinner, we continued to sip on more wine while chatting more and looking through family photo books that Sveinn had collected over the years. I learned more specifics about Sveinn Magnusson as a physician. For example, before working at the ministry, he was a general practitioner in Sweden and Iceland and was boarded in Internal Medicine and Family Medicine. He then transitioned to working for the Icelandic government where he served primarily as director general, the second highest ranking civil, nonpolitical official in Iceland who reports directly to the prime minister. And while working at the ministry for 21 years, he served a total number of 16 prime ministers. These days, while not doing government work, Sveinn is primarily on call to do death exams on folks in the community. Every now and then, he is tasked with doing a little more than that. In one instance a few years ago, he was the physician who did the baseline intake physical exams for the group of Greenland boat guys who were involved in the murder of a young Icelandic woman. Crazy! After hearing all sorts of cool and crazy stuff and before we even knew it, it was 9:30pm and time for our exhausted family to bid Sveinn and Kristin farewell and a big thank you for hosting us at their lovely house on our short trip through Iceland.

Before driving home, we briefly stopped by the water so that everyone could check out Sun Voyager Sculpture and the Harpa Concert Hall. After some photos, we were pooped and drained, so we finally drove back home and started the task of packing and tidying up for our trip home. Minh’s energy tank was still holding some gas by this point (probably because of his effective power nap), so he decided to walk around downtown and check things out before hitting the sack. Cynthia decided to go with him to maximize her only full day in Reykjavik but because I was so tired, I stayed in to rest. I helped with laundry and hung out around the house until a bit past midnight, at which time I went to bed shortly before Cynthia and Minh returned home. What a ridiculously packed and exhausting last full day in Iceland! If only I had more time to just chill and do everything over a few days instead of over 36 hours… But at least there is one more half day left to enjoy tomorrow…

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

1. Today, tourism is the number one industry supporting the infrastructure and economy of Iceland, surpassing Iceland’s fishing industry. Therefore, when the pandemic hit and set the world on fire, tourism took a huge hit in Iceland and resulted in the crippling of Iceland’s economy. There were huge drops in revenue due to travel restrictions and mandates. But for some Icelanders, it was actually quite nice to have their country all to themselves once again after a decade-long boom in tourism. Local Icelanders got the chance to, once again, experience and enjoy Iceland’s beautiful nature the same way they used to enjoy it before tourists flocked to Iceland. It was now quieter and less crowded and locals could now go to tourist hotspots that they previously avoided due to tourist crowds (like the attractions along the South Ring Road). Icelanders got to travel locally with their families again and spent much of the pandemic just reconnecting with their families and friends. With tourism essentially on pause, it also gave nature time to rest and recover, something that was much needed in Iceland. Funny enough, though, despite everything I wrote above, when the country was open to tourists again, a lot of Icelanders, who are a social breed of people, actually appreciated and welcomed the tourists again. Not only did tourists bring money that was desperately needed into the country’s economy, but they also brought with them interesting conversation topics and new perspectives that helped break up the monotony of Icelanders keeping conversations afloat with people they’ve known their whole lives. During the pandemic, Icelanders actually missed seeing and talking to us tourists! Funny!

2. Thordis informed me that Icelandic weddings typically don’t have wedding parties to accompany the bride and groom to the altar but just have the bride and groom’s fathers present at the altar for their ceremony.

3. Supposedly, until 1974, the many rivers running through Iceland played a major role in travel and exploration in the country. Rivers were one of the major reasons that limited domestic traveling because, at the time, the country lacked a way to cross those rivers. However, around 1974, Iceland was gifted single-laned bridges to bridge them to broader horizons and to expand their previously-limited area for exploration.

4. When the latter half of the year arrives with its darkness, snow, and cold, windy weather, non-city-dwelling people in Iceland sometimes have to take up a secondary job or change the nature of their primary jobs because their work may be limited due to the challenging and harsh weather conditions. For example, if the farmers are growing crops, they can’t really do any of that in the winter. So they, along with other people from the countryside in need of something to do, sometimes volunteer to help in town. Sometimes they volunteer in civil roles and things like firefighting and teaching. Others will just take the down time to fix up their homes and do repairs they didn’t time to get to over the year. If you’re a farmer who raises animals or has animals to deal with, those farmers can continue working but maybe in a different way. Dairy farmers will continue their work with their cows. Sheep farmers will work to feed and breed their sheep after the sheep have been collected from the previously-green-but-now-yellow-and-brown fields where they roamed all summer. They can also start collecting the wool they shave off the sheep to get that side of the business going.

5. It isn’t that farmers don’t grow crops in Iceland because of the poor soil. Rather, they can’t grow successful crop fields because of the variation in the amount of sunlight and relative lack of sunlight during certain parts of the year. However, some manage to grow potatoes or other crops in very environmentally-controlled set-ups like greenhouses.

[vanxcks]

and a movie

Abed Nadir lives in LA now, and there's something they still haven't done.

Word count: 1766

AO3 link in notes

“I want to make a movie.” Abed says it abruptly. It’s the reason he came, after all. And it’s important to make your point early in the conversation; otherwise it runs away from you.

“You know I’m not a producer, right?” his friend asks.

“I know that. But I wanted to be able to air the idea out. See if it’s Hollywood-ready. I know what I’m doing, but a second opinion can’t hurt. Besides, you seem to have some success.”

His friend laughs. “I mean, a couple movies in, I guess my opinion counts.” Abed cracks a smile. “What’s it about?”

“Friends. Not the show. Friends of mine. Old friends, actually. From before I moved here.”

“A movie based on your friends?”

“I was thinking my friends could be in it, actually.”

“So, a biopic?”

“Yes. I could document some portion of their lives.”

“You mean it would be a documentary.”

Abed pauses and then says, “Technically, yes, but six seasons and a documentary doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.”

Abed doesn’t have a roommate, but he does have friends. People that he hangs out with regularly—going out to dinner after work, having movie nights where they all bring different snacks. They have bad taste in movies, but so does he. He’s the first to admit Kickpuncher isn’t a masterpiece. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have his costume hanging in his closet for emergencies.

Or non-emergencies. But only if they involve watching the movie alone at two in the morning and acting out the scenes as they go. Those are acceptable.

In high school, he didn’t think he’d ever have any friends. He thought he was stuck in the underdog role, the nerd that got his books knocked out of his arms, the kid that no one wanted to be partners with. Although Abed had never actually gotten his books knocked out of his arms. He thought it was a ridiculous trope. He’d fit into the rest of the categories though.

At some point at Greendale, he’d thought he would never again have friends like the study group. These were the days, the short period that would change their lives forever. The period that they would eventually have to leave behind, but that nothing would ever measure up to again. He’d expected to spend the rest of his shallow life thinking back to these four (five, six) years with his found family. As it turns out, though, tv shows are short because of budget, because of the inability of writers to churn out more, because of low viewership. And just because they’re short doesn’t mean there isn’t more to the story. He’s happy now. He’s comfortable.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a picture of that first halloween up on his bulletin board, though.

“So, what exactly would this documentary be about?”

Abed cocks his head. “I don’t know. It would be about them. It would be about them and...I guess it would be a little bit like Friends, except funnier. I mean, the relationship and drama of it. Although the emotional bits were always my least favorite. I liked the action episodes the best.”

“The action episodes from Friends?”

“No, from when I was at Greendale.”

“Oh, sorry, yes, the episodes from when you were at Greendale,” his friend says, and Abed can tell it’s sarcasm, but he can also tell that it’s not mean.

Abed nods. “Yes. Maybe I should do something more whimsical, like that. It’s not exactly in the sitcom format, but the show never was.”

“And by whimsical, you mean…”

“Oh, you know, paintball fights, eerily accurate homages, the like. Genre-bending stuff.”

“That’s what college was like for you?”

“I told you,” Abed says. “Genre-bending stuff.”

--

Everyone still keeps in touch. Annie visits the most. She’s happy, and he’s glad he told her to take a forensics class. It’s better for her.

She visits and she asks how he’s doing (well), what he’s doing (he’s working on his portfolio before he starts trying to get a big title—it’s an important step), and where his new dreamatorium is (he doesn’t have one. He’s grown past the need for childish things like that. He doesn’t need a designated room for rendering imaginations. He’s an adult. He can do it anywhere in his house now.)

Annie’s doing well, too. She had to intern for a few years, but now she’s properly training at the FBI Academy. (“Basically, I’m, like, really fit now,” she says and laughs. “And they let me carry a gun.”

“But you already had a gun.”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. Troy and I found it in your bag when you moved in.”

“You searched my bag?”)

--

Abed and Troy talk to each other sometimes, when Troy has cell service. It’s not often.

Troy didn’t bring a DVD player (which is ridiculous, Abed should have helped him pack), but he did manage to buy a crappy portable one from one of the places he’d stopped for fuel and food. Every several weeks they call, put the same DVD in, and then count down to play. Troy’s movie is always scratchy and terrible, so it’s awkward (“Pause. No, wait, play...oh no, it’s lagging again. Did it just skip over a scene? Pause.”) They dress up and make popcorn, and a couple of times they even made a blanket fort like back at Greendale.

Troy has been on his trip for longer than any of them had expected, but that’s what happens, right? And that has to be okay. He’ll be back eventually, and Abed is okay with that.

Troy says he’s been making music. It makes sense. He’d always liked writing raps for the two of them.

--

Britta visits often too. Mostly to detail him on the rampant racism and misogyny in the film industry. (“You work with these people? Abed, I can’t believe you. Do you understand the history behind this? These people have been silencing voices for decades. Blackface, yellowface, and don’t even get me started on the women’s roles in a lot of these movies.”

“They’re good movies.”

“Yes, but the impact of them on our society is astronomical!”)

He knows about all of it, anyway—he’s a muslim and half-arab man watching movies made in the twentieth century. It’s difficult not to notice the bigotry. But he knows she means well. And he likes it when she visits.

Abed shows her the neighborhood. It’s small and busy and feels like a movie set, probably because it is the movie set. He’d seen so many stories told in Los Angeles. Being here is amazing. They go to a coffee shop, and she drinks coffee while he eats a cupcake. Then, they go for burgers.

-- New Message To: dharmon@gmail.com Subject: Props

How much would it cost me to get enough paintball guns to stage a school-wide fight if the school had about one thousand people in it? Try and get back soon.

New Message To: dharmon@gmail.com Subject: Re: Props

Disregard the paintball guns. It’s been done too many times.

--

Shirley visits the least, although he knows that she wishes she could come more. (“I’m so sorry,” she says, “I just wish I could take care of all of you, but my babies take up so much of my time.” Then, “did you know that Ben Benjamin took his first steps last week?”

“Yes. You sent me a video, remember?”

“Oh, yes. Wasn’t it nice?”

“Very nice.”)

She bakes for him. She bakes for all of them, actually, since she always makes them send pictures of themselves with the food to the group chat. It’s not like it was. She knows her worth, and she knows that they need her. “I just like to take care of you, is all,” she’d said. They sit at the table and eat. Shirley doesn’t like silence. Which is nice, because it means that she’ll listen to him talk for hours. He can’t always tell if she’s getting bored, but she doesn’t outright stop him, and that’s nice. She thinks everything is nice.

--

New Message To: dharmon@gmail.com Subject: Re: Props

How about a vat of lava?

--

Jeff doesn’t visit the most out of all of them, but he does stay the most in touch. He’s still at Greendale, the only one other than Britta. They’re still trying to keep the school running. Britta started a bartending class, which is ironic because Britta is terrible at bartending. But being incompetent is part of Greendale’s charm, isn’t it?

When Jeff comes to visit, he wants to watch Abed’s documentaries. They’re getting good. Jeff thinks so too, and Jeff would say if he thought they were bad. Abed likes that about Jeff—he says what he thinks. Except for the sarcasm. And the lawyering.

The point is, Jeff rarely lied to them.

He does critique everything except the filmmaking, though. He jokes about Abed’s friends, about his boss, about the logo for the coffee shop at the corner of the street. He gets distracted by every conventionally attractive woman that comes on-screen, too.

“Hey, you’re doing all of this documentary filming, Abed,” he said, during his last visit.

“Yeah?” Abed pressed pause.

“Remember when you would film us? Make all those movies? Like when Pierce tried to fake his goddamn death, and you wouldn’t put down your camera even when we were all having breakdowns? Or when the dean made that commercial, and you wouldn’t put the camera down because of his breakdown?”

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

Jeff paused, and Abed turned a little to stare at him. “I don’t know. It was fun.”

“You’re right.” Abed’s brow creased. “It was fun.”

Jeff didn’t reply, so Abed pressed play again.

--

It takes a lot more planning, but Abed eventually cobbles together some things. A ragged film crew. The equipment he needs. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do with this, once it’s done. Sell it? Keep it on his shelf, along with his other documentaries? Their adventures had always seemed like too much to keep from an audience.

He types out the email a few times, many times, because he’s not sure it’s right, because it’s too long, because it’s too brief, because it’s too cliche, too plot-twist-slash-sequel-slash-unecessary-renewal. In the end, though, he deletes the whole thing and just writes what he wants to say.

--

New Message To: brittaperry@hotmail.com, jwinger@greendale.edu, troyisawesome@gmail.com, shirleybennet@yahoo.com, aedison@gmail.com Subject:

Hi,

I want to make a movie.

A/N:  i binged this show on netflix during quarantine and it absolutely destroyed me. i immediately opened up a document to write a fix it before realising that there wasn't anything to fix, really. i just wasn't used to show creators actually knowing how to write, so props to dan harmon for that, i guess. i have a bunch more fic ideas, so i'll definitely get to work posting them soon!! thank you so much for reading and please leave a comment and/or kudos if you liked it! (all email addresses in this fic are either fake and made up or blatant and obnoxious references to the show! you'll never know)

[minthysugamon]

Barell of a Gun (Hitman! Jimin x Reader)

(Warnings: This one is pretty dark. Please don't read if you feel uncomfortable at the mentions of Paid Murder,Gambling,Uncomfortable Situations and Kidnapping. This doesn't depict Jimin's real personality. It's only a work of fiction. Please don't associate Jimin with this after you read it,he isn't like that in real life. IT IS ONLY A WORK OF FICTION BASED ON A JAMES BOND-AGENT 47 TYPE OF CONDUCTING LINE)

Word count: 2045

As soon as night has fallen,he started to get ready. Pen,check. Knives,check. 9mm,check. Everything was going perfectly. Park Jimin never paid attention to the victim. At least,he never let his emotions rule over the goal he had in front of him. And that goal was the 1,000,000$ he will get after he eliminated the person in the portfolio. It's a well paid price,and until he does the job without being noticed,it's worth it. He never accorded time to his emotions. It's a rational job,find the person,eliminate them,get paid. Nothing really hard. He prefers to say eliminate because killing would make his targets look like victims,whilst most of them are just rotten people.

"Agent 91,welcome. Please type in the password to unlock." His computer displayed the following words. He typed it in once. Doesn't work. The fourth time,same thing happened. "Fuck. Not again. I don't have time for this shit right now." Jimin was starting to get agitated. The fifth time,he just scanned his retina,hoping it would work. And it did. Thankfully. Because if it hadn't,the whole fuck-up would've cost him a lot of money and primarily his life,probably.

While sitting in the car,you had some Depeche Mode song your brother was blasting earlier in his room,stuck on repeat in your head. It was called Barrel of a Gun or something,the guitar riff was kinda cool so it stuck to your neurones. The ride to the casino was accompanied by an awkward silence,your date for the night has chosen some pompous place to dine at and now wanted to go gamble some money away. He was the son of some rich politician at your school,of course he would do something like that. "Did you like the meal?" The guy placed a hand on your knee,not as if you had asked,but for the moment you didn't do anything. "Yes,i liked it,even thought the wine was a little bit dry for my taste." He simply smirked and rolled up the partition in the back of the Limousine before his hand has made its way higher up on your thigh. "Well..if it can comfort you,i know that something won't be as dry as the wine tonight." Breaking point. You took his hand into yours and simply smiled. "Jacques,listen. I appreciate your gestures and all,but please,please,pretty please,don't ever fucking touch me again without me consenting to it." You heard a pop coming from the bone of his hand,not realising you were literally almost breaking it so you had let it go.

Jimin had stepped into the grand hall of the Casino of Monte Carlo,getting the casual verifications done. He stood at the roulette table,and since he had some time to kill,he didn't mind gambling away some thousands. The main point was to blend in,not to be outstanding. "Mesdames,Messieurs,Faites-vos jeux." He had forgotten how wonderful the french language sounds...as wonderful as a cat choking on some plastic wrap. His bet was put on the number 3,his lucky number. Not that he was superstitious,but it always brought him chance,so...why not this time? "Les Jeux sont faits." As soon as the roulette started spinning,he looked around himself and finally saw his target. But it wasn't planned that he will have company.

Sitting besides Jacques while he was playing a hand,needless to say,it was more than just boring. You never wanted to go home as much as you did now. Plus,the high-heels were killing your feet,it was a plus reason for you to just get up and leave. But you didn't. Simply because he was already kind enough to take you on a date,so,you had nothing more to do than just sit beside him and observe. Jacques wasn't good at Poker,even if he liked to think the opposite,and his loss was already over 100,000€. If he were a simple man,he would already be indebted,but it wasn't the case. The game only started to be interesting when another man sat down at the table and joined the party.

"May i?" Jimin asked with a small smile on his lips. He knew his target was beside him,it will be easier to calculate his every moves. But he didn't realise it will be harder since you were in the frame too. As soon as the game started,he saw that the guy wasn't good at playing,only bluffing,so,he took this to his advantage and told himself he will use the "I'm just tryna help you bro" card later. Jimin's eyes were mostly on you though,and he didn't calculate his emotions,but he would've been lying if he said you weren't beautiful.

You were looking at the cards in Jacques's hands. Seeing the 3 others on the table,he was already fucked,but of course,he had to bluff. "50,bet" echoed from the man beside you and everyone folded. Except one. The new player at the table. "Oh...i see you play with big amounts...let me make it more interesting then. Calling 1600." The black haired man's proposition made you jump a little bit. It wasn't only 1600€,but 1,600,000. "So..? What do you think? Reasonable proposition,no? Or...are you scared of losing?" The guy smirked and your partner stood up. "I'm going for a smoke. Pause the game." "Man,it isn't such a bad proposition,but okay...let's say 1,400,000 to save your honor." He followed Jacques to the balcony. Which was a pretty bad idea knowing how he can get when he's angry,you knew how out of hand the situation could get,he was the same at Uni. Anger Issues was his middle name.

Jimin was only trying to provoke the poor guy. Poor...let's not say that. He was the kid of an asshole that got rich by scamming poor people. Let alone,the father was a politician. The only way for Jimin to attain his final target was to hurt him. Not that he had to,but it was more effective this way. "Stop fucking following me. I have enough of your gimmicks. I saw how you were looking at him. You're on a date with me,not him." The hitman simply laughed. "Oh..you thought your little girlfriend came after you? Believe me,she has better things to do. Now,if you excuse me..." Gun cocked. Silencer already on. And fire. The bullet went straight through the younger one's head,in between the eyes. "Bull's eye. Good." As the body of the guy has fallen,Jimin started to wipe his silencer and put the pistol away. Too bad the girl was at the balcony as he did it.

"What the fuck have you done? WHO THE FU-" You screamed at him,but the scream hadn't live to its full potential as the guy from the table had silenced you with a hit to your head. You woke up five hours later,tied to a chair,in a living room in some old ass apartment,still propably in southern France. "Rise and shine babygirl,you're safe now. My name is...you have no buisness knowing it,but call me 91. Or Jay. Whatever suits you." As you looked around you,you saw nothing you could recognise. Only the feeling of the rag on your mouth was prominent,with the bounds around your wrists and legs. "I guess i should take off the gag...but can i trust you to not scream?" You nodded,already planning to get away somehow. As Jay took off the gag you inhaled and tried to scream but he had his hand in front of your mouth. "I should've killed you when i had the chance. I didn't need any kind of witnesses. But here i am,trying to plan out something so you don't talk. Now. Stop screaming or i'll send a bullet flying through your brain. Also..what's your name again?" He knew it of course...but wanted to hear it as he took off his hand of your mouth and looked at you. "Wasn't that your initial plan? And my name is (Y/n)." The sass in your words left him surprised enough to smile and unload his gun. "Wow,getting sassy i see. I like it." "Why did you kill him? Was it because he was involved in some shady buisness?" You talked way more than you should have. And Jimin liked that. More information means more time...which means a better approach towards the target. "What do i look like? A social justice warrior? Honey,i get paid for shit like this. But now,my only problem is you. What should i do with you? You weren't in the frame. And now you are here,bound to a chair...don't get me wrong,i like the view,but you shouldn't have wandered away from that goddamn table yesterday." You simply lowered your head and looked at his hands. He was fidgeting. Unable to decide what he should do. "You should probably kill me then. I mean,if i am too much to handle,and since you know i'll be talking as soon as i get out of here,you should just choke me to death...quick and effective." He smiled and took your chin with two fingers so you were looking into his eyes. "Let me think about it. But i already know i won't kill you...in the end,you're truly innocent so..there would be no fun in that." "So...you're pretty much a social justice warrior then" He let your chin go and stood up to walk around the apartment.

Jimin knew killing you would've made too much mess,plus,cleaning the whole appartment after it would have taken too much time. Plus...he kinda started to like you. You were the type of girl he could settle with. So he went with plan B...or more like,he wanted to go with plan b which was about to let you go and threaten you to not talk. But as soon as he heard footsteps coming towards the apartment,Jimin changed his mind and chose Plan C. "You'll be coming with me. We have to get away. I already lost more than 3 hours with you getting in my way."

You were quickly untied and he secured a gun around your thigh. "You know how to use one? Just in case,to be safe." Why on earth would he give you a gun? "I could kill you right now if i wanted." "Yeah,i know,but you don't want to. That's the positive point. Now open the window and get out." God knows why you obeyed him,but it was almost automatic. Did you like the rush of the situation? Maybe yes. Maybe it was simply because you were scared...maybe it was because you kind of liked the way the whole situation turned out. He was following you as soon as he cleared the area,and unlocked his car. "Get in. I'll be here soon. No more than 2 minutes." "Huh? Where the fuck are you going?" "Getting my shit and then i'll be here." And with that,he was already on his way.

No more than two minutes after,he was back with his suitcase and the briefcase containing some papers,his pc and most importantly,the money. "Buckle the belt. We'll be on the road for 10 to 15 hours..." "Where are we going?" He simply smiled and turned the engine on. "Let that be a surprise..." "So...you're pretty much kidnapping me,right?"

He chuckled and looked into the rear-view mirror. "It's better than the barrel of a gun against your head at least. And...you'll see,it won't be as bad as you think."

Was this really the life you were about to live? Probably. Was it safe? Probably not,but did you have any other choice? No. But...little did you know,it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

(Y'all,i'm sorry if it is bad...i really wanted something different but in the end idk...it doesn't seem good to me...i let you all be the judge)

[brutal-nemesis]

Seasoned Explorers

Uhh yeah I finally had to turn in my writing portfolio AKA I finished my phat fiction story with a whumpy ending! 

This is a VERY non-canon space pirate AU featuring Castys, Syll, and Erebus, all of whom are mortal and completely human here.

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: character death, body horror, implied amputation, self harm to escape from danger

“Hey, Castys, I just picked up another old distress signal. And it’s close by, so we should be able to at least pop by and grab some valuables before we need to head back to base,” Syll said, glancing up from her command console.

“This better not be another planet with one of those giant evil apocalypse monsters still roaming around. The scars that fish thing gave me have not gone away yet.” Castys rolled down his sleeve as he said this, revealing a row of puncture marks that stood out on his bronze skin. He lazily examined them while still driving their spaceship. 

“The cool thing about scars is that they don’t go away.”

“Oh hey shut up look at that it’s the planet-wow it’s super white.” Castys peered out the window at the huge white sphere that had come into view once the ship had slowed down. Syll got out of her chair and joined him in front of the main window.

“Is it winter in both hemispheres? I didn’t think this one was far enough from its sun to warrant this much ice. And I can’t see any structures or oceans or anything, everything must have been completely frozen over. It could be how they all died,” Syll mused.

“Well, if we get too cold we can always just stab ourselves with our thousand degree knives.” Castys pulled out his plasma knife and held it close to his chest, which probably would have killed him if the blade had been turned on. “Big toasty~.” He put it back in his pocket. “Anyway, could you go get Erebus up while I land this thing? I’ll do it in the southern hemisphere since it’s supposed to be summer there and less cold is good.” Syll nodded and went to wake Erebus, who was sleeping on the lower deck of the ship.

Castys landed the ship in a field next to a frozen city. The three of them met near the exit hatch, and Erebus checked the outside conditions display to see if the atmosphere would be breathable. It was, thankfully, but there was something else that stood out on this supposed frozen planet. “Guys… I don’t think that’s ice out there. The temp gauge says it’s warm out there. Like above-the-melting-point-of-water warm.”

“For real?” Castys replied, shoving Erebus aside to look. “Wack. Guess I won’t need all this warmy stuff then. Especially since this planet isn’t one where the atmosphere isn’t made of toxic gas that’s going to burn my skin.” He shed his warmer layers, and the other two followed suit.

When they stepped outside, they had to shield their eyes for a moment. Everything was a blinding white as far as the eye could see. Every tree and building was covered in a layer of glittering crystals. Flowers sprouted here and there, unnaturally still in the breeze. The ground crunched as they walked on it, the only sound disturbing the unnatural silence that pressed on their ears. The dead planets they pillaged typically still had some sort of life on them, something crawling or running or flying about, but everything here was completely still. Frozen, quiet, and crystalline.

Upon entering the city, they began to find the people. Their forms had been hard to make out from far away in the stark-white environment, but there were hundreds of them throughout the streets. Each and every one was frozen in time. Running, crawling, fallen to the ground, screaming in agony, in disbelief, reaching out to one another, staring up to the sky. Perfectly still statues with every flavor of pain and fear written across their faces.

“What...happened here?” Erebus had stopped in front of the form of a woman collapsed on her knees, a look of horror on her face as she stared at her own hands.

“Yeah this is pretty messed up.” Castys nudged the arm of a person lying on the ground, but they didn’t budge. “I don’t know if it’s as bad as that one planet with all the mushrooms...well, I’m sure y’all remember, but these guys are just like, perfectly frozen in their, uh, magic crystal death.”

“What does it matter? We’re not here to play detective for a dead planet.” Syll paid the frozen people no mind, weaving past them as she continued to walk down the street, looking buildings up and down. “Besides, there’s no use getting all sad about dead people we don’t even know. We see them all the time, pillaging dead planets as much as we do, and this time’s no different.”

“I don’t think we’ve seen anything exactly like this before.” Syll shot an annoyed glare at Castys and he held his hands up in surrender, continuing, “I get what you’re saying, though, so I’m down to stop staring at dead people and try to find some valuables.” He began walking with Syll, and Erebus reluctantly followed, giving the dead woman one last glance.

The three of them usually tried to find a museum or building of the sort when pillaging planets, since works of art of precious artifacts were worth a lot more galaxywide than the planet’s local currency ever could be. Normally, street signs and maps could typically assist in their search, but their crystalline coating made them impossible to read. Erebus tried to scrape the crystals off, but his efforts yielded nothing but more crystals. Wandering around looking for a museum was all they could do.

However, once they saw the building in the distance, they knew they had found it. It was much shorter than the surrounding buildings and was flanked by impressive columns and statues. The three walked through the open doors hoping there was something of value inside. The lights no longer worked, but huge windows along the walls allowed enough light in to see, even though the glass had been turned into the strange crystals. The situation inside the museum wasn’t any different from the outside. Every single thing had been converted to crystals, from the skeletons to the works of art, a blank white scene of greatness long-gone.

“I don’t think there’s gonna be anything worthwhile in here since it’s all crystal-y. Let’s just call this one a dud and head out.” Castys began to turn back and head outside.

“Wait.” Erebus held his arm out, stopping him. “A lot of museums have, like, a room with different minerals and stuff right? Maybe if this place had one we could go and see if this planet has some weird mineral that, I don’t know, spread all over for some reason? There’s gotta be a sign with information or something.” 

“That would be a great idea except for, oh yeah,” Castys gestured to a large blank sign next to him, “words aren’t real.” There was an awkward pause. “Like reading words. Here. Because of the crystals. If there was a sign we couldn’t read it. Because everything turned into-” Erebus clamped a hand over Castys’s mouth before he could continue.

“Thank you, Castys. Shut up, Castys.” Castys responded in an even more mature manner by shoving his friend back, causing him to trip and fall on his back. “Ouch. Geez, dude. You made me bite my tongue.”

“OH NO! I’ve killed you, my dear friend.” Castys fell to his knees, his hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. “Forgive me for this grave sin.”

“Would you two stop fooling around?!” Syll yelled from the top of the large staircase on the other side of the room. “There might still be something worthwhile in this place, even if it is made of these weird crystals. So start looking.” Castys gave her a thumbs up and helped Erebus off the ground before beginning to explore.

After about an hour, the three of them met up in one of the rooms on the upper floor. There wasn’t much of a haul since most of the things they would normally steal, like gold and gems, lost their value upon becoming crystal. They did find a few small figurines that would still be valuable since their delicate craftsmanship was preserved and a few fossils that were probably detailed enough to be worth something. As they moved to leave, Erebus motioned for the other two to wait.

“I might know what these crystals are. I stopped by what used to be the gemstone room, and being in there helped me remember some stuff from that geology class I took when I was younger.” He held up a chunk of crystal he’d picked up from somewhere. “There’s one mineral that you can lick it and you know exactly what it is. Give it a try, Castys.” He tossed him the crystal.

“Well, you know I like licking things.” Castys immediately tried it out, much to Syll’s disgust and Erebus’s amusement. He made a face. “Eugh. It’s just super salty.”

“Wait, it’s actually halite? It’s the mineral that’s just straight-up NaCl, one hundred percent salt. I was hoping it was just going to be quartz or something, here, let me try.” Erebus motioned for Castys to give him the crystal back. 

“So you just wanted me to lick a random rock for no reason? Why didn’t you just try it yourself?” Castys replied, tossing it back.

“Every scientist needs a guinea pig.” Erebus smiled. He licked the crystal and immediately winced. “Ouch, yeah that’s halite all right. Which I normally wouldn’t mind licking, but somebody made me bite my tongue.” He stuck it out for them to see the small wound, but where it should have been red, there was a patch of white. And it was growing bigger. 

“Erebus, what is that?” Syll asked, moving forward to get a closer look.

“I-” was all he could say before his tongue became completely encased in the white crystals and Erebus found he couldn’t move it anymore. The spread of the crystals didn’t stop there. The patch of flesh-turned-salt grew bigger and bigger, radiating out from his mouth. He collapsed to the ground, frantically scratching at his skin, trying to get the rapidly forming layer of salt off. Castys and Syll looked oh in horror as every gouge he made in his flesh quickly changed from red to white, drops of blood only coloring their bleached surroundings for a moment before turning completely into salt. 

“Erebus, Erebus!” Castys grabbed his hand, trying to do something, anything, to help his friend. “What the hell is happening?!” He yelled desperately.

“I-I don’t…” Syll felt rooted to the spot, like she was the one turning into a statue. All she could do was watch as Erebus’s movements became jerkier in his last act of grabbing Castys’s hand tightly with both of his own. And then he was still, completely encased in the same crystal as the entire planet, immortalizing his final moments of agony.

There was silence. Castys and Syll stayed perfectly still, as if they were waiting to see if the same fate would befall them. 

“I-” Castys looked up at Syll, tears brimming in his eyes, “Syll, this is all my fault, I-I made him bite his tongue is that what killed him oh god I-”

“We don’t know what for sure, Castys.” 

“Well then why aren’t I made of salt now too?! I licked it and nothing happened, but Erebus…”

“Hey, hey Castys, it’s okay, you didn’t know, there’s no way you could have known.” She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, feeling him shake with sobs. She was too much in shock to cry now, it still didn’t feel real. But there was no way Castys could deny Erebus’s fate. His left hand was still tightly clasped between both of Erebus’s. He couldn’t stop staring at his face, one that was laughing and smiling a minute ago, now frozen in an expression of terror. 

They weren’t sure how much time had passed, but when the light coming in from the windows began to dim, Syll stood and offered a hand to her friend. “Come on, Castys. Let’s...let’s go home.” Castys nodded wordlessly and started to stand, but when he tried to pull his hand out from Erebus’s, it wouldn’t budge. He tugged and tugged, but he couldn’t free himself from the dead man’s grip.

“Syll, Syll, my hand is stuck. He won’t let go.” He looked up at her pleadingly, the grief in his eyes beginning to mix with fear. 

“Uh-I-I don’t…” She had an idea immediately, but she hated herself for thinking of it. She looked around checking her pockets and her bag for some other solution, but there was nothing else she could think of. Nothing else she could do besides use her plasma knife. “Hold still.” She turned the knife on, the superheated blade flickering into existence, and positioned it near one of Erebus’s wrists. “I’m sorry, Erebus.” The knife cut through the salt easily, melting it before it even came in contact with the blade. When she was done, Castys lifted his arm, hand still clasped between the disembodied salt ones. He began to try to pry them off, and Syll joined in once she had turned her knife off. One of the hands snapped with an audible crack, fingers breaking off and leaving behind jagged stumps. One of which sliced into Castys’s palm.

Red blood oozed out of the gash, but that red quickly faded to white as crystals began to replace flesh and blood. “No, no, STOP!” Castys screamed, holding his hand as far away from himself as he could, as if that would stop him from meeting the same fate as his friend. “Stop it please I don’t want to die I’m sorry Erebus I’m so so sorry!”

Syll felt like she was on autopilot as she grabbed his wrist in one hand and the knife in the other. There was no time to think, no time to hesitate. She couldn’t lose them both.

 She turned the knife on and swung. 

There were three severed hands made of salt lying on the ground. But there were two flesh and blood people. They were hurting, to be sure, but they were alive. They could escape. And escape they did, leaving the silent planet of salt behind.

[unfolded73]

Husbands: Two Years In (5/5) - schitt’s creek ff

Here it is, the final chapter!  There's nothing I can say that can get across how touched I've been by the comments on this fic. The number of people who have shared things about their own struggles with mental health -- I'm not worthy of it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

While I'm including this fic as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 4718 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 5: Winter

“So how was your week?” Jessica asked.

Patrick always felt like he should plan before therapy what he was going to talk about, but he never remembered to do that.

“It was a little crazy. The holidays at the store always are, although it’s very lucrative. The money we make in December will carry us through at least half of the upcoming year,” he said, pinching the webbing on one hand between his thumb and forefinger of the other.

“And did you feel more equipped to handle that? The busy store, and all your responsibilities around that? Especially with Christmas a few days away?”

Patrick shrugged, feeling obstinate. “I don’t know.”

Jessica let a silence settle, waiting for him to talk. Patrick hated this part; it made him feel like he was failing at therapy when he didn’t know how to fill that silence. What the right answer was. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the sofa cushions, calling her bluff.

Finally, she relented and spoke, and Patrick felt like he’d won a round of whatever game they were playing. “You’ve never said much in here about your sexual orientation other than to talk about your husband and to say that things with your family are good. Was it always that way?”

Patrick tried not to roll his eyes. He knew this would be coming eventually. He’d been avoiding the subject of Rachel or his coming out process because he knew it would be something Jessica would fixate on. “I’m not depressed because of being gay, or… or anything to do with that. I love being gay.”

She smiled genuinely. “I’m glad. But humor me.”

“My parents always accepted me,” he said quickly, but that felt like a lie even though it was technically true.

“How old were you when you came out?” Jessica asked.

Patrick let out a frustrated sigh, seeing no way to avoid the truth now. “I was… I was in denial about being gay for a long time.” Might as well get it all out, he thought. “When I was twenty-nine I broke off an engagement to my high school sweetheart — who was a woman — and moved away from my hometown. Pretty soon after that, I realized I was gay.”

“That must’ve been hard,” Jessica said.

“Yeah, but once I got through it and… and got together with David, I’d never been happier.”

He couldn’t help but see the smile she gave him in response to that as patronizing. “New love can flood the body with so many good chemicals that it swamps out all of the bad ones.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I wasn’t happy?”

“No, I’m saying that the way you’ve framed things in some of our past sessions — that you were depressed before you moved here, and then you weren’t, and now for some reason you’re depressed again… that may not be the right way to frame it. Do you think perhaps it puts a lot of pressure on David as the source of your happiness?”

“I don’t put pressure on David,” Patrick protested.

“Is it possible that you put pressure on yourself, then? When it comes to your relationship with David and its importance in your life?” Jessica asked.

Patrick huffed and didn’t answer. Now she was contradicting herself from one sentence to the next.

“When did you come out to your family?” she asked.

“That isn’t why I’m depressed either,” he said.

Jessica sighed like he was finally challenging her constant state of serene acceptance. “Untangling the web of depression isn’t straightforward. It might be helpful to pull on different threads and see what they’re connected to. Okay?”

Patrick supposed that made sense. “Okay.” Then after another pause, he admitted, “It took me a while to come out to my parents.”

“Why is that?”

He stared at Jessica’s bookshelf for several seconds, his eyes running over the titles without reading them. “I worried that my parents wouldn’t be okay with it. They didn’t talk about gay people when I was a kid, really. Or when they did, they made it sound like a sad thing that we needed to tolerate because it wasn’t a choice. You know, that brand of ‘tolerance’ that is just that and nothing more.”

She shot him a sympathetic look. “It’s understandable why you were hesitant to come out to them.”

“But they were great about it. It wasn’t long after coming out to them that I asked David to marry me, and they were great. They love him, and all my worries were unfounded,” he said, trying to figure out why tears were threatening to spill over.

Jessica took a few seconds to rearrange herself, setting her ever-present portfolio aside and leaning forward on with her elbows on her knees. “I understand that, looked at a certain way, you’ve had a purely positive experience with coming into your sexuality. You had David, who from what you’ve said before is a very loving person. And based on what you’ve told me, you live in an accepting community. And then your parents stepped up and were there for you when you asked them to be. That’s all wonderful, and not to be discounted. But it doesn’t change the fact that for all of your formative years, when maybe on some subconscious level you did know that you were gay, or at least different in some fundamental way, you didn’t feel like your parents or the community you were living in would accept you. That kind of experience leaves a mark, even though everything turned out fine.”

She smirked, leaning backwards again. “Or not. Perhaps your serotonin is low due to simple physiology and I’m completely off the mark.”

Patrick felt strangely reassured by this honesty, this admission that she knew that she didn’t know everything. “So I need medication, then?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Medication might help. Or cognitive behavior therapy could help you. Or both together.”

His reassurance quickly dissolved, leaving Patrick wanting to scream at his therapist, fix me, goddammit! Instead he said, “That all sounds very nebulous.”

She grinned. “From what I know about you so far, I bet that’s driving you crazy, and I’m sorry about that. Can you bear with me for a little while, though? Work through the process?”

He sighed. “I’ll try.”

~*~

Patrick drove past the empty storefront on Elmdale’s main street as he was leaving his therapy appointment. He’d noticed every week that the ‘for lease’ sign was still in the window. After the second time he saw it, he’d texted Ray to ask if that was the space he’d mentioned to David. David hadn’t said anything about the second Rose Apothecary location in a while, but it didn’t take a genius to guess that he was still thinking about it, and probably wondering when Patrick would be ready to seriously entertain the idea again.

On impulse, he pulled into one of the parking spaces that lined the street and got out of the car, walking over to the empty storefront. The windows were covered in paper, but he could see enough through the gaps to make out that it had a scuffed up hardwood floor. It would need to be refinished, he thought, but it looked like it was in pretty good shape.

The smell of coffee attracted Patrick’s attention, and he looked over to see that there was a coffee shop next door. Grind House, the sign that hung under the awning said. Curious, Patrick went over and opened the door.

The barista looked up and waved. It being around two in the afternoon on a weekday, the place was mostly empty other than two people at a table in the corner who were huddled over laptop computers. The shop was decorated tastefully for Christmas, and he thought David would approve of the warmth and coziness of the space.

“Hey, what can I get you?” the barista — Taylor, her name tag read — asked him with a smile. Tattoos snaked out from under the sleeves of her t-shirt, black ink against dark brown skin.

“A small earl grey tea?” he asked.

“Sure thing. Is that it? We’ve got a few pastries left.”

His eyes strayed over to the pastry case. “Yeah, could I get a couple of those butter tarts to go? My husband is a real connoisseur.”

Taylor grinned at him. “Smart man.”

“Hey, what do you know about the empty space next door? Do you know if there’s been any interest in it?”

“Oh man, I’m still bummed about that. It used to be a comic book shop. I was afraid to go in there for the longest time — comic stores aren’t necessarily the most welcoming places to black queer women, you know? But the old guy that ran it was super nice. I remember he made a point of telling me when Ta-Nahisi Coates started writing Captain America.”

“What happened to the store?”

She shrugged. “Amazon drove him out of business, I guess. That’ll be $9.25,” she said ringing up his tea and butter tarts. As Patrick put his debit card in the reader, she added, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh.” He scratched his cheek. “My husband and I run a store in Schitt’s Creek. Rose Apothecary?”

“Holy shit, really? A friend gave me some of your lotion for my birthday. It’s great.”

Patrick swelled with pride. “Thanks. Anyway, we’re considering opening a second location in Elmdale.”

Taylor smirked, handing him his tea and a box with the tarts. “Sorry, I can’t allow you to have a store right next door to my coffee shop. I’ll spend all my profits there.”

Laughing, Patrick accepted his purchases. “Oh, well. Guess we’ll have to look for another place, then. Although David would return the favor, I’m sure.”

“What’s your name?” Taylor asked.

“It’s Patrick Brewer,” he said, setting the tea down again to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Patrick. I’m Taylor. And I hope you guys get the space.”

“I… do too,” he said, surprised to find that he meant it.

The store was bustling when he got back to Schitt’s Creek, and David and Bethany were both busy with customers. Patrick put the box of butter tarts in the back room and went to work restocking Christmas decorations. Given how many decorations they sold every holiday season, Patrick had to assume that by now every Christmas tree in Elm County was fully outfitted in David Rose’s aesthetic.

As soon as David finished with the customers he was helping, Patrick went over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I got you something for your afternoon break,” he said. “There’s a white box on the table in the back.”

David’s eyes lit up, and he hurried into the back before he could be waylaid by another harried holiday shopper.

They didn’t have a chance to exchange any more conversation until Bethany finally flipped the sign on the door to Closed and locked up. Patrick felt dead on his feet, but he had to admit that the thought of all the money in the cash register made him feel pretty good. Bethany went to work cleaning the windows while David leaned against the center table.

“Oh my god, Patrick, where did you get those butter tarts? Those are the best ones I’ve had in years.”

Patrick walked over and put his arms around his husband, pulling him into a hug. “A little coffee shop in downtown Elmdale that happens to be next to an empty store that I believe Ray mentioned to you a couple of months ago.”

David pulled out of the hug, his eyes darting back and forth as he studied Patrick’s expression. “It’s still vacant?”

Nodding, Patrick leaned up and kissed David’s cheek. “We should call Ray after Christmas and go take a look at it.”

“Are you sure?”

Patrick shrugged. “No, I’m scared as hell. Among other things, I’m afraid I’m going to miss having days like this with you, working together in our store. But I want to go look.”

David kissed his lips gently. “Okay.”

~*~

Stevie stood shivering on their back porch, bundled up in her hat and puffy parka. “It’s way too cold for this,” she said.

Patrick exhaled pot smoke in a crystalline cloud of breath and handled the joint back to her. “Our families are getting here tomorrow and I don’t want the house to smell like weed.” He giggled. “It doesn’t match David’s holiday aesthetic.”

His phone chimed, and he took it out to look at it, expecting a complaint from David. Instead the text was from his cousin. There were no words, just a picture of Justin pressed cheek to cheek with another boy.

Patrick: Who’s this?

Justin 🌈: his name is Jonah

Patrick: Very cute. And closer to your age, I hope?

Justin 🌈: 🙄 you sound like my mom he’s 18

Patrick: Good. Merry Christmas, Justin.

Justin 🌈: thanks you too

Then a text arrived from David, just as Patrick expected. She’s got even more luggage than last year.

Patrick laughed. Maybe it’s a lot of presents for you, he texted back.

David: You give my sister entirely too much credit.

Patrick: See you soon.

“Why are you suddenly so fucking popular?” Stevie groused, her teeth chattering, handing him the joint back as he put away his phone.

“Sounds like Alexis’s flight got in on time,” he said. “And my cousin Justin has a new… boyfriend, I guess?” He took another hit.

“I can’t stand this anymore; I’m going inside,” Stevie said, taking the half-smoked joint from him and carefully extinguishing it, then putting it in a crumpled sandwich bag that she produced from her coat pocket. Patrick followed her back into the house. “Is this the cousin that you rescued a while ago?”

“How many gay cousins do you think I have?” he asked, pulling his coat off.

“I mean, statistically? Given how many cousins you have? More than one.” She flopped down on the sofa and stretched out on her back. “So are you liking your therapist any better?”

Patrick dropped into the overstuffed chair across from her. “I don’t know. As I predicted, she’s starting to fixate on my sexual orientation and…” He gestured airily in a very David way. “All that.”

Stevie turned her head and regarded him balefully. “The fact that you were in denial about being gay until you were thirty? And didn’t come out to your parents until you were ready to ask David to marry you? Is that what ‘all that’ is?”

“Fuck off,” Patrick grumbled.

“I’m just saying, there’s probably some stuff to unpack there.”

“Stevie, I’m completely comfortable with being gay,” he said.

“Didn’t say you weren’t. It’s not about you being gay, but maybe it’s about how you get so wrapped up in your obligations to other people that you lose track of yourself. Or that you’re so obsessed with not disappointing the people you care about that you have a hard time being truthful about who you are or what you need.”

Patrick blinked. “Wow. Maybe you should be my therapist.”

Stevie laughed. “The problem is, I need to be high to have these deep insights.”

They settled into comfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally Patrick admitted, “I don’t like the way it makes me feel cracked open.”

“What does?” Stevie asked, her mind clearly having wandered.

“Therapy.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t think I could deal with that either,” Stevie said.

“It’s like… you know how if you pick up a big rock in moist soil, there’ll be all these bugs underneath it?”

“Ew,” Stevie said in a perfect imitation of David, and the two of them burst into gales of laughter for a while. When Stevie finally got control of herself, she said, “Sorry, what about the bugs?”

He wiped away tears from his cheeks. “It was a metaphor for my brain. I’ve got a lifetime of practice not moving those rocks. I don’t know if I want to know what’s underneath them.”

“Yeah, I get that.” She stretched her toes out, brushing them against the arm of the sofa. “You know you’ll be okay though, right?”

Patrick felt a swell of love for Stevie and he would have hugged her, but it would probably be weird. Also he was comfortable in his chair. Maybe he’d hug her later.

When David arrived from retrieving Alexis at the airport, Patrick put his coat back on to help with the luggage. David opened a bottle of wine and turned the lamps in the living room off, leaving only the light from the Christmas tree to illuminate the four of them as they settled in to talk.

They told Alexis about the new location in Elmdale that they were considering leasing, and she made some marketing suggestions that were good enough that David went and retrieved his journal from the bedroom so that he could make some notes.

“One thing I’ve seen businesses do to get market penetration is sponsor relevant conferences,” Alexis said. “Like, professional association meetings. Then they get their business name and logo printed on everything for the conference — tote bags, lanyards, USB sticks, all that stuff.” Her free hand that wasn’t holding her wine glass flopped around to indicate all of the stuff.

“We don’t really have general store conferences,” Patrick said, bemused.

Alexis rolled her eyes. “But it works for other events too. Summer festivals, parades, whatever.”

“Elm Valley has a pumpkin festival every year,” Stevie said.

Patrick was starting to have a germ of an idea related to what Alexis had said. He sipped his wine and filed it away to mull over later, when he was sober.

Tomorrow, Johnny and Moira and his own parents would arrive and things would take a turn for the chaotic, but for right now, Patrick could enjoy the warmth of David’s hand on his shoulder as his husband bantered happily with his sister and his best friend. Leaning into the crook of David’s arm, Patrick smiled and tried to soak up all of the love in the room, an inoculation against the darkness that might lurk around the next bend in the road.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” David murmured against his spine later in their bed. Their kisses had been drowsy and a little bit drunk as they decided that sex was happening tonight in spite of their houseguests. Alexis was in the guest bedroom and Stevie had zonked out on the living room sofa, David tucking an afghan around her shoulders before he and Patrick went to bed themselves.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Patrick said with a chuckle, writhing, pressed against the sheets as David worked him up and up.

“I know it’s not technically Christmas, but tonight was so nice,” David murmured into Patrick’s shoulder, words alternating with kisses. “It filled me with holiday spirit.”

Patrick tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was a losing battle. He made an attempt to smother his giggles into his pillow.

“If you say something about me filling you with the holiday spirit, it’s over between us.” The things he was doing to Patrick with his fingers belied that statement.

Laughing again, Patrick pushed his hips back against David’s hand, and then his laughter turned into a moan, and then neither of them said anything coherent for a long time.

~*~

The first town council meeting of the new year came on a grey January afternoon, the threat of snow on the horizon. Everyone was subdued and low energy, even Roland, and Patrick felt drowsy, struggling a little bit to pay attention and type at the same time that they discussed several budgetary issues. A lot of the topics were the same every meeting, with tiny, incremental changes almost too small to detect. Or worse, they were recurring issues that indicated no progress had been made at all.

When they got to the bottom of the agenda, Ronnie asked if there was any new business, and Patrick almost didn’t say anything. The idea that had occurred to him during the holidays had seemed strong on a happier day. Today, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to argue for it. But then he thought about the things Ronnie had said to him about queer activism, and he thought about Taylor and her coffee shop, and he opened his mouth.

“Have we ever considered having something in Schitt’s Creek for Pride?” he asked.

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “What, like a parade?”

“No offense, but it might be kind of a sad little parade,” Roland said.

“No, not a parade. Like, a street festival. Tents with food and other vendors and LGBT educational booths. Opportunities for people to find out about meetings in the area. Maybe a stage with speeches and musical performances. And we don’t have to limit it to only Schitt’s Creek. I looked into it a little, and even Elmdale doesn’t have anything like it. We could draw vendors and patrons from all over Elm County.”

Ronnie crossed her arms. “Sounds like a way to line your own pockets. I assume Rose Apothecary would be one of the vendors?”

Patrick met her gaze. “I’m sure the rest of council could be counted on to keep us on a level playing field with everyone else. Come on, Ronnie. Can you honestly say it wouldn’t be a good thing for the community? And a good way to bring money into the town?”

She tilted her head in acquiescence. “Put together a formal proposal and we can vote on it at the next meeting.”

“I’m going to vote ‘yes,’” Bob stage-whispered to Patrick.

“Thanks, Bob.”

After the meeting had adjourned, Patrick went over to Ronnie. “I thought later this month I’d go to that Thornbridge LGBTQIA+ meeting you told me about. See what they’re doing and make some connections. Ask if they’d be interested in helping out with our Pride festival.”

Ronnie stared at him for a second. “Your festival idea hasn’t been approved yet,” she said.

“Assuming it’s approved,” he said, unable to keep himself from grinning. “Would you like to go with me?”

“You want me to spend hours in a car with you, driving to Thornbridge. Really.”

“Come on, Ronnie. Someday you and I are going to have to bury the hatchet for good.” He put on his most guileless expression, the one that caused David to accuse him of weaponizing his eyes. “Why not in service to the queer community, of which we are both pillars?”

She almost, for a split second, looked like she was going to crack a smile. Instead she sighed. “Fine. Let me know when it is. I’ll see if I’m available.”

~*~

They celebrated signing the lease for the new store with pizza at David’s favorite spot in Elmdale. There were paper hearts colored by children in the front window, and it reminded Patrick that he only had a few days to find a suitably tacky gift for David for Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t get David to threaten to divorce him on this, David’s most hated of holidays.

While they waited for their pizza, Patrick reached across the red and white checkered tablecloth and took David’s hand. “Thank you,” he said.

David had been fiddling with his phone, but at the sound of Patrick’s voice, he set it face-down on the table and gave Patrick his full attention. “What for?”

“For being there for me so many times this past year. For… for putting up with me at my worst.”

A crooked smile threatened to erupt on David’s face. “Patrick, you know your worst is still pretty good, right?”

“I hope you’re not still grading me on a Sebastien Raine curve, David.”

David rolled his eyes at that. “No, I’m just saying that maybe you don’t have the most objective perspective on what being married to you is like.” His eyes softened. “I’m as happy being your husband today as I was the first day. Okay?”

Patrick swallowed around a surprising lump in his throat. “Okay.”

“You’re nervous about the new store,” David surmised.

“I am, but it’s the right decision,” Patrick said with confidence.

“I’m nervous too,” David said. “Don’t mistake my outward confidence for anything other than a thin veneer over all of my anxieties.”

That statement automatically put Patrick into reassurance mode. “The marketing ideas from Alexis are going to be helpful. The customer base in Elmdale is huge and has more disposable income compared to what we’re used to at home. I’ve run some numbers, and I think the revenue from this location may outstrip our Schitt’s Creek location in a matter of months.”

David grimaced. “Well, that somehow makes me feel irrationally protective of our first store. It doesn’t deserve to be the under-achiever.”

Squeezing David’s hand, Patrick said, “Never. I fell in love with you there, and there’s nowhere in the world more important to me than that store.”

“We can make new memories at the new store,” David said softly.

Patrick knew, realistically, that he and David probably wouldn’t be spending that much time together at the new store after they got it open. They’d have to split time between the two locations, and there would be even more work to do out on the road, expanding their vendor base to support the increased demand.

David seemed to read his thoughts. “And when we spend our days apart, it will make being at home together in the evenings that much more precious.”

“Yeah,” Patrick managed to say, his voice raw. He averted his eyes from David’s piercing gaze, staring out the window between the gaps in the paper hearts. “Can you… can you talk to me more about that?”

David smiled and rubbed his hands together. “Well, imagine a day when I’m at the store here in Elmdale, and you’re at the store back at home.”

“Are you at the one in Elmdale because of Taylor’s pastries?”

“Shhh,” David said, reaching out with a finger like he was going to put it over Patrick’s lips. “I leave the store a little early, letting one of our trusted employees close up, and I bring home some wine and cheese from the store. Maybe some of Heather’s new triple cream.” He closed his eyes like he was having an erotic fantasy about Heather Warner’s cheese.

“Wine and cheese that you pay for,” Patrick said.

“Naturally. Oh, and fresh berries. It’s summer, and there are berries in season. So I set everything up on the kitchen table, just in time for you to arrive home from the other store. And we drink wine and eat cheese and we tell each other all about our days. The sun is setting, and the light is all golden,” David said.

“I like this story,” Patrick replied. “Then what happens?”

“Eventually we move to the sofa. Maybe watch some TV or listen to some music. We put our feet up and finish our wine and you remember something funny that you saw on the internet and you tell me about it. And then when we get tired, we go to bed.”

“What happens then?” Patrick asked as their server set their pizza in front of them and David grabbed a slice.

David’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile and he waggled his eyebrows. “The rest of the story is very interesting, but you’ll have to wait to get home to hear that part.”

“Hmm, okay.” Patrick reached for his own slice of pizza.

“Hey,” David said, drawing Patrick back to looking at him. “I love you. I can’t wait to see what the next year brings for us.”

Patrick smiled. He felt bolstered, lifted up by David’s support and for once, he allowed himself to feel good about it. “Me either, David.”

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 61 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet opened up, Alaska chickened out, and Courtney finally had her date with Bianca.

This Chapter: Trixie widens his search for Aiden’s replacement, and Courtney gets a taste of the good life.

***

Courtney doodled absentmindedly on her notepad during Miss Fame’s Monday conference call. She was getting an update from the company that ran her European stores, and discussing the upcoming marketing plan with Alyssa. Courtney knew that she was only there in case Miss Fame wanted to add anyone to the line; since Ivy and Laganja were both on the call, she didn’t really need to be paying attention. She probably should’ve been anyway, but this was a case where a little negligence would be forgiven.

Which was good, because she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering, daydreaming about how wonderful the weekend had been with Bianca. Adore had come over on Sunday for dinner, after which Courtney almost went home, but Bianca pulled her in for an embrace and insisted that she stay another night. When she’d worried about not having any appropriate work clothes, Bianca promised to find her something from her own closet, even excited at the notion of styling her for the office.

At first, Courtney was a bit concerned about whether the thigh-high black boots were too hookerish, but Bianca was adamant that they were fashion - and she should know, right? At least her luxurious knit dress was in Fame’s approved color palette, so she was pretty sure she wouldn’t get scolded like the time she dared to wear a lime green top.

She looked down at her notebook, realizing that it was absolutely covered in hearts, and quickly flipped the page, embarrassed.

She clicked on her mouse, waking up the computer to check her emails. If she was gonna space out, she may as well make at least a halfhearted attempt at productivity. She saw that there were a few unread DMs and clicked on the window.

ROXY: Package here for you

ROXY: A big-ass box from Neiman Marcus

ROXY: From the Marie Claire messenger again

ROXY: You gonna tell me who you’re dating over there now?

COURTNEY: LOL, sorry. It’s brand new, I don’t think we’re ready to go public

ROXY: Bitch it’s just me, I can keep a secret

COURTNEY: Since when?????

ROXY: Since always!!

COURTNEY: On Friday, you told me that Jaida is getting IVF and Alyssa’s son is in rehab again

ROXY: Yeah and yet you tell me NOTHING

COURTNEY: LOL. Okay well when we’re telling people, I’ll tell you first. Deal?

ROXY: WHATEVER

*

ROXY: Another major delivery came for Fame’s asst from MC today

SHANNEL: OMG. BDR just came into Nina’s office in the weirdest mood. She was all smiley and she approved this dumb spread that Nina’s been pitching for 3 months.

ROXY: 21 year old pussy is good for the soul

SHANNEL: APPARENTLY

*

The second she could get up, Courtney raced to reception to grab the package, wondering what it could be. They’d put together a bunch of outfits with the stylist this weekend, most of which were still at Bianca’s--except for her ensemble for the party tomorrow, which was hanging in a garment bag on the coat rack, partially covered by Courtney’s jacket so as not to be too conspicuous.

When Roxy said “a big-ass box,” she wasn’t lying. Courtney’s eyes widened as she spotted the box, quickly taking it back to her own office, peeking inside while Fame was occupied with Raja. She pulled out the note first.

Stay warm. XX, B PS Don’t worry, the fur is faux

Extra curious now, Courtney reached into the box, lifting the tissue paper to see what was inside and finally just pulling it out--a beautiful, full-length, raspberry-colored winter coat with a fur-trimmed hood. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head as the utter extravagance of it all.

COURTNEY: OMG Bianca!

BIANCA: Do you like it?

COURTNEY: It’s beautiful! But it’s way too much. You’re spoiling me.

BIANCA: Get used to it ;)

Courtney smiled to herself, hiding the box under the table and standing to try on the coat, positively glowing with happiness. She glanced at herself in the mirror that Fame kept by the door for “last looks,” and saw that it fit her perfectly, even across her narrow shoulders, almost as if it was tailored to her body. Which...now that she thought about it, the stylist on Saturday had taken her measurements, so maybe it was.

Just then, the door to Fame’s office opened and Raja stepped out. Courtney whirled around, a guilty expression on her face.

“Oh are...are you done? I was, um...just going to get Miss Fame another coffee.”

“Yeah, we’re done for now, you should probably stick around. Nice coat,” Raja said, brushing past her on her way out. “I’ll be back at 2 to finish. Make sure she’s fed.”

“Okay, thank-” Courtney began, finishing with “-you,” just as Raja breezed from the room.

Courtney slowly removed her new coat, hanging it carefully on the rack before heading into Miss Fame’s office to ask what she wanted for lunch.

***

Bob closed the door to Trixie’s office behind him, making a beeline towards the coffee machine. It was mid afternoon, and while there still was a bit of a home stretch to go before the holiday break, the tough decisions ahead were out of his hands.

“All I’m saying Chachki,” Jovan smiled, the man leaning against the wall. He was wearing orange trumpet pants and a blue fuzzy sweater. “Is that I can totally bedazzle your crutches.”

“What an amazing offer,” Violet drawled, her tone completely dry.

“Hey guys!” Bob grinned, sliding in next to Maxwell, his boyfriend handing the cup he had just poured. “What are we talking about?”

“The Christmas Party,” Maxwell smiled, looking up at Bob who gave him a quick peck. He was wearing a pink shirt, the cotton stretched across his chest, the khakis he wore all year looking delicious on his pert little ass.

“Right!” Bob took a sip. The Galactica Christmas Party was one of the biggest fashion events in December, Miss Fame always going all out. Bob had heard rumors around town that there’d be gigantic ice sculptures, but Roxy had told him she had seen order confirmations for a forest of Christmas trees.

Some called him and Roxy the office gossip sluts, and if the name fit, Bob wasn’t going to complain.

“I haven’t decided what I’m wearing yet.” Violet was sitting on a chair, her curled hair fastened with a golden clip, her skirt just above her knees. “This is the first time I’m not going as Fame’s assistant and I don’t have to match her or blend into the background.”

That made sense, Bob really noticing how Violet’s wardrobe had shifted from the uptight prissy bitch who had first entered their floor, more color and sharp cuts showing up in Violet’s clothes as she got to express herself more and more.

“But since there’s a good chance she’ll actually look at me since I’m going with Sutan, I have to stay on theme without being flashy or cheap or one of the million other things she refuses to accept.”

“The bedazzling offer still stands,” Jovan smiled, taking the last bite of his afternoon muffin, and Violet rolled her eyes.

“How did you two meet anyway?” Maxwell took a sip of his coffee. “You and Sutan I mean.”

Bob perked up immediately, his stomach doing a happy flip.

“Oh?” Violet looked surprised, like she genuinely hadn’t expected them to be interested. “You want to hear about that?”

“Yes!” Bob grinned. “Yes yes yes yes.”

He and Maxwell had been discussing how to get Violet to spill the dirt the entire week, and now, the chance was finally here.

“Well.” Violet paused, tapping her fingers on the table, like she was trying to decide if she should share, and Bob was about to burst with curiosity.

“Spill it!”

“He bought me a drink at the Vogue Fashion Fund, and asked me on a date a few days later.”

Bob waited for a beat, but Violet was simply smiling.

“What?! That’s it?!”

Of all the things Bob had imagined, this was by far the most disappointing answer.

“Pretty much.” Violet shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee with a glint in her eyes.

***

IVY: okay so you know i hate gossip

ROXY: Oh yeah me too gurl

IVY: lol

IVY: No really

ROXY: Yeah yeah whatcha got?

IVY: The dress Courtney’s wearing today?

ROXY: Oh yeah, she’s really upping her game

IVY: Well...it’s familiar…

ROXY: Oh yeah?

IVY: I asked Laganja to run some photos. Here’s BDR at last year’s Monsoon Foundation Charity Luncheon

[Picture: Bianca wearing the dress]

ROXY: BITCH!!!!!!!!111

***

“So yeah, these are the ones I like...what do you think?” Trixie asked, chewing nervously on the inside of his cheek. “I really need to find someone that Fame will love, she was so annoyed at the last batch.”

As Pearl picked up one of the portfolios to glance through it, she couldn’t help but notice how rough her friend looked, like he hadn’t slept in a week. He probably hadn’t, she realized, the tension in the apartment so thick you could cut it with a knife. She’d been trying to give them both space, but maybe that wasn’t a good idea.

“So, um…” She looked through the first portfolio and then picked up the next one, pausing on pages she found interesting. “Is everything okay? How are you?”

“Uhh…” Trixie scratched his head, then finally said, “It’s been a hard week.”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“It’s okay,” Trixie sighed. “We’ve got our- She’s got an appointment with a doctor tomorrow. So I guess, after that, we’ll know for sure.”

“Right.”

He didn’t seem to want to talk about it any more, so Pearl dropped the subject for the moment. She pointed to one of the photos, a stunning blue piece with dramatic shoulders, exactly the type of shapes to which Fame was generally drawn.

“This is amazing.”

“Yeah, right? She seems super talented, although I worry that she’s only been out of school for less than a year. A little green, a little…” Trixie sighed again, “Over-confident sounds mean, but…over-confident.”

“Have you spoken to all of them yet?”

“Yeah, Rita checked all their references and I had Skype interviews with all the top candidates this morning. We’re trying to move quickly, I really need to get the ball rolling before we shut down for the holidays. And with the added bonus of getting them a visa...it could be a mess. Anyway, these are the very best, but I don’t want to put them in front of Fame unless they’re actually gonna impress her.”

“Uh huh. One question though…”

“Sure.”

“Are you looking for another sociopath, or are we moving in a new direction?” Pearl asked, a teasing smirk on her face.

“You’re hilarious,” Trixie deadpanned.

“I know.” Pearl tapped on the folder, saying, “I think this one is special. There’s a lot of range, and new ideas, but very classic and chic at the same time.”

***

“Ho...ly shit…” Bianca said, the door to her town car open, watching Courtney twirl in her new coat, then open it to give her a peek at the sexy sequined mini-dress underneath. Bianca pulled her into the car, giggling, a hand immediately sliding up her bare thigh.

She was mildly surprised when her fingers came into contact with soft cotton instead of the sexy lace she’d been wearing.

“Wow, these feel...breathable.”

Courtney laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m out of fancy underwear until my next trip to the laundromat. Sorry about it.”

“Nah, I like them. Reminds me of college.” She flashed a grin at Courtney, who was now straddling her on the leather seat, arms around her neck.

“Yeah?” Courtney tilted her head, teasingly evading a kiss as Bianca chased her lips.

“Mmm…” Bianca’s fingers slipped into the panties, squeezing her ass.

“I like this, too…” Bianca’s own coat was unbuttoned since the driver had the heat on full blast, and Courtney ran her thumb along the neckline of her blazer. “You look so sexy…”

Bianca said nothing, just gave her a wicked smirk, lips finally coming into contact with her neck, lingering there, hot breath against her pulse point making her whimper.

“We should probably wait until after the-” Courtney inhaled sharply, clutching Bianca’s shoulders. “-after the party.”

“Alright, alright…” Bianca acquiesced, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and removing her hands. “I can be good if you can.”

“Debatable,” Courtney responded, her eyes flashing with a naughty glint as she sat down beside Bianca, snuggling up against her.

“It’ll be a fun little experiment.”

***

Violet was standing in Sutan’s closet in her pajamas, flipping through her clothes, her lip between her teeth.

None of it looked right, and Violet had given up on even trying on the dress she had originally gotten to go as Fame’s assistant, the skirt's mermaid cut making it impossible to move in with her crutches.

If her foot hadn’t been broken, she would have trawled her preferred vintage shops weeks ago, or would even have made a dress herself, but the party was in two days, and because of Bianca’s birthday, she couldn’t even empty her savings account to get a dress that could live up to the expectations of a Galactica party.

She was completely, and utterly, fucked.

“Fuck,” Violet sighed, dumping down in the arm chair Sutan had been sweet enough to move to his closet so she could sit.

“Violet? Are you okay?”

Violet cursed to herself, Sutan naturally catching her at a moment where it absolutely did not suit her.

“I’m okay!”

But of course, it wasn’t in Sutan’s nature to leave her alone, her boyfriends head poking through the door seconds later, a concerned expression on his dumb face.

“What’s gotten into you?” Sutan was fresh from the shower, his black and grey hair in an unstyled cloud around his head.

“You’re going to laugh.” Violet crossed her arms, the annoyance still under her skin, rolling around her body.

“Try me.” Sutan stepped inside, a towel wrapped around his hips, his hand holding it in place.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

Sutan snorted, and Violet pointed at him.

“See!” She exclaimed. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“Okay, okay, I admit that wasn’t my greatest moment,” Sutan chuckled, giving her a quick apology kiss, Violet sinking back into the chair as he walked over to his dresser. “but the good news is that your problem is easily fixable.”

“I can’t just go out and buy a new dress.” Violet tried not to roll her eyes, tried not to make this a fight, but it was like Sutan had decided to press every single button she had. “I can’t afford it.”

Sure, she had gotten a pay bump after moving to design, but she had already used her December budget on Christmas gifts for everyone, actually spending the day with people so much more expensive than what she usually did, which was a movie on her ancient laptop and wine by herself.

“Who says you have to pay for it?” Sutan pulled a pair of pajama pants out, throwing his towel to the side, now naked which would have been weird if Violet hadn’t been used to years of dressing rooms. “I’m planning on getting a new suit anyway,” Sutan balanced on one leg, pulling the pants on, “and the shoppers at Barney’s are great at what they do.”

“Are you serious?”

“What makes you think I’m not?”  Violet watched as Sutan pulled a t-shirt on too, running a hand through the hair Violet knew he’d struggle to style in the morning, but that he was also done dealing with it for the night.

“I don’t want your money.” Violet sighed, sitting up in the chair, Sutan finally ready for bed.

She liked staying with Sutan, she really did, the man kinder and more generous than Violet could ever have imagined, but she was also longing to go back to her own place, to have her own space and to spend time completely alone.

She knew her apartment wasn’t much, that it didn’t have air condition or an elevator, that she didn’t have a memory foam mattress or a dishwasher or a housekeeper that came to clean, but it was hers.

Violet knew a psychiatrist would probably consider her need for independence a flaw, something she should work on, but she didn’t want to rely on anyone ever, not even Sutan.

“I can figure it out.”

“Oh that, I don’t doubt,” Sutan smiled, holding a hand out to help Violet out of the chair. “But there is a difference,” Sutan pulled, his hand finding her hip as soon as she was upright. “Between being prideful and being stubborn, lovely eyes.”

Violet shot him a look, and Sutan laughed, giving her nose a quick kiss.

“I’m offering to buy you dresses, not a penthouse.”

Violet opened her mouth to protest, but for once, Sutan was faster.

“You’re going to several parties for my sake. Let me spend money on you.” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s hip. “Please?”

“I’ll consider it.”

***

Being at this elite music industry party with Bianca was thrilling, and Courtney was on cloud nine. She was beside herself with excitement when she got to meet Charlie Hides, unable to stop herself from gushing about her work on Tove Lo’s album.

“Well thank you, darling,” Charlie said.

“Courtney’s a singer too,” Bianca added, and Charlie’s face perked up a bit.

“Oh yeah?”

“Well, aspiring,” Courtney couldn’t help admitting, immediately kicking herself for her inability to fake it.

“She’s incredibly talented,” Bianca said, a hand touching Courtney’s elbow, grounding her.

“You should send me your demo,” Charlie said, picking up two glasses of champagne from a passing tray and handing them over.

“Really? Thank you so much!” Courtney exclaimed, momentarily forgetting that she didn’t have a demo.

“Sure thing,” Charlie said with a grin, before excusing herself to greet another guest. Before she left, she gave Bianca a hug, muttering, “Very cute, B.”

After she walked away, Bianca turned to Courtney with a smirk. “She’s subtle, huh?”

“I think I’m gonna pass out,” Courtney said, and Bianca squeezed her hand.

“You’ll be fine. You’re doing great,” she assured her. “I see another producer I know, let’s say hello. Olivia!”

She waved across the party to a beautiful Black woman with the most fabulous hair Courtney had ever seen in her life. The woman looked up, sending Bianca a beaming smile as she crossed the room to greet her.

“Bianca!”

“Hey Liv, I haven’t seen you in forever!” Bianca said, giving her a hug.

“I know! I’ve been in L.A. for most of the year. Just decided to come back to New York in time for this delightful gray sleet we’ve been having,” Olivia said, that dazzling smile softening her words.

Bianca laughed, turning to Courtney.

“Court, Olivia Lux is an awesome producer. Liv, this my friend Courtney. She’s a singer.”

“Hi!” Courtney prepared for a handshake or some air kisses, only to be swept up into a warm hug. “So nice to meet you!”

“Charlie wants to hear a demo, but she hasn’t gotten the chance to record anything yet,” Bianca said. “Any chance you’re free? Or are you still booked up solid until the end of days?”

“No, I’ve got some time in January. What kind of music do you do, sweetie?” Olivia asked, turning to Courtney with that lovely smile.

“Um… Well, I guess it’s kind of like… Pop, but kind of folk?” Courtney said, trying to think on her feet.  “Like Joni Mitchell meets Kylie Minogue?”

“Sounds absolutely glorious!” Olivia said, and Courtney felt her confidence grow. “I know what it’s like when you’re starting out. That shit is terrifying.”

“I’m gonna go grab us some drinks…You two have fun,” Bianca said, leaving Courtney Olivia to talk shop.

After a couple of minutes, Courtney found herself feeling like she was with an old friend. She was just so warm and open, telling Courtney about her own career as first a recording artist, then a producer and composer, making her feel completely at ease--and shockingly interested in Courtney’s own musical taste. When Bianca returned with three cocktails, Olivia put an arm around Courtney and told her, “I’m in love with your friend.”

“Oh yeah?” Bianca said, amused. She handed them both drinks, adding, “Glad you guys are getting along.”

“Getting along? We’re gonna elope,” Olivia said, and Courtney giggled, smiling brightly, happy to have found someone so kind and down to earth.

“Mazel Tov,” said Bianca, giving Courtney a wink.

“Seriously though,” Olivia said, turning to flash Courtney that megawatt smile again. “Why don’t you hit me up and we’ll arrange for you to come into the studio?”

“That would be amazing!” said Courtney. She was so happy, she had to fight an urge to kiss the bottom of Olivia’s glittery heels.

“Perfect!” Olivia said, leaving them both with another round of hugs.

“That went well,” Bianca said, smirking at Courtney over the top of her glass.

“Yeah!”

“Come on, I want you to meet my friend Derrick. She’s a choreographer…”

Later, after about the 20th intro, Courtney began to catch on to a troubling pattern.

“Hey guys! This is my friend Courtney…”

“Meet my friend Courtney…”

“Courtney’s a friend of my sister.”

Friend, friend, friend...

At no point, to anyone, did Bianca say (or even imply) that there was something going on between them-- and Courtney wasn’t sure what to make of it. It wasn’t like she expected for Bianca to call her “my girlfriend.”

They hadn’t had that conversation, and something told Courtney that after tonight, it was a long way off.

She tried to put it right out of her head, though, and focus on the positive. She was at a great party, meeting a ton of music industry professionals, and yeah, maybe Bianca called her “friend” about 800 times, but friends were good, right? Especially considering how much Bianca loved her friends.

She continued to enjoy herself, greeting people, trying her best to learn their names, and just being grateful that Bianca had even brought her through the door. So what if she didn’t want people to know about their relationship? Or if this was just a casual fling for her? She was still doing more for Courtney and being more supportive than anyone she’d ever known.

It was close to 2 am when Bianca put a hand on her lower back and leaned in close--the most intimate gesture since they’d walked in the door.

“You ready to take off?” Bianca whispered.

“Sure,” Courtney said, slightly relieved since she could feel her own energy fading, and knew that making it to work by 7:45 the next day would be a struggle.

They said goodbye to Charlie and grabbed their coats, making their way downstairs to the waiting towncar. It wasn’t until they were on their way that Courtney really let everything hit her, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I…” Courtney swallowed.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“You sure about that? What’s wrong?”

Courtney shook her head vigorously as traitorous tears slipped down her cheek. “Nothing’s wrong, everything’s perfect.” She wiped her face, disgusted with herself.

“Then why are you crying, angel?”

“Because…” Courtney squeezed her eyes shut,  positive that she was about to ruin everything. “Because you’re just…making all my dreams come true.”

“Okay. Yeah, I can see how that would be upsetting.”

“No, it’s just…I'm scared, that it’s all gonna disappear,” Courtney said, now unable to hold back the river of tears. “You’re gonna get bored, or meet someone else, and I…I’m falling for you so hard and I know it’s too fast and I-”

“Hey, look at me.”

Courtney turned to her, eyes liquid, sniffling.

“I have been having…the best time with you,” she said, taking one of Courtney’s hands in both of hers. “And I know that it’s still new, but I said that I’d help you with your career and I will. No matter what happens with us. I promise. And I don’t break promises. Okay?”

Courtney nodded slightly, then asked, “Why don’t you want people to know about us? Are you ashamed? Are you just...already looking for a way out?”

“What?”

“You just kept introducing me as your ‘friend’ all night, and I just thought that it meant you don’t care about us, or that-”

“No! I dunno, I guess we haven’t really talked about labels, and I wanted to make sure everyone took you seriously,” Bianca said. “Took your talent seriously.”

“Oh.” Courtney sniffled, feeling a little stupid for letting her insecurites get the better of her.

“Also…you know, a lot of the people there were…mutual friends of…”

“Of?”

Bianca sighed slightly, a sheepish smile on her face, then said, “I guess it’s time to come clean to Fame and Raja, huh?”

“Really?” Courtney looked at her with surprise.

“Well, yeah. I don’t want us to feel like we’re sneaking around. That shit gets old real fast.” Bianca kissed the back of her hand. “I’ve been selfish, I was trying to do this without getting them annoyed at me, but…It’s not worth it if it makes you feel like I don’t care. Because I do.”

Courtney bit her lip, feeling like she might burst into tears again, but this time from joy. She took a deep breath, trying to get her racing heart to calm down.

“When do you want to tell them?”

“Well…the Galactica party’s on Thursday. Wanna be my date?” Bianca asked, a sly smile deepening her dimples.

Of course, they’d both been planning to go to the party, but Courtney had resigned herself to the idea that they’d be there separately. She’d even asked Tati to come as her plus one, not believing for a second that going with Bianca was a possibility. After all, it was so soon.

“That’s in two days!” Courtney exclaimed, eyes wide.

“Yeah… Does that work for you?”

For a second, Courtney felt almost dizzy, imagining walking into the party on Bianca’s arm. There was no way in hell that it wouldn’t cause a stir...but the idea of everyone seeing them together, while a bit frightening, was also terribly exciting.

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds...perfect,” she said, eyes shining happily.

“Okay then,” Bianca said softly, pressing a kiss to Courtney’s cheek.

[royallyjoon]

red light magic iii

i’ve lost all ambition

for wordly acclaim...

i just want to be the one you love...

—

It’s colder today, you thought to yourself.

After your last class, you made the short walk to Elizabeth Juno, the building which held the majority of Karu’s art classes.

It was short, but impressive. The tinted glass walls made it difficult for you to see whether Jungkook was waiting for you inside or not. You hesitated a bit in front of the door but decided to enter and flashed your ID at the security guard, taking a seat on a bench.

Even from here, you could smell the paint from the main classrooms and whispers of professors explaining major art pieces. Elizabeth Juno radiated creativity, and with it the confidence its students had to pursue and work upon their craft.

About ten minutes later, waves of students began leaving their classrooms. You listened to their chatter as friends met up with each other, complaining about some project or other that would soon be due for their portfolios. The loneliness hit you once more, but disappeared just as fast as it appeared.

A tap on your shoulder made you look up. Jungkook drew his hand back to his side, smiling. “Distracted?”

You returned his smile and shook your head, shoving headphones into bookbags. “Nah...well, maybe. I was just taking in the energy Juno gave me.”

Jungkook laughed in understanding. “Yeah, she’s pretty inspiring, isn’t she?”

You walked out of the building into the cool, September breeze.

“Why did you want to meet up?” You asked, tucking your phone into your pocket.

“You said you can’t go back into your dorm, and your roommate won’t be back until late, right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“I wanted to ask if you would be wiling to come back to my apartment? Well, our apartment.”

You paused. “Like....with Namjoon and Yoongi and Hoseok and Mr. Kim?”

“And Jimin and Taehyung, yeah. I don’t think Jin hyung would mind an addition to the dinner table. And you’ve seen all of us around campus one way or another, so you could get to know us more formally?It’s just if you want to, though.”

You hummed, then continued walking. Would you rather go to the library until dark, clicking around on your laptop until you inevitably gave up on trying to be productive and started watching videos, or get closer to the one group of guys you manage to talk to on campus?

“If you’re sure the others wouldn’t mind, I’d love to come over.” You nodded.

Jungkook grinned. “Great! I’ll let everyone know.”

~~~~~~~~~~

jungkook opened “🅱️angtan’s 🅱️ussy”

jungkook: hey, (y/n)’s coming over. hope you cleaned 🤙🏼

old man is typing...

hobi hyung is typing....

loml is typing....

vante: ok

jiminie is typing...

old man: I’m cooking right now, thanks for the heads up

jiminie: 👀

loml: where are you guys right now?

hobi hyung: my room is always clean, the rest of you need to get your lives together

jungkook: we’re walking back from Juno, I’ll bring her back on my bike

old man: be careful! she’s probably not used to it

vante: he just wants to show off 😛 probably looking forward to her wrapping her arms around him

jiminie: ahhh~ so romantic

hobi hyung: much romance ^~^

lil meow meow is typing...

lil meow meow: why is she coming over?

jungkook: she forgot her keys this morning and her roommates won’t be coming back to the dorm until late

jungkook: it’s fine, she’ll just come over and eat

jungkook: we’ll bring her back by 11 so she has enough time to get back to the dorm before curfew

old man: I can send her home with leftovers😋

lil meow meow: ok

~~~~~~~~~~

“What did they say?” You peek at his screen without seeing anything, curious as to what their reaction would be.

“They’re cool with it! You’re ours for the evening.”

You smile and look down, blushing a bit at the concrete.

If only you had known the power behind the words,

the viciousness that was soon come to pass...

perhaps you would have trapped yourself just the same.

—————————————-

“...no.”

“(Y/N)!”

“Jeon!”

Jungkook pouted as you paced back and forth before him, leaning on his bike. You were not prepared for the certain method of transportation Jungkook had in his possession. Upon seeing the completely black motorcycle in the school parking lot, you thought it was cool but never expected to get on it yourself.

“Come on, you have nothing to be afraid of!” Jungkook patted the space beside him.

You stopped pacing in favor of staring him down. His brown eyes shone with mischief behind strands of long, curly black locks.

“How long have you been riding?”

“Hmm...this was a 16th birthday present, so around two years?”

You shook your head and paced some more.

“Are you sure it can take two people? I’m not too light,” you said.

“First of all, you are perfect.” Jungkook said. “Second of all, I have managed to ride to school with both Jimin and Taehyung on the back, and I’m still here today! And so is Charlie. She can handle it.”

Silence for a few more minutes. Then, you huffed. “Alright, Charlie. Be gentle.”

Jungkook turned on the bike so that his back was facing the handlebars, holding an extra helmet in his hands. He waited as you placed one leg over the side of the bike and lowered yourself into the seat.

It’s a good thing I didn’t wear a skirt today, you thought to yourself. You had nothing against the clothing, but you did not want your first time on the bike to be in a skirt and/or heels.

Jungkook gently placed the helmet on your head and adjusted the straps accordingly. “Does it feel tight enough?”

“Can you make it just a little tighter? Just in case...”

Jungkook cheesed at your catiousness. “Of course, does that feel better?”

You gave him a thumbs up. He slipped your bag off your shoulders and placed it in the back of the bike along with his.

Jungkook stood and turned so that he was properly facing the front of the motorcycle.

You had seen and read enough books to know what comes next, but you didn’t want to seem to forward. Jungkook finished adjusting his helmet straps and snapped the visor into place. He reached behind him, gently picking up your hands and placing them around his midsection.

“Oh my God, are you sure? I don’t want to strangle you.” You asked so seriously he burst into laughter.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. No one is as much of a cobra as Jimin hyung. Are you ready?”

You steeled your sneakers against the platforms on either side of the motorcycle and held on to Jungkook a little tighter. “I guess.”

He let the bike stand properly and off you two sped.

———————————

“Namjoon-ah!” Seokjin hollered. He finished cooking and was now wiping down the dinner table. “Come set the table!”

“How come (Y/N) gets all this special treatment?” Namjoon grumbled, barely awake from his afternoon nap. “The last time we ate you gave us plastic utensils and paper plates.” He grabbed the silverware from the cabinets and started setting the table for eight.

“That’s because I didn’t feel like washing the dishes that night, which I know you all would have left me to do. Nor am I washing them tonight.” Seokjin slammed the washcloth onto the side of the sink.

“Is Kookie on his way?” Taehyung bounced down the stairs in a hoodie and some sweatpants. He walked into the kitchen. “Ah, is dinner ready?”

Namjoon chuckled as he heard a loud smack, Seokjin’s preaching, and Taehyung’s whining.

“Go make yourself more presentable.” The older chided. “I live with a bunch of heathens.”

Namjoon finished up downstairs and went to “change” (read: lie down for a few more minutes).

He snuck into Yoongi’s room, plopped down in front of him, and got under the covers. The older muttered something that Namjoon did not hear before promptly passing out.

About twenty minutes later, Seokjin heard the revving of an engine down the block.

“THEY’RE COMING!” the eldest hollered, taking the food off the stove.

Jimin, relaxing in the living room, brushed his pink hair from his forehead and stood. “Hyung, relax, they’re not the SWAT team.”

“Go wake up your brothers. Why is everyone always sleeping in this house?” Seokjin asked incredulously,

Jimin hopped upstairs, threw open the door to Taehyung’s room, and pounced. “It’s time to wake up!” He playfully shouted as he threw himself onto his soulmate.

Taehyung groaned and tried to push his friend off of him, but Jimin wouldn’t budge. “You should change before Jin hyung gets mad.” Jimin giggled.

“Okay, okay I’m up...”

Jimin annoyed him some more before leaving for Yoongi’s room. He opened the door more quietly, peeking in to see what was Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi all cuddling on the bed.

At some point in their nap, Hoseok had walked in, gotten into the bed on the other side of Yoongi, and fallen asleep as well.

Jimin took a couple of pictures before shaking the three awake.

Yoongi wasn’t even surprised at seeing Namjoon and Hoseok in his bed. He yawned and stretched before going to his drawers. “Yah, Namjoon, Hoseok, get up.”

The other two turned into the now empty space. “Why are you two so tired? You don’t even do anything,” Yoongi muttered.

“I stayed up writing lyrics again,” Namjoon spoke into the comforter. 

“I was practicing until 3 am.” Hoseok groaned.

Yoongi snorted. “Sounds like your problem, not mine. Get out of bed and go change. Before I get the water.”

The twenty four year olds glared at their companion before lifting themselves off his bed and trudging off to their rooms.

“You’d better not fall asleep in there, either! Wash up!”

—————————————

Jungkook parked the motorcycle, letting it stand on its side. He all but whipped his helmet off and turned to face you. “So? How was it?”

You placed a foot on the concrete, lifting the other off the platform and swinging that leg over the side of the bike. Once both of your feet were on the ground, you collapsed.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Jungkook threw his helmet on a handlebar and got off his motorcycle. He could see your lips moving but couldn’t tell exactly what you were saying.

“Sweet...sweet ground...” you whispered.

Jungkook undid the straps and took off your helmet. “Oh, stop being so dramatic. It was fun, wasn’t it?”

You huffed. “Sure. Speeding through the intersection at the last second of the yellow light was the best part, especially with that huge semi approaching. I love staring down headlights.”

Jungkook cackled and handled you your bag. “That was the least dangerous part of this evening.” He lent out a hand and you grabbed his to stand up.

“Oh really? Thanks for the warning.” You swung your bag strap over your shoulder and fixed your hair.

You turned to Jungkook with a smile. “Let’s go!”

The apartment was on the second floor with a wooden door. Jungkook pulled out a key ring and opened the door, holding it open for you. “Welcome to our humble abode.”

—————————————————————————

Walking in, you were hit immediately with the smell of delicious, homecooked food.

As Jungkook locked the door, you took your shoes off. “Is it okay if I walk around in my socks or...?”

“You can wear my slippers—they’re the black and blue ones. I have another pair upstairs.”

You grinned in relief, thankful for his offer and for the fact that they fit. “Thank you!”

Jungkook took your bag, placing it on a hook near the door. “We’re home!��� He hollered.

They might not have noticed it, but the familiarity with which he said that sentence felt....

so right.

Jungkook would never be able to come home without recalling how wonderful the “we” tasted on his lips.

Seokjin walked out of the kitchen carrying a platter. “Right on time! Welcome, (Y/N)! I didn’t know if you were allergic to anything or not, so I have a mix of cultural dishes and regular dinner foods. I hope you enjoy.”

“Oh, thank you so much Mr. Kim! You didn’t have to do so much for me...” you whispered the last part, standing unsure of yourself in the kitchen.

“Trust me, to feed this hoard, I do. And please, call me Jin.”

or Oppa

You nodded. “Is there a bathroom I could use to wash my hands?”

“Down this hallway, second door on the right.” Jungkook directed you. You thanked him and quietly padded down the hallway.

Jin and Jungkook’s eyes trailed you, fixed upon your back.

Once Jin heard the door close, he hollered once more but in Korean. “If you’re not all downstairs by the time (Y/N) leaves the bathroom, you don’t eat!”

You washed your hands, dried them, and opened the door to the hallway bathroom. There were a lot more brightly colored heads downstairs now. You steeled your nerves, walking to the dinner table.

Jin sat at the head of the table with Yoongi at the other end. Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok sat on one side and Namjoon and Jungkook on the other with a space left between them.

The group chorused welcomes as you approached the table. “I just wanted to thank you all again for letting me come over. You have a lovely home.”

“Aish, it’s nothing! It’s about time we all sat together for a meal.” Hoseok grinned and ushered for you to sit.

“Yeah, you know pretty much everyone here except for me, Jin hyung and Taehyungie.” Jimin said.

“Ah, I’m sorry for that, sunbaes! I have been hoping to see you around campus more.” You felt bad, but your schedules hardly allowed each other meet up.

“How about you come to dance club sometime? Hoseok hyung and I will be there!” Jimin offered.

You nodded. “Text me the time and location; I’ll definitely try to make it!”

“You’ll be seeing me a lot more in English, Ms. (L/N). Karu’s officially hiring me as a TA.” Jin dropped as he took a sip of water.

Your face brightened as Jungkook’s dropped. “Ah, really? I hope all my essays go to you for grading then!”

They laughed the comment off, all thinking the same thing.

“I could get used to this...

...forever.”

—————————————————————————

(A/N): Ah, I’m sorry for taking SO LONG between chapters! I really didn’t want to just stop here for you guys! The good things are coming any update now; thank you for being patient and showing support :)

[yungimmortals]

phone numbers | jaime (ft. risa)

date: december 26, 2020

summary: a long-overdue phone call, a heavy dose of salt in an old wound, and a very low battery

An unknown number flashed across his screen. Never one to pick up the phone unless he absolutely had to (and definitely not one to pick up when he didn’t recognize the caller), Jaime let it go to voicemail, tossing his phone onto his bed. 

Swiveling in his desk chair, he spin in a full circle before returning his focus to  the project he had been working on since getting back to his apartment earlier that evening. Christmas with Katie’s family had been fun; now it was time for Jaime to recharge. Restoring a vintage typewriter -- Jaime’s Christmas present to himself -- was the perfect thing to do. In the last hour, he had polished it, ridding the typewriter of years of rust and grime. All the type-levers were in place, all the knobs and buttons in working condition. Now it was time to work on the carriage lever and the platen, time to get the machine ready for writing. 

Dismantling his typewriter was a delicate process, interrupted again by the ringing of his phone. “Where is it?” He mumbled, turning is his chair and taking a dive at the bed when he spotted his phone. Snatching it up, he recognized the same number that had called earlier but was saved the trouble of a debate as to whether or not he should answer it when his screen went dark once more. A moment later, a voicemail notification flashed across his screen.

Curiosity piqued, Jaime unlocked his phone, raising it to his ear to listen to the voicemail. The last voice he expected to hear drifted out of the phone’s speakers and he dropped it in surprise. 

Jaime, it’s me. I need to talk to you. I hope this is still your number.

Without hesitation, he returned the call. There was one ring, then two, then three. Jaime bounced his leg up and down before spinning around in his desk chair, his stomach a pit of nerves. As the line continued to ring, he was almost positive he had imagined the voicemail. But then there was an audible click, followed by the sound of his sister’s voice.

“So this is your number. Rowan’s handwriting is absolute shit, I couldn’t tell if that last number was a seven or a four. Can’t believe she wants to go to art school with that chicken scratch.”

“Risa?”  

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, I, er. That is-”

His sister’s laughter sounded tinny, far away. “Jaime, relax. Oh, and Merry Christmas. Did you get our card?”

Jaime switched the call to speaker phone and placed his phone on his desk. He stared at it blankly before scrubbing his face with his hands. “Card?”

“Yeah, Ro made you a Christmas card in her risography workshop. She’s building her portfolio for college but I’m sure she told you that since you talk, like, all the time.” Risa sounded bitter as she spoke, changing the subject quickly. “Anyway, I need to talk to you about something. Is this a good time?”

In eight years, his middle sister had never once called of her own volition. Even convincing her to be a part of Jaime and Rowan’s ‘family phone calls’, had taken a few years of their littlest sister badgering her. Now Risa was calling and it sounded important and Jaime couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He must have been silent for too long, he realized, hearing his sister clear her throat.

“Jay, if you’re busy, just tell me. I’ll find another time,” she said, though from her tone, Jaime could tell that if they didn’t talk about what was on her mind now, they likely never would.

“No! I mean, no, I’m not busy. I was just-- yeah, no, I’m here. What-- what’s up?” Jaime pushed his typewriter to the side before rummaging through his desk drawer for a notebook and pen (just in case he needed to take notes). He chuckled as Risa told him to buckle up, already welcoming the familiarity with which she was speaking to him, no matter how strange it felt.

“This isn’t what I’m calling about but I might as well tell you while we’re here. Dad’s sick. He said you cursed him or some shit, but it’s all bull. He went off the deep end a few years ago. Totally cuckoo. I figured you didn’t know, since you and Ro have your stupid agreement to never mention Charles to each other. Says he’s seeing things. Monsters and shit. Which I would call bull, but I remember that creepy guy. You know, the one waiter at the Dog & Pony that would always stare at you and Mom when we all went for dinner? He only had one eye. I don’t mean like an eyepatch. I mean one freaking eye, right in the center of his head. Don’t know if you ever noticed that, but I did.” Now that Risa had started talking, it seemed she couldn’t stop. “And that’s not the last time I saw something or someone weird like that. There’s a girl who works at the nature center in the park and I swear, Jay. I freaking swear that she melts into the trees. She’s a dryad right? I got lunch with your aunt last week and she filled me in on some stuff. I don’t know how she got in touch with us. Said something about your dad, I don’t remember. But, anyway, we got lu-”

“My aunt?” Jaime interrupted, feeling guilty for doing so, but not seeing where he could get a word in edgewise if he waited for her to pause.

“Oh, shit. Wait, there’s a picture, did I mention a picture? Before I forget. It’s with your card. I was digging through some of Mom’s trail crew stuff in the attic a while back, looking for her old boots, and I found it. It says ‘David’ with a heart next to it on the back. That was his name, right? Your dad?”

Jaime blinked, surprised at both the abrupt subject change and the mention of his father. He didn’t want the subject of his aunt to drop but the photograph won his curiosity. “Yeah, that’s him.”

“Okay, so you’ll see it, but, like, it’s totally weird. There’s a lens flare on it but it’s, like, just across your dad. Kinda ruins the whole picture, you can’t see him at all. It’s like when you try to take a photo of the sun. Mom looks beautiful though, but she always did. I think they were at Otter Cove, and I know that was one of your favorite trails.”

Like trying to photograph the sun. Jaime almost laughed. Risa had no idea how close to the truth she was. Which reminded him, “You had lunch with my aunt?”

“Dude, yeah. And she’s, like, so cool. If you’re related to so many cool people -- myself and Ro included, obviously -- how did you turn out like this?” 

He could hear Risa laugh on the other line and just rolled his eyes. He glanced down at his notebook where he’d written a collection of words: cursed, Cyclops, dryads in Acadia? The latter was underlined several times, whether from surprise or excitement, Jaime couldn’t remember. He realized his sister had started speaking again. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” 

“I was saying, if you were paying attention, that we went to Geddy’s -- that veg place on Main? -- for lunch and she was telling me about some fancy neo-classical city? New Athens or some shit like that, I think. In New York. Is that where you live? Ro told me you were like, weirdly into Greek mythology one time. But honestly, that tracks with some of the stuff I’ve seen. Hey, how come your aunt was looking for me, not you? She said something about mist but it was. like, not even a foggy day. We could see out over the harbor. Crystal clear.”

“The Mist,” Jaime correctly automatically, then pinched the bridge of his nose. The list in his notebook grew longer as their call stretched on. “I don’t know,” he admitted, in response to Risa’s question about his aunt. “Did she tell you her name?”

“Artemis? Which I was like hello, weird, since I was literally just thinking about you and your Greek mythology phase. I asked if she was David’s sister and she said ‘if that’s what he’s calling himself now’. Do estranged siblings run in your side of the family or something?”

At that, Jaime made a choking sound, staring at his phone. The resulting crow of laughter from his sister made it clear that she’d been expecting, no, hoping for that reaction. 

“Just messing with you, Jay. Relax. Anyway. She’s got this, like, wild grrl gang of hikers that travel the country? Gave me a pamphlet, told me to consider it. She said I could tell Rowan too, but when I did, Ro didn’t seem to care at all. She’s just got art school on the brain, I think. Your aunt had told me that would happen, said that the Mist was thicker around our sweet baby sister. But, uh, do you know what the Mist is? I’m, like, pretty sure you do since you corrected me a minute ago.”

“I-”

“Yeah that’s what I thought. So anyway, Aunt Artemis said you’re a demigod. Guess your dad’s name isn’t really David, huh? Last I checked, there’s no Greek god of boring dad names. Care to fill me in? Is that why I’ve seen some weird, like, mythological creatures around the harbor when we were growing up? Oh and Grandma Hana says hi.”

A distressed sound escaped Jaime’s lips. He had forgotten his sister’s habit of bouncing from subject to subject and here it was, smacking him in the face with more new information than he could handle at the moment. Christmas wishes had been exchanged with his grandmother the day before, so he didn’t have to worry about acknowledging that topic, thankfully. His brain was working in overdrive and he could practically feel Risa’s impatience, the longer he was silent.

“Jaime,” she prompted. 

He sighed, massaging his temples as he stared down at his phone. “His name isn’t David, it’s Apollo. Artemis’ brother. They aren’t named after the Greek gods, they are the Greek gods. So yes, that makes me a demigod. And it sounds like...you can probably see through the Mist. At least a little more than most mortals.”

“Holy shit. And you never thought ‘hey maybe I should tell my sister this super freaking weird but also totally cool thing about me’? What the shit, Jaime!”

He opened his mouth to tell her that he hadn’t known until after he left, until after he read the letter their mother had left for him, but Risa was steamrolling ahead.

“Wait...wait, so that was the Artemis? Your aunt is the Artemis? And she- and she invited me to join her immortal Hunt?” He heard a muffled shriek, like she had covered the receiver with her hand. A small smile spread across his face. “Well, I’m saying yes...obviously.”

“Okay, hold on a second there. That’s a big decision, don’t you think you shou-”

“Oh no, no. I’m going to stop you right there. You don’t get to play the big brother card here, Jay. You don’t get to keep secrets for years and then tell me I need to think about accepting an offer from a goddess. And don’t say some shit about me looking after Rowan. She doesn’t need anyone to look after her. You’d know that if you were here. Honestly, she does a better job looking after me than I do her. Shit, wait. Does that mean Dad’s not crazy? Did you really make all those people sick all the time? Did you...make Mom sick? Isn’t Apollo the god of healing?”

“I wasn’t playing the big brother card!” He protested weakly. As she continued, Jaime blanched. Several times. First at the mention of his absence, then at the mention of Charles’ theories, and again at the mention of their mother. “I’m sorry,” he started, hoping Risa understood that he was apologizing for leaving. They would have more time to unpack that later, he figured. 

"Charles is definitely still crazy. I didn’t make all those people sick. Mom either. I, uh, I only did it once. Made someone sick, I mean. It was a boy that bullied me at school during the years Mom was sick and Charles wouldn’t listen to me about it. One day the kid was beating me up and hitting me and, and I, I don’t know what happened. I pushed him and pushed? I don’t know, energy? At him, and I gave him the chicken pox or something, at least I think that’s what the school said. Chicken pox,” he scoffed, ducking his head, despite the fact that Risa couldn’t see him. “He’s the god of many things. Music, the arts, the sun. Healing, yeah, but plague and illness is the flip side of that.”

“Like the plague arrows he shot at the Greeks. Before you say anything, yes, I’ve read the Iliad. And The Song of Achilles, which, if you haven’t read it, you have to.” As if realized she’d gotten off track, Risa was quiet for a moment. Jaime was thankful she didn’t push him on the subject of his powers; he wasn’t sure what he would have said if she had. When his sister spoke again, she sounded farther away, her voice detached. “Artemis told me there are other children of Apollo. You have other family.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation -- that was clear. When Jaime answered, he sounded tired. “I do, yeah.” Though his sister couldn’t see it, his expression was one of regret. “But it’s, it’s not like that, Ris.”

“I didn’t ask what it was like,” she snapped. After a moment of tense silence, he could hear her sigh. “I’m going to contact Artemis. Learn as much about your world as she’ll tell me. And then I’m going to join the Hunt.”

With a click, the line went dead. 

Jaime stared at his phone in silence until the screen darkened, battery dead as well. He heaved a sigh, detangling himself from his desk chair to plug his phone into the cord on his nightstand to charge. So much for recharging, he thought to himself, knowing his own battery was dangerously low. Exhaling a groan, Jaime sunk onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling once more. To the constellations on his ceiling, he murmured, “That went about as well as it could have, all thing considered.”

[raywritesthings]

Mamihlapinatapei\Lauriver

Thanks for the prompt, and I hope you enjoy this!

Should Have Been Her

Summary: In light of an early breakup between Oliver and Felicity, Alex can’t help reflecting on his boss’ choices in regards to relationships... especially when he can see the obvious.*Can also be read on my AO3 or FFN, links are in bio*

This job was going to be the death of him, Alex thought tohimself. “What do you mean Felicity won’t do it?”

“We had a fight about, uh, an old boyfriend of hers… andalso about her mom, I guess, last week,” Oliver said, looking undeniably wornout. He had to wonder how many nights the man had been sleeping on the couch.

“It’s not going to look great if you show up to a lunch withprospective endorsers without your own plus one.”

“I’ll just take Thea with me.”

“Thea’s booked for an interview with Williams in the samehour block, can’t do it,” Alex reminded him. He held his hand out for his boss’phone. “Look, I’ll call Felicity if you want.”

“She’s really not going to want that.”

Oh, so this was a serious possible break-up type situation.Just great. He hadn’t exactly been impressed with the candidate’s girlfriend;her inability to show up for meetings and the casualness with which she seemedto throw the campaign money had always struck him as flighty and poorlymanaged. But people liked a pretty, smiling face, and not having one on his armmight make people sour on Oliver. At least they weren’t engaged; that wouldmake things easier to spin.

Alex’s thoughts were so preoccupied with the work he wasgoing to have to do that he nearly missed Oliver’s next suggestion.

“Laurel might be free.”

“Laurel?” Alex wasn’t quite able to keep the strain out ofhis voice.

Oliver fixed him with a look. “She’s a part of the team, andshe honestly knows the ins and outs of this kind of stuff better than I do.I’ll give her a call.”

Despite Alex hoping and praying that the DA’s office beincredibly swamped with work that afternoon, Laurel was able to give them herlunch hour. So she was coming to meet with the union bosses.

Although, if he’d given more than a thought to her familybackground, he might have realized that could prove a boon.

“Laurel, how are you?” Boomed Larry Carmine, the Presidentof Star City’s Police Guild. He went in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek,which Laurel accepted with a smile. “Quentin says things are running prettynicely between the offices.”

“We try to keep communication channels open. Best way tokeep the system running. How’s Abby?”

“She’s just fine. Finished pre-med last semester.” Carmineturned to Oliver and shook his hand next. “Oliver Queen. Full of surprises,aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am.” The group all sat down, Oliver pulling outLaurel’s chair for her. She smiled up at him, and he returned it before takinghis own seat.

Alex motioned to the waiter hovering at the edge of theirprivate room to bring out the pre-ordered food. These were busy people afterall, so they hadn’t wanted to keep them waiting.

“I have to say, I should have expected you two to getinvolved in politics,” President Raynes of the Local 27 said after they’d allmade significant progress on their meals. The former fire chief had onlyretired from active duty last spring and made the transition to union work.“You made a pretty good team figuring all that out with Garfield. Still a shamewhat happened to him, but I wouldn’t be here without you. Makes me prettyinclined to listen, Mr. Queen.”

Oliver nodded all the while Alex made a mental note to askjust when in the hell his boss had been planning to tell him he’d saved thefirefighter union chief’s life. “I’m hoping you like what you hear. My campaignis committed to supporting those who need it most, and that includes our firstresponders, our firefighters, all those out on the front lines. Alex here hassome of the numbers we’ve been talking about.”

“These are preliminary plans we’re hoping to have your inputon,” Alex said, taking his cue to pass out the portfolios he had compiled.Laurel looked off of the one Oliver had laid out in front of them, their headsbent closer together than Alex really thought they needed to be.

Raynes was nodding along as he read, but Alex was moreinterested in Carmine, who leaned to his right to ask Laurel, “So you reallybelieve in this one, huh?”

“I do.”

“But I still remember your old man cursing his name!”Carmine and his Vice President burst into laughter.

Alex winced and held his breath, but Laurel only laughedlightly herself and said, “And he would be the first to tell you just what achanged man Oliver is. Believe me, I used to think we’d never see the dayeither.”

“Laurel and her family have been good enough to give me asecond chance,” Oliver added right off her statement. It was almost startling.In these previous sessions with endorsers they’d been attempting to woo, Oliverhad seemed content to allow Felicity to ramble on about this or that and waitfor her signal to speak. But now he seemed to know instinctively when to comein.

“I’m hoping that the citizens of Star can be willing to takea second chance as well. Not just on me, but on our home,” Oliver continued.The others had all gone quiet as they listened, none more closely than Laurel,who seemed to be hanging on his every word. “I know that we’ve struggled a lotthe last few years and that a lot of people are giving up or asking why webother? But I think with patience and with determination in equal measure, wecan help turn this city into the best it can be. The same way Laurel’s alwaysseen the best I can be and stood by me.”

“Well, thank you for proving me a good judge of characterafter all,” Laurel said, and they shared a smirk that was so fond it wasinfuriating. Alex coughed, and they both blinked and looked away from theother.

“I consider myself a good judge, too,” Carmine said, “and Ican tell you right now, Mr. Queen, so long as you have this lovely lady’ssupport that goes a long way in my book.”

Oliver looked at Laurel rather than Carmine as he answered,“I’ll keep it under advisement.”

Laurel headed back to City Hall on her own while Alex andOliver rode to the campaign office. Once alone with him, his boss seemed toretreat back into his thoughts, frowning out the window. Alex wondered what wason his mind.

“This may be the one time you hear this, but I might havebeen wrong,” Alex finally admitted, if only to try and draw the other man backinto the present. “About Laurel.”

Oliver’s eyes drifted in his direction, a half-smilecrossing his face. “Only might?”

Alex grimaced. He wasn’t really good at the whole admitting faultthing. “She’s good with those guys from the Locals. Probably grew up surroundedby them, didn’t she?” Oliver nodded in confirmation, and he supposed it madesense that the other man would know. “And I have to say even I was surprised athow well she made you look when they asked about your history. I actuallybelieved her.”

“That’s because she believes it, too.”

“Yeah. Makes you wonder…”

“What?” Oliver shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter.

Alex paused. It wasn’t really his place, nor was he reallyhoping to get that deeply involved in the candidate’s personal life. So heshrugged. “Nothing. Chief Raynes was right, though, you two make a good team.”

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed after a moment. He went back tostaring out the window, though this time his expression was far more wistful.

The more Alex thought about it, the more maddening itbecame. They were too good, made only more obvious when Laurel stopped by thecampaign office to pick up Thea for dinner.

“You could join us,” Thea told her brother.

“Only if you’re not needed here,” Laurel added quickly witha slightly guilty glance in Alex’s direction. She refocused on Oliver whiletucking her hair back behind one ear.

Oliver held her gaze for a moment before dropping it to thedesk. “I should probably put in another hour. You two go ahead.”

“We’ll see you later,” Laurel promised, and Alex watchedOliver watch them leave with a smile. Like he was watching his family. Which hebasically was.

Except that wasn’t his girlfriend. At least, not the mostrecent one. Not the one Alex had spent the last few weeks building the campaignaround; their little office romance or whatever it had been. It all sounded soshallow in his head in retrospect.

Whatever it was Oliver and Laurel had was strong, strongenough to survive time and scandal and the metaphorical equivalent of agasoline fire. They were still working together and for a common good. It was apolitical power couple the likes of which someone like him could only hope towitness.

And yet, they couldn’t really be together. Not without itcausing a stir in the campaign. And they both seemed to know it.

He knew it was deeply ironic to be disappointednow when before he’d been begging Oliver to put some distance between himselfand Laurel. But that had been before he’d realized: it should have been her.