#red tv press and chatter really did a number on her

[septembersghost]

I get to stand on this stage every single night of this tour and watch the most beautiful things happen. I watch you guys make friends with each other, I watch you bond, I watch you give each other friendship bracelets...I see so many beautiful interactions happen, and I hear so many stories about friends that were made at these shows, and I watch it happen every night. It's the most unbelievable thing to watch. And so I was hoping to ask you that, as we lead up to [Speak Now TV] coming out, I would love for that kindness and that gentleness to extend onto our internet activities, right? So, what I'm trying to say is, I am putting this album out, because I want to own my music, and I believe that any artist who has the desire to own their music should be able to. That's why I'm putting out this album. I'm 33 years old. I don't care about anything that happened to me when I was 19, except the songs I wrote and the memories we made together. So, what I'm trying to tell you is, I am not putting this album out so that you can go out, and should feel the need to defend me, on the internet, against someone you think I might have written a song about 14 billion years ago. I do not care. We have all grown up. We're good.

-Taylor before playing Dear John

[landorris4]

First of all, I'm so sorry for the wait! Hope you like it tho <3

── ☆ Hard launch

☆Lando Norris is a much desired man, but he is in a relationship. People just don't know it… Or at least they didn't know it until now.

warnings: none words count: 1.4k

Narrator's POV

Despite being on gossip sites all the time, the coveted Formula One driver, Lando Norris, is very much in a relationship, the public just doesn't know it yet. And if it were up to Jade Paez, it would stay that way. It's a shame that her boyfriend is a bit slow and ended up announcing their relationship to the world by accident.

Jade and Lando met at a soccer game. The girl is a huge Barcelona fan and went to watch the Real Madrid x Barcelona derby. They ended up bumping into each other when the girl was trying to escape the chaos at the end of the game and he was trying to go unnoticed among the Barcelona fans, because even though he was there with his best friend Carlos Sainz, the biggest Real Madrid fan he's ever met, he didn't have a preference and at the moment he just wanted to get to his hotel before he got into trouble with his marketing and press team.

Lando remembers holding the girl by the shoulders and cursing the man who pushed her, then asking her if everything was okay and guiding the girl to the nearest exit. The girl had never been so grateful for a man holding her arm, because at that moment she was very confused about everything. Too much noise and too many people made her nervous and disoriented.

── Thank you, I had no idea there would be so much confusion.─ she thanked the boy.

── Are you really okay? She seemed confused in the middle of a crowd of blue and red.  ─ he asked.

The curly-haired boy was stubborn, she soon learned. In their first contact, she realized that the boy was insistent about what he believed to be real, because that day he waited for a taxi with her and took her Instagram so he could be sure she arrived safely and well.

She thought it was cute, and after a few months of casually chatting on Instagram, they evolved to WhatsApp messages and exchanged numbers. It was inevitable that she would fall in love with the boy, and the first time they went out to a club together they ended up kissing all night.

Jade didn't even try to resist; she gave in at the first moment he put his hand on her waist.

Although they had been dating in secret for two incredible months, Jade didn't have the confidence to admit their relationship to the media yet. And if she did, she wanted a discreet relationship, something her boyfriend doesn't know how to do, she realized the hard way.

It was the day of the Euro Cup final, Spain vs. England, and Jade, like a true soccer lover, was sitting in front of the TV in her boyfriend's living room, anxiously waiting for the match to start. Lando laughed at his girlfriend's excitement; the boy loved hearing her chatter about her favorite sport and loved even more to irritate her by pretending to root for the rival team. This time, however, he was really rooting against Spain, wearing his England national team jersey.

Already lying in his favorite position (with his head on his girlfriend's chest), the boy watched the first few calm minutes of the game. Until the start of the second half, Norris was able to enjoy the caress he was receiving from his favorite girl, and he confesses that he almost fell asleep. However, she wouldn't be able to sleep even if she wanted to, because Jade was tense during the second half.

Pushing her boyfriend off her, the girl got up and went to the kitchen to get more wine, because she felt that any day now soccer would give her a heart attack. The boy grumbled when he had to get comfortable on the couch and waited for his girlfriend to come back, but the girl kept pacing around the living room for the next ten minutes, until she finally sat down on the armchair alone, because she kept getting up and sitting down, cursing her players in Spanish. He loved her so much, he realized that by watching her freak out over a soccer game.

Lando took a picture of the game on his television and posted it on Instagram, because his media team had asked him to post something that week. He would have stayed quiet, admiring his girlfriend and away from his phone, because it hadn't been two minutes and Charlotte was calling him.

── Hmm… Hi? Is everything okay? ─ he found the call strange.

── If you were going to admit your relationship like that, you should have told me! ─ the woman said angrily on the other end of the phone.

── WHAT?

The frightened scream alerted Jade, who forgot about the game and went to her boyfriend, who seemed about to have a nervous breakdown.

── Lando?  ─ she asked, confused.

── Charlotte, explain this properly.  ─ he asked, still stunned.

── You posted a photo with Jade on Instagram, Lando. When I asked you to post something, I meant a photo of your window, a selfie, I wasn't telling you to assume a relationship. I'm very happy for you, but I asked you to warn me beforehand and you didn't.

── Charlotte, I swear to you, I didn't post a photo with Jade.

── Yes, you did, a photo of the two of them hugging each other watching the game.  ─ she reveals, confused. How come the boy didn't know what he posted?

── I posted a photo of my TV with the game on… Holy shit, I posted the wrong photo.

By that time, Jade had already understood what her boyfriend had done, took a deep breath, threw herself on the couch and asked Lando to put it on speakerphone. After minutes of talking about the consequences, Charlotte finally hung up and the couple was alone again.

── The next time we have a secret from the media, I'm going to hide your phone.  ─ the girl said angrily. She wasn't ready to be a girlfriend in the media yet. Until yesterday she was just a normal girl, and now suddenly she's a WAG.

── I'm sorry, love. I swear it was an accident, I didn't realize it was the wrong photo.

Not even the dog face that fell off the moving truck would ease the anger she felt towards her boyfriend at that moment. They had talked for hours about coming out in a few months to avoid any fuss and to give Jade more time to get used to life as a celebrity's girlfriend, and now the entire plan that the Hispanic woman had drawn up had gone down the drain because her boyfriend didn't know how to check a post before posting it online. She was furious, but there was nothing she could do.

She preferred to stay quiet for a few minutes, taking deep breaths so as not to be unfair to her boyfriend, and the boy gave her some time to calm down until he started to apologize. However, Jade interrupted him.

── There's no point in apologizing, it's over now, the world knows you're dating someone. It's over, we'll deal with it, I'll get over it. But let's continue with the previous plan, starting from the point after we came out. I still want a private relationship and to hide as much as possible from the media.

── Whatever you want, my love. Forgive me for being so oblivious, please. ─ he begged.

And Jade understood that it was hard for Lando to live with this guilt, especially because it wasn't entirely his fault. It was a mistake that could happen to anyone, and she shouldn't crucify him for it. The pilot didn't mean any harm.

── It's okay, Lando. Just… pay more attention next time, please. ─ the girl asked.

── There won't be a next time, you're the one who will review my posts from today on so I never post anything that makes you uncomfortable.

── No need for that, Lan, because now everyone knows.

And after releasing the photo without any context, Lando decided to make a post to clarify a little (and, if you asked, he wanted to make a post for his girlfriend).

And in the end, Jade couldn't blame him for anything, she knew that getting involved with a F1 driver would bring public attention, and even so she dove in head first. She would never regret it, though.

landonorris

liked by lnfour, user4 and 627,459 others

tagged: jadepaez

landonorris sorry love, you're too pretty to stay hidden

view comments

jadepaez I'll never trust you with a secret again

landonorris fair enough

carlossainz55 finally

user1 bro even Carlos was longing for a launch user3 carlando crumbs

lnfour the boss now has a boss

user5 no way did he posted the stories by mistake?

user9 it seems like user4 actually that's such a Norris thing to do

i was so inspired after yesterdays game.

reader and lando are in a secret relationship no one knows about. they are laying watching the match, lando in an england shirt. when england win, he takes a photo of the england badge on his shirt and posts it to his instagram story, but he accidentally posts it showing he is cuddling with someone. if that makes sense?😭😭

got it! gonna try to write it through the week, promise!

[shorkbrian]

i’m sorry but i luv your writing/thot process so i have to share this: imagine superstar trainer kiri marrying ur mom. he’s only a few years older (and you had a crush on him first) so you avoid him bc you’re shy/uncomfortable with it. your plans are foiled when mom’s away and y’all are stuck at home during a snow storm, power out, no heat/gas, and no matter how many layers u use nothing beats body heat. kiri is so sweet and just wants to get close and keep you warm/see whats under ur sweats

I’m literally melting rn 

Like imagine Kiri shuffling closer to you on the couch, scooting underneath the blankets you have piled around your body.

He keeps getting closer and closer and closer until he’s pressed up against you, and he feels like a heater, warm and cozy and comfortable. You don’t mind burrowing down into his side a bit, only blushing a little when the big man chuckles at your behavior.

There’s a movie playing on the TV, but you’re kind of sleepy, and your stepdad feels so sturdy and safe against your side, and you’re finally warming to a comfortable temperature, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep.

When you wake up, you’re laying down on a solid surface, heat wrapped around your body and trapped beneath the blankets. The surface rumbles and shifts, and only then do you realize that Kirishima must have moved you.

The room is dark, TV off, lights out. The wind is still howling and moaning outside like a mourner at a grave, beating against the windows and crying to the sky.

Lifting your head means you get a view of Kiri’s face, of his handsome, relaxed self as he gazes down at you, a pleased, soft smile on his features.

You go to apologize for falling asleep on him and for inconveniencing him, but Kirishima doesn’t let you. “It’s warmer this way, plus, I like holding something while I sleep.”

He has his arms wrapped around you, thick biceps pressing heavy against your shoulders, keeping you flush to his muscular chest. You blush a little at the position, shifting your legs and trying not to do anything weird.

But in moving your legs around, you find yourself straddling his thigh, the stocky limb flexing underneath your weight, Kirishima twitching.

“Sorry-” You blush again, intending on moving, but your stepdad drops a hand to your hip, steadying you.

“No, don’t apologize, I get it.” He winks at you, before jiggling his thigh a bit, settling you down further onto it. “I remember doing stuff like this back in high school, I know it feels good.”

A long moment of silence stretched between you two as you processed his words, feeling increasingly awkward.

“Um, okay...” Was all you could come up with.

Kirishima laughed a bit. “You’ve never cuddled with anyone before? It’s nice, isn’t it? ‘Specially with the heat out like this. Power went out while you were sleeping.”

You felt a little silly now, ducking your head and dropping your gaze. That would explain why the lights were off. You had just assumed the movie had finished playing and your stepdad had turned it off, but apparently that wasn’t the case. 

“Temp’s gonna drop fast, we’re probably going to have to use good ‘ole body heat while we sleep. You wanna move to the bed? Or just sleep here?”

A shrug, and Kirishima smiled. “Okie-doke, bed it is. Thank goodness, my back would kill me if I tried to sleep on the couch. Gettin’ old s’no fun.”

The man sat up, and you quickly disentangled yourself from him, ignoring the way his thigh rubbed in between your legs as he moved about. As soon as you felt the chill of the room, you shivered, clacking your teeth together and snatching the blanket tight around yourself.

“Oh, that’s so cold, fuck.”

“Hey, watch your language-” Kirishima chided, rising to his feet as he gathered the rest of the blankets up into his arms. “No potty mouths in this house, yeah? Keep it clean.”

He’d been married to your mom for almost a year now, and Kirishima had easily fallen into the “father figure” role, despite the fact that it wasn’t necessarily needed.

But you indulged him by laughing at his corny dad jokes, complimenting the various meats he grilled for meals, keeping your judgements about his questionable fashion choices to yourself instead of blurting them out to his face.

Kirishima led the way to the master bedroom, the room he shared with your mom, stating that the bed was bigger, it’d be more comfortable. Did you really expect him to fit into your bed?

He was a big man, strong and solid. He was able to throw you over one shoulder, your mom over the other, and run around the house whooping while the two of you laughed and pounded on his back.

“Alright-” Kirishima tossed his armful of blankets onto the bed he shared with your mom, immediately fluffing them up and pulling at the edges until he was satisfied.

The man pulled back the edge, holding it ups as he turned to you. “Head on inside!”

It was cold at first, the sheets and blankets chilly. You snuggled up to Kirishima as soon as the big man laid down, making him laugh a bit as your teeth chattered together.

“S-sorry it’s just so-so c-cold.” You explained.

“Your nose is all red, you look so cute.” His smile is warm, his hands even warmer as they begin to rub up and down your sides.

You don’t know how to respond, let yourself relax into the comforting touch, his fingertips dancing over your sweater.

“So.....” Kiri starts “You’ve never had a boyfriend then? You got so quiet when I asked if you’ve cuddled with someone before.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and you shook your head. “No, I have. I broke up with him a little bit before you and mom started dating.”

The redhead’s quiet for a moment, then tucks his chin over your head, drawing you closer into his chest. “I’m sorry. Relationships can be hard, I know.”

“It was for the best, I think.” You continue, letting your stepdad rub your back as you talked. “We just didn’t really jive well together I guess. Wish we’d figured that out sooner though.”

The man pressed against you is so sturdy, solid and radiating heat like a furnace. It’s easy to relax in his easy-going presence.

“Well, if you ever miss cuddling, don’t hesitate to come find me, yeah? It’s one of my favorites.”

Kirishima was a touchy man, and it was obvious that his love language was touch, so it made sense. He always had his thick arms wrapped around your mom, was holding her hand, holding yours, placing kisses on your cheeks, kissing your mom every chance he got.

Sometimes he asked you to brush out his hair for him, when you weren’t busy or anything. He’d relax into jelly as you ran the hairbrush through his red locks, contented little sighs falling from his lips.

“Okay, I’ll do that.” You chuckle, thinking to yourself how the world had a funny sense of humor.

Truthfully, when you’d first been introduced to the man your mom had recently started dating, you’d developed a hopeless crush. He was attractive, kind, funny; if your mom wasn't dating him, you would’ve asked for his number.

A small part of you was irritated that the man was young enough for you to date him, your mother unbothered by the sugar stereotype she’d developed.

But ah well, what’s done is done.

“You know, I didn’t know what I'd be like having a daughter.” Kirishima soft voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “You’re almost more like.... I dunno, a friend? If that makes sense. I feel like we’re buddies.”

“Yeah, I feel like that too.” You confess, breathing into his neck, able to smell the cologne he uses, something heady and strong and manly.

A comfortable silence settles around you both, nothing but soft breaths and Kirishima’s warm hands rubbing gently over your body, against your sides, up and down your back, massaging your shoulders.

They traveled too close to your tummy, and you choked out a laugh, flinching away from Kirishima.

“Don’t, ‘m ticklish.” Came your breathless, giggly warning.

“Yeah? Yeah?” The redhead grinned, a glint in his eye, barely noticeable before he pounced, rolling over until you were smothered beneath his hefty weight, unable to move.

Horrible, terrible fingers descended, dug into your ribs and you shrieked, wide smile breaking across your features as your stepdad tickled you.

This is what happiness was made of.

Warm and fuzzy, the smell of rain, the sound of it pattering against the roof. Strong arms around you, a laugh on your lips.

Kirishima’s thigh slipped in between yours, pressed upwards, and you choked on a breath, hands immediately clutching at the man’s biceps.

“You’re so sensitive, it’s so cute.”

No time to say his name, ask any questions. He was situating you on your side, legs tangled with his, a big, beefy thigh still flush against your clothed sex.

“Mm, you ever do this with your boyfriend?” The redhead was moving, hands gripping your waist now, dragging you along his thigh, and you kept bumping up against his chest, his toned stomach.

“Yes-yeah.” Was your breathless reply, head whirling, eyes wide. This isn’t really what you were expecting, not from your stepdad.

But it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

That’s why you weren’t screaming your head off, recoiling in disgust, scrambling for the phone to call your mom, the police.

No, you were still, pliant against Kirishima as he moved your body, his lazy red eyes fixed on your face. “Hm? Feels nice, doesn’t it? You like it?”

A shaky nod is all you can muster, feeling yourself beginning to drip against your stepdad’s thigh, slick all over your folds, the skin tingling, making your hips jump as your clit pulsed at the stimulation.

God, it felt good.

“You make me so happy, y’know? Such a pretty, smart girl.” He praised, and now you could feel it - feel the cock filling out against your tummy, hot and wet, leaking.

“I really hit the jackpot. A beautiful wife, a gorgeous daughter... I love you so, so much.” Kirishima was breathing heavier, his fingers digging into your hipbones as he dragged you back and forth against him. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Just wanna take care of you, yeah?  Make you cum lots, whatever you want.”

Almost feverish now, his hips twitching forward, pushing against your tummy again and again, rubbing his cock against your soft flesh, groaning in your ear, breath stuttering-

And then a long moan, a burst of warmth soaking through your pajama shirt, right where the tip of Kiri’s cock rested.

“Oh shit-” He gasped, sucking in air, muscles flexing as he drew back his legs, hands shakily pushing you onto your back.

“That - Jesus, you really got me goin’.” Kiri panted, beginning to kiss at your neck, one of his hands diving into your pajama pants, straight down to strum over your clit.

Already keyed up from the dry humping, veins pumping with excitement, arousal, the thrill of being touched and fondled by your-your stepdad.

A finger teased at your hole, then inched inside, and you bucked your hips, crying out a bit.

“Hey, hey-” He was still a little breathless, a little lightheaded from his orgasm, but the man was determined. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I got you. I’m always gonna take care of my girl.”

[violetarks]

Just A Game: Shouldn't Couldn't Wouldn't

Anime: My Hero Academia

LEVEL DOWN | MENU | LEVEL UP

"Shinso, you don't want to watch with us?" Uraraka questioned, settling down in between Todoroki and Midoriya.

The man shook his head. "No. You guys are probably gonna' watch some boring rom-com." He joked, brushing a hand through his hair.

It's been two days since he last spoke to Y/N.

They were completely cut off from each other. No, they didn't delete their numbers off of their phones, but they weren't talking at all. It gave Y/N time to cool off and work on her song as well as stream sometimes. Shinso worked on streaming by himself and helping others with their videos.

"Y/N came out with a new song!" Uraraka giggled out in excitement, turning on YouTube on the TV, "Only the music video is out for now, but I heard all her friends helped to film it!"

Shinso visibly tensed up at her words. They hadn't mentioned anything about Y/N to him, just guessing that they were having some trouble. But it completely went out of Uraraka's head as soon as she read Y/N's Twitter post that said ''Shouldn't Couldn't Wouldn't' is out now on my YouTube channel!! Go check it out or else I'll send Bakugou after you 😡😡😡'.

Shinso sighed out, "I'm good. I need to make some lunch for us anyway."

They said their 'thank you's to Shinso as Iida told him to be careful in the kitchen. He stood in the kitchen for a while, mind going to Y/N. She looked so hurt when he admitted he lied. And maybe she would've felt better if he just poured out why he felt this way, to lie and such.

The chatter of Todoroki, Midoriya, Iida and Uraraka died down at the girl pressed 'play' on the TV.

Shinso stood behind them in the living room doorway. He didn't want to sit with his friends right now. He just wanted to be alone and watch the music video.

The music came out gently at first. The plucking of the strings on the electric guitar was simple. It sounded like the feeling of falling. The video started out on a blank screen, the words 'Shouldn't Couldn't Wouldn't' on the black background. Underneath showed the people's names.

Vocals: L/N Y/N, Kirishima Eijiro

Guitars: Kirishima Eijiro (lead), Kaminari Denki (back-up electric), Jirou Kyoka (bass)

Drums: Bakugou Katsuki

Cameras: Ashido Mina, Sero Hanta

And then the drum beat came in behind, slowly at first as the first verse came up.

"'By now I got your bad habits all memorized, like, when I know you need me most'," Y/N sung, hand on the microphone as she tugged the wire behind her, "'You go and shut me out, figures, you Gemini."

They decided not to film a big music video, just one in the studio. They got Mina and Sero to dl the camera work, and God, did they do a great job

"Wow, she can really sing!" Midoriya commented before Uraraka quieted him down. She was a huge fan of Y/N's.

"'And I'm not sayin' that I've got, all of the answers, but,'" She kept going, Mina's camera panning to Kaminari who was focusing on the guitar at the moment, "'Boy, I've been in love before'."

Jirou had sung in the harmonies, adding in the ones they agreed on. It sounded like honey.

He wondered who she was in love with before him, and if they did a better job. Y/N admitted that she wanted to be more than friends with Shinso, and he blew it. Maybe the other person who loved her treated her better.

"'It's not always peachy, look, life ain't that easy,'" Y/N kept going, tapping her foot in beat with Bakugou's soft drumbs, "'But one thing I know for sure is it—'"

"'Shouldn't,'" She sung lightly with Jirou behind her, looking up to the camera with a completely 'done' expression, "'Be this hard, you couldn't, DTR. Oh wouldn't, it be nice, if we could stay friends? But we shouldn't.'"

The camera caught how Kirishima and Bakugou glanced at each other before at Y/N. It wasn't very discrete in the shot of the whole band.

Shinso clenched the fabric of his sweater as he watched her. She was gorgeous, on and off camera.

"Y'know what? I couldn't." Y/N went on, one hand brushing the back of her neck whilst the other held onto the microphone, "'Nough's enough. If I had your heart, it wouldn't be this... hard."

She looked deep in thought and would've stayed that way if it wasn't for Kirishima's little riff on his guitar.

Shinso noticed how she looked to the ground, swallowing before looking back up to the camera with a small grin.

She began to walk around the studio, tugging the wire behind her. "You wonder why suddenly, I'm coming off indifferent." She chimes, shrugging her shoulders innocently, "'What you don't seem to understand is..."

She stood next to Jirou, who was smiling at her friend. She hadn't seen Y/N this passionate about a song in ages. Jirou didn't like the intention behind it, but she always loved seeing Y/N give her all.

"It's not anything you said, it's everything you didn't. Ooh," Y/N spoke, glaring at the camera as Jirou harmonised with her. It was obvious who she had in mind. She hoped he saw this.

Shinso definitely did, he was feeling his heart rate increase slowly as she spoke. She meant every word she said and Shinso had the front seat to who she meant it to.

"Yeah, you." She sung, waving a finger in the air, "You always answered with, more questions to questions that scare you."

Y/N stood in the middle of Kirishima and Kaminari, tilting her head down to the camera. She wore a face that said she was truly angered, but was hiding it behind her smile. But it fell for the next line.

"We're not always peachy, look, love ain't that easy." Y/N stated, Bakugou in the background of the shot twirling his drumsticks in between his fingers.

"But one thing I know—" Y/N struck her fist up into the air, as did Kaminari and Kirishima, "I know it for sure that it!"

"Shouldn't," Jirou came in as Y/N finished the climax of that line.

"Be this hard, you couldn't," Y/N went on after taking a deep breath, pulling the mic back to her lips, "DTR. Oh wouldn't, it be nice if we could stay friends? But we shouldn't!"

Kaminari had whistled in the background at her voice. Y/N sung this chorus with so much more heat and push, making it sound less soft and passive-agressive than the last. Making it now — just agressive.

But Kirishima and Bakugou focused on their instruments. They knew how much Shinso hurt her. Which is why they encouraged her to sing this song for the album, it would help her get all this hatred out of her system.

"Y'know what? I couldn't!" She called, hand in her hair as she went over to Kirishima. As Sero's camera followed her, she leaned her arm against Kirishima's shoulder. "'Nough's enough! If I had your heart, it wouldn't be this hard."

Bakugou's drumming was the main attraction in the music background for the third verse.

"I drank too much tonight to not try to call you up." Kirishima finally joined in, singing into the microphone that stood in front of him. He worked with Jirou to help get his voice to suit this song better. "I mean, that's what our phones are for."

"Even Kirishima? Damn, they're all talented." Todoroki commented, sipping from his glass as Uraraka shifted in her spot.

She squealed, "Oh my God! People are gonna' go crazy over this! A duet between Kirishima and Y/N!"

Shinso didn't like that. The idea of Kirishima and Y/N together right after they broke it off, as friends. He wanted a second chance to make things better.

Mina's camera showed Kaminari throwing up a fist to cheer on his best friend, Jirou smiling at Kirishima.

It made the red-haired boy grin through his singing. "Not one for titles, girl, in other words — terrified." He said, seeing Y/N lift herself off of him to whisper to Bakugou about something.

Shinso was terrified. He hated to admit it. Perhaps that was why he could lie. Because he was scared.

The next line made him blush red. "That pussy kicked my rules out the door."

Y/N only grinned at him.

Shinso felt his heart ache.

Kaminari wrote that sentence. He wrote all of Kirishima's lines. Which made Jirou and Y/N laugh in rehearsals.

Kirishima shook his head, Sero's camera now focusing on him. "I could take more shots or I could take you, off your blouse." Kirishima sung as Y/N came back to her spot, still watching him, "My favourite parts of fucking is either when I'm done or when you're walking out my house."

Again, Shinso grit his teeth as he listened to those lines.

But why? Y/N wasn't his.

Jirou had hit Kaminari for writing that line as he claimed it was too late to change it now.

As Y/N twirled the microphone wire in between her fingers, Kirishima closed his eyes and went on, "You don't pick up when I call unless I call you 'mine'. But one thing I know is it—"

"Shouldn't!" Y/N came in again, taking the last chorus again with Jirou. Kirishima went back to focusing on his guitar.

He tried calling her. She didn't pick up. Ever. Maybe because she was filming and editing, or because she didn't want to waste the time on him.

"Be this hard. You couldn't, DTR. Oh wouldn't, it be nice if we could stay friends? But we shouldn't..." She sung, tilting her head to the side with closed eyes.

Y/N held onto the microphone tightly as Jirou watched her intensely. "Y'know what? I couldn't! 'Nough's enough!" She sung loudly, mic pulled away a bit to prevent peaking, "If I had your heart, it wouldn't be this..."

She took a deep breath in before letting it out in the song. "Hard — ah, ah, ah—ah, ah, ah..." She sung in melody with Jirou, closing her eyes with knitted brows. She was about to burst. "Oh, woah, woah—Hard, ah, ah! Mm!"

When Y/N opened her eyes, she stared at the ground. The drumming was dropped and the only one playing was Kirishima, the lead guitarist for the song.

She sighed, "It's not always peachy, look, love ain't that easy. But one thing I know, for sure is we... shouldn't."

The music stopped and was replaced by Kaminari's cheers. They finished the take in one go. He set his guitar down and ran up to the girls, engulfing them in giant hugs as he complimented their voices.

Y/N giggled, hugging back with Jirou, who looked madly annoyed. Bakugou only came towards them at Y/N's whining, telling him to be a team player. He allowed her to wrap an arm around his neck, saying how good his drumming was.

The last to join the hug was Kirishima. He stood in front of Y/N, placing a hand on top of her head and ruffling her hair. She complained about it until he rested a kiss on her forehead.

That's where the video cut off.

Shinso squinted at the TV before overhearing Uraraka compliment how well they sang and how great they performed all together. She always loved their friendship group.

Iida said something about the camera work and how the transitions were smooth.

Midoriya liked how they seemed relaxed all the time during the recording.

Todoroki mentioned how it kind of hinted to Kirishima and Y/N being a couple.

Shinso walked back into the kitchen.

Fun Fact: Y/N and her best friends really only met through Kaminari spilling his tea over Y/N's shirt at the cafe they all coincidentally studied at. She had her music playing through her headphones, which is why Jirou had introduced herself since she liked the artist too. Kaminari and Mina cried over ruining a pretty outfit. Kirishima apologised for their behaviour. Bakugou hit the two for their actions. Mina invited Y/N to come to their table and pay for her food in return.

TAGS: @just-some-stars @freyafolkvangr @headfirst-halo @wotsitgirl @falling4fandoms @katsuki-bakuhoee @adorable-punk-superheroes @firecet @ouijaeater15 @swoonhui @thegalxe @caitff @camry-orphanaccount @angelofdarkness1020 @someweirdshitman @jazzylove

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part eighty four/

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: Enjoy! 

Warnings: language, semi fluff, angst

Taglist:  @brideofdraculana​, @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol​,  @anntheboneless,  @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @awkwrdcait,  @countrygirlswonderland, @thatbandchick39 @awesomealmostdopestudent, @oskea93, @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox,  @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @broke-n-bitchy @thanks2pete,  @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001,  @waywardprincess666, , @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london​, @nassauartist  @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe,  @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong  @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier @youretheonlyonewhomakesme, @xxisxxisxxis, @dogmom2014, @cruesixxlover1991, @xpoisonousrosesx, , @m0rnlngstar, @love-struck-aries, @findingmyths, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @motleycrueprincess, @redlipscrystalskies14, @samanthadegaro @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @thechangingme, @patheticgay69, @idkmanhereisshitilike, @makaelahdelvalle

“You said you got rid of it?! Why do you still have her number, Nikki? Am I just a fucking joke to you?! I am coming here to talk to her-“ I shouted, pointing my finger at our therapist as I burrowed holes into green hues, “-because you wanted to work on things! This was your idea and yet you are still doing the same crap I don’t want you doing!”

We were currently standing in the middle of the therapy office, nose to nose as our chests heaved in anger. Nikki's cheeks were red, matching mine as his jaw was clenched and my fists were balled tight at my sides. The thunder claps were barely audible outside over our yelling match.

"It's nothing! It's just a god damn phone number, Vanity! You are blowing this all out of proportion like fucking always! She is just a friend!" Nikki raises his voice, his breath hot as I shook my head and smirked in his face.

"Oh bullshit Nikki! I wasn't born yesterday. She's a pretty blonde with fake tits and she has bad intentions, why can't you just see that and say sorry?! She knows about me and knows about Arianna!"

Nikki groaned, rubbing his face "Jesus, Van. You don't know her like I do! Donna isn't like that! We're just friends and it isn't romantic or sexual! You don't need to be insecure over it."

"Insecure?" A confused expression riddled my face as I stared at him, "Are you even listening to yourself? Maybe I wouldn't be insecure if you didn't talk to other women Nikki."

"Vanity! I'm not talking to her like you think I am!! Jesus Christ!" I took a step back when Nikki threw the plastic water bottle in his hands down at the floor, "Just fucking trust me for once and believe me when I say nothing is going on!"

I turned my cheek, glancing out the window at the rain droplets hitting the glass as the fog was rolling in. I sat back down in the chair, resting fist against my cheek as I glared at the clock. I-I just don't understand why he would lie, say he threw it away and then have it again. If he didn't want to do this he should just say so and save us the fucking trouble.

"Vanity?" I glanced at Crystal, "Did you hear me?"

"No, sorry." I mumbled crossing my leg over my knee and sitting up straight.

"I think you two should consider seeing other people for the time being. I thought you two were making progress, it's like you two took five steps back from where we were getting. Now, I'm not talking about moving out and finding someone to marry. Just some dates, see all the options that are out there." Crystal suggested as I shook my head bitterly, "Can you two do that? We'll try this approach and if it becomes to much of a problem the we'll try something else, alright?"

I saw Nikki shrug out of the corner of my eye, "Yeah, sure. I can do that." I rolled my eyes and roughly pulled a string off my jeans, "I'll be seeing Donna Friday evening anyways."

My eyes darted to him as I quickly got up and grabbed my purse and walked out of the office, "Van-" I heard them both yell for me as I slammed the door shut. I stormed out of the office and onto the front steps before I started walking to the car, being absolutely drenched by the pouring rain.

How can Nikki tell me it's harmless and it's nothing and then turn around and say he's going out with her? That doesn't make any sense to me. Why would he suggest going to therapy if he was just going to talk to another women behind my back again? I wiped my eyes, rain and tears mixing as they dripped off my chin. My teeth were chattering and my finger tips were turning numb from the cold as I dug the car keys out of my purse, hearing Nikki yell for me as well as boot prints splashing in puddles.

"Look, I'm sorry that I just said it like that back there. But I think it might be good if we did take a break."  Nikki spoke, attempting to catch his breath as I glared at him and got in the car, turning it on and immediately cranking up the heater, "I love you but fuck, we ain't getting anywhere with the therapy Vanity."

I shook my head, staring out the window before I started to drive us home "Glad you already decided this for us Nikki. How long have you been talking to her?"

Nikki sighed, "Just a week or two. I ran into her. Our publicists office is in the same building as her managers office. It's not serious Van, I swear. I haven't done anything with her either, it's just been phone calls here and there and she asked if i wanted to go to dinner with her Friday, and I said yes."

I sighed as I reached for one of his cigarettes in the cup holder, it was a New Years resolution to quit but I think this was a reasonable reason to have one, "You should've just been honest with me."

"So you could be pissed even more-"

"No, Nikki! Out of fucking respect." I snapped quickly, "You could have told me so I wouldn't have been blind sided in there. I feel like a damn idiot." I wiped hot tears and rain droplets of my cheeks, feeling Nikki's hand rest on my knee before squeezing it lightly, "Please don't touch me right now." I shoved it off of my body as I gripped the steering wheel after.

"Vanity, I'm sorry. I really am. I just didn't know how to tell you. But, I think we should consider using the therapists advice and and trying it out. That's all."

I ended up tuning him out. I didn't understand how Nikki could be so, so calm and collected about this. If it was the other way around and I wanted to see another man he would absolutely go berserk. But that's not the case because I don't, I just want him.

*Friday Evening*

~Nikki's POV~

I could feel Vanity's eyes drilling holes into the back of my head as I checked my hair in the accent mirror we had on the living room wall. I smirked at myself before my eyes met hers, "Yes?"

I turned around to look at her, seeing her curled up on the couch with a blanket and Anarchy by her side, "Nothing, you look nice."

"You think so? Thanks Van." I smiled at her as she started glaring before turning her attention back to the tv, eyebrows pulled together tight and her jaw clenched, more than likely teeth grinding against teeth, "What's the problem princess?" I attempted to bite back a laugh as she ripped the blanket off of her and got up.

"What do you think the problem is, Nikki?" She questioned, as she rolled her eyes and walked to the kitchen.

"Uh...is Mother Nature visiting this week?" I smirked as I glanced over, seeing her at the island opening a bottle of wine.

"The therapist is stupid and you know it. What kind of sane therapist suggest to go see other people where one half of the couple is a cheater?  It's bull Nikki." She stated, stormy eyes staring deep as she brought the wine glass to her lips.

"To see if we should be together, Vanity. You heard her the other day. I think it's good for us ya know? We never have time away from one another and it's smothering-" I watched as her eyebrows raised, "T-that's not what I meant Van. That isn't-" I closed my eyes when she slammed the fridge door close.

"Ari, say bye to daddy." Van spoke softly as Arianna came bolting into the kitchen with Anarchy.

"I'll be back later sweet pea." I smiled as I picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "You be good and don't have too much fun without me."

Arianna pressed her little hands against my cheeks and smushed them together, "You have to be good too!" I chuckled and nodded, "Pinky!"

"Yes Arianna, I promise I'll be good if you'll be good. And if you are good, maybe we can take your bike out to the park and ride around a bit tomorrow. Sound like a deal?" I held my pinky out for her as she wrapped hers around mine.

"Deal!"

I smiled brightly, "That's my girl!" I gave her another quick kiss on the cheek before putting her down as she went over to the couch and stole Vans spot. I grabbed my jacket and went over to the table near the door to grab my keys and the flowers for Donna, "Hey, where's those sunflowers at?"

"They're in the dining room? You didn't have to get them for me but they are really pretty.." Van pointed as I glanced over at the dining table and seeing them arranged in a crystal vase.

"Uh-" I let out an awkward laugh, "Those were for Donna..."

I saw her expression change, the faint smile being replaced with a frown, "But they're sunflowers..."

I fidgeted with the key ring around my finger, "Donna likes them too...but uh, you can keep them. I can just stop at the store to get roses or something. I'm already running a bit late.." I mumbled, glancing down at my watch and then back at her, "So I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be here and I hope you have fun." Van spoke with a defeated sigh as she turned her back towards me. I watched for a moment as she went to go sit with Arianna and cuddle under the blanket. I shook it off before I walked out the front door.

*Nikki's Date*

What a fucking babe.

Nikki smirked, sauntering over to the table as he saw Donna, a tight red dress and sleek blonde hair resting on her shoulders in loose curls. She takes a sip out of a glass half full of club soda and a lime wedge. Her eyes light up when they find Nikki, "Hey! You look handsome!" Her voice was cheerful as she stood up and they gave one another a quick hug.

"Thank you, you look amazing. These are for you.." he holds out a bouquet of red roses, "I'm sorry if I'm a little late, traffic was kinda bad getting over here."  He sits down, declining when the waiter offers a glass of wine and opts for water instead.

"It's okay. I was enjoying the free bread. It's good." Donna chuckles nervously a bit, "I hope this is okay for you? I'm sure you're use to five star dining and what not."

Nikki brushes it off, "Oh, it's not a problem-" He smiles at her, "I actually take the family here a lot."

"Oh? Well I guess you should have picked then. That's so sweet of you to take Arianna to fancy places like this. She must be really well behaved."

Nikki nodded reaching for a bread roll out of the basket, "Yeah she is. Sometimes she’s a brat and has the temper of her mom and I. So...it's fun."

"But I bet it's fun to have a little break from watching her right? I know my friends and they sometimes have issues with the co-parenting." Donna expressed as her eyes stayed glued to the menu, searching for her dinner as dessert sat in front of her.

"Yeah, well...we live like roommates kinda and Arianna is like a mutual pet-" Nikki laughs, "But it works out fine at the end of the day."

"Oh! I didn't know you too lived with each other. I shouldn't have assumed but how you were explaining it...but it sounds like a good system you have."

Nikki cleared his throat and took a sip, thinking how he wants that glass of wine after all, "Yeah, sorry. I should have been more clear. I bought the house for Vanity years ago and it's in both of our names."

Donna smiled at him, "It's okay. Whatever is best for Arianna, right?"

"Exactly, how's Rhyan? Is he feeling better yet?" Nikki questioned. He was glad he found someone that had a kid and could understand the responsibilities that come with being a parent, that he could get advice from if he ever didn't know what to do.

"He's starting to. Took him to the urgent care the other day and they gave him some antibiotics. I hope by Monday he can go back to school, I don't want him to miss too much. But enough about the kids, how was your week?"

Nikki let out a long breath, "It was tiring, meetings and phone calls nonstop. The album comes out next month so now we're working on merchandising and how we want it to look. Tommy's...girlfriend is helping." He rolls his eyes and Donna laughs, "What?" He smiled.

"I can't wait to here it. I'm super excited from what you've been telling me. You made that last part sound like it's a nails on a chalk board for you. Not a fan of her?" Donna questioned as she leaned closer a bit.

"It's definitely different. Doesn't sound like the usual Mötley but that's a good thing." He looks at her, "She's just- we don't get along but she's Arianna's godmother so I have to play nice."

"You'll give me a signed copy right?" She jokes, "That's too bad, I bet it puts a rift between you and Tommy and Vanity."

He nodded, "Sometimes it does but she's pregnant now so she hasn't been that much of a bother." He smiles at her and gently reaches across to touch her hand "You'll get it hot off the press and signed by all of us, I promise."  Donna blushes a bit when he winks at her and she gives his hand a light squeeze.

They order dinner and some wine, chit chatting about anything and everything. Donna laughs at some of his corny jokes and Nikki's completely mesmerized by how down to earth she actually is despite being an actress and model. She enjoyed being outdoors and hiking, he could rarely get Vanity to break a sweat outside of the bedroom without complaining. She liked volunteering in her free time when she wasn't being super mom and a baywatch babe. Donna was impressed with how many articulate thoughts and ideas Nikki actually had. He wasn't like the dumb basketball stars or other musicians she had met. She swooned hearing him talk about his passions of music and song writing and even at the vulnerability about how his childhood wasn't so great and his sobriety.  She heard many, many stories about him and clearly most of that was just gossip she had figured.

After dinner, Nikki paid even though Donna argued that they could at least split it evenly, they were walking through a near by park before going their seperate ways. It was only a bit chilly as sparkling lights were wrapped around the stumps of oak trees and some light music was playing from a street performer. They both had small cups of hot chocolate in their hands as they walked side by side.

"Thank you for tonight Nikki and for the roses. I've had a lot of fun tonight. Who knew rockstars could be so chivalrous and kind?" Donna laughs a bit as she nudges his shoulder.

"Who knew actresses couldn't be snobs?" He let's his free hand brush against hers, "But you're welcome Donna, thank you for wanting to go out with me. I wanna do this again if you do?"

Donna nodded as they came back to the entrance as their cars were parked across the street, "I'd like to do this again too Nikki." She smiles up at him taking the extra step and holds his hand gently, feeling how warm his palm was and the roughness from playing his instrument.

"I'll call you okay?" Nikki smiled, gnawing on the inside of his cheek before leaning down and kissing her on the lips softly. He pulls away after a moment seeing her bright blue eyes shining and her cheeks a crimson shade, "Goodnight."

*Nikki's POV*

I sat in the car, a permanent smile on my face. I think that's one of the best dates I've ever been on. I got a whiff of Donnas perfume on my jacket, it smelt like tulips and fresh linen. I sighed deeply before getting out of the car and locking up. I headed to the front door and walked in, being met by loud music and Arianna yelling.

What. The. Fuck.

I walked into the living room seeing Arianna jumping up and down and attempting to sing along to a Backstreet Boy music video, "Arianna? What the hell are you doing up? You're suppose to be in bed." I grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned it off "Van!?!" I flipped open the pizza box, seeing a few remnants of left over crust and a carton of melted ice cream as well.

"Daddy! I missed you! Ca-can you spin me around!? Please?!" Arianna was jittery beyond belief as I then saw two empty cans of Mountain Dew on the living room floor.

"No, Arianna it's time for bed. It was time for bed-" I looked at the clock "-three hours ago." I quickly picked her up as I turned around to see Vanity, my eyes narrowing at that arrogant smirk she had plastered on her lips.

"What the hell Vanity? It's almost midnight and she's doped up on sugar." I glared at her as I started taking her upstairs to her room.

"Well, we were having fun and we lost track of time. It's the weekend Nikki, she's fine. Can you relax? She’s stayed up later than this before." I rolled my eyes as Arianna nodded at me.

I sighed, "Fine, at least you had fun. Did you save me ice cream?" I asked Ari as I took her to the bathroom and started wiping dried chocolate and Cheeto dust from her lips and cheek.

"Mommy and I ate it! She said you had dessert and wouldn't want any!" Arianna giggled like a maniac, "I'm not sleepy." I watched as she rubbed her eyes.

"Something tells me otherwise. Come on. Let's go get PJs on." I helped her down as we walked to her bedroom, "Any cookies left at least? You know daddy has a sweet tooth."

"Mommy ate the last of them. She wouldn't share with me."  Ari mumbled as she got in bed and grabbed her stuffed monkey. Anarchy then jumped on her bed and laid by her feet. I smiled at her and patted her head, "And Ana had cookies too. Her poop was funny!"

I hushed her, "Okay, okay. It's time for bed. I love you." I kissed the top of her head, "Sweet dreams  princess." She told me goodnight as I left her bedroom quietly closing her door shut. I headed downstairs seeing Van cleaning up the mess, "What the fuck, Vanity?"

She looked at me, "Huh?"

"Huh?" I copied as I rolled my eyes "Don't act fucking stupid. She never eats this much junk food so what gives? Is this because I went on a date?" I questioned as she laughed and tossed the garbage in the trash.

"Oh please-" she rolled her eyes at me, "We eat healthy all week Nikki so why not splurge on junk food?" She questioned as she fixed the decorative pillows and folded the blanket before draping it over the back of the couch.

"And you ate all of it? Aren't you trying to diet?" I questioned as I saw an eyebrow raise in surprise.

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm not playboy bunny skinny or baywatch actress skinny." She glares at me, "...and it's a high calorie diet!"

I scoffed, "Unbelievable...I fucking knew it. At least I can give a decent god damn time!"

"You just made a subtle comment about my weight so of course I'm gonna be upset! And good, I'm glad you had a wonderful time."

I laughed as I knew she was lying straight through her teeth, "Yeah, I'm sure you're really glad Vanity."

Van shrugged, "No, really Nikki. I'm happy you had a good time with her. Me and Arianna had a good time too. We painted our toes and took Anarchy for a walk. Oh! And we made the living room into a fort."

I exhaled slowly as I sat down on the couch, I glanced at her seeing her smile as she played her facade well, "Fine, I'm glad you and Ari had a good time too."

"So...where'd you guys go?" Van questioned as I looked at her, "C'mon tell me. I asked so I want to know." She says down beside me, resting her elbow against the back of the couch and putting her chin in her palm.

"Well...we went to that restaurant we always go to with Ari...the one down by the pier.." I glanced over at her, eyes narrowing as she nodded, "And then we went for a walk at that park with the duck pond."

"Sounds like fun. What did you two talk about?"

I laughed, "Vanity, relax. We just talked about normal first date topics but it was nice going there and not having to beg someone to eat something."

"What do you mean? Arianna has a good appetite. A lot better than most six year olds." Vanity stated as she flipped on the tv and searched for something to watch.

"Not the kid I gotta force to eat something other than chicken strips and fries."

"Why are you trying to start shit right now?" Vanity side eyed me, the jaw muscle twitching as she scooted away from me.

"I'm not trying to start anything princess. It was just nice to not a waste a breath on deaf ears." I chuckled a bit as I kicked off my boots and perched my feet up on the coffee table.

"It's cause you take us there all the time." She mumbled, "We never go anywhere else. I've already tried almost everything on the menu."

"That's not true. We went somewhere new a few weeks ago and you still ordered a damn chicken strip basket. Why can't you just eat like an adult?"

"Jesus Christ Nikki, I'm not gonna argue about my eating habits because it's pointless." I stared as she stood up and tossed the remote near me, "I don't want you to see her again."

I looked past her and kept my eyes glued on the TV, "We decided to try it and take the therapists advice, Van."

"No, you decided it for us. I didn't have a say in that conversation Nikki." Van spoke quietly, but I knew how upset she was getting by the way her voice trembled.

"...And I said, in front of you, I would be up for trying. Because what if-Van what if we're not meant to be like we think we are?" I looked at her, sighing and leaning my head back against the couch as I saw tears in her eyes.

"How can you even say that-"

"Because look at us Vanity!! Look at how much fighting we've been doing! All the snide comments and glares! We're just fucking hurting one another!"

I closed my eyes, hearing her sniffle a bit "If this was gonna be the end result then what was the point of New York and begging me to come home? I coulda just stayed there. I didn't want to come back home  just to see you going out with someone else. I don't want to do this Nikki. I don't want anyone else."

Van wiped her eyes when I looked at her, her eyes an almost honey color as they always were whenever she cried, "You really don't want anyone else? Or to even attempt to see someone?" I smiled just a little when she shook her head.

"No, Nik. I don't want anyone else. I just want you." She shook her head in frustration and looked at me, "But do you? Do you want me? Can you picture your future with out me?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Of course I couldn't see a future without her. The idea of her not in it scared the fuck out of me. She's my whole life, world and everything in between. No one else could ever deal or stick around with me like the way she could. But at the same time, is our future just going to be fighting to the point where we don't even love each other anymore? That we just stick together for Arianna? That we begin to resent and hate one another?

"Just...whatever Nikki." Van frowned and wiped her cheek when I took to long to give her an answer, "Goodnight and I'm glad you had a good time with her. I'm sorry you had to come home to a mess." She mumbled, her tone riddled with disappointment and hurt as she wrapped herself in a hug and turned her back towards me. I watched her as she went all the way up the stairs before turning around the corner.

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 2 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: thank u for being so lovely to me about this rewrite! this chapter was tricky to rework but i solved it in the end wOO! as always love will always be appreciated so if it’s ur first time reading (or even if it’s not!) feel free to shoot some my way!! here we go with chapter 2 of strictly au 2: electric boogaloo (yes i will be making that joke every time i resubmit a new chapter xo)

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

26th September 2020

Vanessa checks herself out in one of the full-length mirrors, her outfit a blur of red sequins and fringing and the flecks of glitter she’s spread across her collarbones and shoulders popping under the lights of the dressing room. She blinks slowly and carefully once, twice, then gives a little flutter of her immaculately-applied fake eyelashes.

“Makeup did a great job tonight,” she smiles appreciatively at herself. Akeria appears from behind her, squeezes her in a hug.

“Mm. Although I guess it helps when they get a canvas like mine to paint on,” she flutters her own falsies whilst framing her face with her hands, and Vanessa bats her away playfully. Suddenly they are nudged out of the way by Aja.

“Do you clowns mind? Some of us have to actually use these mirrors.”

“Yeah, let Aja in. She needs all the help she can get,” Shea calls from across the room, the girls giving a laugh and Aja giving a faux-wounded cry and dashing back across the room to whack Shea. Vanessa has missed this- the dressing room camaraderie, the gossiping and the occasional catfight. She’d marked out her territory in the long, white-and-metal room a few years ago when she’d befriended Akeria and Monique, and the three girls sit at the same three white vanity tables in the same three only-slightly-uncomfortable tan-stained white chairs, with their crushed water bottles and makeup bits and bobs and packets of dried fruit snacks scattered over the area like a bomb has gone off. The blast of hairdryers, hisses of hairspray cans, excited chatter and the playlist the dancers have all cultivated together combine to create one chaotic, noisy sound that Vanessa thinks is a little bit magical. It’s even more magical, more exciting and thrilling, now that she’s actually going to be partnered up with someone and have a proper Strictly journey.

“What’re y’all gonna teach as your first dance?” Monique asks, already touching up her eyeliner despite the fact she doesn’t need to.

“Hmph. Depends who I get,” Vanessa shrugs, a little thrum in her heart. “I wanna get some ballroom out of the way first though. Then it’s one less to choreograph.”

Monique hums in agreement. She knows Vanessa has limited ballroom experience, having competed almost exclusively in Latin competitions. Vanessa looks over at Jan and Jaida who are chatting excitedly with Plastique. They all knew each other from the ballroom circuit before they started on the show and Vanessa knows she’ll never be one of those dancers that exudes grace and poise, little paper dolls that float across the floor practically on tiptoe. Then again, those girls will never be a dancer like she is, all hips and curves, sass and fiery passion and playfulness. Well. Jaida probably could if she wanted to, but Vanessa remembers when the pros all did the Cell Block Tango number last year and Jaida kept getting the giggles at the sexiest parts and setting all the other girls off laughing. For one of the most attractive girls on the circuit, she balances it out with being a bit of a dork.    

“You sure you don’t wanna lead with your strong suit? Arrive with a bang, that sorta thing,” Akeria muses, and Vanessa shakes her head.

“It’s a long game, girl, you can’t peak too early.”

“Well my plan is to peak on the first night and then plateau. Tens across the board right through to the final,” Monique pipes up, touching her lashes and pulling a face at the mirror. Vanessa and Akeria share a long-suffering look and roll their eyes.

“Of course,” Akeria indulges her. “I’ll maybe do a Cha Cha Cha or somethin’.”

“Hey! I was gonna do a Cha Cha Cha!” Monique cries, appalled. Vanessa bursts out laughing.

“Bitch! There’s only about four dances you can pick from at the start anyway, if you wanted to be the only one doin’ it then lower your expectations,” she laughs at her friend. Monique narrows her eyes, turns around in her chair and calls on Crystal, hairspraying her long, dark wavy ponytail in place at her own vanity table. “Crys! What’re you doing for the first dance?”

Crystal turns around excitedly, looks to the ceiling in thought. “Oooh…some sort of samba, maybe? Start out difficult.”

Monique pouts, halfway to satisfied. “You heard what any of the other girls are doing?”

“Jaida’s undecided. Aja keeps talking about this vision she’s got for this rhumba to Chan Chan…oh! Jan’s doing a Cha Cha Cha.”

Vanessa stifles a laugh as Monique gives a wounded groan. “Damn it, Jan!”

Crystal laughs, shakes her ponytail out and shrugs. “To be fair, I think Jan’s planned out all her dances until she gets to the final. Nobody’s thought to tell her she might not get that far.”

“Hey! Heard that, asshole,” shouts Jan, a few tables down.

“Love you!” Crystal calls back, her voice typically high and sweet and ensuring nobody can ever get mad at her.

Talk turns to partners. It turns out Crystal’s got her eye on Jackie or Gigi, and Vanessa swears she can see a bit more blush appear on her cheeks when she tells her that Gigi was gunning for her as well. As some of the other girls who’re finished getting ready around them join in, Vanessa sneaks a look at her phone and idly scrolls to Instagram to find a certain comment that’s been running through her mind for the past month. A photo of her in the studio, it’s not even that cute; she’s got her old dance school hoodie on and a pair of black Primark leggings paired with her obnoxiously bright blue trainers, and she’s sitting on the floor fresh from her warmup holding her phone up to the mirror. Vanessa scrolls down, feels her heart give a little excited jump when she reaches the comment she was looking for.

bhytes:  😍😍😍

It’s dumb and embarrassing how much she’s scrolled Brooke Lynn’s profile since the girl followed her all those weeks ago. Vanessa had felt something inside her burst when she’d first seen the notification, and she still tries to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed when she saw that Brooke had followed most of the other pros too. Vanessa is only hung up on the girl because she’d be such a good partner. It’s not like they really flirted when they met, anyway- Brooke had just been joking around, and Vanessa had followed suit. Some jokes between two girls that had just met and had hit it off with each other stupidly well. It wasn’t anything more than that. Vanessa can’t take her eye off the ball this season; she’s in it to win, just like all the other girls. Being benched for two years has struck a determination in her that she’s not ready to let die. She remembers how confident Brooke was, how easily the moves came to her, how she dipped Vanessa safely and carefully but with such skill and how close they were pressed together when Vanessa came back up-

Alright, bitch. That’s enough of that.

Akeria yelling her name makes Vanessa jerk her head up from her screen, the other girls laughing at the surprise on her face.

“What are you even doing, Jesus,” Akeria mutters, grabbing her phone out of her hand. Vanessa gives a little squeak of outrage, trying not to blush as a shit-eating grin spreads across her friend’s face as she looks at Vanessa’s phone and the other dancers ask what she’s seen.

“Well, let’s just say we know who Vanjie wants to be partnered with,” Akeria smirks, the other girls descending into excited squawks as Vanessa clamours for her phone back and Akeria relents.

“Don’t make it weird, bitch, God,” Vanessa murmurs, trying not to be stung with embarrassment. Crystal pulls a sympathetic face, reaches out to place a comforting hand on Vanessa’s arm.

“Aw, Vanjie! It’s normal to get a lil’ crush on one of the celebrities, they’re all so beautiful and airbrushed.”

“Is it, though? Or are you just hung up on a certain model that you’ve not been able to stop mentioning every five minutes since you danced with her?” Jan quirks an eyebrow, the girls all laughing and screaming again. Vanessa thinks about bringing up Jan’s obvious infatuation with Jackie but then decides against it, remembering that her Mom always tells her people in glass homes shouldn’t throw rocks. Or whatever the saying was. Even though they moved here when Vanessa was two and she probably should be used to them by now she still hates figures of speech with a passion.

“Okay I don’t mind admitting it- whoever gets Asia O’Hara, you’re a lucky son of a bitch,” Akeria throws her hands up, and Monique rolls her eyes so hard that Vanessa momentarily worries for her vision.

“My God, Keeks! Mention it one more time, maybe there’s somebody livin’ in a fuckin’…croft in the Scottish Highlands that ain’t still aware you wanna climb Miss Asia like a tree.”

Vanessa bursts out laughing, joining the other girls. Shea whips her head around from her own mirror, her high, sleek ponytail tossing itself over her shoulder as she fixes them all with an unimpressed glare. “Oh my God, will you all stop being so horny on main for like, two goddamn minutes? Jeez. When was the last time y’all got laid, two thousand and fuckin’ ten?”

Aja laughs in outrage as she points an accusatory finger Shea’s way. “Hey, not all of us could marry a contestant, okay? Let these girls get laid already!”

As the girls all hoot and Shea looks ready to fire a playful comeback at her, one of the runners comes into the dressing room and shouts up a five minute warning. The dancers all explode with excited squeals and they all rush back to their dressing tables to do a last touch up of their makeup and strap themselves into their dance shoes. Vanessa feels her heart thrumming so loud and heavy in her chest that she regrets the Red Bull she’d sank earlier, her nerves suddenly consuming her. She walks into the corridor where some of the other girls are waiting, digs her feet into the soles of her shoes and takes two big deep, calming breaths like her first ever dance teacher taught her to do when the butterflies got all too much. They’re not getting their partners straight away- they’ve got the group dance to complete first, but after that they’ll be changing into uniform little white sparkly dresses and standing on the raised steps beside the dancefloor, ready for the celebrities to come out one by one. The very thought of seeing Brooke Lynn again, in person and all fake-tanned with a full face of makeup, is making Vanessa’s hands shake a little.

“Hey,” Courtney smiles at her, coming out to stand behind her in the corridor. “Good luck. You’ll be amazing.”

“Thanks, girl,” Vanessa smiles. Courtney is the Mom of the dancers, always looking out for the other girls and keeping the peace. Vanessa is appreciative of her calm presence just now.

“How’re you feeling?” Courtney asks, a little frown of concern on her face. She rolls her eyes at herself quickly as soon as the words are out of her mouth. “God. Sorry. Silly question.”

“I’m nervous as shit right now, I ain’t gon’ lie.”

Courtney smiles, takes her hand and squeezes it. “You’ll be fine. I’d be worried if you weren’t nervous to be honest. I still remember my first show. Just remember the dancing is the easy bit. It’s what you know. You’ve done it for two seasons already anyway, all that’s changed is that you get a partner! And that’s the best bit!”

Vanessa swallows, takes another deep breath. She looks at Courtney again. “You know before you get partnered? You ever get your hopes up for one particular celebrity?”

“God, obviously. It’s like when teachers say they don’t have favourites, but you know they do. Why?” Courtney gives her a wink which makes her blush out of embarrassment. “You got your eye on anyone specific?”

“Nah. It’s my first season competing, I’ll be happy with anyone! Can’t get too choosy.”

Courtney cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her. “Hmm. You’re a bad liar, Vanjie, but I’ll leave you alone. Have fun out there! Break a leg.”

Vanessa’s stomach gives a dip as she throws Courtney a supportive smile and turns around in the line. Monique reaches back, squeezes her hand and whispers a good luck to her, and before she can get a chance to compose herself they’re all off snaking their way in single file through yellow strobe-lit corridors, then through a dark maze of black curtains and cables and electrical tape, and finally out into the muffled excitement of the audience and the hot glow of the stage lights from the rigging overhead. As the producers and runners dash about like panicked mice, Vanessa takes another shuddery deep breath and takes her place beside Vixen, thanking God the show isn’t live but also knowing they’re about to do the dance in one whole take. She’s done this before, it’s not new. She can do this. It’s what she loves.

“Right, ladies and gentlemen! Are we ready to make history? First same-sex series of Strictly Come Dancing?” a producer yells out, the audience whooping and cheering and stamping their feet. “And five…four…three…two…one…”  

The lights go up, the smile is plastered onto Vanessa’s face, and when she starts to dance everything she has been worrying about melts away. It sounds cheesy, Vanessa knows it, but when she dances her mind literally cannot think about a single thing other than the music and the rhythm and the moves unfolding as if she’s telling a story. Vanessa remembers days spent on the couch with her Mom and a bowl of popcorn watching Billy Elliot, Dance With Me, Dirty Dancing (even though that one was a 12 and Vanessa’s Mom always told her not to tell her Abuela she was allowing her to watch it) and falling in love with dancing. As the pros finish off their dance to rapturous applause, Vanessa wonders what eight-year-old her would make of it all. She’s on the biggest dancing show on UK TV and she’s about to actually compete in it. Jesus.

Backstage, Vanessa’s hands are shaking so much that they fumble with the zip at the back of her costume change. She is a bundle of nerves now that the dance is done- that’s the only part about tonight she can control, and it’s over. Shea sees her struggling, bats Vanessa’s hands out of the way firmly and hoists the zip up her spine. Vanessa feels like a six year old who’s just had to ask their teacher to help them get dressed after a P.E. lesson.

“Thanks,” she mutters, Shea giving her a tight smile in return.

“Stop worrying. You’ll just get yourself in a flap. What’re you scared of?” Shea asks her, her stern voice turning soft at the end of her sentence. Shea doesn’t have a lot of time for nonsense, but the time she does have is precious, so Vanessa sighs.

“I’m just…God, I don’t even know. Worried I get a dud on my first year, I guess. I want to showcase myself just as much as I want to showcase my teaching abilities, if that makes sense,” she shrugs, looking in the mirror and making sure none of her dark brown baby hairs are breaking free from their hairspray prison.

“If I can give you any advice for your first year, I’ll say this,” Shea continues, checking her own reflection out until a runner shoos them back into line with the other girls. “Don’t take it too serious. Establish yourself, yeah, but it’s more about having fun with whoever you’re partnered with. When I let go and did that I ended up winning. Now, shit, don’t tell anyone I’m giving you advice.”

Vanessa tries not to focus on the fact Shea has just mentioned winning. The thought makes her heart give a thud she’s convinced could land her in hospital. She thanks Shea, gives her a squeeze on her shoulder before the girls are led out onto the stage again. Vanessa is positioned on one of the upper levels in between Akeria and Jan. They give each other a smile of encouragement, and Vanessa reaches over to take Akeria’s hand.

“I hope you get who you want, Keeks,” she whispers, as the producers look ready to begin. Akeria squeezes her hand as a thank you and drops it just as the lights go up. Vanessa feels her stomach churn as she looks down. There’s Michelle, contestant-turned-presenter ready to look into the camera and start reading from the autocue, and she’s beside the table of four judges. Vanessa hasn’t had many dealings with the judges before- she hasn’t had to, but the four friendly-ish faces she’s only so much as smiled at backstage now seem so scary to her.

“Ready to go in three,” a producer calls out, and a hush falls over the audience. Vanessa feels herself wobble in her shoes, wonders if she’d get fired if she fainted on the first take. Before she can think too much about it, the lights flood the stage and Michelle is announcing the first celebrity to be partnered- Heidi Cheek, or, to her listeners, Heidi Nina Closet. She’s dressed in a black sparkly dress which contrasts those of the dancers, and Vanessa realises the costume designers’ vision straight away. Vanessa remembers Heidi- she’d been one of the girls she’d danced with after Brooke, and she was sweet and funny and approached learning with a cheerful sense of enthusiasm, even if it had taken her a couple of tries to get the moves right. Michelle asks her how she’s feeling.

“Excited! It’s so different to doin’ my radio show, you know? I’m not used to bein’ on camera. They didn’t tell me I’d be goin’ through makeup at all. Everyone wore their joggers and gym clothes in rehearsals so I just thought we’d all be wearin’ the same things,” Heidi begins, the audience laughing already. “Also these heels! I barely even wear shoes at work, Lord. I can’t walk in these so how I’ll dance in them I’ll never know. Least I don’t need to fake tan like some of these other girls. That whole dressin’ room smells like a pack of biscuits.”

As the audience give another laugh, Vanessa can feel her heart hammer frantically as Michelle turns to Heidi. “Okay, Heidi. This…is…it.”

The lights go down, and Vanessa wants nothing more than to squeeze her eyes shut but she knows the cameras will be giving close-ups and so she stands, poised and ready, practising her not-looking-disappointed face in case she gets partnered with her.

“Your Strictly Come Dancing 2020 pro is…”

Breathe, don’t forget to breathe. Don’t close your eyes. Stop clenching your fists.

“Antonia ‘Vixen’ Taylor!”

Vanessa lets out a massive sigh of relief, her smile huge and genuine as she claps for the newly paired couple. Vixen races across the stage and lets out an excited squeal, Heidi crushing her in a tight hug. Both girls are clearly happy about who they’ve been partnered up with. They give a short post-pairing interview where they both squeal about how enthused and excited they are and Michelle sends them up to the auditorium. Vanessa claps them again then lets out another sigh. One couple down, eleven to go.

Michelle, a seasoned professional, copes well with the stop-start way that pre-recorded TV is usually filmed. Vanessa, however, stands and frets and wobbles in her heels through the next five pairings. Blair St Clair is paired up with Courtney next, and both girls are content with their partner. Blair just seems happy she’s got somebody who won’t eat her for breakfast if she makes a mistake.

“I’m so happy I got paired up with a winner!” she beams in her interview, her arm linked with Courtney’s. “And we had so much fun on the induction day, she put up with me so well. Even though she had to re-teach me the steps about twelve times.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! It wasn’t twelve!” Courtney soothes, then gives Michelle a cheeky smile. “More like ten.”

A clearly satisfied Peppermint is given to an equally happy Shea and, to her obvious delight, Akeria is paired with Asia. Jan gives an over-the-top display of sheer unadulterated celebration when she’s paired with Jackie and almost gives Vanessa tinnitus with the amount she screeches, and Vanessa finds herself beaming with joy when Gigi is paired with Crystal, both girls behaving like Care Bears when they reach each other, all soft cuddles and squeezing hands.

Michelle takes a quick drink of water, announces some special guest singer that nobody cares about to perform at the halfway point. The girls who’re waiting to be partnered are called off the stage and the fiftysomething country singer last relevant in 2006 begins setting up. Vanessa scans her eyes over the pros that are left. There’s her, Monique, Plastique, Aja, Phi Phi and Jaida.

“Who’s still not been partnered up?” Phi Phi hisses urgently, her face determined as she addresses the other girls.

“Yvie Oddly hasn’t got anyone yet,” Plastique mentions calmly. “Or the Love Island girl.”

“Farrah,” Aja corrects her, then pulls a face. “Scarlet Envy’s not got anyone yet either.”

“Has Brooke Lynn been given anyone?” Vanessa asks rhetorically, as if she hasn’t been waiting with every embryo she possesses for the girl to come out onto the stage.

“No,” Jaida shakes her head, oblivious to the fact Vanessa already knows the answer. “And there’s Monet and Willam. So there’s three…maybe four girls still left that we can win with.”

“Hey, Scarlet has potential,” Monique shrugs kindly. Plastique snorts.

“Potential to what? Earn the lowest scores ever recorded?”

Phi Phi covers her hand with her mouth as she giggles, and Vanessa frowns at them both.

“Nobody’s winning with Willam either. The woman’s treating the whole thing as a huge joke,” Phi Phi continues.

Vanessa can’t help but send a barb her way. “I don’t know, girl, she seemed pretty clued-up when she was with me. But I guess a bad teacher always blames her students.”

Plastique and Jaida let out a squeal which they muffle behind their hands. Monique grabs Vanessa for support as she splutters a laugh, and Phi Phi scowls at her. “Well I’m not the one that was-”

“Would y’all just shut the fuck up for, like, two minutes?” Aja hisses, lowering the rapidly escalating volume of the conversation. “Unless we wanna be picked up by the mic and get round two of the half-decaying Darius Rucker impersonator that’s out there.”

Aja is friendly and funny but she’s scary when she wants to be, so the girls take a telling and fall silent as the song is finished. It’s not long until they’re led back out onto stage and are assembled onto the same podium as last time, and the cameras are rolling again. Next out is Willam. It says a lot that the stage makeup manages to tone her down, the gentle grey smoke across her eyelids a far cry from the riot of glitter that had been scattered over them on induction day. Michelle begins the interview.

“Now, Willam, you starred in Brittania High a few years ago, that was a bit dance-y - do you think that’ll come in handy during your Strictly journey?” Michelle is asking her. Willam brushes a stray hair out of her face and shrugs.

“I mean, I didn’t do too much of the dancing? I was a leading lady so I got most of the ballads. And most of the lines. More a main character than a backing dancer, really. No shade to any of my ex castmates, of course. Except Detox. Rotted bitch.”

“CUT!”

Vanessa bites her lip hard to try to stop a laugh coming out. Willam looks amused, if a little perturbed. “Is that not allowed? It was just a joke, she knows I love her really. Family show? Oh, okay.”

Vanessa can’t help it and lets out a laugh along with some of the audience. Phi Phi’s face doesn’t move.

“Okay Willam, time to see who your partner will be.”

The lights go down again. Even though it’s now the seventh time this has happened, Vanessa still feels as if she’s surviving a near-death experience every time someone new is paired up. It would be good to be paired with Willam. She’d be fun. She’s got potential. She’d work hard. She wouldn’t be disappointed at all.

“…It’s Phi Phi O’Hara!”

Oh, fuck. Vanessa sucks her lips into her mouth, tries not to laugh as the fake smile takes hold on Phi Phi’s face like a mask as she runs over to Willam, gives her a polite hug. She is raging. Serves her right for being mean.

“Willam Belli! What an enormous…” Phi Phi tails off, gesturing at the woman beside her as she searches for the right word. “…pleasure…it is to be paired up with her!”

Vanessa catches eyes with Monique, almost splutters a laugh. Phi Phi’s delivering everything through gritted teeth. Willam is smiling beside her, although her gaze keeps darting up to someone in the auditorium. Vanessa wonders if there’s someone she would rather have been partnered with.

Phi Phi is led off smiling demonically, and then Yvie appears by Michelle’s side to be paired up next. She is given to Jaida, and both girls seem happy with their pairing. Next out is Farrah. Vanessa’s heart lifts. She didn’t get paired up with Farrah at all on induction day- they’re both too small to be each others’ partners and so far there’s been at least a little bit of a height difference to each pairing. Still, though…Vanessa can’t get too complacent. She puts her hands behind her back and crosses her fingers and hopes she won’t get chosen, feeling like she’s on her first day at Hogwarts and Michelle is holding the sorting hat.

“…Aja Rivera!”

Vanessa is almost sick with relief, but as Michelle interviews the new partners she can’t help but feel almost a little dizzy with nerves. There are only three celebrities left: Scarlet, Monet and, of course, Brooke Lynn. The producers stop filming and arrange Vanessa, Plastique and Monique on the same level so as they’re not too scattered across the stage.

“You look like you’re about to throw up. Or faint. Or maybe die,” Monique whispers to her, concerned. Plastique rolls her eyes.

“Leave her alone, Mo, it’s her first partner,” she chastises her. Vanessa is grateful for the sympathy and doesn’t acknowledge how right Monique is. She does feel as if she’s about to do all three of those things, possibly all at the same time. Just as she thinks things can’t get any more nervewracking, the lights go up, Michelle announces the next celebrity, and Brooke Lynn appears.

Vanessa feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. Brooke’s hair is tousled and swept over one shoulder, the black smoke of eyeshadow the makeup department blended onto her eyelids makes the green of her eyes pop, and the character heels and the fringing on her black sparkly dress means that Vanessa’s eyes can’t help but be drawn to her legs. This is the girl she’s been waiting for. If she gets Brooke, she knows she can go far, she knows she can do a lot. She hardly hears a word Brooke says in her interview, all Vanessa is doing is repeating prayer after prayer- she’s not even that religious but her Mom, Tia and Abuela combined have probably said enough Hail Marys on her behalf to garner her a decent amount of favour with whoever’s up there, so she gives it a go.

“Okay, Brooke, let’s see who is going to be partnered with you for your Strictly journey.”

The lights go down. Vanessa swears her heart stops beating. She casts her eyes to the ceiling, not daring to meet Brooke’s. Her palms are way too sweaty to be normal. She clasps them together but they’re still shaking like crazy. The room is silent save from the single drum beat that’s serving to build tension. It’s doing its job too well, Vanessa thinks. She swears this pause is longer than all the others put together. She can hear the catch in Michelle’s throat as she’s about to speak, her heart soaring high with anticipation.

“It’s-”

“Cut!”

There’s a groan from the audience. Vanessa is going to faint right here, right now, filming be damned.

“Sorry, we’ve got a problem with the lights, it’s hitting Plastique’s face all weird. Can we sort that?…Okay. Thanks.”

Vanessa is no longer nervous. She’s now just impatient. As she taps her foot frustratedly and sweeps a glance over the room, she’s determined not to look at Brooke. She wonders if she’s looking at her already. Unable to help herself, she sneaks a look and instantly meets Brooke’s eyes with her own. Her heart leaps as if someone’s just turned the key in its ignition. Brooke unsuccessfully stifles a smile, sends her a wink as if they’re the only two people in the room. Vanessa waggles her fingers in a wave, then snaps her gaze away as the producer silences the audience again. Michelle repeats her line, the lights go down again, and Vanessa’s not scared this time. She’s thinking it into existence. She knows it’s going to be her. Michelle just has to say it.

“…it’s Vanessa Mateo!”

Vanessa screams. She knows her face must be an absolute picture as she sinks to the ground in shock, gripping her face with both her hands. She can hear Monique and Plastique laughing and clapping above her, and she can barely walk in a straight line as she rises back up and dashes across to hug Brooke. Brooke’s smile is almost splitting her face, and she breaks away from Michelle and runs towards her, picking her up and twirling her round in a tight hug that Vanessa never wants to break free from. She’s done it. She and Brooke are partners. She gets to work with her for as long as they’re in the competition together. Maybe Vanessa will start going to mass after all.

“Oh my God,” Vanessa eventually says, as Brooke carries her in the hug for as long as she can manage then deposits her down beside Michelle who is laughing so hard Vanessa wonders if they’ll have to do another take. They do not. Instead, Brooke drapes an arm around Vanessa’s shoulder and pulls her close. Without knowing what possesses her, Vanessa takes her hand. She looks up at Brooke who’s looking down at her and they laugh together, sharing a ridiculously huge smile.

“Sorry. That was too much,” Brooke says apologetically. The audience laughs along with Vanessa.

“Uh, Vanessa,” Michelle starts, laughing a little through her question. “It’s your first year with a partner, I probably- well I don’t- need an answer, but I have to ask…how do you feel about being partnered with Brooke?”

“Listen,” Vanessa composes herself. She’s out of breath and her voice is hoarse from screeching, but she’s getting this out. “If you knew what this girl can do, you’d be screamin’ like a banshee too, Michelle. She’s so talented, I know she’s gonna be incredible…God, I can’t wait to win this whole thing with her.”

Everyone laughs again, but Vanessa’s only looking at Brooke. The girl’s eyes crinkle up when she smiles, and it only makes her look ten times more beautiful than she already is. Not that that’s weird. Just an observation.

“Brooke, how do you feel?”

Brooke looks back down at Vanessa, still smiling. “No, I’m the exact same. I know we kind of look like a bar chart together, but we just work. I knew I wanted to be her partner since induction day.”

Vanessa gives a happy sigh. She wants to wrap both her arms around Brooke and to not let go. Part of her feels like she’s lifting the glitterball already. Brooke is a trophy and Vanessa feels like a winner.

“Well, congratulations to the pair of you. One last time, give it up for Vanessa and Brooke Lynn!”

Vanessa drops her hand down and Brooke catches it in hers, the pair of them running past the audience and upstairs to the auditorium where the other girls are ready with excited squeals and hugs for them both. Vanessa accepts them all gladly, and when she is finally released she is positioned at the bannister beside her new dance partner. She turns to her and smiles, Brooke easily returning it, and Vanessa is suddenly bashful.

“Hey,” Brooke smiles at her cheekily.

“Hey,” Vanessa grins, looking to the floor awkwardly. “Sorry. If I freaked you out. Guess my reaction was kinda too much.”

“Girl, did you see me? I was spinning you round like a fucking windmill. If anyone should be apologising it should be me.”

They both laugh softly. Vanessa shrugs a little. “Least we know we’ll be good at lifts.”

Brooke raises her eyebrows and concedes, and Vanessa tries not to get too excited about the fact she can say the word we. They fall quiet as the producers call for hush and Scarlet is led out. As Vanessa listens to Scarlet’s interview, she can feel Brooke’s eyes on her and she turns to face her, unable to stop the smile creeping back onto her face. Brooke looks caught out for a second before she leans in close to Vanessa to whisper to her.

“I meant it, you know. I’m so happy I got you. I wasn’t just saying it for the cameras.”

Vanessa gives a happy sigh, places her hand over Brooke’s that’s clinging to the bannister. “Me too, girl. This is where it all begins. Let’s win this damn thing.”

They don’t let go of each others’ hands until the final pairing is announced.

[katsukiboom]

#1: Is That So?

The number was taken by @ravenrainy! If there’s anything you’d like me to switch up just let me know!

Prompt:

fem!reader accidentally eavesdrops in a private conversation of two girls while at a party with her boyfriend. She’ll hear them talking about her and how she isn’t good looking enough to be with him, but it all quickly vanishes once she returns to him. 

Character of choice:

Shinsou Hitoshi

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Another one of those fancy parties you were forced to go to meant just another wasted night you could’ve spent doing something much more productive in your terms, like catching up with your favourite TV shows or even reading that book that had been gathering dust on top of your desk for months and that you’d promised you’d finish before the end of the year.

The reason you had to go? Simple – you were Shinsou Hitoshi’s girlfriend and he had almost begged you to come with him despite knowing fully well you weren’t content with those situations, but you would always comply since you knew just how dull and pressuring the gatherings with other pro-heroes could be for him, and you wanted to be there in case he felt like giving up. It had happened a few times before and leaving with everyone’s stares on your back felt like you’d never be able to show up anywhere else ever again… yet there you were, clad in your fanciest clothes and holding your boyfriend’s hand tightly as he spoke with someone from the Hero Council.

It would be lying to say you always felt fitting for those celebrations; being from a smaller agency always meant getting confused by someone from the press or worse if you weren’t with Hitoshi, but that didn’t bother you nearly as much as the stares from other heroes that either felt hateful or just curious enough to make you feel transparent, just like your quirk made you, but that didn’t stop either of you from enjoying the party to the fullest.

At that very moment, with his arm tightly wrapped around your waist and the couple glasses of champagne already influencing your actions (curse that damn low tolerance, you thought to yourself, and you knew Hitoshi was just the same) you felt like you were at your best, but you excused yourself for a moment to go to the bathroom. Having to go through basically what felt like the whole room until you reached the black and golden doors, each with their gender sign, felt exhausting – as soon as you entered you splashed some water carefully on your cheeks and a little bit on your nape, trying your best to get your skin and body temperature to return to their normal states as well as your spirits, checking your image on the mirror before hearing someone entering the bathroom.

You took the chance to quickly go into one of the stalls and, just as if they hadn’t noticed you were there as well, you could tell there were two girls but their words did less than impress you. “Did you notice how good Control looks tonight?” you immediately blushed as you realized who they were talking about – Persona Control was just the professional alias your boyfriend had picked, and while you weren’t exactly fond of it there was a ring to it you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“He looks amazing!” the second girl replied, more excitement than anything in her voice, and you guessed it was one of his many fans. “But… is that his girlfriend? I legit thought he was dating Pinky given the few pictures that surfaced last month.” Those pictures you knew very well: it was one of the many business meetings Hitoshi had, but thanks to Mina’s insistence they met privately at a restaurant instead of either of their offices. You both had laughed a lot when they appeared on the media with bright red letters that claimed he had already gotten a new partner, but that was it for you.

“You don’t know? She goes with him to every celebration, it’s like she’s his shadow or something,” the first one said with a snarky tone. “I really don’t know what he sees in her or what he found attractive – she looks very average to me.”

You looked down on your dress and for the first time that evening felt like you could’ve bought something better, something shinier and prettier and that made you stand out a lot more from the crowd, yet it was the dress that Hitoshi had gifted you a few nights earlier, something he picked himself: it was a deep blue strapless dress, the top made out of lace and satin and the skirt showered in tiny details that, according to Shinsou, made it look like a river of stars put on the fabric, a delicate cut going from the middle of the thigh to the bottom to expose your left leg. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to listen to him you thought, but there was little you could do about it now.

“I think she looks good,” the second one admitted but nothing else came out of her mouth. The short conversation changed once they had finally washed their hands and then they started walking away while chatting about the food in the place, their heels clicking on the floor and leaving a faint echo behind.

You came out of the stall shortly after and noticed your cheeks were bright red as you looked at the mirror, and somehow couldn’t help picking on different things about yourself after that – the eyeliner was too much, the lipstick was a bit smudged, the top felt too tight all of a sudden and the skirt was a bit dirty. Taking a deep breath, you allowed your mind to calm down and proceeded to fix your appearance just enough and then walked out of the bathroom as well, the talking of the crowd and the soft jazz music increasing in volume as you got closer.

Standing at the edge of the mass, you searched the room for Hitoshi and when you finally spotted him your heart dropped to the ground; he was talking with another woman, someone whose face was hidden from you by your boyfriend’s head but you were sure about what was going on. You didn’t let anger take over you though and you made your way to them, determined to bring him with you but his reaction when you tapped on his shoulder and he turned around surprised you more than anything.

“Babe! You’re here!” he exclaimed, a little too loud for your taste – you could’ve sworn the champagne glass on his hand was empty before you left. “I want to introduce you to Miss Hinata; she’s the current head of the office, arrived just a few weeks ago. I was just telling her about you and the possibilities of getting you a place there as well,” he explained calmly yet you couldn’t help yourself from looking at her with a smile and some resentment, but when she reached out to shake your hand and smiled back you were puzzled.

The woman was tall, slender and with good taste in fashion, wearing a full-black long lace and silk dress that hugged her in all the right places, and your mind immediately wandered to dark places before being brought back by her soft voice. “I’m truly pleased to meet you!” she said. “Shinsou talks a lot about you, both in the office and here – I’ve been dying to see the ‘stunning beauty’ with my own two eyes and he wasn’t wrong,” she let out a laugh that was almost contagious, and you quickly turned to Hitoshi with confusion written all over your face. What are you even saying about me? You mouthed at him but he only shrugged and wrapped one arm around your waist. “You’ll have to tell me where you got that dress later, but first we need to talk business. Shinsou will let you know when the interview will take place… if you’re interested, that is.”

“Y-yes! I’d love to,” you were quick to reply, a bit of a blush appearing on your cheeks as you added the next part in a small murmur. “… and I really like your dress too.”

For the next few minutes she talked about everything Hitoshi never really told you about, like the framed picture of you two he has on his locker (you were wondering where that picture had gone), or the many times she found him worried that something bad would happen to you when you had missions of your own, or how he sometimes gushed about having the most beautiful girl next to him whenever someone talked to him about it. All those things made your heart race, and almost absentmindedly you sneaked closer and closer to him until you could place your head on his shoulder. It felt like home, truly.

Hinata excused herself as a member of the Council called for her, and you both were finally alone again, Hitoshi taking the chance to turn you around and wrap his other arm around you as well. “You took so long in the bathroom it was as if you weren’t here anymore, I missed you,” he said, the smell of champagne strong in his breath.

“It was just a couple of minutes!” you retorted with a smile that quickly vanished as you thought of the two girls and their chatter, and he seemed to notice that as well. Biting your lower lip, you asked just loud enough for him to listen, “Do you really mean everything you say about me?”

His expression turned into a confused one – you were sure his mind was trying to figure out where that had come from, but you wouldn’t have the courage to tell him it was just because of some dumb comments you heard. “I mean every little thing I say about you, and no matter the context you’ll always be the most beautiful being around.” His purple hair was a bit messy and you brought one hand up to straighten it, and he was quick to grab it and bring it up to his lips; PDA with him wasn’t uncommon but it still felt strange. “Pay attention to me now, please – I don’t want you feeling like you’re not stunning, and I’ll go to the end of the world and back if it means you’ll see it too,” he added as he placed a soft kiss on your knuckles, then on each finger, and one last one on the back of your hand.

You blushed once again and let out a giggle as you replied, “You’re getting drunk, love.”

“I might be, but once I sober up I will still be madly in love with you and there’s no changing that.”

[starlightsoulwriting]

Constellations Against Skin

n.t. “You hold him in your arms, a thousand stars in the bones of a man, and nobody could have thought you’d come so close to holding constellations against your skin.”

Dean Winchester X Reader; Castiel X Reader

Soulmate AU

[AO3] [Chapter List]

Two: Awake

You faded in and out of awareness for a day. Nurses moved around your room, taking your vital signs and redressing your wounds. Everything was fuzzy and floaty, like there was fog between you and the rest of the world. You heard voices, fading in and out. People you knew. There was a warm presence next to you - it felt like cherry pie and cedar-smoke. Like home. You reached out for it.

There were so many thoughts and feelings where you were. The energy was so jumbled and sad and sinking. Hope and despair and relief and worry and pain in a horrible emotion soup forced down your throat and into your lungs. It was too much.

At some point you thought you dreamt of an empty, echoing church and a boy with green eyes.

Your soulmark felt horrible on your ribs, the burning threatening to pull sobs from your throat even in your sleep. So much of you hurt.

It was that pain that woke you up.

You groaned, opening your eyes and blinking against the lone, dim light buzzing above a sink. The small room smelled strongly of disinfectant and linen. Shuffling noises echoed in the hall and a soccer game played lowly on TV. Voices on an intercom would occasionally interrupt the quiet, unobtrusive sound around you with loud beeps and cracking microphones.

Your head was cloudy, but you were aware enough to be yourself - even if your brain felt like it was stuffed full of cotton instead of thoughts. You had no idea how you got in this hospital room - and it was clearly a hospital room. You... didn’t remember anything after you took out the werewolf. Were you still in Wyoming? How much time had passed? Had you been in a car accident?

Wires and tubes stuck onto and into your body made it hard to move. You recognized the IV, EKG, and Oxygen mask but the rest of it was foreign to you. You wanted to get up and walk around, but were afraid you would wind yourself into knots. Besides, sharp pain shot through your whole body whenever you moved. You didn’t think you were going anywhere. It was worse than you were used to, and you were used to pain.

You reached out for the ‘call nurse’ button, but one of your hands wasn’t moving the way it should’ve. You looked down - your non-dominant hand was in a cast, your pinky, ring, and middle finger wrapped in gauze, leaving you with a lobster claw instead of a hand. The blue wrapping had a warding sigil written on it in sharpie - one that you had as a tattoo. Why had someone put that there? You didn’t need it twice. Your right leg was wrapped all the way up your thigh with fiberglass, and you couldn’t move it for the life of you. A frustrated sigh left you before you could help yourself. Just your luck.

You felt like you came down with a very bad cold and then ran into a wall face-first.

Every part of you that you could see was covered in bandages. A mask covered your mouth and nose; you could feel the faint tickle of oxygen coming through and brushing against your nostrils. There was even a fucking tube in your throat. You could feel it chafe every time you moved - it came out your nose and you had to stop yourself from gagging around it every other second. It gave you the worst sore throat you’d ever had on steroids.

The nurse better haul ass, you wanted this thing gone.

And your ribs, holy shit. Was that extremely painful or completely numb? Hell if you knew.

You stretched uncomfortably, choking back a grunt of pain as you reached for the remote that was just a little bit out of your reach.

A sharp intake of breath came from the door and something light hit the floor.

You turned to see none other than Dean Winchester - a man you’d been wanting to meet since you were fourteen, when you met John the second time. He’d been all too happy to shut that idea down quick, though. He hadn’t even wanted you around himself at the time, let alone his kids - a fact that never changed even after you started hunting in earnest around the same time Dean had. Didn’t need his sons meeting the freak, right?

John’s rejections had always hurt more than you were willing to admit.

You recognized Dean from the photos, though - more recent ones, and from the familiar soul thrumming through him. Different than his father’s gunsmoke and whiskey, yes, but the threads were there - you knew a Winchester when you felt one. Dean felt like campfires and old cars. A pine forest on a summer night.

You flushed scarlet. Of course when you finally met your dead friend’s hot son you looked like a drowned cat that got hit by a bus. (You felt like that too). You were injured to hell, but you had eyes - and you were in a hospital bed. There was no way you could flirt with him like this. Who the hell flirted while they were in the hospital?

This fucking sucked.

You made a pointed effort to avoid looking in his head. You didn’t need to hear his thoughts, they were probably just filled with the general hunter concern tinged with curiosity that you felt yourself when working a case. You didn’t have your necklace, which you’d enchanted and blessed yourself, so you were getting a metric shit-ton of the disjointed brain chatter and stray emotions it would normally keep away. The drugs dulled your senses somewhat, so it was more like cafeteria noise than legible thoughts, thank god. You would just have to not focus on him too much. Easy.

It wasn’t easy, he was very attention-grabbing.

Wait.

Were you a case?

Dean just looked at you in shock and then at the cheap coffee he’d spilled on the floor.

“Hey,” He gave an uneven smile before crossing the room to the sink and grabbing a few paper towels. “Bobby’ll be glad you’re awake.”

“Bobby’s here?” . You lowered your face mask to speak. That hurt more than it should’ve. Your throat was dry as hell, and your voice came out in a harsh, cracking whisper around the feeding tube.

You felt like crying. Had he been worried about you? How did he even know where you were? Had the hospital gone through your things?

You’d really missed him.

Dean coughed and looked away from you. Of course he would - he probably didn’t know how to deal with a random crying chick more than any other hunter. Which is to say, not at all. You blinked away your tears for the sake of both your pride.

“Yeah, he’s asleep back at the motel. Stayed here all night.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “He only agreed to go back if someone stayed here with you.”

You sighed, settling back into the lumpy hospital pillow. “Can you get the thingy?” You pointed at the Call Nurse button. You were not stretching like that again, your whole body felt like it was on fire and underwater.

What drugs had they given you?

He nodded again, handing you the remote. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

“I know,” You rasped, with a wink that hurt way too much to make. Very sexy of you. “Nice to finally meet you.”

That caught him off guard, apparently. He gave you a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised comically higher than the other. You would think this man had never been flirted with by a grievously injured monster hunter before.

His deer-in-a-headlights look was cute, though.

You figured you should explain yourself. “John never let me anywhere near you and Sam, even when he kept telling me how great y'all are. Always figured it would be cool meeting a hunter my own age, though.” You gave the best, genuine smile you could muster and held out your good hand. “I’m (Y/n).”

He shook your hand, and you had to stop yourself pulling away in shock. Your energy had leapt out at his and latched on, sending a blush straight to your face and a warm, tingly feeling to your soulmark.

It’d never done that before.

You both yanked your hands away, looking away from each other.

Had he felt that too? He must’ve, right? If his flustered expression and red ears were anything to go by, then yes, he had.

Great, as if you weren't already a freak.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll go call Bobby. He’ll want to know you’re up.” He started, walking backwards toward the door. You nodded, hugging yourself as best you could and kept your eyes firmly planted on the wall. “I, um - I got your message, by the way.”

“What?” Your eyes shot up to meet his, confused You didn’t have his phone number. Was he talking about the polaroid of John you mailed Bobby to give the boys?

“Oh,” He waved you off, still walking backwards. He tripped on the trash can. “Nothing. You know what? Forget I said that.” And he left, pulling out his cell phone.

But you saw the sigil scratched on his hand - the same one that was on your cast. The same one that hid you from demons. One from your personal collection of Enochian seals. The one you hadn’t seen any other hunter ever use ever.

That’s sure interesting. You wondered idly if that’s what he thought your message was. But, as far as you knew, you couldn’t do something like that.

The nurse rushed in only a minute or two later, interrupting your thoughts, and looking absolutely beside herself. She didn't let Dean back in for a while, because right after her came the bedraggled Dr. Reyes, whose hair was threatening to escape her bun and run away. Apparently you were the biggest case in the hospital and she had just been… waiting for you to wake up.

The tests she ran were annoying, but you slogged through them all the same.

You could follow the pen with your eyes fine, your pupils were dilating fine, you knew it was 2006, and you didn’t seem to have any memory problems.

And nobody was answering any of your questions. Dr. Reyes just vaguely said there was an accident but refused going into detail, asking how much pain you were in when you pressed further. A different nurse than earlier brought in a new IV stand, hooking it up and handing you a button. Pain drip, she’d said - press when you needed more meds.

You pressed it as often as the damn thing let you.

Dr. Reyes agreed to take out the feeding tube shoved down your throat, but only after you proved you could hold down meals. And that meant you had to wait at least until after lunch, if not dinner. Boo.

You resisted the temptation to look at their thoughts to figure out what was going on. You hated, hated, hated doing it on purpose. It felt intrusive and gross to reach into somebody’s head like that and pull out what you wanted. Like prying a snail out of its shell.

And it reminded you too much of your time in New York.

When she was done looking you over, Dr. Reyes sat down on her rolling stool and leveled you with a serious look, face sad and empathetic but no-nonsense. “You don’t remember what happened?” She sighed when you shook your head, but continued. “Would you like me to tell you what happened, or would you like your family to come talk to you? I can come back later and explain everything medically if you’d prefer it that way.”

You swallowed, fear spiking in your chest at her tone. Bobby had brought at least Dean with him, and you had no reason to believe Sam hadn't followed. Why would he do that if it wasn’t something bad? This was serious, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t have brought back up if it wasn’t. If it was a normal case he would’ve come alone.

Did you want Bobby to tell you?

Yes, yes you did.

He’d been there after your parents died, and for most of your teenage years; he’d already seen you at your worst.

So you waited a few minutes for the nurse - Callie, her tag said - to get him from the waiting room. He’d apparently gotten there just a few minutes after Dean called him. Dr. Reyes left with the promise of coming back in an hour or so to go over your chart and explain all your injuries, wires, and treatment options.

Bobby looked like he hadn't slept in a week. You weren’t the only one who looked like a drowned cat, apparently. He squeezed your good hand for a second and pulled up what you were sure was a horribly uncomfortable plastic chair. He gave you a sad smile - which made you feel worse, nerves rising in your chest even more. He was never this soft-looking. “How you doing, kid?”

You just shrug weakly, making sure not to move too much, and acting more nonchalant than you felt. “Confused.” You murmur, before looking away and biting your lip, wanting to curl in on yourself but unable to, pain singing in your muscles at your attempt. You hit the pain button again and huffed when it made a beep that meant you’d already gotten your next dose. “I don’t remember how I got here.”

He sighed and sounded centuries old. You felt bad for asking him to come in, for making him so tired. You wanted to make him turn around and get some sleep. To stop worrying about you so much. But he would give you a better idea of what happened than the doctor could, if this was related to a hunt. And you had a sinking feeling it was.

“I think that’s a good thing, champ.”

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him, searching his face for answers. He just looked exhausted. And you felt just how drained he was. How frustrated, how angry. Heavy.

You felt like a little kid again, waiting for him to tell you why your house had been set on fire. Small, and confused, and clueless. “What happened to me, Bobby?” You breathed, voice small.

You were suddenly afraid to hear the answer.

“Alioth found you. Hurt you real bad,” He started, and you took in a sharp breath that stung your ribs like a bitch.

That stupid demon had been after you for years. But you’d exorcised him last year. He’d never been able to crawl out of hell so fast. You normally had two years of freedom from him at least. Bile rose in your throat and you wanted to run anywhere but where you were. He could be anywhere now.

Had he been exorcised? Were you still in danger? How had he found you?

Who had saved you if it wasn’t Bobby? Because it sure as hell hadn’t been Bobby, you could feel as much. Did you save yourself? You doubted that, as much as you wanted to believe you’d been able to kick his ass all by yourself.

You needed to leave now.

Bobby put his hand lightly on your arm and you jumped, eyes going wide. “You're safe now. Me, Sam and Dean are gonna find the son of a bitch and send him back to hell if he so much as breathes in this direction.”

You just nod stiffly, staring at the wall, frozen in the sitting position you had bolted into in your panic. “How bad is it?”

“Well, I think you should ask your doctor that-”

“Bobby.” You didn’t have time for this.

Would you be able get discharge papers or would you have to sneak out yourself? Could you even sneak out like this?

“Your insides are fine, besides the fact that your heart’s real stressed out.” He sighed again, clearly either oblivious of your impending panic or hoping it would go away by itself. “You’re going to have a lot of scars, though, kid. I’m sorry.”

You forced yourself to breathe. To think, to let that sink in. You looked straight ahead and tried not to imagine what you looked like under your bandages. You would listen to the doctor first, figure out how to handle your wounds, and then get discharged against medical advice. For sure. You could do that. That was a plan.

You didn’t cry.

You refused to cry. Not for your vanity, and not out of fear. It was part of the life, nothing you haven't dealt with before. It’s not like you had anyone to impress, anyway. You were tough, you told yourself, it didn’t matter. And you had three hunters with you. If a demon so much as sneezed there would be a lightning storm, and they would help you get out of here before he found you again.

Not like you would be hard to find, given how much everybody seemed to be talking about you.

"What day is it?" You changed the subject, stubborn to avoid your freak-out. You could drive three states away and follow up with someone there by the time anyone realized you were gone. No need to hyperventilate. It was just the thing that killed your parents. No big deal.

"July tenth. Monday. A bartender walking home heard fighting and called 911 the night before last." He looked at you hesitantly, like he’s afraid of what he could hear. "So what… Do you remember?"

You had to shut your eyes to think past the blank spots in your mind. It was hard - you felt all floaty from the meds, thoughts slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Everytime you thought you latched onto something you hit empty, gaping holes where the memory should be.

So you found the very last solid memory, and focused.

A gunshot.

Yellow eyes going dark. A body falling to the floor. Cleaning up a scratch on your shoulder. Putting weapons away in your Mustang.

"Finishing a wolf hunt." You croak, wishing you could get yourself some water. "After that there's nothing." You shook your head, frustrated, and run your hand through your hair.

"Do you know where you might've been heading?” Bobby pressed. “A motel, a store, a bar?"

"A bar." The memory flashes. You'd wanted a drink. "The country-themed one by the book store. It was crowded."

--

"Dude, I wanna ride the bull."

"Dean, you're not riding the bull."

"Not now, obviously," Dean said on their way past the machine and toward the back of the bar. It was empty, a little past three o'clock in the afternoon, and the place had just opened. The mechanical bull was mocking him, artificial red eyes glowing under the tin-can lights. "When we finish the case." He heard Sam's annoyed huff and chose to ignore it. He was obviously just too intimidated to try and didn’t want Dean to upstage him. Duh.

Dean flashed his FBI badge at the bartender, and his brother did the same before speaking. "I'm Agent Wright with the FBI; this is my partner Agent Mason. We're here about the attack Saturday night. We have reason to believe the victim was here earlier in the night."

That was Dean's cue to pull out an polaroid Bobby had given them, sliding it onto the counter. It was from last year. A headshot. You were smiling and covered in grey mud, just after you’d wiped off your face with your sleeve, your arm still pressed against your cheek. Your hair and shirt were trashed. There'd been some spell ingredient you were digging up and it rained the night before, but you hadn’t been letting that stop you. You sent pictures to Bobby pretty often, apparently, though Dean had never noticed. Maybe he had them all hidden in a box somewhere?

Oh, he was so snooping when they got back.

The man behind the counter - his name tag labeled him as David - shrugged after eyeing the photo for a moment. "I wasn't in on Saturday," He nodded to the back. "Duncan was though, I'll go get him."

Sam nodded. "Please do."

"David and Duncan, huh?" Dean muttered when the man was out of earshot. "As if this place needed any more D-bags."

Sam made a choked noise, leaving Dean with a wry grin. The worse his brother reacted to a joke the better he'd done, in Deans humble opinion. Half the fun of road trips was torturing him. Captive audience.

Duncan came out and crossed his arms, apparently swapping places with David. He was standing maybe a little too tall, puffing his chest a bit too much. He didn’t look happy to see them. "You think that girl who got attacked was here?"

"Considering she said so, yeah," Dean said, nodding at the polaroid. "So?"

Duncan took a moment, squinting. "Maybe." He shrugged. "She might've been the rum and coke I had around nine-thirty, but I can't be sure." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "The place was packed, dude. I could barely keep up with orders, let alone remember every single face. "

What a beacon of empathy.

Sam and Dean just looked at each other. "Do you have security cameras?" Sam asked.

"You’ll have to ask the boss." He waved them off, making to leave.

Sam cleared his throat, stopping him. “Then go get them, please.”

Back at the motel, Sam worked his laptop open and Dean studied a map of the small highway town - seeing if there were other cameras they could track your path with. He was circling businesses and intersections along the shortest route between the bar and the paper mill where you'd been found.

He'd been careful to hide his hand from view while they'd been out - he didn't need randos thinking he was satanic.

It had been a shock, waking up with the sigil scratched into his hand. But Bobby reasoned that it was a message, somehow. It was the same tattoo you got on your leg - the one the demon burned through. As far as Bobby knew it was a kind of ward - made it hard for demons to track anyone wearing it.

It freaked Dean out, personally. You'd been unconscious and ten blocks away from him and you left him with that? It gave him the heebs and the jeebs. He was really looking forward to eavesdropping on Sam's inevitable conversation about psychic powers with you.

But Dean drew it on your cast nonetheless. Your protection had been stripped away, and he didn’t see a reason not to give it back to you.

And that wasn’t even mentioning whatever the hell happened when you shook hands. It felt embarrassing, somehow. Vulnerable, like whatever that energy was had shot through all his walls and shone a light on his insides. You’d seemed just as surprised as him and he didn’t like that one bit.

"Got him," Sam said suddenly from across the table, flipping the laptop around so Dean could see the feed - the camera at the back exit of the bar. A guy in a suit - the dead guy they had yet to get an autopsy report for - held you by one arm and shoved you into the alley, making you almost fall on your face. You weren’t reacting at all, just letting him push you around. He could see the shakes in your legs, though. Why weren’t you doing anything?

Then Dean saw the gun in his hand. Great.

"The place was packed, right?" Sam started, and Dean knew where he was going with this. "He must've gotten the drop in her."

Dean sighed, running a hand down his face. He should’ve gotten a drink when he could’ve. "Everybody in there was a hostage and the dumb bastards didn't even notice."

Sam just nodded. "I mean, it's smart. If she starts something, he can either play the victim or start shooting people."

He kicked Sam’s shin under the table. "Don't compliment the demon, Sam!"

"I'm not complimenting the demon!” He kicked back. “I'm just wondering how we would handle it. With all those people in danger."

Dean held his arms out in a ‘duh’ gesture. "Wait until you’re in a dark alley and then fuck him up when there’s no one he can hurt."

Sam hummed judgmentally at him.

"What?"

"This is from the bookstore’s footage." Sam turned the laptop around again to a different alley.

It started the same as before - the demon pushing you along. But after a second you elbowed the guy in the face, grabbing the gun from his belt in the same move. Before you could do more, he fisted a hand into your hair and shoved you against the brick wall. He made to punch you, but you ducked and kneed him in the balls, making the demon let go of you and double over. You grabbed his head and kneed him again, this time in the face. Three times, actually - Dean could see dark blood spatter onto the concrete below you.

And then you punched him in the stomach and ran, legs wobbling dangerously.

You made it all the way to the end of the alley. But the demon reached its hand out and you froze, entire body going stiff. You stood stock-still for a breath. Then your body jerked backward, flying through the air and landing you bodily against the demon's chest. He didn't look happy.

He dragged you out of frame.

"Looks like she thought so, too, Dean." Sam was wearing his bitchface.

What was his problem? Had he not slept again?

"What do you want me to say?" Dean aggressively opened a beer. "Oh, boo hoo, we're fucked if some bastard tries that? We fight, dude, even when the odds are shit. (Y/n) obviously thought so too."

Sam shrugged. "I was thinking more along the lines of ideas."

Dean groaned at his brother.

This fucking case.

--

It was later - much later, after you’d had bland hospital food and proved you could hold down meals. Callie had already pulled the tube from your throat, thank god. You’d gagged around it and thrown up on the floor, but she told you it was normal, to not worry about it, but you were embarrassed anyway, pulling the scratchy blankets over yourself and curling up as much as you could. You were able to keep the rest of the food down after that, though. You hid in your blanket cocoon as long as you could manage.

Screw the tube.

You were leaving in less than an hour, and would be in the back of your Mustang on your way to Bobby’s. Dr. Reyes was understandably concerned for your wounds, but you would rather leave now than risk Alioth finding you. If you needed to, you could check in to a new place in South Dakota. As long as it was away from here it didn’t matter.

Callie started changing your bandages one last time before you left, making sure you knew which wounds needed what kind of wrapping, that it would all be in the follow-up file they would send with you and on and on. You had to try stupidly hard to remember it all, but it was better than staying in this place, so you endured, partially comforted by the fact that it would all be written down.

Dr. Reyes had made it clear that ‘Someone’ (Alioth) had taken a torch to your soulmark. You’d been trying not to think about it while you waited for discharge, mindlessly playing the sudoku book Sam, who you liked almost instantly, brought by after lunch. He was smart and kind - and he offered to help you when you were out of the hospital, that he could stay in Bobby’s other spare room. Although, he did seem relieved when you let him know you wouldn’t need it. You had enough money to hire a nurse to come around once a day to help you change your bandages. Being psychic made you a very good poker player.

The worry about your soulmark was there all afternoon, though, despite the idle distractions you made for yourself.

You asked to look at it when Callie was changing the wrapping.

You know, like an idiot.

You could still feel it under the pain and numbness. It wasn’t so shallow a connection that it was dependent on the skin above it. It was in your soul, after all, and the mark was just the spiritual made physical. It wouldn’ matter if it was damaged. You would be fine.

You repeated that to yourself as the Callie brought you a hand mirror, and held it so you could see the left side of your ribcage.

You almost screamed.

Your entire soulmark was gone.

Completely. Gone.

All of it, replaced with a swath of discolored, grafted skin. The only bit left were thin, decorative wisps that barely brushed beyond the edges of your graft. But the important part - the name - the strange name written in a dead language that kept you waiting for miracles when there were none to be found - it was gone.

You fought against any tears that were forming and stubbornly tried to avoid your feelings. This was stupid. It was just a pretty word on your side, you shouldn’t be so upset. You could still feel the warm glow of your connection, you would be fine. But there was still a gaping sinkhole in your chest.

It was thirty seconds before a tidal wave of grief hit you.

You crumpled in on yourself with a shriek, whole body wracked with painful, painful sobs that shook your frame and made all the hurting ten times worse. It felt like a part of you had been ripped out and thrown in the trash. Like a part of your soul was torn out with a rusty ice cream scoop, leaving raw, torn edges. An empty, burning, ache rose in your chest and pushed out everything else, hollowing out your lungs and filling them up with a burning saltwater nebula.

There was a reason only serial killers went after soulmarks.

“It’s okay, honey, don’t you worry, okay? Marks are stubborn. Everything will be just fine in a few months, just you wait,” Callie shushed you through your snotty sobs and brought you tissues, trying her best to be reassuring as she hastily re-bandaged your side. “I’ve seen them regrow over scars, or somewhere else altogether, it’ll just take some time.”

But that hadn’t been the point.

Alioth wanted to hurt you and it had worked. It was violating and ruthless and it just felt so wrong to the core of your being.

You wanted to scream.

Instead, you did nothing at all, opting to stare at the ceiling and let yourself grow numb as Callie changed the rest of your bandages. The roaring sea subsided eventually, leaving nothing but fog in its wake. You were empty.

You didn’t ask to look at the rest of your grafts and cuts. The room was quiet against the background shuffle of the hospital. You didn’t say goodbye to Callie when she left.

You shut your eyes as tight as you could and returned to the cocoon of your blankets, eyes still burning with fresh tears.

I’m so sorry, Castiel.

Wherever you are.

A/N: I’m actually pretty proud of this story for once. I’m so excited to get to the good bits, we just have to get through the setup! So, let me know what you think so far! I’d love to hear some feedback. Anyone else out there a hoe for Dean Winchester? Cause I am! Who boy, and just wait until Cas shows up!

Until next time, thanks for reading!

[buckyspetpsychopath]

Celebrity crush

David Dobrik x reader

Vlogsquad

Masterlist

I walk onto the set for my interview. I am a model. I was doing a interview today and I'd seen lots of other people do the interview and it seemed like a good time.

i sit down and we start filming. We get a couple questions in and i’m having fun.

-who is your celebrity crush?

The interviewer asks and immediately i blush and my manager groans. “don’t get her started” she yells so the camera can hear and i giggle.

“my celebrity crush is david dobrik, he’s a vlogger and hes the cutest person on this planet” i laugh and throw the paper towards my manager who was rolling her eyes behind camera.

“what is a vlogger?” The interviewer asks.

“they like video their day and then compile it into a video, in davids case he does it for 4 minutes and 20 seconds” i snort getting a couple laughs. “but him and his friends are awesome, they’re called the vlogsquad and theyre just crazy, but in the best way” i explain and they nod so we continue with the questions.

“if you were to collaborate with one other celebrity who would it be?”

“well if it was modelling i think its only fair to say kendall jenner or something, i met her at the victorias secret show and we exchanged numbers. we talk quite a lot so i think that would be cool” i humbly brag. “But also as im such a huge fan of vlogsquad, id really like to dance with mariah” i giggle and turn my head to the camera. “i think you’d find that two running themes in my life are chipotle and vlogsquad videos” i laugh and shrug. The interview ends and i go home. About a week later the interview airs on youtube and i sit down to watch it, blushing at how much i spoke about david dobrik.

Davids POV*

I was just chilling at my house with todd, Scott, zane, heath, natalie and alex when Jason and Trisha burst in.

“Trisha was watching an interview and you guys need to see it” Jason says collapsing on the couch and connecting to my TV. A moment later the model y/n pops up on the screen, also my celebrity crush. The guys look at me and laugh. Little did we know she had mentioned us.

“Who is your celebrity crush” she is asked and i lean forward.

“my celebrity crush is david dobrik, he’s a vlogger and hes the cutest person on this planet” she laughs and my heart stops. The guys jump up and start freaking out. She starts explaining to everyone wht vlogging is and what we do but i can only hear my heart beating.

“Dude she likes you!” Zane screams.

“She said youre the cutest person on this planet, like how cute. I knew when i saw it i had to show you” trisha laughs. Im still sat on the couch shell shocked.

“Dude” todd hits my arm and a flip switches, i jump up and start woohing. The guys all laugh and do the same patting my back.

“Should i dm her? She might think im weird? What if she didnt mean it and it was just like a joke, shes probably confused or something i mean shes a model. Shes friends with the jenners and she was in the victorias secret show why would she have a crush on me?” I ramble.

“I dont know dog but she does. She likes YOU” jason says pointing the camera in my face that id failed to notice. My face heats up and I lay back on the couch trying to act calm.

A couple days later

Normal POV*

I had seen Jason Nash’s video and it had given me butterflies seeing David’s reaction. I didn’t even comprehend that he could’ve watched the interview but I don’t regret it. I was in the middle of a photo shoot when I’m sat on a chair.

I shrug and start posing when all of a sudden the music stops and I hear a lot of shouts behind me. I turn around quickly and the first person I see is David Dobrik. I almost choke and fall back on my chair but David rushes forward and catches me, holding me bridal style. My eyes widen and he laughs whilst turning me to everyone else, which was surprisingly the most of the rest of the vlogsquad.

I look up at David and he smiles down at me.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you” He whispers.

“Y-you too” I blush as he sets me on the floor again. I look around at all the vlogsquad waiting to speak with me, watching my reaction. “Omg I need a minute” I choke out crouching on the floor. I hear a lot of laughs and try to calm my breathing. I stand up again and start hugging them as a greeting. When I’ve got through everyone that was there: David, Todd, Scott, Kristen, Jason, Trisha, Carly, Erin, Alex, Corinna, Heath, zane and Mariah, I hold my cheeks in amazement.

“Wait, what is going on? Is this actually real?” I ask earning more laughs.

“We could ask the same to you!” Zane comments and I blush.

“I contacted them after that interview, thought you needed to stop whining on and on about them” my manager smiles. “And david” she adds sending a wink his way. My face drains of colour and I turn to him.

“Oh my god, I’m so embarrassed” I exclaim and he laughs walking forward to hug me again.

“If it helps, you’re my celebrity crush too. I never stop talking about you to the guys” he whispers in my ear. “Do you think when we get a minute alone I could get your number?” He asks quietly pulling away. I raise my eyebrows at him and he smirks. I giggle and send him a wink, confirming.

“So what now” I laugh as everyone awkwardly stands around. The crew had turned the cameras off and I dread the moment it’s uploaded to the internet. The photo shoot is clearly over, considering it wasn’t even real.

“Well why don’t you go get changed and we can hang out” jason smiles and I all too eagerly rush off to change into my regular clothes. When I come back they all smile and we leave, we split off into cars and I near collapse when David takes my hand leading me towards his Tesla. My eyes widen as I look up at him and he smirks.

“You wanna drive?” He grins and my eyes almost pop out.

“You don’t let anyone drive your Tesla” me and Jason say at the same time and we laugh at each other. David shrugs and holds his arm out pointing me towards the door. I smile and head towards the drivers seat. When we get seated the car is silent, Alex, corinna, Jason And Trisha we’re riding with us.

“David you don’t let anyone drive your car!” Trisha exclaims and david groans.

“Why’s everyone saying that” he sighs.

“Because it’s true!” All four of them yell and I blush as he looks at me embarrassed. I lean over and rest my hand on his knee and he seems to calm down. He starts pointing out to me how to put it in drive and everything and I start driving towards the mall so we could all pick up some food. We have the radio on and Jason and david are filming while we all jam out.

“Oh yeah, guys this is y/n” David laughs into his camera so I wave, taking my eyes off the road for a second. Soon enough we reach the mall and wait for the others to arrive, it doesn’t take long. We go to the food court as we all want different things. We agree to meet in the middle and we go off to our respective food places. David and I are the only ones who decide to go to chipotle so we head in that direction. We order and then we’re waiting in line chatting, getting to know each other when there are a bunch of squeals behind us.

“Omg you’re David Dobrik”

“It’s y/n y/l/n”

“Omg are you guys dating?”

A load of teen girls scream. I glance at David and he’s laughing whilst recording them. We say hi to the girls and take pictures. Our food is called so we pick it up and when we turn the group had gotten a lot bigger.

“Look guys, we wanna meet everyone but could you respect that we’re about to eat. Well take pictures after”David says and they all start off into chatter. The only way to get to the “squad” who were sat in the food court with their respective meals was to go through the group. So, David laces his hand in mine and pulls me with him through the crowd. I’m blushing as he keeps hold of my hand even as we get passed the group and all the way to the table. We sit down and are teased for it of course, but David waves it off as just trying to get through the group. We finish our food in peace and then split off to take pictures.

When we’re done we decide to go back to David’s, to avoid another situation like this. Some people go home, so it leaves Jason, Trisha, corinna, Todd, Scott, Kristen, Heath, Mariah and zane going back to David’s.

“Well this was a totally unplanned day, I got to meet my favourite people, drive David’s Tesla and I’m going to his house” I joke and they all laugh. We make it to David’s and the boys immediately crack out the beers. I meet natalie, giving her a huge hug and she seems ecstatic that I wanted to meet her. We all sit on the couch and they take turns getting to know me better.

“I feel like a make a wish kid or something” I snort and they laugh.

“You’re part of the squad now kid” Todd smiles hitting my foot with his. I smile wide and look towards David who smiles brightly at me and my heart leaps.

“I think we gotta mention though how david was just as equally shitting bricks this morning” corinna teases.

“Yeah you’re his celebrity crush too, nonstop talks about you” jason chimes in.

“He watched the entire VS show just to see you in it” Todd winks and David groans.

“Guys can you stop”

“I think it’s cute. Maybe I’ll show you one of my outfits one day” I giggle as a joke and the guys all ‘ooooh’ whilst David goes bright red.

Everyone falls into their own conversations so I scoot closer to David who was pressed into the corner of the couch.

“I still can’t believe I’m here” i exclaim and he laughs resting his arms behind my head.

“I can’t believe a model is sitting on my couch. A model who has a crush on ME” He sticks his tongue out and I smile.

“Are you joking? You’re hot as fuck David” I grin and he stops his playful grin, getting more serious.

“Do you wanna go see my garden?” He blurts and I laugh, nodding and getting up, pulling him up with me.

We’re barely noticed as we head outside going right to the end of the garden. The sun had started to set as we lean against his glass fence.

“I feel like we’ve known each other for ages, not just today” he whispers.

“Me too. I’d really like to get to know you more though, I don’t want you to just be my celebrity crush” I whisper back. He bites his lip and turns his head towards me.

“Is it absolutely too soon if I were to kiss you right now” He asks gently and I shrug.

“Life’s to short for waiting” I mumble and grab the back of his hair softly pulling him towards me and connecting our lips. He wraps his arms around my waist and we smile into the kiss.

“That was amazing” I comment and he raises his eyebrows.

“So I can do it again” he teases.

“You better” I joke as he captures my lips with his again, slowly moving to prod my lips with his tongue. I open my mouth slightly and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in. We start making out when suddenly there are a lot of shouts and lights pointed towards us. We pull away out of breath and laugh as everyone freaks out.

[griffinwriting]

1.The Bank Job

Tobias Clarke wasn’t a bad kid. Of course, it really depended on who you asked and what their standards were. That being said, he wasn’t the worst kid. He certainly knew of kids that were a lot worse than him, but he was no saint.

He was dealing with the cards that were dealt to him, at least that’s what he kept telling himself. He had to admit that he knew jack-shit about card games and would probably lose a lot of them. But he did know if there was a shitty hand to be dealt, it was this one.

Tobias crumpled the paper fast food bag and tossed it in the bin, he found the old tv remote and switched it on, he always needed some background noise to distract him.

His apartment was nothing of the sort, not an actual apartment at all. It was a couple of cosy rooms built out of leftover building materials. It sat on the fifth floor of an old and abandoned New York City building, mid-construction when abandoned. The apartments he visited when he was house-hunting were all amazing but the people asked too many questions and wouldn’t take a seventeen-year-old who looked like he had slept in an alleyway seriously. Although they had a point not to, back then he was sleeping in the subway.

So he found the abandoned building, paid off the old man who owned it and made a few shoddy shacks, it was home.

Tobias ruffled through his drawer and picked out two leather duffel bags. He plopped them on the table and went to find his other belongings, stopping before the wall. The wall was plastered with pictures and posters, newspaper articles and building schematics.

He bit his lip, pondering if he should really go through with it.

Dealing with the shitty hand dealt to me.

Of course, robbing a bank is probably not the best way to deal with your problems. But Tobias had run out of options, and he hadn’t seen Robin in a while.

This was going to be different from normal bank heists though, he placed his car keys in the duffel bags, phone, headphones and extra cash just in case, but no guns. No one was going to be hurt and the bank itself was owned by the city’s own corrupt mayor, the one that had shut down businesses for the promise of another mall. So really no harm done.

Tobias switched between channels until he found the news and went to get changed, the sound carrying over from the living room.

The news anchor looked distraught as she read from the teleprompter.

Another witness of supernatural this morning as one woman claims to have seen an African American youth in the South Bronx at approximately eight AM. The woman claims the teenager disappeared in front of her eyes before reappearing behind her, he appeared to teleport a few more times before finally leaving the witness. This is the sixth report of supernatural abilities in the last seven months, forcing some people to take the streets in panic. The US government has not issued any statement regarding this surge in the supernatural which has angered a lot of people, this just begs the questions. Is the government as clueless as the public? When will the supernaturals start hurting people? Are we safe? 

More on this after the break.

Tobias muttered under his breath as he flicked it off.

Fearmongering media. He rolled his eyes.

He grabbed the duffel bags and left down the elevator. The Brooklyn air was filled with the smells and sounds of the city, mostly just a lot of traffic.

Tobias rounded the corner to see a familiar face.

Emily stood by his rusted 78 Chevy. Her blonde hair curved around her slender face, her lanky figure hugged by the baggy clothes she wore, her favourite hoodie almost three sizes too big for her.

“Tobias.”

Shit.

“How the hell did you find me?” he asked.

“I have a phone Toby, it wasn’t that hard,” she responded.

He chuckled and held her in a tight hug, “I have missed you Em. How’s it been?”

She thrust her hands into her pockets and her face deadened.

“Shit. Jones is furious, been calling cops all over to find you. The kids are scared, keep askin’ bout you.”

Tobias unlocked the Chevy and thrust the duffel bags in, a knot formed in his chest. The kid's faces flashed through his mind and a pang of guilt rushed through him.

“I’m sorry for leaving like that, I uhh… needed to get out.”

They both went silent, Emily’s glassy eyes started to well but she held her composure.

“I got a couple interested,” she said, “Over in Queens, they seem serious about it.”

Tobias’ face lit up. “No way! Well, you always said you would get out.”

He smiled, “You better stay in touch right?”

“Course I will, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” she said, playing with the inhaler in her hands.

She took his phone and punched in her number, “You text me whenever you can okay? I uhh gotta get back, before anyone notices I’m gone.”

Tobias enveloped his friend in another warm hug, hoping to god it wouldn’t be the last. He smiled as she turned and walked away. He opened the car door.

“Toby…”

He turned back to her.

“Please go back. It ain't much but at least it’s a warm bed and food, the kids can’t deal with it alone and you know that. You can’t just run away to live in a construction building?”

Her voice was frail, tears running the mascara down her cheeks.

“I promise I’ll make things right,” he said nodding, he bent down and kissed her cheek. “I just need a little time.”

They said their goodbyes and Tobias climbed in the driver seat, he took a few breaths to calm himself before turning the key. He pulled out and sped down the street, the conversation still ticking at him. Once he stopped at a light he fumbled for his phone and scrolled through his playlists, music was a good distraction.

He scrolled past the Beatles and the Zepplin, and even Nirvana. Stopping at Blue Swede, he pressed and the bubbly, gorilla-like intro of ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ bounced from the speaker system.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see the kids again, or even that the house was that bad. It was just the atmosphere he hated. The disappointing soul-sucking banality that was led at the St Christophes Orphanage. Watching as kids get adopted left and right while the disabled, sick and older children are invisible. Emily and Tobias had been the only ones who looked after The Forgotten as they called themselves. There was Macy, the eleven-year-old mute who had a secret addiction to red vines. Tom the paraplegic fourteen-year-old, who even though it wasn't cool anymore, adored the power rangers. The six-year-old twins, Gabby and Danielle who could beat anyone at chess. When going up against each other the games could last hours. And seven-year-old David, type 1 diabetic but could always manage to put a smile on anyone’s face.

Emily had been there a couple months before Tobias had, her parents killed in an accident and his parents just gave him up. 

No one wanted them so at the orphanage they stayed. And Tobias was sick of it, the emotional rollercoaster that goes through the kids when a family is interested. Everything seems good until they pull the rug out from under you, either the family loses interest or doesn’t have the money. Tobias and Emily had both had their souls broken before they hit puberty.

So once the opportunity presented itself, Tobias ran. He hadn't planned anything, just took what little he had and slept where he could.

But then it happened, the media had called it The Surge. Reports of teenagers gaining powers of extraordinary magnitude, all around the globe and out of the blue. Controlling elements, changing the weather, breathing fire. Just like out of a movie, except the movies never showed the dark side of superpowers, the riots, the beatings. Humans did what was true to their nature, they didn’t understand it so they fear it, they attack it.

Somehow amidst all of this, Tobias became even more invisible. But that was okay for him, now he could do whatever he wanted and no one would bother him. Peace at last.

Tobias pulled into a parking lot, the engine rumbled and spluttered to a stop and he paused the music, putting his feet up and watching.

A few moments passed and he began to wonder if it would ever come. 

Maybe I’m too late? Maybe it’s not coming today?

The familiar bank logo passed on the armoured truck, it pulled into the parking lot and around to the back of the Bank of NYC.

Tobias smiled. Perfect.

He checked the time on his phone, 11:27. He stuffed his phone and headphones into his pockets and grabbed the duffel bags.

He opened the door and was flooded by the sounds of the city, the birds that sung overhead, the cab’s many horn honkings and the chattering of passersby. 

He stopped in front of the bank doors and took a deep breath.

Freeze.

The bird songs stopped, their wings spread out but motionless. The chorus of cab horns went dead. The passersby as still as statues.

Not only had The Surge made him more invisible by focusing on the ones with superpowers, but no one had seen him because he was never there. At least not according to time, he could get in and out without a single second passing.

It was odd at first, he woke up and felt different. A weight that accumulated in his chest, it travelled up his spine and to his head. A tingle and then a burst of power rippled through his body. Then it was just there, a single thought, almost like an instinct.

There had been a few theories about the apocalypse from sweaty men who talked fast on the tv, the ones who could control water would create tsunamis, the ones who could shoot fire from their eyes would turn the world to ash. But Tobias didn't think the ability to stop time would harm anybody, it couldn’t end the world. All it did was make his life a little easier and for once it actually was easy. 

Didn’t get any sleep? Stop time and take a nap.

Late for a train you need to get? Stop time and get to the subway.

Need to rob a bank from a corrupt government official because he’s an asshole and you need money? Stop time and rob that bank.

It was a plus four in the Uno game that was his life.

He smiled, relishing the perfection of stillness. 

Fumbling in his pocket, he took his phone and plugged in the headphones. The music flooding his ears made him chuckle slightly.

The bank was nice and cool, it was busy today.

He went through a series of doors and plucked one of the teller’s security badges, swiping it on the door, the LED flashed green and let him through. The hallway was narrow but it was perfect, the bank worker pushing a cart, paralysed. The vault door, wide open.

Tobias ran past the worker, the cart full of money was enticing but would be too obvious, the vault was where he should be. With it’s round doorway over his head he continued inside, rows of safety deposit boxes lined the walls but they were all locked. Three more carts sat inside, stacks of hundred notes piled on top of them.

Tobias couldn’t help but jump with excitement. 

‘I’m high on believinnn’

His hips swayed, his feet shuffled.

‘That you’re in looooooove with meeeee’

He held his phone like a microphone as he danced across the vault floor.

His grin spread even wider, he started shoving stacks into the duffel bags. 

Five thousand. Hundred thousand. Half a million.

Holy shit.

Soon his duffel bag was full, he reached for the second but stopped.

Don’t be too greedy, there’s still the second bank.

That being said, Tobias wasn’t convinced. He was staring at more money than he’d ever hope to spend. 

Most people would stare at the mountain of cash and think about the Bahamas, private jets or the newest Ferrari. Tobias looked at it, his thoughts weren’t about extravagance. His mind flooded with needs. A lifetime of insulin for David, a better wheelchair for Tom, food for the rest of his life, a house for him and the kids. He turned away from the cart.

Half a million was all he needed, so half a million was all he took.

He ran back out, past the worker and back to the bank teller, placing the security card back in her pocket. The duffel bag was heavy, but he didn’t mind.

His body flowed with adrenaline as he skipped his way outside. He flitted back to his car and shoved the bags in, he sat down and closed the door.

Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes.

Go.

The chorus of cab horns played again and the passersby resumed their walking and chattering. Tobias waited, expecting the worst.

After a moment he grinned again. No sirens.

He started the car again and the engine roared to life, as did the speakers. This time it was Queen’s ‘Another one bites the dust’. The car’s clock ticked from 11:27 to 11:28.

He drummed his fingers on the wheel to the beat, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs as the joy almost burst out of him. 

He sped down the road grinning to himself.

A minute later he took a right and pulled into the parking lot of his favourite place in Brooklyn, Ivan’s Ironic Ice cream. Tobias had gone there every week since he ran away and he still hadn’t found out how it’s ironic. 

Freeze.

He grabbed the duffel bag and walked out into the hot sun.

The bell rang above the door as he entered, the ice cream shop was relatively big for Brooklyn. There were a couple people scattered around the tables, frozen mid-bite. Tobias chuckled as he noticed one woman whos dollop had fallen off the spoon, the drop merely suspended in the air, waiting for gravity to carry on with it’s thing. The walls were decorated with posters of ungodly portions of ice cream but he didn’t mind, he wasn’t there for the decorations.

He turned to the counter and placed the duffel bag on a table.

A brunette stood smiling behind the counter, talking to her co-worker. Her slender figure hidden behind the baggy t-shirt with the shop’s logo on it. Her blue eyes glinted in the light and brought out the sharpness of her cheekbones. The pin attached to her T-shirt read Robin.

To Tobias, she looked perfect. He would tell her that if she’d known he had existed. Not in the talked-once-at-school kind of way, but the way in that every time he came in he would stop time so she literally had never met him.

He smiled as he went behind the counter and began a concoction of flavours to die for, a ball of mint choc chip, some banana pecan and maybe a touch of caramel sauce with a sprinkle of chocolate chips.

Tobias had been experimenting with combinations but had found this to be the best, he never actually paid for the ice cream directly. First, he’d have to calculate how much he owed and then he’d have to put it in the register. That just seemed like too much of a fuss for one ice cream. Instead, he placed down his pot and plucked a stack from the duffel bag. He opens up the black box labelled ‘tips’ and shoves in the whole stack. 

Tobias figured it was more than fair for a struggling Brooklyn business and besides, Robin probably needed it for something.

He sat and ate his well earned treat listening to the likes of Elton John and ABBA, although he did get up and dance a few times as well. Once he finished, he turned to leave but noticed something.

A girl sat in the corner, her mascara painted down her cheeks as she stared at the phone that lit her face. Tobias wondered over, curious. 

She wore a face of pain and Tobias couldn’t help but look at the phone. It was a string of texts and the contact had a heart emoji, but the last text stood out to him.

‘It’s not you, it’s me.’

“Ohh what a dick,” said Tobias, shaking his head. “Is he seriously using that bullshit?”

A split second decision led him to search for a pen, he came back with a sharpie and another stack of hundreds in hand.

In his messy handwriting he scribbled.

I’m Sorry Darling, 

you deserve better than him.

XXX

He fumbled around her jacket and stuck it in her inside pocket.

With a new sense of having done the right thing, he nodded everyone goodbye and left.

He climbed back in the car and laughed to himself.

Go.

The long line of traffic behind him began it’s steady shuffle again and he joined the line, with a bag of money and speakers blasting. It had been a rather succesful morning, but that did not deter Tobias from checking out the second bank, no harm in it if no one would know he’d been there.

He made his way through the painfully slow traffic until he found it.

The building was a glass fortress, it’s thick walls an architectual beauty. Once the traffic cleared for him to take the turning, he veered off and into the parking lot. 

Freeze.

He crept the car slowly around the building, and found the back door. The Bank usually kept that locked and it would’ve been, had one of the workers not been holding it open on his smoke break. 

Tobias grinned, it was almost too easy. He grabbed the empty duffel bag and left the car in park, with music blasting in his ears he jumped up the stairs and over tot he worker.

The name tag was a jumble of letters that could have read Jerry, but Tobias had no idea. The cigarette he held to his mouth had a warm glow to it, Tobias flicked it and it soared through the air and landed on the ground below.

“You know Jerry I’m saving you in the long run,” he said patting him on the shoulder and moving on past him.

 The inside of the bank was a series of long corridors that confused Tobias, it looked easier on paper. But eventually he found himself going through a door, the right door.

Then he walked into the truck bay, where no more than ten workers were unloading three armoured cars. Tobias’ face lit up. He rushed to them, plucking up stacks of hundreds here and there. He hopped up to the back of a truck and looked around, half was money and the other half was filled with mountains of white bags. Tobias poked the bags and felt it was soft.

I can do without the cocaine. He thought to himself, turning back to the money. 

With another bag full he hopped out and was filled with joy, his hands almost shaking.

After rearranging a few stacks to make it look like nothing had been tampered with, he stood back and looked at his work.

The next song came through his headphones.

Queen, ‘Don’t stop me now’.

Tobias leapt back through the doorway, prancing his way down the corridor.

His feet skipping on the carpeted floor.

Don’t

Stop

Me

 Dancing with a bag of over half a million dollars strapped to your back is a very difficult feat to achieve yet he did it, his body swaying from the office and into the lobby. Kicking doors open and spinning through them.

“Oh, Oh, Ohhh Explooooode!” he screamed, weaving through the still people.

It felt good to win. It felt like his life was actually going to get better.

He hadn’t just won poker, he’d taken the whole damn casino.

He clicked his fingers, the wire of his headphones flinging along with the sway of his head.

He closed his eyes, even with his singing every word his smile was as strong as ever.

He was high, the power, the music, the money. It was exhilarating.

“HEY!”

He froze. His eyes opened, a girl stood the other side of the room, she was moving.

He yanked out the headphones. 

Did I start time again?

The people around him still paralyzed, motionless.

But this girl walked towards him.

Go.

“Who the hell are you?” she screeched.

Freeze.

“And what the fuck is going on?”

Tobias clicked his fingers along with his powers, turning it off and on again.

His stomach turned, “What?”

“Ww...WHAT?” he shouted.

Freeze.

The girl stared at him in amazement.

He stared back in disbelief. This couldn’t happen, it was impossible.

“Ohh fuck.”

Tobias did the only thing he could think of.

He turned and bolted.

[badluckcllub]

verse | desolation sound ch | sam wright, stevie brewin, charlie mcgrath, adam tourney, marisol bowers summary | sam wright plans to spend one night in desolation sound, but desolation sound wants more than one night out of him. 

chapter one of who knows how many. ps. this is long so if you actually read it i love you with all my heart. 

Things have been unchanged in this sleepy little town for decades. People are born, people die, but only within the confines of the city limits. Those who stumble across this place tend to leave as quickly as they arrived as if some unseen force compels them to put as much distance as possible between them and it.

It stays this way for year and years and years, and then one day it doesn’t.

Samuel Wright is the catalyst for all the events that follow. He is the one who stays. Later on he’ll say that it was difficult to tell the difference between the paranoia of coming down from drugs and the unsettling feeling that something was always lingering just beyond his field of vision. He’ll say his biggest mistake was pulling off the road and staying for the night.

There doesn’t seem to be any other cars in the motel’s parking lot when he pulls in. The sound of the car door slamming shut echoes strangely around him. Sam peers into the office to find it empty, too. He’s starting to wonder if maybe this place has been very recently abandoned when a voice rings out from somewhere behind him.

“H-Hi there. Hi. Can I help you?”

She looks startled to see somebody here, but he doesn’t take much note of it. He looks her up and down from behind his sunglasses. The chick looks like she just got finished running a marathon in the forest. Weird.  “Uh. Yeah. You work here? I need a room.”

She continues to stare at him slack-jawed. It’s really not that big of a deal that someone’s here for a room, is it? The dishevelled woman finally clears her throat and nods her head.

“Sure. Yeah. Lemme grab you a key.”

Sam follows her inside the motel’s blessed air-conditioned office, finally pushing his cheap sunglasses up onto his forehead, brushing the hair away from his face in the process. He looks exhausted, red-rimmed eyes, cheekbones that cut too sharp, a weariness hanging off his bones like a second skin. He leans against the counter as he fishes his wallet out from his back pocket and asks, “How much for a night?”

“Seventy bucks. Here. Fill this out for me and then I’ll grab you your key.” She slides a clipboard with a relatively short form for him to fill out. Sam scribbles his information out in a relatively legible style before sliding it and the cash back over to her. When he straightens up, Sam finds her staring at him again, something churning behind her eyes.

“Is there something on my face or what?” He’s too fucking tired to be deal with strange people’s shit. He’s been on the road for something like ten hellish hours; all he wants to do is lock himself up in a room and pass out.

Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush pink with embarrassment. “Oh. Uh. No. Sorry.” She turns quickly and grabs a key from off a hook behind the desk. “Here. Room number six is all yours.” There’s a brief pause, a subtle shift of something in her eyes, and then with a smile a bit too wide, a bit too forced, and with a bit too much cheeriness, she says, “Enjoy your stay!”

It makes him flinch.

Sam stumbles out of the less-than-adequate room number six mid-afternoon, the same cheap sunglasses haphazardly on his face, and shoves his way into the office to get a coke from the vending machine. The coins clink in and the can hits the bottom with a heavy thud.

The girl from the other night is still behind the desk, the same overly-cheery smile fixed on her lips. She looks significantly more cleaned up than she did the night before. She says, “Enjoying your stay?”

He answers her with an uneasy look before leaving as abruptly as he arrived. There are still no other guests here but him, but he takes no more notice of that than the way the motel girl longingly watches him step off the property.

Sam heads down the road of this dreary town to the main square in search of a cheap diner. The sunlight is bright enough to have him squinting a bit even with his sunglasses on, the sound of cicadas humming in the air.

God, how the fuck did he get here?

It started with the drugs. He reaches into his pocket to reassure himself that the small baggie of pills is still there. And then he had to run away. It’s the cliche story of a junkie: guy gets into drugs, drugs get into him, yadda yadda yadda. The rest of it goes about the same way you’re probably thinking about right now. Guy’s life blows up in his face. He loses his girl, he loses his job, he loses his apartment. He almost loses his life.

So he leaves. He runs and runs some more, hoping to leave all his bullshit in the dust behind his wheels. This isn’t the first town he’s stopped in and it likely won’t be his last, but it seems like no matter how far he goes the guilt, the loathing, and the regret continue to wrap around him like an anaconda suffocating its prey.

He pops two of the pills from his pocket, washes it down with the coke, and then crushes up the can, chucking it into the front yard of an abandoned looking house. His past can’t keep running to catch up with him forever, can it? It’s got to get tired eventually. Right?

Right.

All thoughts of his past are forcefully shoved in the back of his mind. There’s no time to dwell on that bullshit right now when he’s hungry for something cheap and greasy to satiate his cravings.

The town itself - whatever it’s called; he can’t even remember the name of the place - feels hollow. The streets are lined with a few cars, mostly worn-down trucks, a smattering of open businesses lining the main strip. The rest are closed and boarded up; those that aren’t have windows that are smashed in, glass littering the sidewalk. Sam saw only three people from his ten minute walk from the motel to the diner and he can’t help but wonder if people actually live here or not.

The question is answered when he finds a diner - Twin Moons Diner - and pushes the door open.

A little bell, like something from out of a slice-of-life film, rings above the door as he pushes it open into diner. It looks like every person in town is here for brunch. They all turn to look at him and look they do. It’s unnerving enough that Sam remains standing in the doorway with one hand still on the edge of the door, wondering if he walked in on something he shouldn’t have. He makes eye contact with a guy that looks to be about his age and surprised to see a stranger here.

It’s a highway town. What do these people expect?

Sam and the strange guy become locked in a staring contest and then it happens: for a brief second the guy seems to flicker. It looks like something from an old VHS tape that’s seen too many plays in its years, like the TV stuck on static, and then it’s gone. Sam blinks, rubs at his eyes, and lets the door shut behind him with another tinkle from the bell.

The guy looks away sharply and stares down hard at his half-eaten breakfast. The guy sitting with him looks sympathetic, but doesn’t say anything.

Sam stares for another moment before something seems to shift, and the air in the restaurant loses its tension. Everyone turns back to their meals and their conversations, chatter filling the air, but the tension doesn’t leave Sam. He hesitantly slides into a booth by the wide windows and steals a glance at the Flickering Guy. It was just a trick of the light, right? He’s too tired, too strung out, too many things. All he needs is coffee, another pill (which he promptly, and not-so-surreptitiously, swallows back) and some greasy food.

Yeah. That’s all.   

A waitress is hovering above him before he can even blink and she’s already pouring steaming coffee into a bland ceramic mug. “Afternoon, darlin’, or is it still mornin’ for you?” Wavy, muddy-red hair pours down the waitress’ shoulders, some of it pulled back with a clip, one hand resting on her hip, the other holding the coffee pot. Her nametag reads Marisol, and underneath that is the word ‘manager.’ She smiles brightly with the edge of something sharp. Like the rest of this place it catches Sam off-guard and he stumbles over his words.

“Yeah. Something like that.” The ghost of a sardonic grin flashes across his features as he slides the mug of coffee closer, words a little slurred as the warm haze of the pills begins to wrap around him.

The waitress - Marisol, manager - drawls out a laugh, accented with something Sam can’t quite place. “Well, what can I get you, darlin’?” she asks.

“Surprise me. I don’t really give a shit.” he says, gesturing vaguely with his hand before taking a sip of the coffee. The high has him too lost in the beginnings of a comfortable daze to bother reading over the menu with much more than glazed eyes. “Just make sure it’s greasy.”

“Sure thing. The greasiest meal comin’ right up just for you.” She gives Sam a wink, and leaves him to his high and his coffee. Sam exhales, allowing his body to slump into the diner’s surprisingly comfortable booth.

Yesterday’s drive was long as fuck and equally as uncomfortable. There was no reason for him to have driven so long; he must have passed through a good six towns he could have stopped in for the night, but something compelled him to keep going until his eyes threatened to shut behind the wheel. As much as he carries a death wish around with him he doesn’t want to act on it in a grisly car crash on some highway that rarely anyone ever drives down, so into that shitty old motel he pulled into. He presses the palm-heels of his hand into his eyes, takes a deep breath, then runs a hand through his unkempt hair.

Snapping him out of his thoughts is the scent of something mouth-wateringly delicious being placed in front of him. Marisol smiles her polite little smile and places a hand on his shoulder. Something flickers in her expression similar to the chick at the motel earlier before saying, “Enjoy your meal!”

It makes him flinch.

As he forks a pile of hashbrowns into his mouth, he finds Flickering Guy staring his way again. Sam has never been afraid to meet someone’s gaze, but it doesn’t feel like he’s looking at that guy’s eyes so much as he’s looking at something else’s. A wave of uneasiness spreads from head-to-toe and he loses the battle he’d normally win, turning his attention to his food.

The food’s okay, but just as greasy and bad for him as he wanted it to be. The sounds of the diner fade into the background as he tunes everything out, including the stare,  and doodles on a piece of napkin as he eats. It’s been nearly a month since he left Tucson, and even though there’s hundreds of miles between him and that shit city he feels like he hasn’t gone far enough. Is there really any running away from the shitshow he let his life devolve into? He can still hear the nurse’s voice echoing in his head after he woke up from the overdose: You need to see somebody or you’re going to die.

At the time he brushed off the comment with an arrogant roll of his eyes and some slurred words, but when his head cleared and he was left alone to discharge himself from the hospital it hit him like a ton of bricks. You’re doing to die. Sure, that might not be such a bad thing, he thought, but standing in the rubble of his life in the aftermath suddenly made it terrifying.

Sam breaks through the napkin he was doodling on from pressing down too hard, tearing the thin paper in a jagged line. The once intact, scribbled in dark heavy lines, eye stares back at him from the torn napkin. He stares back at it, the diner around him seeming to fade for good until it’s just him and this booth until someone puts a hand on his shoulder.

He nearly jumps, reaching up to smack away the offending hand, eyes darting to the figure standing above him.

“Y’should leave,” the Flickering Guy says. His features are drawn tight, dark circles rimming his eyes. He’s tall, but he’s hunched forward as if he’s trying to make himself smaller. There’s a borderline crazed look in his expression.

“Uh, what?”

“You should leave,” he repeats, enunciating each word carefully, as the static retakes his form in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. Sam doesn’t miss it. “This whole town. Leave now. You shouldn’t be here.”

The stranger the Flicking Guy was eating with puts a gentle hand on his shoulder and pulls him a little bit away from the booth. “Sorry,” he says, a pitying expression on his face - not directed at Sam, but at his friend. “Ignore him. Enjoy your meal.” Sam’s brows furrow.

The friend, though he comes off as more of some kind of caretaker,  tries to pull Flickering Guy away from the table all together, but his feet are planted too firmly to move him. He raises a hand slowly, pointing at the doodle on the torn napkin. “That’s why y’should leave.” Sam stares down between the doodle and the two crazy guys invading his personal space.

He almost laughs, but a shiver runs up his spine instead and he says, “You guys mind fucking off and taking your weird shit somewhere else? I’m trying to fucking eat.” Flickering Guy - and he does flicker again and Sam does attribute it to the drug bender he’s been on - finally unglues his feet from the checkered floor and stumbles off outside with his caretaker-buddy in tow. He watches them have some kind of half-hearted argument outside before getting into the only car in the parking lot. There’s no real point in driving a car in a town where you can walk everywhere, and that makes the sleek Mercedes-Benz stand out like a sore thumb - especially when the town seems to be crumbling down around everyone.

Marisol returns to refill his mug to the brim with fresh coffee. “Anythin’ else I can get for you?”

“Nah, but... those guys who just left. Who are they?”

She pauses, watching the car make a left out the parking lot before saying, “The taller one is Charlie, the mayor’s son. The other one is his friend, Adam. He works for the mayor. Joined at the hip those two are. You rarely see one without the other.”

They’re long gone, but Sam looks over at the table they were seated at.

“They’re good boys, but mostly keep to themselves these days--” Marisol cuts herself off, looking like she’s revealed a little too much about them. “Anyway, sweetheart. If you need anythin’ else give me a holler.” She’s off to another table before Sam can even say anything else.

Small towns are always so fucking weird.

Letting the strangeness go, he slaps some cash down on the table and makes the short walk back to the diner, leaving the coffee unfinished and the doodled-on napkin behind. It’s midday, but he could probably get a decent amount of driving done today. To where? He has no fucking clue, but he’s never have an end goal in mind. His only plan was to drive until he found a place he felt good about and God knows he feels the opposite of good about this place.

He didn’t bother taking all his belongings out from his car the night before so sweeping through the motel room is a quick event. All that’s left is dropping off the key at the front desk.

The girl is still there, no longer cheerily smiling. “So, like, do you ever get off work?” he asks, dropping the room key on the counter. Her smile is as hollow as the town.

“I live on the property,” she explains. “I own the place, so no. I don’t really. Getting back on the road?”

“Yeah. No rest for the wicked.” Sam laughs, and the girl’s expression brightens up a little bit.

“Well, thanks for staying. Enjoy yourself out there.”

Sam pulls out of the motel, his life haphazardly packed into the backseat of the car, and makes a left down the road. He passes the abandoned looking house he saw earlier, he passes the diner, he passes a lot of closed businesses. As he reaches the outskirts of town he sees a sign for some sort of environmental research facility, and then it and the town is gone.

Tension he hadn’t realized he was holding in his shoulders releases as the town disappears in his rearview mirror.

Now that’s a place he hopes he never has to see again.

But someone out there loves to play cosmic jokes on the unfortunate.

He drives for an hour. Another town sign comes into view and before long he can read what’s written on it:

Welcome to Desolation Sound!

Something makes his stomach lurch and when he drives past the dilapidated sign he feels like he’s about to throw up.

It’s the motel he left but an hour ago, standing wearily off to the left like it’s about to crumble to its foundation. Sam slams on the brakes, the car skidding to a halt and leaving a trail of tire marks on the highway behind it. He blinks, rubs his eyes, then looks again. This time his eyes focus on a figure standing in the parking lot smoking. It’s the motel girl and she’s waving at him with a sad smile on her face.

With his head spinning, he pulls back into the parking lot he left in the opposite fucking direction and gets out of the car on wobbly feat.  He doesn’t understand. This doesn’t make sense. He drove down a straight desert road. He didn’t take a single turn, so how did he end up back here?

“What the fuck--”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Motel Girl says. She flicks the joint to the ground and crushes it out underneath her boot as she looks up at the sky. “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.”

“What? Hoping what wouldn’t happen? How did I… I drove straight. I left this place.”

“Stop trying to rationalize it,” she says wearily. Motel Girl tosses the key to the room he stayed at the night before to him. “You’ll need somewhere to stay so here. It’s on the house. Not like this shit place is making money anyway.”

Sam catches the key, then promptly throws up on the concrete, his head spinning with the absurdity of it all.

“Come on, Sam.” She gently reaches out to grab his arm and guide him towards the motel office. “Let’s get some liquor in you and I’ll explain it all. It’ll be fine.”

It’ll be fine. Those words will only come to haunt him.

[overwatchworks]

Mcgenji Week: Sun

The dream ended.

Jesse had eventually started avoiding Genji when the ninja became too volatile, snapping at him and sometimes even pulling weapons whenever he tried to talk with him. 

The Genji he knew had left that day in Japan, and he had not come back. 

Jesse was still trying to wrap his head around what had happened to drive him so far away. The ninja had gone back to his own room, stopped going to the normal commons room they had shared, and the only time Jesse ever saw him anymore was at mandatory training. 

It hurt more than Jesse liked to admit, mostly because he couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong. He didn’t know what had happened to make Genji flip out like that, but he did know that whatever they had between them was gone now. Genji had cut them off that day, and it had just taken Jesse a little longer to figure it out. 

Things had been bad for him lately, especially in the area of his mental health, but he didn’t blame Genji for it. They had problems, and Jesse was not naive enough to believe that the relationship they had could have lasted with how broken they were, how hesitant everything had been. Things had been getting good, better at least, and Jesse had been hopeful. But if it wasn’t going to happen, it wasn’t going to happen. 

He had loved Genji though, as dangerous as that was, and he wouldn’t deny that he still did. 

Now he was paying the price for letting himself become vulnerable and opening his heart to someone, but he didn’t regret any of it, oddly enough. He just hoped he had helped Genji in some way, eased his pain and suffering just a bit, while they had one another. Jesse’s depression had kicked back in on overdrive in the first two weeks, and he had been absolutely miserable, desperate to see Genji, maybe talk to him, straighten things out a bit. The ninja had adamantly avoided him though, so Jesse figured he had his reasons and he had waited to let Genji come to him. 

He never did though. 

Jesse had been torn up about it until he realized that this was bigger than him, it always had been, and he had done everything he could to help. It was hard, but he started to let go, began to focus on other things than himself and what he missed without Genji around. 

And that’s when he began to see the cracks in the big picture, the little signs that sent warnings through the back of his mind, the minute differences in Blackwatch and Overwatch alike. He began to see the facade crumble, the boiling unrest below the curtain of peace they had pulled over the world, the dream they had built dissipating because it was just that, a dream. 

Jesse could practically sense the tense lines of fission straining with each mission they went on, was starting to doubt the integrity of their jobs, had seen the changes in commander Reyes with each passing day. Something big was about to happen, and he decided to get the hell out of dodge before everything snapped. 

Jesse had packed his bags a week ago, had made all his arrangements already, and now all he had to do was say his goodbyes. They wouldn’t be anything special or obvious, but he wasn’t about to just leave without at least showing some gratitude to the people that had saved him, helped him become the man he was now. Jesse had hugged Ana and thanked her for everything she’d taught him, and she had merely smiled and had a sad look in her eye, the cowboy knowing she could see right through him. 

Then he had practiced shooting with Fareeha one last time, his chest aching a bit when she had grinned up at him and said “See you tomorrow Jesse!” with a wave. Angela was the next person he had talked to for all the times she had brought his sorry ass from the brink of death, and she had been more annoyed by his constant chatter than anything, but that was normal. Jesse had been assaulted in a greeting hug by Lena before he had the chance to do it himself, but she had zipped off before he could say anything, saying she had to check with Winston for her chronal accelerator. 

Reyes was the next person he had gone to see, but his office was empty, just like it normally was of late. Something was wrong with him, but Jesse couldn’t tell what, didn’t really want to stick around to find out either. He set a note hidden somewhere Reyes would eventually find it in the commander’s desk instead, reading simply: 

“Thanks for everything boss. But things are changing, and we all know it. Keep an eye out for when it does.”

The final person Jesse wanted to see, of course, was nowhere to be found, so he had gone back to his room to grab his things and leave. It was the dead of night, Jesse keeping his hat pulled low as he slipped out of the base, leaving everything but two pairs of clothes in a small bag, a thick wad of cash to help get him going, a pack of cigarettes, extra flashbangs on his belt, and his spare gun with enough ammo to last him a good while. He couldn’t risk bringing anymore than that, wanting to travel light and not have the chance of being tracked down by Blackwatch, so he went spartan on it all. 

The gunslinger had just walked out onto the landing when he saw a figure leaning against the wall, red eyes looking over the balcony, narrowed and glowing in the darkness.

“So you’re just going to leave.” Genji murmured, and Jesse sighed, shoulders sagging a bit as he turned to face the ninja.

“Yeah. I am.” He replied simply, voice tense and guarded, Genji still not looking at him but instead out towards the mountains.

“Why.”

“I’ve noticed that things are changin’ ‘round here Genji, I know you can tell too. I’ve been in enough shitty situations ta know when it’s a good time ta call it quits. Somethin’s gonna happen here, somethin’ big, an’ I ain’t gonna stay ta see the shit hit the fan. I’d advise ya ta do the same.”

There was an uncomfortable silence while Jesse waited for Genji to say something back, the ninja finally turning his head to gaze at him with dark eyes.

“So you’re just going to run, are you McCree?“ Genji hissed, tone accusing and cold, and something inside Jesse snapped at that. He shoved Genji back against the wall, his forearm pressed to the ninja’s chest and under his chin, leaning in close with a snarl.

“If it damn well keeps me fuckin’ alive, then yeah. An’ I won’t have you judgin’ me for it.”

They held each other’s gazes for a moment, Jesse’s burning one meeting the steel of Genji’s in equal measure before the ninja’s eyes shifted to the side.

“You selfish bastard...” Genji growled, and Jesse shoved him back with a soft scoff, taking a step away from him and readjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s real nice comin’ from you of all people. I’ll see ya on the other side, Shimada.” Jesse grit out, making his way off the landing and to the trail below that led into the city a few miles away. 

Genji had stayed silent as he left, and Jesse hadn’t looked back.

--

Jesse had been on the run for a little over six months before he had heard anything about Overwatch again. They had popped up on the news every now and then, sometimes with reports of heroism, other times with anxious discussion of whether it needed to be shut down or not. The world was getting antsy about it, but Jesse really didn’t have the time to pay attention to it, what with being followed by various assassins and bounty hunters due to the impressive amount of money he had on his head already. 

He had gone into a diner one day to get out of the sweltering heat of southern Oklahoma, the sun beating down on his back and just barely kept out of his eyes by the brim of his hat. Jesse had changed quite a bit since he had left Blackwatch, though he didn’t lose the cowboy persona, merely altered it with a red serape, a new pair of boots and a different, wider brimmed hat. His beard had grown out quite a bit, mostly due to his lack of care for it, being on the run so much not leaving him with much time for self maintenance and care, save for emergencies. He took off his hat and placed it on the counter, sliding into a seat and smiling at the waitress that came over to take his order.

“Coffee, no cream, an’ I’ll take a number five with the special, please.” He told her, and she jotted it down on her notepad before disappearing into the kitchen with an extra sway of her hips. 

Jesse glanced up at the TV that was showing the news, subtitles flitting across the screen slower than the images being shown. His eyes narrowed when he saw the Overwatch symbol flash up, and he was about to look away when Lena’s tired but smiling face showed up on the screen, her outfit now orange along with a bomber jacket and some goggles. Jesse had to wait for the subtitles to catch up, reading the headline with a little frown.

“Overwatch Agents Put an End to Doomfist’s Reign.” It read, Jesse recognizing the name with a bitter feeling. He read the interview with his old friend, his interest piqued.

Oxton: “Of course Overwatch was going to come in and put a stop to his destruction! That’s what we do, saving lives and keeping the peace is why we’re here. I know the world is seeing Overwatch in a different light now, but know that we are doing our best out here, and that we always put the world and the people first! It’s our job to keep you all safe, and we will do whatever we can to fulfill our duty!”

Jesse’s food was set in front of him as the camera panned to a view of the street in Numbani that they had taken the Doomfist guy out, and he took a sip of his coffee as he continued to watch.

Reporter: “As you all can see, there was massive structural and property damage done, the fight between Doomfist and the Overwatch agents causing the streets to be destroyed along with some cars and surrounding buildings. Though, we are told that the damage would have been much worse if the agents had not come to stop Doomfist’s rampage. Now to an interview with Overwatch agents Winston, Oxton, and Shimada.”

Jesse’s eyes froze on the last word, his coffee cup half way to his lips before he set it back down to completely focus on the screen. New images popped up, Lena and Winston talking with one another and to a reporter while another figure stayed back with crossed arms. 

Jesse immediately recognized the posture, but not the look of the man. He had silver and white armour covering his whole body, everything looking to be more cybernated, vents and nodes lit up with a neon green, his entire face covered now with a visor that also had a green stripe over the eyes at an angle. Jesse stared for another moment, then was shaken out of his daze by the voice of the waitress.

“So what do you think about Overwatch? What they did with Doomfist is good, but I’m not so sure about the rest.”

Jesse turned to face her, putting on a soft smile and shrugging lightly, now completely ignoring the TV.

“Can’t say I really have an opinion on ‘em ma’am. Ain’t never paid too much attention to ‘em, since they’re so far off an’ all. ‘Sides, politics ain’t ever been interestin’ ta me. Ya heard much ‘bout what the UN is doin’ ‘bout all the tensions now?” Jesse replied, taking a french fry and dipping it in ketchup before popping it into his mouth, subtly changing the subject while he was at it.

“Oh, yes, and a good job of it they’re doing. They know far better than I would what to do about the omnic’s situation. Guess that’s why they’re in charge and I’m workin’ at a diner, though I don’t much mind it.”

Jesse tuned out after that, a familiar blanket of fog draping over his mind and muddling his thoughts. He wondered how Genji was doing, wondered what had made him change his whole look, then supposed that was a good thing, though his attitude still seemed to be the same. 

Jesse didn’t allow himself to dwell on it long, however, pushing those thoughts and the memories aside. Blackwatch and everything that had been apart of his time there was over and done with, something he had put behind him and wanted it to stay there. The cowboy finished his food while chatting with the waitress, thanking her and giving an extra tip for unintentionally helping him forget about things for a time, before he replaced his hat and stepped back out into the summer heat and sun.

--

It was a year later that Jesse’s predictions had come true. The Swiss headquarters in Zürich had been blown up, supposedly by someone on the inside, and Jesse watched the full report in a haze, chewing absently on the end of his cigar.

“Reports are saying that there are at least two hundred dead, including both the commanders of Overwatch and the notorious, “Dark Overwatch”, Blackwatch, though it is hard to say how many more people are unaccounted for. This event has been a major push that the UN may use in order to shut the “peacekeeping” organization down for good. New restrictions and acts are supposedly in the process of being written, including the PETRAS Act, and they may be falling into place sooner than we know; they could declare any more Overwatch activity illegal and punishable by force of law. The world seems to be torn by this news, but the majority have spoken, and they say that this would not be a mistake on the UN’s part, saying people don’t need Overwatch’s “heroes” anymore as they are causing more harm than good. People are setting up even more protests against Overwatch activity, and it may not be long until their wishes are granted.”

Jesse stared blankly at the TV in his crappy little motel room, eyes roving over the video panning across the still smouldering remains of the Swiss base he had once called home. He then grabbed his lighter, holding the flame over the end of his cigar and taking a deep drag off of it with a humourless laugh.

“What did I tell y’all...” He muttered to the empty room, eyes closing as he leaned back against the headboard of the bed, brows furrowed low. Reyes and Morrison both were dead, so caught up in their jobs and their quarrels that they had gotten themselves blown up over it, and in the darker part of his mind, Jesse thought that maybe one of them had been that “person on the inside.” 

Reyes had sure changed enough, but Jesse wanted to doubt it, didn’t want to believe that the good man and loyal soldier he had fought with had something to do with this. His next thought had immediately gone to Genji; had he taken his advice and left beforehand? Was the ninja still alive, or was he one of the bodies found in the wreckage? As much as Jesse didn’t like to admit it, he still cared about Genji, too deeply for it to be friendly, but not enough to be called love anymore. He hoped the ninja was okay, but he didn’t put too much faith in it.

Jesse didn’t sleep that night, and he was gone before dawn broke the next day.

--

A year later, Jesse heard through the grapevine that Overwatch had been shut down for good. He had been expecting that, thought it was for the best.

--

Being on the run and gathering a hefty sixty million bounty over his head over the course of the past seven years since leaving Blackwatch left Jesse with more survival skills and time to think than he ever thought he would get in his lifetime. He had gotten even taller and broader from his travels, picking up more scars from close calls and showdowns with bounty hunters, becoming somewhat of a wanderer and definitely earning the title of “gunslinger.” His skin was given a constant dark tan from days spent walking under the sun from town to city to hideout, and he had even lost his left forearm up to the elbow on one of his misadventures that he didn’t like to recall. 

He was all grit and gun now, facing everything alone because he already had everything he needed to survive whatever life decided to throw at him. Jesse had started delving out his own justice against folks that still wanted to turn the world upside down, normally taking the blame for whatever damage had been done and thus wracking up yet more money for his bounty, creating an endless cycle that never failed to surprise or excite him. He lived as a man on the run, yet he wasn’t running from the danger, only the past that still haunted him, but he was embracing both as part of his life now. 

Jesse was a different man than the one that had left Blackwatch behind, and he didn’t regret what he did. It ended up saving him, and he only wished that he could have done more. So now he delved justice on his own terms, still liking the side of the angels and doing his best to stop the bad guys from doing any more harm in what ways he could. 

Jesse thought he had left Overwatch behind him, until he saw the message Winston sent for recall, the video somehow getting to him even after all he had done to cut his ties from the organization. When he first saw the message, he had turned the tablet off half way through and gone out to smoke a cigar, anger and unease bubbling just under the surface. 

Overwatch was supposed to be over and done with, there was a reason they had been shut down, and a damn good one. He hadn’t looked at it for another week, but it had been gnawing at him the whole time, so he eventually watched the whole message through. 

He spent another two weeks mulling it over, rewatching it but trying to stay as indifferent as he could. He weighed the pros and cons of going back to his old life, debated if it would truly be worth it to go back to an illegal organization that was desperate for recruits. 

The more he watched the message, the more Jesse got the urge to go back, to help his old friends and try to right the world again. He had watched the video for the hundredth time before he finally settled on a decision, for better or for worse.

“Ah, fuck it.” He muttered under his breath, tossing the tablet aside and rubbing his eyes.

Jesse started his long trip to Gibraltar the next day.

~~

[lost-your-memory]

So many angsty death prompts- my poor heart can hardly take it!!! Can you do an angsty Supercorp or Supercat fic that has a happy ending or at least a hopeful ending?!

Here you go anon, I started this like a month ago and I don’t have the inspiration to give it a better ending so … Oh, it’s Supercorp btw and don’t mind the lousy plot, like I said, inspiration isn’t really here lately …

The sound of the rain beating up the asphalt of the narrow street was soothing, soft and regular, a little melancholic.The world looked altered, with the dim light of the neon signs glowing distortingly under the deluge and trembling across the rippled surface of the puddles and flashy splashes of red, yellow and blue were catching the eyes of the aimless wanderer that strolled along the small avenue.From time to time, the disruptive sound of someone stepping in the pools of rain would break the quiet and monotonous noise of the rain but otherwise, not even the low chatter of people could drown it.Walking along with the disparate flow of people, a transparent umbrella loosely resting against her shoulder to protect her silhouette from the drenching rain, Lena was lost in her thoughts as much as she was carried away by the ambiance, by the quiet melancholy of this colorful but rainy street hidden away in the very heart of Tokyo.It had been two years since her failed attempt at being the CEO of a media company she knew nothing about in the first place. Not that she didn’t try, of course.After all, she had been trained her whole life to take over the Luthor empire and despite all the misogynistic reservations the board members had and the judgmental, hungry-for-blood eyes of the press was keeping on her, she did succeed.With CatCo however, she did not.She had made many mistakes and ruined a good number of relationships in the process, but at least she could still find some solace in the fact she did some good with L-Corp.The air smelled like warm ramens and fresh water, green grass and lotus flower and she smiled. It was a broken smile but a smile nonetheless.

A blue neon sign flashed a little further down the street and the gleam the rain gave the color made her think of a pair of equally sparkling blue eyes. She shook her head, trying to chase the image away but she should know better.Kara Danvers had always been persistent, whether it was the woman herself or the memory of her.She had fallen in love with those eyes, pure and kind and yet sometimes hooded with a darkness that had looked all too familiar to the last Luthor standing. She had tried to pinpoint the exact moment when she knew she was in love with the CatCo reporter, Cat’s former assistant and protege, but looking back in time, she couldn’t decide on one memory only.It was an ensemble of souvenirs, gentle touches and kind smiles, free discussions about silly topics and some more serious ones, a constant presence she didn’t know she needed before meeting Kara.Of course, she didn’t know about Kara’s other identity at the time. She was just happy to have a friend and maybe she had hoped for more but in retrospective, it would have never worked out.“A Luthor and a Super, working together”. Her own words still echoed in her mind from time to time, rimed with a bittersweet echo, the stinging pain of a half-truth that had somehow become a shameful joke.When Supergirl had killed Lex, at the end of what had been one of the most deadly fight in all the history of National City, Lena had recognized those hooded blue eyes.They were lined with much more darkness than what she was used to seeing, haunted with regrets and sadness and yet, they were firm and sure.When Supergirl had landed before her, carrying the lifeless body of her fallen brother in her arms, her world had crumbled and eventually, it all fell apart. She could see the lies as clearly as the blue of Kara’s eyes, bright and sharp and cutting at her already twisted soul.She didn’t crack back then, because after all, she was a Luthor and let it be said that the with the infamous name came an unhealthy ability of never letting any weakness sign shows. She was broken inside, the death of her brother not being as painful as the realization that the woman who she thought was her friend, on whom she had a hopeful crush on, was National City’s most beloved superhero.The lies were more painful than the fact Supergirl killed her brother, because in her mind, Kara Danvers killed Lex.The frontier between Kara and Supergirl was blurred by blood and her memories were beginning to suffer from the stain of it.After that, she had sold CatCo to the highest bidder, and she had boarded on the next commercial flight for Tokyo. Sam was taking care of L-Corp in National City and so Lena ran away, flew away even. She knew it was pointless to try to escape Supergirl, who could round the planet in a few minutes but still.She had started working for the Japanese L-Corp firm, in the R&D department and she liked it there. It was quiet and calm, no one cared about her name or her fortune and no one expected anything else from her than to be good at her job. Which, she was.Finally free from the enormous administrative procedure and the incredible pressure that came with the CEO title, she was happy to be tinkering all day long, the work being interesting enough to take her mind off her past.Then again, as much as she loved to work, she couldn’t possibly work around the clock and sometimes, she had to give in to sleep. It never worked, despite the pills, the booze, the many tips and medicine advises she sought.The nightmares were too vivid and the memories were all red and dark, with flashes of blue that made her angry.Which explained the wandering trip at 2am, in a forgotten street that never slept, amongst people who had no idea who she was, who didn’t care, and under a never ending rain.It was soothing, like the mother’s lullaby she was never good enough to deserve. She was exhausted, the tiredness weighing heavy upon her bones and slowing her down considerably.She had always been lonely, for as long as she could remember. She had never been much of a social butterfly and the only person to ever give a damn about her had been her brother.Well, and his killer, she thought with a bittersweet chuckles.She had found, during the first six months following the debacle, that she missed Lex. She was truly heartbroken over his death and her broken hopes to ever make him see reason ever again. She had wanted to believe, until the very last moment, that he could be brought back on the right path and if she was being honest with herself, she blamed Supergirl for not letting him, them, a chance to work it out.She was mad at Kara for a lot more reasons than just killing Lex but from time to time, a flash of lucidity would make her see that Supergirl had no choice. In those moments, she would remember the darkness swirling in the haunted blue eyes, the pain, the regret and the steel too.Kara had tried to call, leaving messages Lena never brought herself to listen to.In the end, Kara stopped calling and she tried to text instead, so Lena dropped her old phone in a drawer and brought a new one for work purposes only. However, since she was still tied to L-Corp in some ways, she couldn’t get rid of her professional email address and Kara, well. She was a smart girl, so she started to send emails on both the private and work inboxes and as much as Lena wanted to, she couldn’t bring herself to delete them all.She had a file in each of her inboxes, filled with unread emails from the girl who was once her friend.She was actually surprised that Supergirl didn’t show up in Tokyo after a few months of getting no answer but then again, she didn’t want to see the girl so it was all the better.She couldn’t avoid the big news splashed all over the big screens in the center of the capital or in the smaller TVs at work so she had seen some of Supergirl’s most famous fights and success but otherwise, she was doing her best to avoid anything related to the girl of steel and National City.That until yesterday, when her work phone had vibrated with a text from an unknown number. There were only three words to be read but Lena had been spiraling ever since. With grief and loss, mostly, old and familiar emotions for her but the infinite sadness was tainted with a side of despair this time, an anger sparkled by a general feeling of unfairness.“Jess died today”She had known about Jess’s condition of course, had known for years but somehow, the woman had always managed to look so healthy and so full of life that she had come to think of the risks as nonexistent.She didn’t want to go back, she didn’t want to have a single chance to cross paths with Kara Danvers but she knew there was no way to avoid it.She had to fly back to National City for the funerals, to take care of Jess’s family and to make sure her twelve years old boy was taken care of properly. She owed it to Jess, after everything they went through together.She was lost in her mind when a voice from her past whispered her name behind her.She recognized the soft voice, despite the new broken edge it held, the breathlessness around the end of her name that was unique and so infuriatingly hot. She didn’t have to turn around to know she would meet a pair of hooded blue eyes, sun-kissed curls framing a perfect face with a jawline made of steel and a nose of a royal kind.She wondered, for a second, if there would be glasses.“I know you don’t want to talk to me and you have every right to be mad at me but I am here to tell you that Jess isn’t actually dead,” Kara explained, her voice echoing through the sound of the rain and the low chatter of the people around them. It was clear and bright despite the pain and the regret, despite the lack of the usual hope that had once made her tone sound so bubbly and infuriating.Lena whirled around and stared in those ever so familiar ocean blue eyes, letting the memories swirl in her mind like a very well-known melody. The flash of a smile, the warmth of a hand on her forearms, the echo of a laugh and all the tenderness surrounding their more private moments.It was painful and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and ignore the alien superhero. Yet, she didn’t walk away.Maybe it was because Kara was, in fact, wearing glasses. Sure, they were smeared with raindrops but the eyes beneath were sparkling and gleaming, like the ocean itself.She hated herself for softening a little at the sight of Kara Danvers, in her plain civilian clothes, drenched with rain and looking a little miserable, her hair soaked wet and falling in heavy dripping waves upon her shoulders.The girl of steel was wearing a summer trench that did little to keep the rain at bay because from the dark color of it, the piece of clothing had already absorbed all the water that had fallen upon it and it was dripping on the street from the end of the sleeves and the rim of the coat. A pair of black converses was half-bathing in a pool of rain, surrounded by the soaked pant sleeves of Kara’s rather large blue jeans and the loose sweater looked as black as the night sky above their heads, heavy with rain as well.The words finally reached Lena’s mind and she narrowed her eyes at Kara, not trusting herself to use her voice just yet.“My sister got her into the WITSEC program because she helped us take a huge alien trafficker down and he’s been threatening her little boy. He has means and money so we thought it was best to make her disappear and to let the world believe she is dead,” Kara elaborated without being prompted and a wave of relief flooded over Lena’s mind as she took in what it meant.“I would have sent an email but you don’t open them and I wanted you to know, so I came in person,” Kara finished with a slight tilt of her head.The rain was running across her face, from the forehead to the chin, following the high valleys of her cheekbones and the small hollows along her nose, contouring her lips and then falling from her jawline onto the drenched street.She was still beautiful, Lena thought and she closed her eyes for a second, trying to reconcile the woman in front of her with her brother’s killer.“I should get going, I just … I just wanted to let you know the truth,” Kara whispered and she didn’t smile, which still looked a little odd since Lena was more used to the Sunny Danvers persona than the Supergirl one.“That’s rich, coming from you,” Lena answered with a snarky bite she didn’t know she was holding back until now. She hadn’t meant to start a fight but Kara’s word had hit a nerve and she was too tired to fight against her instinct, tonight.“I’m sorry?” Kara asked, obviously startled by Lena’s tone.“You heard me. It’s a little rich of you to tell me you came all the way to Tokyo to .. let me know the truth, like you said,” Lena retorted, anger boiling over as she took a step forwards to invade Kara’s personal space. “You’ve never let me in on the truth before now, have you?”Kara visibly flinched under the accusation, blinking in surprise and then looking up to meet Lena’s eyes.“Lena, I … I never meant to hide from you,” Kara started, taking a step back to reinstate the space in between them.“Liar.” Lena cut with a flowing flourish of her free hand and she then turned away, not in the mood for the discussion anymore.The rain was still falling, hitting her umbrella with a regular tud that didn’t sound so soothing anymore. The street was emptier, people having finally gone home for the night since it was closer to 4am now, and the rising day was still a few hours away.The neon had been, for the most part, turned off but a few remained on, glowing steadily in the rainy night.Lena felt strong, wet fingers close around the wrist of her free hand and she almost lost her balance when Kara pulled her back, forcing her to turn around and to grip the girl of steel’s arm to steady herself.“What are you …” Lena started but warm, soft lips found hers and the rest of her question died in a hungry, messy, desperate kiss that tasted like rain and tears.There was something surreal to the scene. The rain kept falling all around them, diverted by the umbrella Lena didn’t drop in the sudden move and the sound of it, soft but regular, strong, was the kind of memory making noise.The night was both silent and loud, with something like apprehension and relief floating in the air and the almost empty street was a movie-worth decorum for such a gesture, the neon glowing on the wet asphaltIt felt like a beginning and an end at once, it has the bitter sweetness of past mistakes and the hopefulness of a bright future and the incertitude was almost mysterious and tempting. Kara was warm and soft despite the steel of her muscle and the cold water running down her face, drenching her clothes and Lena could feel her own body give away. She had this ephemeral image of ice melting under the sun as she finally, finally returned the kiss.The umbrella fell on the street and she moved her now free hand to tangle it in Kara’s hair.It wasn’t silky, it wasn’t soft and she squeezed more water out of the not so golden locks anymore but it was a grip anyway, something real, something tangible and when the girl of steel circled her waist and burrowed her fingertips in the back of her black coat, when she felt the strength of the embrace, she felt invincible.It lasted a small eternity but like everything else in life, the end came all too soon.Kara pulled away and tilted her head, eyes darkening and Lena recognized the look. She longed for the time when she didn’t know what it meant, when she could just chalk it up to Kara’s adorable weirdness but now, all she could see was Supergirl.“I …” Kara started and that one word echoed in between them like a death sentence, heavy and final despite it being the very beginning of a sentence. They were still holding on to each other and Lena hated how safe and warm she was feeling.She was in love with Kara Danvers but she hated Supergirl with all the fiery anger of a Luthor and the lines were beginning to blur, twisted by loneliness and regret, by guilt and sadness, by this helpless feeling of irremediable fatality.“You have to go,” Lena whispered and she took a step back, leaving the warm embrace of Kara’s arms. It felt like ripping a part of herself apart but she did it anyway and she leaned over to pick up her umbrella.“Will you let me come back?” Kara asked and Lena looked up, surprised by the question.Kara’s eyes were so ever blue, glowing in the street light, sparkling under the rain and Lena hated how beautiful the girl looked. Somewhere underneath the wet clothes, a suit was ready to be exposed to the world and that too, Lena hated it.“Maybe,” Lena answered softly and it must have leaked in her tone that it was all she could give because Kara offered a soft smile.“I can do with a maybe,” she said and she took a step forward. Lena didn’t move away and the kiss was simple and delicate, like the soft move of a butterfly’s wings but it was hopeful and sure.Lena closed her eyes and revealed in the gesture, letting Kara’s soft lips soothe away her tormented feelings for a few seconds. For a time here, she finally felt at peace with herself, her mind quieted by the kiss, her heart soaring with love and her doubts and fears and raging emotions staying quiet for once.When she opened her eyes again, Kara was gone.

[justsomebucky]

The Friendly Wager (Part 6)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,608 (went really overboard)

Warnings: language, lots of bad language, fluff, sarcasm, drinking, implied drunkenness, angst, regret, hangover, confrontation, stupid feelings are stupid yeah?

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?”

Second to last part! Tags are closed. I loved all your messages so much!

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

The next morning, you awoke with a ridiculous pounding headache. Your mouth tasted funny and dry, and you knew you were still in your outfit from the night before. That also meant that last night’s makeup was probably smeared across your face and pillow.

Thank goodness it was Saturday. At least that would give you time to get over the hangover from hell. You groaned at the memory of what caused you to get so inebriated in the first place.

You win.

After seeing Bucky’s text, you didn’t reply to him. Instead, you conned Peter into taking you for some drinks.

His bar of choice? Red Room, another exclusive spot downtown.

Expensive alcohol (paid for by Peter) flowed for the rest of the night, as did Peter’s mundane chatter. The only reprieve you had was when you passed out in the taxi home.

You sat up gingerly, squinting at the clock on your bedside table as you wiped some drool off the corner of your mouth. Your phone was halfway across the room on the floor, as if you’d thrown it in a fit of rage.

Wait a minute…

Yeah, you definitely had thrown it in a fit of rage from the looks of it. Or, a fit of some emotion…the details were sort of cloudy at the moment.

You stepped out of bed, moving slowly over to the discarded device, but as soon as you picked it up (and it wasn’t broken, thank you OtterBox!) you saw the battery must have died.

The charger was back over near your bed, so you plugged it in and waited for the screen to light up.

When it finally came back to life, you cringed again. The number of missed calls and unread texts was higher than you’d ever seen in your life. Fourteen missed calls, all from last night. You clicked those first.

Three calls were from Peter (that made you chuckle, since you probably wandered away from him for some peace and quiet).

Eight were from Wanda. Why the hell had Wanda tried to call you that many times?

One missed call from…Natasha?

Oh god!

Your eyes widened as you remembered something else from last night. Natasha had been there with a couple of her friends.

You’d drunkenly gone up to her and offered her Bucky’s number in person, telling her nearly every sinful thing he’d ever said about her and how much he wanted to date her. Why had she called though? Maybe to make sure you had her number?

You smacked your forehead at the hazy memory, wincing as it added on to your hangover headache pain.

What the hell was the matter with you?

With another low groan, you looked at the last two missed calls of the night.

Both were from Bucky.

Oh geez. He probably called to confirm that he slept with Rosie, or to thank you for giving Natasha his number. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck…

You moved on to the dozens of unread text messages.

Most of them were from Peter, asking where you were, asking if you were ready to go home. The last couple from him were interesting.

Bucky texted me to say if I didn’t get you home soon he was gonna kick my ass.

Can you please meet me near the door so we can head out? I have a cab waiting.

There were texts from Natasha that you found just a little disturbing.

Thank you again! Sorry I missed your call. I tried to call back but no answer!

I’m going to ask him out tomorrow! Can’t wait! - Nat

Wanda seemed to have gotten the bulk of the text messages, replying to what started as you complaining about your date, to you sending her strings of gibberish with a lot of sad emojis.

I can’t understand what you’re writing, Y/N. I think you should get home.

Should I text Bucky to come get you?

Do you need me and Vis to come pick you up?

Finally, the last few were from the man himself.

Y/N, please get in the cab with Peter.

You’re not making any sense.

I’m getting worried. Just come home!

Ugh, you really mucked things up this time, didn’t you? A quick scan of your messages told you by the time you started texting Bucky, you were too far gone to type properly. At least you didn’t confess anything, like how you’d kept Nat from him for that long.

How humiliating…

You never ever drank this much, knowing that it always led you to make poor decisions.

At least Peter Quill wasn’t in your bed. That was a plus-one for your night, for sure. Thankfully, you were always good about going to bed alone. Stranger danger (or in this case nearly-a-stranger danger) was a real thing, and you weren’t having it.

With another groan, you found Wanda’s name in your contact list and pressed call, putting her on speaker.

After a few rings, she finally picked up. “Y/N? You’re alive then?”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, eyes filling with tears involuntarily. “I’m so sorry, Wan. I made a fool of myself last night.”

“You were just hurting, friend. It’s fine. You didn’t really like Peter anyway, from what you were saying when you could still type properly.”

“I know, but it’s not even just that. I’ll probably have to apologize to him later, but Wanda, I saw Natasha when I was out last night.”

“Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. “What did you say to her? Please don’t tell me you said anything about Bucky!“

“I told her Bucky lusted after her, then gave her his number,” you admitted, closing your eyes to try to stave off the stinging tears. “She texted me last night and said she was going to ask him out today.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Huh?

“Don’t be. He’s wanted her for a while now, I just didn’t have the guts to lose my best friend to her.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

“Are you still there, Wan?”

“I’m still here, but I’m wondering why you’re a total moron.”

You opened your eyes, glaring at the nearest object, which just so happened to be your lamp. “Excuse me?”

“All you did last night, Y/N, was text about Bucky. Did he sleep with Rosie? Do you think he slept with Rosie? Do you think he’s in love with Rosie? What about Natasha? Did he still want Nat? Doesn’t he care about me at all?”

The only thing you could do was groan again, feeling utterly stupid.

“Don’t you see, you absolute moron? You’re in love with Bucky. I had my suspicions all along, but now this kind of solidifies it, don’t you think? That’s why you didn’t want to give Nat his number, and that’s why you don’t want to lose him.”

“Have you picked up the drinking where I left off, Wan? You’re so far off from the truth, it’s not even funny.”

“Am I? Then explain these texts: Wanda he doesn’t care about me. Bucky hates me. He’ll forget all about me. I can’t lose him, Wan! Not one message said anything like that about Peter. Not one, Y/N. You really love Bucky, and you’re scared because you finally realized it.”

That was like a kick in the gut. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? I think you need to take some time and think about what…or who…you really want, Y/N. Before it’s too late, preferably.”

“Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?” you whispered into the phone, feeling like your heart was cracking. “I need someone to be with me today. I know if I’m alone, I’ll sit and mope all day.”

“I won’t let you be alone,” she promised.

---

We’re going out tonight! Just wanted to say thank you again! –Nat

You stared at the screen, wondering if your brain was still so muddled from your hangover that you were no longer capable of reading correctly. Surely, this newly received text didn’t say that they were already going on a date, one day after the whole debacle of the wager went down?

Boy, he didn’t waste any time, did he?

There was still no word from your supposed best friend after last night. There was no way you were gonna text him first, not after remembering what went down, and everything you may have said.

He was probably a little bit mad about the Natasha thing, but couldn’t he get over it? He told practically everyone how he felt about her. Steve and Sam knew…even Vis and Wanda knew!

He was finally seeing her tonight, and all would be well with them. Why did he have to hold it against you? What a baby.

Anyways.

You got out of bed, and the first thing you did with what little energy you could muster was grab a blanket and move to lay on the couch.

Wanda promised she wouldn’t let you spend the day alone thinking about your humiliation, but she still hadn’t arrived yet. You hoped against hope she was stopping for coffee and bagels or something. You could really use some strong caffeine right about now.

You pulled the blanket over you with a sigh, and flipped through the channels until you came across a movie that looked familiar. ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ Just what you didn’t need to see.

“Oh, screw you. Guys and girls can be just friends,” you yelled at the TV, throwing your tissue box at the screen. You clicked through some more channels.

It was like the world was laughing at you.

My Best Friend’s Wedding was on, too.

Another farce.

The best friend is about to marry this beautiful woman that you can’t help but like, while Julia Roberts tries desperately to sabotage the wedding because she realizes (or maybe just thinks) she’s in love with him. That was so stupid. Who lets it get that far? If she loved the guy, she should probably just go ahead and tell him.

When Bucky and Natasha eventually got married, you weren’t going to run up and make out with him to try to stop him. You wanted him to be happy, even if-

Your eyes widened, no longer seeing the movie on the screen, but picturing Bucky standing at the altar with Natasha, looking happier than ever.

You’d been about to say ‘even if it wasn’t with you.’

What.

The actual.

Fuck?????

Your hands got all clammy again as you thought it through. What the hell kind of thought was that? You pushed the blanket off your legs and stood up, pacing back and forth anxiously.

Was Wanda right?

Were Harry and that stupid Sally right, too?

Were you…in love…with Bucky?

Your heart started racing as you heard a knock on the door. When you swung it open, Wanda stood there, coffee and bagels in hand as you’d hoped for.

“Y/N, it’s been so long,” she answered dryly. “I promised I would be here, so here I am.”

“Wanda, get in here!”

You shoved your friend inside the apartment while she tried to balance the coffee without spilling.

“What the hell, Y/N? Careful!”

The door slammed shut behind you, and you turned to her with anxious eyes.

“Am I really in love with Bucky?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your voice down just in case he was across the hall.

Not that someone could hear you when they weren’t home, but in bed with another woman…ugh…

“Wanda?” you repeated, feeling like you might be sick. “Am I?”

“What?” She laughed, moving inside and heading for the kitchen counter. “Why are you asking me? I already told you how I felt about it, how I think you feel. Shouldn’t you be asking yourself if you’re in love with Bucky or not?”

“I don’t know! I’m so confused right now, and I just don’t know,” you rambled, following behind her, your hands wringing together. “He’s my best friend. People can be just friends, Wanda!”

“Calm down, Y/N. Let’s think this through, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching for a coffee and taking a sip. “Okay, yes, coffee is good, thinking is good. Thinking is my best skill.”

“Over-thinking, maybe.”

“That’s not helping!”

“All right, all right!” Wanda held her hands up in surrender. “When you picture yourself with someone, settling down with them forever, who is it? Who do you see beside you?”

“I can’t ever picture it,” you admitted, setting the drink down. “I’m not that kind of person. I mean, I try, but I just…fairy tales are for children, you know?”

Wanda leaned against the counter, nodding. “Okay, we’ll come back to that. When you picture Bucky settling down with someone forever, who is it?”

You frowned at your friend. “Honestly, my first thought is Natasha.”

Her eyes widened a little. “And how does that make you feel?”

“You sound like a TV therapist right now.”

“Do you want my help or not?” she huffed, rolling her eyes and sipping from her own coffee.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Okay, how does it make me feel…?” You closed your eyes, trying to picture Bucky and Natasha at the altar again. “It makes me feel a little bit crazy.”

“You’ll need to be a little more precise than that. Explain.”

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to try to calm your overactive, extremely loud heartbeat. You met her gaze again, and you knew you could be honest with her. “Well, for one, it makes me want to kick Natasha in the shin.”

Wanda laughed. “And what about Bucky?”

Shit. You knew what you were picturing. “I want to grab his face, and plead with him not to leave me.”

She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that all you want to do?”

You closed your eyes again, trying to imagine it. There was definitely more to the story, parts you would never let yourself picture before.

“No,” you admitted weakly. “That’s not all.”

“Could you picture yourself up on that altar beside him instead of Nat?”

There was no hesitation this time.

“Yes.” Your response was a mere whisper, but you couldn’t have managed a louder voice if you tried.

“I think you have your answer then, don’t you? I mean, you did try to keep Natasha away from him so you could keep him a little longer. Plus, I think, and this is just me observing from afar here, but…I think you purposefully sought out douchebags to date so you didn’t have to commit to anyone else.”

“I…really? You think?” Your brows scrunched in disbelief. “I thought I just had a type?”

“Yeah, you have a type all right. Tall, dark, blue eyes, and lives across the hall from you.”

“But he’s going out with Natasha tonight,” you groaned, moving back over to the door to peer out of the peephole.  There were still no signs of anyone across the hall. “He probably isn’t even back from Rosie’s, since he slept with her and all.”

“You don’t know that he slept with her.”

You made a face at her over your shoulder. “I do too! He told me I won! That means he didn’t make it through the whole date without putting the moves on Rosie.”

“Well, I’m not convinced. He could have forfeited the whole thing. And if he did sleep with Rosie, does that change how you feel?”

“No.”

Boy, she was just getting you to admit everything. If she kept this up she’d probably squeeze your bank card information out, too. You were just too willing to spill right now. Stupid emotions!

You chewed your lower lip, a new thought coming to your mind. “How do I know I’m not manufacturing these feelings because I’m about to lose him?”

“Do you feel like these feelings are out of the blue? I mean, really admitting to yourself, Y/N. Are they new?”

She had you there. Your heart told you the answer, and you shook your head no.

“So try to find him before his date tonight then! What are you doing talking to me when you could be out landing your Mr. Right for once in your freaking life?”

“Ahhhh!” you yelled, hands flying up in the air. “I am so nervous!”

What would you even say? Hey, Bucky, good luck on your date tonight, but oh by the way, don’t go on it because I love you?

Feh!

You looked at Wanda with terror in your eyes, silently imploring for answers.

She offered you a bright, confident smile in return. “Don’t be nervous. If anyone on this planet knows just what to say to Bucky, it’s you.”

---

Alone again, you got properly dressed, did your hair and makeup (but not overdoing it, you didn’t want to seem too weird), and were now pacing in front of your door, waiting for signs of life across the hall.

Wanda had disappeared right after her last pep talk, making you promise to not only stay away from alcohol tonight, but to not let Bucky out of your sight without telling him how you feel.

She told you one way or another, your relationship with Bucky was going to change, so why not make it the way you want? She had a point.

Your feet were getting tired from standing up with no breaks, but you didn’t want to miss him. Not knowing where he was or what he was up to was super weird. He hadn’t texted you yet today, either. You didn’t really go this long without talking, so something was definitely up.

Just as you were about to give up and go rummage for food, you spotted him at his door, finally, carrying a few grocery bags. Before he could disappear inside, you opened your door and stepped out, avoiding eye contact.

You had to make it seem like a coincidence.

“Y/N, hey,” Bucky spoke up from his doorway. “How are you feeling today?”

“Oh, hey Bucky! Didn’t see you there,” you fibbed. Ugh, could you sound anymore rehearsed? “I’m fine, how are you?”

“Fine.” He set the bags down just inside the door and then walked over to you, his blue eyes unreadable. “Y/N -”

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night,” you offered, interrupting him. You needed to talk first, or you’d lose the courage to speak at all. “I didn’t mean to get that drunk, and…well…“

“Why did you, though?” Bucky asked, his eyes staring into yours intently. “That’s not like you, Y/N.”

“I don’t know,” you confessed with a shrug. “Just thought it would be a salve for my personality, I guess, to help me make it through the terrible date.”

He shook his head. “This stupid wager wasn’t worth it, Y/N. Not if you put yourself at risk like that. You know I’d cook for you anyways, right?”

Your heart did that fluttery thing again. Maybe you needed to have that looked at. Between that and your stomach issues, you were a total mess.

“It’s okay, Bucky. I guess…I guess it doesn’t really matter now. You’re a winner, too, right? By the way, Nat’s excited about your date tonight. She texted me about it and thanked me again.”

Bucky frowned a little. “You know about tonight?”

“Well, like I said, she’s been mentioning you for a while now, so…” You forced a smile to your face, knowing you were chickening out. “So, she thought she’d share the news…”

“Yeah, I just…she texted and I- I guess I didn’t see a reason not to go…” Bucky’s voice trailed off, glancing down at his feet before looking up at you again.  

Was he waiting for you to joke about it? You had always sort of mocked his thing for Natasha.

In the end, you didn’t have the heart to make things worse for him. If he needed you as a friend, and wanted Nat as a girlfriend, then that’s what would happen and you’d be supportive.

“I think you’ll have a great time.” You gave a firm nod, and your heart clenched a little. “Anyways, good luck tonight. See ya!”

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone a little lower. “Thanks. See you.”

In a quick retreat, you turned and headed down the stairs as fast as your legs would take you, needing to get away from Bucky, away from this entire situation.

You didn’t wanna see him bring her home later, and shut the door on your hopes for good.

---

Saturday afternoon came and went, and by evening, you still didn’t want to go home. After all, Bucky’s date with Natasha probably wasn’t over.

You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thought and mental picture.

Longing was the worst.

Or was it pining?

No, those meant the same thing, you were pretty sure.

Either way, you hated both words.

These awful feelings ended up making you forget how to be anything but a wishful thinker. They robbed you of your ability to make good decisions, leaving behind only misery in the shell of who you used to be.

For fuck’s sake, when did you become so melodramatic? There was no way you were going to sit around all night pining for Bucky.

Instead, you spent the bulk of your day in Brooklyn, visiting the botanical gardens, then walking aimlessly to people-watch for a while.

You killed some more time by walking across the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan, then sat in a Starbucks near the office for about an hour. When you were finally out of things to do to distract yourself on short notice, you decided the coast was probably clear to return home.

By now, his choice would have been made, and you’d be safe to sneak in your apartment unnoticed.

With your mind made up, you threw away your empty coffee cup and headed for the door. You’d barely taken a step outside when you almost ran smack into a familiar person.

An all-too-familiar person, one of the last people you would expect to see anywhere but Bucky’s apartment right now, to be exact.

“Natasha?”

“Hey,” she said, a smile forming on her pretty features. “Y/N! Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah, you too. I assumed you’d still be with Bucky?” It was still pretty early in the evening. Dates that go well usually…end well?

Nat raised an eyebrow at you, shifting her bag closer to her body. “Why would you assume that?”

“Well, you had your date tonight, didn’t you? It’s so early…I figured…”

“You figured that I would fall into bed with him on the first date? Well, that’s sort of offensive.” She gave you a smile to show she wasn’t serious.

That miserable, crushing guilt returned anyway. “I’m sorry, Nat, I didn’t mean it like that, really. I just…in all the romance stories, movies, whatever, once the protagonist finds their true love, they usually just…get right to it.”

“And what on earth makes you think I found my true love?” Nat shook her head. “You watch too much TV or something, Y/N. Bucky’s hot, sure, and he’s really sweet. We went to a little restaurant in Brooklyn around six-thirty, but I was out of there by seven. Didn’t even eat. Bucky didn’t stop looking at his phone the whole time, and honestly, if I had to hear one more story about something you and he did together, I was going to scream.”

“Wait, what?” You blinked in confusion, moving to the side when more people started trying to get past you and Natasha on the sidewalk.

“He was totally distracted. Didn’t seem interested in me at all. I thought you said he was into me?”

“He- he was, Natasha, I don’t understand, I -” You were stuttering now, stumbling over words, because you couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“I kind of get it now, why you were trying to withhold information from me. I sort of caught the drift a while ago.” She leaned closer, eyes searching yours. “When did you realize you were in love with him?”

“I- I don’t,” you sputtered, still unable to make a complete sentence. “I’m not.”

“Recently, then? Oh, Y/N,” Natasha shook her head at you almost sympathetically. “Go home. Go talk to him. I don’t think New York City can handle much more of you two if you don’t. I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you,” you mumbled, still trying to process what she said as she flounced away down the sidewalk.

How come everyone knew you loved him before you knew?

Did Bucky know?

Your face grew hot at the thought of Bucky knowing you were pining for him while he was off sleeping with Rosie.

The walk back to Brooklyn was making you more and more nervous with each step. Natasha had said he was distracted; what if he had a different date altogether, like Rosie, and didn’t want Natasha because you’d handed her to him?

Was it a pride or ego thing? Was he trying to prove a point? Maybe he wanted to teach you a lesson?

Maybe you didn’t understand Bucky as well as everyone thought, after all.

As you got to your apartment, trudged up the steps, and went to unlock your door, there was a loud a click behind you. Bucky’s door opened; you knew the sound by now.

You shifted your bag on your shoulder and turned to look.

Bucky was standing in his doorway, eyes wide. “Y/N. Hey…where have you been all day? I’ve been looking for you.”

“I, uh…I was playing tourist. My phone’s been off. I went to the botanical gardens, and then-”

“That sounds nice,” he interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked super uncomfortable and you couldn’t blame him.

You’d made a complete mess of your friendship in just a couple of days.

“Have you eaten dinner?”

“Nope.” Where was he going with this?

“C-can you…uh…Can you come over? I’m feeling pretty shitty and I don’t want to be alone.”

Ah. That sounded awfully familiar. Those were some of the same words you’d said to Wanda this morning, after realizing that Bucky was the cause of and solution to all your personal problems.

He was probably going to have The Talk with you, about how he was just not into you, and how wrong you’d been about Natasha, and then he’d drop the bomb and tell you all about his love for this mystery girl he’d been texting during his date.

It was probably Rosie.

Your stomach twisted in knots again. He had fallen for Rosie, hadn’t he?

He’d warned you - he’d suggested that maybe Rosie would be the one to make him change his ways.

What had you done?

“It’s been a rough day,” he added dejectedly, letting his hand fall to his side. “Saturdays are supposed to be better than this, right?”

Rough day? Was it realizing Nat wasn’t all he wanted? Or did something happen with Rosie?

The pain in your stomach got worse, and this time it was coupled with anxiety. That happened a lot around him anymore. “I don’t know, Bucky, I’m kind of tired, so I-“

“Please? Just for a bit. I really want to talk to my best friend.”

His pleading expression made all your protests disappear. Friends..that’s what you were, and that’s what you’d stay. As long as you didn’t lose him…

“Okay,” you agreed softly. “Just for a little bit.”

He nodded, then opened the door wider, silently inviting you inside.

You took a deep breath, then a few hesitant steps forward.

---

Part  7

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[keizfanfiction]

Picture Unperfect: Chapter seventeen

@purekagome @vividxdreaming @kuddle-cakes @grapefruitwannabe @inunanna

The five minute drive to Sango’s house – Inuyasha had commented that he was glad they all lived in the same vicinity – was filled with excited chatter, mostly from an extremely exuberate Sango who was simply ecstatic that Kagome was joining them, going on how their number was even now, with two girls and two boys, how fun it would be to torture said boys with their “feminine wiles” and oh my God, can Inuyasha drive any faster?!

Kagome had dissolved into helpless giggles at Inuyasha’s exasperated look as he continued to drive and the look he sent her plainly read “gee, thanks” and that only served to fuel her giggle fit. By that time Sango was laughing too, and Miroku couldn’t quite contain a few amused chuckles of his own. The half-demon of the group rolled his golden eyes but couldn’t stop the fond smile curling his lips as a soft “keh” escaped him.  His friends were weird, but…he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

 By the time he’d pulled into Sango’s large driveway, both girls were red-faced and down to soft snickers and hurriedly the maple-eyed girl climbed out and ushered Kagome to do the same, telling – more like demanding – Inuyasha to grab Kagome’s things before grabbing her hand and rushing inside, eager to introduce her new friend to her parents.  No doubt they’d be happy to know that their daughter had another girl to hang out with and not just two boys. That couldn’t be healthy…

 Since he was planning on to anyway, Inuyasha made no complaints as he snatched Kagome’s bag from the backseat before he and Miroku followed after the girls at a more leisurely pace, knowing Sango would probably want to introduce Kagome to her parents and show her around a bit. And as predicted, as they walked through the front door that Sango had left open in her haste, they could hear their friend’s parental units voices as they greeted Kagome and with shouted greetings of their own from the dining room, the boys continued on upstairs to what they dubbed The Hangout, the room the three of them spent every Friday in since they’ve been friends.

 Back downstairs, Kagome bowed deeply to Sango’s parents. “It’s very nice to meet you,” she said sincerely and straightened up to offer a shy smile.

 Sango’s mother, Midoriko Kuwashima (“But you can call me Midori, dear,”) returned the smile and her soft cinnamon eyes glowed brightly down at her. Sango’s new friend was adorable and she truly hoped she’d be seeing more of her.  Her husband, Masahiko, nodded and directed a warm smile of his own at the mocha eyed teenage girl, thinking that she seemed trustworthy and silently commended his daughter’s choice in friends.

 Beaming, glad that her parents approved of Kagome, Sango explained that they’d be upstairs in The Hangout and could they order a pizza for dinner? After receiving an affirmative, Sango gave a brief tour to the overwhelmed ebony-locked young woman of downstairs, showing where the second bathroom was just in case the one upstairs was occupied, the two girls headed upstairs and Sango described where her bedroom and the second floor bathroom was before leading the way into The Hangout where Inuyasha and Miroku had already fired up the Xbox and were currently sitting on front of the TV murdering the enemy on Black Ops. Kagome was only familiar with the game because Souta owned the same one and she might have spent an hour or two playing when nobody was home…several times.

 The second Kagome’s scent reached his nose, however, Inuyasha put down his controller – his character exploded in about a second – and walked over to the couch where she’d sat down, plopping next to her and stretching his arms across the back.  Sango took Inuyasha’s discarded controller and joined Miroku in shooting everything in sight – including Miroku’s character, turning it into a game of “who can find and kill who first.” It was amusing to watch, to say the least, especially since Sango was quite spectacularly beating – or more accurately slaying – Miroku’s ass.*

 Chuckling at her female friend’s taunts to the violet eyed boy, Kagome took a moment to look around the room they were in, impressed with what she found.  It was a fairly large room, about the size of a living room, with a refrigerator no doubt stocked with food and a microwave.  There were bean bag chairs and recliners scattered about, another couch similar to the one she and Inuyasha were sitting on and several futons stacked on top of each other against the wall. On either side of the large flat screen television were two large DVD wall racks fully supplied with hundreds of movies and games. Kagome decided it was her favorite room in the entire house.

 “Whaddaya think?” Inuyasha questioned beside her after catching her looking around.

 “It’s…pretty amazing,” she admitted softly with an awed look on her face with a hint of wistfulness shining in her beautiful brown eyes.

 Inuyasha couldn’t help but feel slightly proud of what she thought of their hangout, even though it was all Sango’s parent’s doing – they were fucking awesome. Still, he was glad that she approved and hoped that it would be a regular thing for her to join them here every Friday after school. Kagome belonged with him—with them and if her father eventually found out that she was with two boys every Friday after school, well, tough shit. He wasn’t about to be separated from her and if that meant getting in Kai Higurashi’s face and saying in no uncertain terms that Kagome will not be taken from him, then so be it. It might piss his babydoll off a little, but hopefully by then – if it ever does happen – she’d have the same feelings for him that he was already beginning to develop for her and she wouldn’t stop him.

 Satisfied with his strategy if shit hit the fan, Inuyasha sat back and watched his friends kill each other for another half an hour or so until Miroku apparently got fed up or bored with getting assassinated by the girl he was crushing on and tossed his controller down in defeat, to which Sango did a little victory dance while still seated on the floor.

 “It’s a stupid game anyway,” Miroku groused as he stood up and stretched his back.  “I could go for some pizza right about now,” he said and Sango whipped out her mobile to order a large sheet pizza with extra toppings.

 “Kagome, do you want any toppings in particular?” Sango asked, craning her neck all the way back so she was gazing at her friend upside down with the phone pressed to her ear.

 Said girl snickered at her friend’s position. “No, I’m good.” She paused, and then wrinkled her nose. “Just no anchovies.”

 Beside her, Inuyasha shuddered and vehemently agreed.

 “Extra sausage and banana peppers!” Miroku piped up from inside the fridge he was rummaging around for a drink and Sango rolled her eyes but conveyed the message to the person taking her order.

 “Yo, Miro, gimme a Dew!”

 “You have two legs and a heartbeat, what’s stopping you?”

 “My foot up your ass if you don’t give me my damn soda.”

 While Kagome smashed her hand against her mouth to stifle her giggles, Miroku rolled his eyes and obediently grabbed the green beverage for his friend. “How ‘bout you, Kagome? Want anything?” He lifted his head enough to peer over the top of the door so the only thing Kagome could see was his purple eyes and half of his nose.

 “Um, Diet Pepsi?” she asked hesitantly and Inuyasha smiled. She was so damn cute sometimes.

 “Comin’ right up,” Miroku announced and a minute later two cans of soda were sailing through the air toward the pair on the couch and before Kagome could draw a gasp since the object was flying toward her face, clawed hands shot out and expertly snatched them from the air and she relaxed.

 “Miroku, you idiot,” Inuyasha snapped, glaring at his friend as he popped open Kagome’s soda for her and handed it over.  If either one of those cans had hit his babydoll, his friend would be sporting a nicely sized lump on his dumb noggin.

 To his credit, the black-haired human winced and glanced at Kagome apologetically. “Sorry, Kagome. I…forgot.”

 Kagome took a sip of the cool beverage before smiling and waving it off. “It’s alright, Miroku. Inuyasha saved me so no harm done.” She turned her smile to the half-demon beside her and he resisted the urge to blush, scoffing softly as he raised his own drink to his lips.

 “Pizza will be here in about twenty minutes,” Sango announced as she stood up and tucked away her phone. “I’m going downstairs to get some paper plates, napkins and snacks. Inuyasha, Kagome, go ahead and pick a movie on Netflix or one on the racks.” She headed for the door.  “Miroku, come with me.”

 “But—”

 “Now.”

 He sighed and followed after her but secretly happy that she requested his presence. “Yes, dear.” He was smiling as he followed her out the door, leaving the two on the couch alone.

 Kagome narrowed her eyes as she took another gulp of her Diet. “I’ve been meaning to ask…” she started and her companion raised a brow. “…Are they dating?”

 Inuyasha snorted behind his Mountain Dew can and lowered it to answer her.  “You’d think they were, but formally they’re not.” He shrugged and tapped a claw against the aluminum of his beverage. “I mean, San’s ass is the one Miro grabs the most and a lot of the time she lets him off with a simple thwack to the head, and even then it’s not as hard as it used to be. Plus I’ve seen them making out before too so for all intents and purposes they are but haven’t really officialized anything.”

 “Um, Yash?”

 “What?”

 “…‘Officialized’ is a big word for you to use.”

 “Oi!”

 Kagome giggled and Inuyasha couldn’t even act annoyed. He chuckled along with her, shaking his head.  “Smartass.”

 “My ass thanks you for acknowledging its intellect.”

 Inuyasha groaned in an exaggerated manner as his cheeky babydoll cackled next to him.

 “Anyway,” the silver-locked hanyou said as he stood up. “We need to pick out a movie. C’mon, smarty pants.” Before Kagome could move, he bent down and snagged her around the waist, only to straighten up and throw her over his shoulder.

 Kagome squealed as her face flamed to suddenly find herself hanging over Inuyasha’s shoulder with quite the stupendous view of his backside presented before her. “In-Inuyasha! Put me down!” She smacked her hands against his back weakly and couldn’t help but realize how muscled it was.  

 “Nah.” With relative ease, he kept an arm snuggly around her middle to keep her anchored there as he strode across the room to switch the game off and use the controller to bring up the Netflix application.  “Lessee, horror movies…”

 Squirming around, his hostage tried to escape his grasp by pushing against his back and kicking her feet but to no avail.  None of it seemed to bother the half-demon and it just made her even more frustrated.  “Put me down, Inuyasha,” she hissed but without any real heat and she had to fight to keep the smile off of her face. She didn’t want to admit it aloud, but…she was having fun joking around with Inuyasha like this and it reminded her of their time in her room when they were play wrestling.

 “Or what?” Inuyasha teased as he scrolled through the horror movie selections, his lips kicking up into a grin.

 “Or…or I’ll…I’ll bite you!” she exclaimed and snapped her teeth together as if to emphasize her threat.

 “That so?”

 Before she realized what was happening, she was being dragged off his shoulder and suddenly she was in his arms bridal style. She blinked up at him and her face flushed.

 Inuyasha regarded her with smoldering amber eyes that had Kagome’s heart skipping a beat in her chest. He licked his lips and her breath caught in her throat. “Kagome Higurashi,” he whispered, his breath fanning over her lips and it was then that Kagome realized that his mouth was very close to her own. “Are you threatening me?”

 Swallowing thickly, the girl in his arms stared up at him with wide russet orbs as her hands came up to clutch at his tee shirt. “M-maybe,” she breathed and wondered just what the hell she was doing.

 A deep growl rumbled from within his chest and she felt it more than heard it, the vibration sending a shiver coursing down the length of her spine. His eyes flashed with something indecipherable as he leaned closer still, his nose brushing against hers.

 “You know,” he said huskily. “I don’t take kindly to being threatened.”

 “Oh, y-yeah?” Kagome whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from his.

 “Yeah.”

 Kagome’s eyes fluttered closed without her permission and involuntarily her head tipped back, her mouth parting under his warm breath. Another deep growl thundered in Inuyasha’s chest and unable to resist anymore, he closed the distance between them—

 The door slammed open.  “Pizza’s he—! Oh shit.”

*Didja see what I did there? XD

*gets bricked* 

Because after finally having realized that for some people it’s easier to read or they prefer it over tumblr, here is the link to Picture Unperfect on AO3.

Chapter sixteen || Chapter eighteen 

[mischief-rei]

Short Story - Checklist

Click below if you want to read. This one is actually a tad darker than the last. I vaguely remember when I wrote it. I wrote it from my point of view on how the ‘special’ students were treated in the various schools I went to. 

This story ended up being graded as an 80%. Not bad, but I still feel that the scoring could’ve been higher.

Dear Diary, I just moved to New York, New York. The streets are crowded, but none more than my middle school. To keep things simple, all grades share the same room. The class is taught by three teachers, who switch out with three more teachers in order for all students to learn all required subjects. The students tutor one another. The students laugh and seem to have a bunch of fun! When I witnessed and overheard the friendly chatter, I thought that I could easily fit in and claim a group of friends for myself. I could see many faces that I could grow fond of; that I could keep until my high school years. My hopes were diminished though. After my first week there, my doctors, my parents, and the teaching staff finally finished my student program; whatever that means. The teachers told me I was special, and therefore I had to carry around a check list. The check list was merely a behavior sheet. They wanted to keep track of my actions. If I acted good, they'd give me a small hard candy or a pencil and pat my shoulder. I liked their praise, the sweets, and the attention, but I didn't understand how I was different from every other student. And they, all the grownups, refused to answer my asking of 'why.' I truly want to know! I want to know every detail on how I became 'special.' I want to know if I'll still have the happy life that my peers have. I want to know if being special will keep me away from that happiness. Because for some reason; I believe that being labeled 'special' means I will loose that joy my peers managed to grasp. I'll let you know, Diary, if I find that answer. Talk to you soon, Mika Brendetta ~ ~ The television glistened in the dark. From the streaming of words, Benny Ameiho could tell that his father turned on the news. Benny turned away from the screen to see his old man in an upright position. His face was drained of color, his eyes were as wide as the rabbit's food dish, and his body trembled from either fear or excitement. Benny couldn't really tell which. He was too dazed from waking up to truly see what his Dad was spazzing. Benny yawned and headed for his school bag. He didn't need to leave so early, but he wanted to meet up with Scott Litwik (a childhood friend) at the buss stop so they could talk about last night's football game. It was the Dallas Cowboys big game against the Giants! Suddenly, the old man stood up and turned to see him. "Ben," he said in a hard to hear tone. "I'd like for you to stay home today. There's been a bit of a mess at your school and I do not want you part of it," he murmured. Benny was dumbfounded! Nothing ever happens at his elementary. The place was incredibly boring. Most of the time he couldn't stay awake when the teachers spoke. "What happened?" Benny finally asked. All the old man did was point at the flashing news screen. Benny could make out a pale little girl; the same little girl that was in his class. What was her name again? Shucks, he couldn't recall! "She sure was a sick child..." his father muffled. Benny crept closer to get a better view of the TV. "Kid, sit down. I can't see," his father bickered. Benny did as requested. He sat on the marble tile and glued his eyes to the screen. The little girl had climbed onto the roof of the school. Her face was emotionless, yet in her small fist she held a crumpled piece of paper. She ripped it into small bits and allowed the wind to carry it away. Citizens crowded the school. A few shouted for her to get down. Some fools thought it was funny to demand for her to jump. The whole scene was chaotic! Just then, the girl jumped from the roof and landed with a messy thud onto the concrete floor. Instantly, the old man turned off the television. "Turn it back on!" Benny spouted. His father refused. "The whole event is dramatic enough, don't you think? You don't really need to see her-" "I want to know why she jumped!" Benny interrupted. "Then ask your classmates tomorrow," his father barked. Benny finally submitted to dropping the subject. He still wondered though, why did that girl take her life? What was so bad that she wanted to leave it? He sprawled out on his bed. The cushion squeaked in displeasure at his flopping. He turned to his side and stared at the electric clock on his night stand. Benny paid no mind to the numbers, only to the images of when he saw that girl in class. She was quiet, if he recalled correctly. She'd always smile at everyone, even when they yelled at her for doing something wrong. Her life seemed pleasurable enough. It wasn't dire or horrendous. His mind then swerved as he thought of his other classmates. The girls and boys would leave her to an isolated corner. They never greeted her, never smiled back, never waved. All of them, including himself, acted as if she had never existed. It was at that moment that Benny was consumed by dread. That dread formed from regret, which he carried to school the very next day. In class, he ignored the teacher's lectures like usual. Instead of doing assignments, he scribbled two words over and over in his spiral notebook. I'm Sorry. I'm Sorry. After the twentieth time or so, someone wrote back with a single word; Liar. Benny jumped out of his chair! His heart beat quickened as he scanned the letters on his page. The students and teachers spun around, perplexed by the sudden burst of noise. No one went over to speak to him. Instead, the class just went back to what they were doing as if nothing had happened. Benny stood alone, just like the little girl. "How am I lieing?" he asked out loud. To this the teacher requested that he sit down and be quiet. "HOW?!" Benny pressed. A teacher began to walk in his direction, who was clearly not pleased with his disruptions. Clueless to the dirty looks from his peers, Benny traced the words with his index finger. Tears dropped onto the page. "Why do you think I'm lieing?" he asked the air. The author of red wrote again. "Why is it now that you care? Only when dead am I noticed by you sick people...I'm not the one who's special! YOU ARE!" Benny's eyes grew wide at the text. Just as the teacher came inches away from his desk, he shut the spiral. "What does it mean when you're a special kid?" Benny asked the teacher. "It means that you think differently than other people. Is that all this is about? All the fuss?" the teacher asked back. "The girl that died yesterday; was she special?" he pried. The teacher nodded. "Mika Brendetta. Were you friends? Hard to believe. That child was not at all intelligent enough to associate with others." Benny peered up at her, stunned by the cruelty his teacher displayed. "We weren’t friends, but we would have been..." he said softly. "How sweet...now would you please pull yourself together and follow along with the others?" the unfazed teacher requested. Benny nodded and sat down, but he didn't follow along with everyone. He now understood why she jumped. He got his answer. Now, it was time Mika received hers. After school ended, Benny took his spiral out and found a place in the schoolyard. He began to write in the most neatly crafted text he could manage. "Dear Mika, I'm no liar. I spoke the truth, or wrote it. If I had known how the people here treated you; I swear I would've defended you! No one deserves to be ignored. No one deserves to be looked down upon just because they're different. We're all different in a way. The people here, including I, have been unkind to you. The others may not care, but know that I do. I understand if you cannot forgive me. I can hardly forgive myself. Know this though, that you will never be forgotten! Sincerely; Benny Ameiho