#saw this in my phone gallery and my friend convinced me to post it

[teotheratking]

Are you still heterosexual life partners if you're married? Asking for a friend

[ho3smadd]

One day

She'd been friends with him for years now, you'd think eventually the silly infatuation with him would have gone away by now....but no he was still the only person that always made her feel like her 13 year old self, like sometimes her brain couldn't form thoughts when he was around because all she would do was blush.

13

She'd just gotten a phone and it seemed like finally everything was going right for her

One day after school she saw that he added her as a friend and her heart filled with childish hope and thus began their friendship

As a 13 year old girl who was friends with the boy she liked, she tended to see signs where they weren't any and eventually she convinced herself that maybe he liked her too ....

That wasn't the case but she didn't feel all to bad , I mean he hadn't made fun of her or treated her differently and weirdly that's what grew them closer as friends

14

She was entering high school and she had a new crush on another family friend and she didn't think of him all that often

He messaged her about his sister's wedding in a month "if they tell me to go sit next to my girlfriend, I'll come sit next to you" she rolled her eyes knowing that if it came down to it he'd do it just to piss her off. He took so much joy in irritating her

On the same day the other guy asked her out and she said yes

When he asked her what's new in her life she told him and he didn't speak to her til November except for the happy birthday message she got in June

Sometimes she thought maybe he's jealous or maybe he just doesn't want to talk to me

As soon as he knew they broke up he started speaking to her again

15

As the years went on their friendship grew and grew but for some reason it didn't feel like a normal friendship

She was friends with other boys but things just felt different with him. All her friends would tell her "he likes you and you are just blind" she considered it but she was scared to get her hopes up again

They would speak from when the woke up til they went to bed. He knew things about her that nobody else ever did.

She was the hopeless romantic type with her head always stuck in books and he hated books with a passion but whenever she'd read a new book he'd want to know all about it and eventually he started forcing her to read the books to him before bed

Before her birthday people would ask her to send pictures of herself so they could post her and she was complaining because 1 girl made her send 51 pictures of herself and for some reason he was upset because she only sent him 1 picture , so she sent all 51 pictures to him as well. He created an album in his gallery for her

Eventually he ditched the excuse and of it only being for her birthday and would just tell her the folder needed to be updated.... he continued to update the folder for 2 years

16

In the beginning of the year she lost some of her closest friends because they were being horrible and she broke up with the guy she was dating and she felt alone

He was there for her , he listened to her cry and overthink and feel bad about herself and he would always try and make her feel better even though according to him he hated seeing her like this and he hated that she'd pick people who would treat her horribly

And so they became closer than they ever had been before

He started telling her when he was upset and when he was feeling down which he never did before

She'd let him help her pick her outfits and her hair and get excited to tell him about her day and all her stories

And after November exams it changed even more he had been subtly flirting with her for years and then all of a sudden it wasn't so subtle

He'd confuse her and contradict himself

One day he'd tell her to give another guy a chance and the next he'd tell her to stop talking to the other guy because he could give her more butterflies then that guy ever could

And then at a get together the two of them stayed up while everyone else went to bed and spent the night talking and that's when he knew that he'd been blind for so many years and she's was always there

And the friendship officially became more after all the pining and waiting but it still felt like their friendship which forced them to realize that maybe they were never just friends maybe they were always more

And the two of them were so happy together so blissful but when you are that happy things always go wrong

First her grandmother was admitted into hospital and then he broke up with her out of nowhere for no reason

And then he on Valentines day he called her

He said he really needed to speak to her and they did but she didn't know that would be the last time she spoke to him ever again...

That Saturday her world came crashing down and she would never be able to see him again or speak to him

Who would argue with her for hours over nothing and make fun of her and be there for her

Who would listen to her stories about nothing and be interested in them

Who would she have left

She didn't realize how much he meant to her and how much he was in her life til she was sitting and crying while doing bio homework because he used to tease her for finding it hard

She didn't realize how many stories she had to tell and she couldn't tell them to him anymore

She felt empty and broken and alone and everyone was telling her at least you weren't together for years and at least it wasn't serious but she still felt it all the same

He meant the world to her, she didn't Just lose the guy she loved , she lost her best friend and she was never gonna get the happy ending she'd been dreaming about forever because if it wasn't with him she didn't want it to be with anyone else

She was used to being the younger one but as soon as she turned 17 she'd always be older

--------

Ik my writing isn't the best and I suck at it but I just wanted to get my life off my chest

[lady-bugginette]

Rose Painted Glasses (A Lila Exposed Fic)

First Next

Inspired by @chatonbean post. 

The first part is by another lovely user by the name of @time-is-a-pain. This is their original post here.

The part after this one, that I will make sure is indicated, is by another amazing user @lenoreofraven. Their original post is also here. Their entry is after the cut.

I want to quickly thank both of the amazing people above for letting me use their additions for setting up this fic. It is very much a collaborative effort between many talented writers, I cannot take entire credit for this. 😏

time-is-a-pain’s entry:

Nathaniel had noticed lately that a bunch of the art Lila claimed as hers were in wildly different styles. At first he tried to rationalize it, maybe she’d been branching out style-wise? Maybe she hadn’t actually found her own style yet? 

It got much harder to rationalize away the differences when he caught a glimpse of an oddly colored part of a background. Only a shade or two off, but it was there. And it looked like it might cover a signature? Now that he was thinking about it, only a few of the art Lila had shown the class had a signature.

It was harder, but it was Lila. They’d talked a lot about how horrible it felt to have your hard work stolen like that. She wouldn’t steal from anyone. Right?

Nathaniel shuddered, he hated the idea that someone would try claiming his work as their own. He made extra sure that his signature was on the picture, and would be hard to cover when he posted it to insta. H was proud of it, and no art thief would stop that.

And he was right to be proud. It quickly became one of his most popular posts. So when he got to school on Monday. and saw Lila showing off his work, he snapped at her.

Of course, most of the class took Lila’s side. But when Alix and Marinette got there, and saw what was happening, they took his side immediately.

“How can you prove it’s yours?” Kim asked. 

A chorus of agreement swept through the room. Nathaniel took a deep breath, his hands were trembling, and pulled out his sketchbook. Flipping to the right page, he stalked over to Lila’s desk, and slammed the book down in front of her.

There it was. The original sketch. Clear in view of the whole class. Nathaniel’s work.

Lila peeked out from behind her fingers when the class went deathly silent, and Alya pulled away from her. 

“How many others?” Nathaniel asked quietly, watching the panic appear, and get locked behind Lila’s mask. “Were any of them actually yours?” 

lenoreofraven’s entry:

“How could you say that? How could you do this? After all the conversations we had about art theft.” Lila exclaimed back, trying to extinguish the doubt in the eyes of  those that watched her. Not everyone was convinced. Alix stood by Nathaniel, trying her best to offer support. While Adrien gently touched Marinette’s wrist, as if signaling for her to stay back.

It was obvious Lila couldn’t win these artists over, artists who have had their work stolen. Instead her eyes settled to Ivan, Rose and Juleka. After the situation with XY, they were fuming the moment the accusation touched the air. It was their weak spot really. Took any logic they may have away.

“You said you wanted me to do a quick sketch, and lent me your notebook as I had left my tablet at home. Then you do this to me?” 

“Lila just stop it.” Marinette growled, but she wasn’t the audience for this little stunt. Lila could claim they were in France, and Marinette would check google maps to make sure they hadn’t moved. This was about everyone. 

Even Adrien, who glared at her from Marinette’s side, was part of the intended audience. As he could make, or break, her reputation if he so desired. Considering how Ivan responded to the demand. perhaps, just possibly, she could deal with two birds at once. Use this as Marinette was an expert on plagiarism, and if she picked the wrong side it could be ruin for her.

“Stop what? Trying to take credit for my own work? I know you don’t like me much, but do you honestly condone this? I thought you would be the first person to support the victim of art theft.” Marinette just looked back with a blank stare, not even humoring the accusation with a response.

All eyes were still on Lila and Nathaniel. Not ideal, but it could be managed. It was the wrong time for crocodile tears. Her eyes scanned the work again. When she had erased the signature from the upload she had been careful, after this she would start adding her own sign. For now she just needed proof. This was a draft, not the official upload. She just needed something.

“Maybe I have been experimenting with styles a bit, but this is mine. See, there’s an L, as in Lila. I made it subtle so it couldn’t be erased, like how you stitch your name into designs in clever ways, Marinette.” Lila explained, pointing at something that could be an L, but was just as likely to be miscellaneous lines. Alya, Sabrina, and a few others that were still on the fence squinted at it, tilting their heads to try and see it. The members of Kitty Section instantly took it as fact. Max, Alix and a few doubters all shook their heads, realizing the stretch.

Nathaniel glared back at her.

“That’s not an L. That’s just lines. I don’t erase signatures like some people because if you look on my insta it clearly had my signature, matches all my other work, and is clearly mine!”

“Then you must have added it. We all know how disrespectful you can be of other’s art.” Lila remarked, as she flinched away from Nathaniel. She made it as dramatic as possible, acting as if the artist would hit her. 

“LILA!” Snapped Alix, not sparing any notice for Ivan, who now stood as a shield for Lila.

Lila simply sighed with a shake of her head, moving slightly to the side so she could be seen, but Ivan still acted like a bodyguard.

“I know Marc didn’t want to mention it, but that couldn’t have been easy to witness. I don’t know what happened, I wasn’t here for it, but I do know you tore apart someone’s journal. I can’t imagine anyone doing that. It’s cruel. Sure you’re friends and have made up, now working on the comic, but doing that to someone’s notebook? I’d rather eat glass than have my precious sketchpads or notebooks damaged in anyway. I’m just saying, someone who does that may be the type of person to disrespect other people’s art.”

My entry:

Nathaniel flinched back, looking at the others in class. Rose and Juleka glared at him while Ivan stood in front of Lila, unmoving.

“How dare you!” Alix started toward Lila only to be held back by Kim. Max frowned at Lila while adjusting his glasses, he looked at the drawing again, and looked between Lila and Nathaniel.

“Don’t you dare talk about something you have no idea about- You Snake!”

Lila smiled her condescending smile at her opposers.

“It’s not my fault he caused an akuma because of his jealousy. I know he was angry with-”

Alix made another lunge for her, Kim had to quickly catch her body from the air before she could attack the other girl.

Marinette was fuming, she was burning with rage. Her face was slowly turning red, before she suddenly took out her phone. 

Adrien looked concerned. He could feel the heat coming off of her body. He looked to the windows, and the classroom door, fro any akumas. He knew it needed to be resolved, and fast. Rose and Juleka were yelling in defense of Lila, while Alix was screaming in defense of Nathaniel. Lila was still ‘cowering’ behind Ivan, and Nathaniel looked like he was on the verge of becoming another akuma. Adrien was about to speak up when someone else did.

“Actually-” A voice broke through the yells of the classroom. Alya looked uncomfortable, with Nino standing, just as uncomfortable, next to her.

Lila looked triumphant, she knew Alya would be on her side. She sent a smug look at the oposing group, one that earned a glare from Nathaniel, a growl from Marinette, and a lunge from Alix, again. 

Nino stepped forward, his expression placating.

“All we have to do is see where Nathaniel says his signature is, and see if the spot was altered on the photo posted to both accounts.”

The request seemed reasonable, if the nodding heads of the other classmates were anything to go by, if it weren’t all a lie.

Lila started crying her crocodile tears, lip wobbling at the pair closest to the door.

“Y-You don’t believe me?” She sniffed as Rose comforted her, and Juleka glared at them.

“Not at all!” Alya walked up, her hands waving in front of her.

“We’re not accusing anyone.” Nino clarified. 

“We’re just comparing the pictures, that’s all!” Alya hastened to add.

Lila didn’t look happy at all, but Rose was already pulling up the picture on Lila’s instagram. Marinette doing the same on her phone of Nathaniel’s instagram.

They both laid out their phones on a desk for everyone to compare. Max was looking at the two closely, as well as his own phone.

“Oh Marinette, that’s a screenshot.” Max pointed out. 

Lila smiled through her tears, sure that she could convince the class that she edited the photo for Nathaniel, because he accused her that one time too. 

“Oh, my bad” She said in a falsely sweet voice, something was up.

“Here. Oh!” She made it look like she was backing out of her photo gallery, when she just swiped over, and let the class see another piece of art work.

“Hey! That looks like one of Lila’s pictures!” Rose, oh so helpfully, pointed out. And it was, one of the ones she posted to her instagram anyway. 

“Oh but that’s from this artist. See? I screenshoted it when they posted it, two weeks ago. See?”

They looked closer, and sure enough the artist posted it two weeks before, They looked at the same picture on Lila’s instagram that she claimed she finished two days prior. With a suspicious bloch where the other artists signature was was on their post.

Max pulled back, pushed his glasses back up, and nodded.

“Yup. That picture is the original, you can see the watermark. And the convenient spot that covered the watermark from the original picture, right there on Lila’s instagram.” Rose and Juleka looked at her, confused. Ivan turned around, looking for answers as well. Before Lila could get a word in Marinette took that moment to completely pounce.

“Oh, but what about these pictures? Do they also have erased watermarks, because they look an awful like the other artists I follow that have had their work stolen from them too.”

Alya and Max descended on the photos like vultures on a carcass, picking apart every screenshot in Marinette’s phone, and every post Lila had made on her instagram with Rose’s phone.

Rose didn’t protest as the hovered over her phone, she looked at Lila with tears in her eyes.

“Is it true? Did-Did you s-steal them?” Juleka wrapped her arm around her shoulder, but gave a hesitant glance to Lila. Ivan looked lost, Mylene currently being out sick, he didn’t know who to side with.

Kim didn’t have to hold Alix back, she stood back on her won. Her arms crossed, and a smug look on her face, she knew Lila had been caught. She gave a smile to Marinette, who gave a thumbs up in return. Nathaniel looked relieved, he also gave Marinette a grateful smile that she returned.

Lila knew she was losing her hold. She looked to Adrien, but he was busy looking (out for akumas) around the room.

She had to play her ace in the hole.

She burst into tears, sobbing.

“I-I’m so sick of this lying disease!” 

The others looked at her confused.

Alix snorted.

“Yeah, you are lying, and you are a disease.” Kim elbowed her for that, but he didn’t say anything. 

Lila had to move fast.

“I w-was going to take them down. B-But I really do like the pictures. I h-had no idea they had b-been stolen b-by those artists-”

“That doesn’t explain the watermarks!” Alix cut across.

“I didn’t steal them! Someone else did! I-I got permission f-from whoever stole the art f-first. A-and-” She hastened to add when she saw that Alix and Marinette were about to interrupt her.

“A-and I couldn’t help but put that I drew them, because of my lying disease! R-Remember?” Marinette looked enraged, Alix and Nathaniel looked at her in disbelief. Max also looked skeptical. 

“L-lying disease?” Rose asked tentatively. Lila nodded.

“Yes! R-Remember? W-When I accidentally got Marinette expelled.” At the memory being brought up, Marinette’s face darkened further, Adrien looked uncomfortable, and Alix and Nathaniel shared a look of realization.

“I didn’t mean to get her expelled! It was my disease! It acts up during times of stress! And with all of the charities I help with, and my disabilities, I get too stressed out and start lying again!” She looked to Alya, who looked like she was almost convinced. Nino was looking to Alya. Rose, Juleka, and Ivam were firmly back on her side again.

She just needed to convince Alya, and the majority would follow, or join Marinette in exile.

“I-I’ve been getting so stressed out lately! And I can’t control the urge when it happens! I am so sorry you guys! I didn’t mean-”

“That still doesn’t explain why you accused Nathaniel of stealing your supposed artwork.” Marinette pointed out.

“Or the fact that you brought up something that you have no idea about and threw it in his face!” Alix added.

Lila schooled her face to guilt.

“I’m sorry that I offended you Nathaniel. I didn’t mean to.” She let a few tears come to the surface of her eyes, but never let them fall. 

It was all Juleka and Rose needed to flock to her and comfort her. She looked to Alya, who looked on the verge of joining her. She just needed a little more.

“I can understand what made you want to draw that picture you posted, it looks a lot like mine. You drew inspirations from that, I get that!” Nathaniel looked livid, and Alix was ready to blow.

But Lila only worried about the two that were in front of her that weren’t at her side yet. She needed them to keep her hold of the class.

“I can understand drawing inspiration from what’s around you, Marinette does that all the time no?” Said girl glared at her. Adrien had finally stopped his tour of the room with his eyes, and looked at the group. He glared at Lila, but she could deal with that later. As long as he kept his arm out in front of Marinette, and out of her way, she could deal with him later.

She just needed Alya and Nino.

“I don’t blame you for being inspired! Not at all! I just want an apology for accusing me of stealing.” At the start of the protests from Marinette, Alix and Nathaniel, she looked to Nino and Alya.

“Right Alya? Nino?”

Alya hesitantly nodded. Nino didn’t react one way or the other, Hmm...

“See? It;s alright! We just needed to communicate!” Rose cheerfully added.

At that convenient time, Madam Bustier entered the room.

“Alright class! We have a busy day ahead of us! Finish up your chat and get to your seats!”

Lila looked to Nathaniel, an expectant look on her face that made his stomach turn.

Was this how Marinette felt?

Rose, Juleka, and Ivan looked at him expectantly too.

 Madam Bustier looked back at the group, waiting. Kim slapped him on the back.

“Hey! It’s resolved now! Just apologize and it’s all good man!” 

Alix glared at him, but Nathaniel just sighed.

“I’m... Sorry Lila.”

She smiled her condescending smile once again, that Nathaniel was beginning to realize was the one she always gave to Marinette.

“I accept your apology.”

And everyone started to go back to their seats.

Nathaniel didn’t missed the way Marinette opened her mouth again, but stopped when Adrien touched her arm with his hand. He whispered something to her and shook his head. Alix noticed this too.

She looked angry, and gave him a look of disgust before she subtly tore her arm away from his. He looked sad, but retreated back to his seat anyway. Marinette looked back at Nathaniel and Alix, to see them already looking at her.

She gave them a sad smile and looked to her desk, to see Lila already seated there. She let out a quiet sigh, and made her way to the back of the classroom.

“Hey Marinette?” Nathaniel asked quietly. She looked between him and Alix, who was toeing the floor.

“Do you want to sit in the back with us?” She was about to ask why Alix would sit at the back when she saw her bookbag in her hand.

She smiled at them and nodded. They made their way to the back, not noticing Adrien’s frown of sadness or Lila’s frown of annoyance.

She didn’t like reminding them of her ‘lying disease’. It might give them a reason to not totally believe her,though it was a great skeleton key to get her out of any situation because of her lies.

She turned back around in her seat, plotting her next move for the two new people that joined her exiled list.

Oh well, looks like she’d be adjusting her plans to fit two more.

What she didn’t know, was that there was another person that was beginning to catch on to all of her little lies. He just had to catalog them all on his phone first, before bringing the evidence to light.

Tag List:

@bean2342 @chris-pixie @pirats-pizzacanninibles @multifacetedfangirl @might-as-well-happen @legallyspawned @firesong323 @kuroko26 @runestarchild @mariae2900 @laadychat

[julemmaes]

Love her like she should be loved

Cassian and Nesta Archeron modern au

So, this morning I was scrolling through Tumblr and I saw this post who said “i just want a fic with cassian defending nesta!!! idc what the context even is i just want to see him being offended on nesta's behalf and being ready to throw hands” and I obviously couldn’t resist. The post is this one.

Nesta is not really present in this specific part, if you want more of this au you can always send an ask (and a prompt if you want) and yall know I would continue this without hesitation. Hope you enjoy, as always:)

Word count: 3,266

His day was not going well.

He was supposed to give an analysis exam that morning, but the professor had not warned any of the students that he wouldn’t show up because of something personal. After an hour in which they waited, one of the secretaries of the university came to inform them that no test would be held, Cassian just wished he was dead. In addition, he had spent the entire afternoon serving at Elain's small café and now he was exhausted. Especially since he had to argue with an old lady who insisted on ordering something that wasn't on the menu.

Sometimes the girl would ask him to help her, when it happened that the staff was not available and the customers were much more numerous than one would expect on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Cassian didn't mind, he would have nothing better to do anyway. With his part-time job at a bookstore and his classes at the university, he found it hard to have days to himself and never made plans unless he was sure he could get them done. Then, however, a little extra money would help.

He had just arrived at the door of the apartment he shared with his two brothers when he heard Morrigan's shrill voice, followed by Feyre's loud laugh.

Shit, he had completely forgotten that they were all going to be home tonight.

Puffing, he opened the door and as soon as he walked in he was welcomed by the exalted cheers coming from the living room. He closed his eyes, grimacing. They were all already drunk. He heard Rhysand calling out to him and, taking off his shoes very slowly, went to the others.

"There he is! Fucking finally," shouted Mor, lying halfway down on Amren's legs, "You took your time. Ellie said you left the shop more than two hours ago, where have you been?" she asked with shiny eyes because of the alcohol. Cassian took a look at the others and saw that the only one who seemed to be still sober was Azriel, but looking at the glass in his brother's hand he knew he wouldn't be like that much longer.

He moved his gaze back to the blonde and shook his head, "Taking a walk." he simply replied, then ran a hand over his face, "Well guys, I'm going to sleep. I would kindly ask you to keep it down, but I know it's impossible, so if you could not drag it out too long, you would do me a favor."

Rhysand burst out laughing and Cassian turned to him, noticing only now that Feyre was curled up on his lap, "I don't think so. You haven't partied with us in almost a week." Azriel made a sound of approval, whispering a faint true, "We miss you," he added, sulking.

Cassian snorted again, they were right. Actually, he hadn't been on the couch to have a drink with his friends for over a week, but there was a very specific reason. And the reason was called Nesta.

It had been five very long months and keeping their relationship hidden was starting to get tough.

"Listen," began Cassian, trying to find a way to escape it one more time and go to sleep. "I'm very happy that you only have three classes a day and then you can come here and get shit-faced, but-"

"Oh come on, my sister's coming later too." Feyre interrupted him, slurring her words. "We could play Risiko, with your rules. Would you stay in that case?"

He knew very well that it wasn't Nesta. No, it couldn't have been her. They never invited her. And he wasn't in the mood to play Drunken Risiko at all.

Cassian glanced at her involuntary, clenching his jaw and starting to walk backwards towards his room. "I repeat, I'm very pleased that you still have so much time to lose in these things, but tomorrow I have to work all day and I'm exhausted."

Armen scoffed, "God it's like hearing her sister," said the friend looking him straight in the eye, pointing with her chin to Feyre, who had tightened even more on her boyfriend. Cassian stopped at the living room door, looking at Amren in turn. Feyre nodded, with her eyes closed, "It's true, she’s been a bit of a bitch lately.”

As Feyre spoke, Cassian saw the image of Nesta smiling at him as she sat on her kitchen island, telling him he was an idiot.

Rhysand chuckled and leaned his head against the back of the armchair, "Take the 'a bit' away."

"The other day I met her at the mall and, like any sane person would do, I went to say goodbye to her and she just looked at me and left," Morrigan said, settling better on the couch, in what everyone in their group called the gossip pose. Legs bent under her body and a glass of red wine in her left hand.

Cassian wanted to leave, but couldn’t move. That was the reason why he hadn't been able to go out with his friends in the last few days: whatever they did, in one way or another, they were able to drag Nesta into the conversation and talk shit about her.

"I just can't figure out what's wrong with her," said Rhys, looking annoyed by what Morrigan had just told them. Cassian remained silent. He didn't want to argue with his family and it would have been avoided if he had simply left.

Feyre stood up to pour herself another glass of wine. She sat down next to Amren, resting her head on her friend's shoulder, "I really wish I knew that."

It would be enough if you talked to her from time to time, thought Cassian, crossing his arms on his chest. He caught Azriel's gaze for a second and saw that his older brother was watching him attentively. Too attentively for his liking. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking what he wanted. Azriel was about to open his mouth when the doorbell rang. Everyone's attention sprang towards the door.

"It must be Elain," said Azriel as he stood up, "hopefully she's not as dead as someone else is tonight," he said, making a snide remark to Cassian, who took advantage of the moment to turn on his heels and go to sleep. Elain wouldn’t have been offended if he didn't say hi.

As soon as he closed the door to his room he took a deep breath.

He undressed and lay down on the bed without worrying too much about getting under the covers. He let his hair loose, letting it fall on the pillow and then he starred at the ceiling. He picked up the phone shortly after and opened the gallery, starting to scroll through the photos in the folder called books' stuff.

Rhysand had a nasty habit of taking his cell phone and looking through his stuff and this was the only way to make sure he didn't see the hundreds of photos he had of Nesta and himself.

He thought about the last half year they had spent together.

He thought about how almost five months earlier Nesta had felt sick while she was alone with him and how she thanked him when he was able to calm her down and how she ran away soon after.

He thought of himself, losing whole nights of sleep thinking about what to do, whether to try to talk to her about what had happened or whether to let it go.

He thought of when Nesta had insulted him when he had given her the number of his therapist and when after talking to her for hours about his personal problems Nesta had looked at him with a completely different expression on her face.

He thought about when she had refused his therapist's number again, but promised him she would seek help.

After a month, she asked him if he wanted to go out with her. On a date. Cassian was a bit shocked at the invitation, convinced that Nesta was not looking for anything serious at the time. He had accepted regardless and this had led to several other dates, before they made it official about two months later.

Neither her sisters nor his brothers suspected a thing and both were inclined to keep it a secret. Nesta had had no problem doing so, as she hardly ever went out with the group, there was no risk of it slipping out of her mouth. For Cassian it was something else entirely. Especially in the last period.

Nesta was going through a very difficult period and Cassian was always nervous, on edge, ready to do whatever Nesta needed. While their families did nothing but insult his girlfriend.

There had been days when Cassian, worried that Nesta hadn't answered him for hours after calling him desperate because of something that had happened at work, nearly broke down. He had run to her apartment that time and Nesta had not opened the door. He had almost called Feyre to ask her for the spare key, but he managed to convince Nesta to let him in.

They had spent two days in her bed together, Cassian making up a stupid excuse with his brothers for not being home.

His flood of thoughts was interrupted when he heard the others laughing.

He put the phone on the bedside table again and lay down on his side, trying not to listen to what they were saying in the other room.

It proved impossible.

"Have you heard from Nesta lately?" Feyre asked. Cassian brought the pillow over his ears, but it was of no use. "No, not really. She doesn't even answer the phone," answered Elain.

"Yeah no, because I ran into her the other day while I was shopping and she didn't even say hello." Mor repeated in that shocked tone.

Cassian loved everyone in that house so terribly, but if they had continued like that, he would have had to go out.

"I really don't understand how she can behave like that." a little pause, "I've tried so many times to get her to do something with me, but every time she insults me and tells me to mind my own business." Cassian knew about Feyre's various attempts to help her sister. Nesta had told him about all the times she had tried to force her to dress up in a certain way so she could go dancing and meet some guy. Of all the times Feyre had told her that she needed a holiday, that they could go together to places like Adriata or on the south coast, where the beaches were populated with life and people their age.

"God that girl really gets on my nerves," said Rhysand. Cassian wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

"I feel sorry to even talk about her like this, but there are times when I can't understand why she hates me so much." Feyre spoke again. Cassian scoffed, knowing full well that she didn't feel sorry at all. Elain replied, "Oh no, Fey-Fey, don't feel bad. She's the one who gets away from everyone."

"But does she realize that if she continues like this she will die alone and sad?" this comment broke something inside Cassian's chest. Even more so because it was Mor who had said those words.

"Maybe she deserves it. With how she treats you, she doesn't even deserve you looking after her in this way".

"Maybe you are right. Every time I try something new, she pushes me further and further. It makes me feel like a bad sister," continued Feyre, in a lower voice than before.

"See? It also makes you feel bad. She's just a selfish bitch who seeks attention," concluded Rhysand.

Cassian couldn't take it anymore and got out of bed, slamming the door against the wall when he opened it.

"Cassian-"

When he entered the living room Mor looked at him with wide open eyes. She had got up and was coming towards him when he raised his hand to stop her.

"Shut up!" he shouted as he looked at Rhysand immediately afterwards. "Repeat what you said." he challenged him, keeping his distance. They were all looking at him in shock. His breathing ragged.

"Cass...what's going on?" asked Elain, getting up and standing next to Mor.

"I said shut up," he said, keeping his gaze fixed on his younger brother. "Again, repeat what you just said."

Rhysand looked at him with blurred eyes. Perfect, he was completely drunk, "Calm down man, we were just talking about Nesta." He looked at him frowning, "What's wrong with you?" said Rhys getting up and stiffening, staggering slightly. Azriel stood up in turn, shifting his gaze quickly from one brother to another.

Cassian contracted his jaw, clenching his fists.

"Why are you so upset?" asked Feyre, always sitting, probably too drunk to stand. Cassian looked at her and took a deep breath. Feyre looked at Amren as soon as she burst out laughing.

Everyone’s focus shifted to the girl, who looked like she was about to be sick from all the laughter. Mor kept looking at him though and he just wanted to tell her to stop staring.

"Why are you laughing?" Rhysand asked, even more confused than before.

Amren wiped her tears away, "It’s so fucking obvious that Cassian and Nesta are dating at this point that I really don't know how you haven't figured it out yet."

Cassian looked at her with his mouth wide open, "How...?"

"You have no idea how much of an open book you are for those who know where to look." replied Amren without even glancing at him.

"I was waiting for you to tell me about it." Azriel confessed in a low voice. Cassian turned toward him, frowning. Azriel raised his hands as a sign of surrender, shaking his head, "You have hardly been home for a long time, and perhaps I should have asked earlier, but I had my suspicions for a while." he smiled at him, "Well, congratulations." Azriel said, tilting his head and drinking a sip of beer. A toast. Cassian felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.

A weight that fell on him once again when he heard a choked laugh on the other side of the sofa.

"Congratulations? Azriel, are you serious?" Rhysand asked incredulously, passing his hand over his face.

Feyre and Elain were looking at each other in dismay.

"How can you think of getting with-" Mor was staring at him with her mouth open. "-shit, with Nesta? How can you be with such a person?"

Cassian saw red with anger. "Such a person you say?"

Rhysand approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Yes Cass, such a person. You know that she has no emotions other than disgust and hatred." Cassian moved to avoid his brother's touch. Disgust. Hate.

He saw Nesta smiling at him with one of his T-shirts on, lying in her bed, whispering I love you.

Cassian shook his head. "I really can't tell if you're joking or being serious when you talk about her." he whispered not being able to believe what they were saying. "Nesta, your sister," he said, addressing directly the two Archeron present, "is not doing good."

Elain had the decency to seem surprised. Feyre looked at him with shining eyes, whether it was alcohol or emotion he couldn't tell.

"Nesta is sick and the only thing you can do," he pointed out, "is to sit and drink and insult her until you feel satisfied with yourself.

"We've tried so many times to intervene," Feyre defended herself, in a small voice. She put her hands between her thighs. Cassian laughed and threw his hands to the sky.

"Intervene? Intervene, really?" he asked her sarcastically. He laughed again, no trace of amusement in that sound. "You mean when you went to her house, a few weeks ago, and yelled at her because she didn't want to go out with you and she answered you badly when you told her she had to stop being depressed?" now he was shouting. "Or when you told her that she sucked as being a sister and that she should be a better example for you and Elain?" Feyre held her breath, shutting her eyes.

Cassian turned to the other girl, "And you?" he asked her, a false smile on his lips, "Jesus, Ellie, I see you treating the rest of the world with gloved hands every day. You talk to people as if they were wounded animals and it never occurred to you that your sister might be the only one who really needs it?"

He no longer knew who he was talking to as he raised his voice further and started walking around the room. "If instead of telling her what to do, every day. You always say, say, say, try for once and ask for fuck’s sake. If for once you asked instead of doing whatever the hell you want. It would be enough if you were more interested in what she wants to do and less in what you would like her to do" his head was pounding.

He turned to Rhysand at the end. He gritted his teeth, a grimace of repulsion on his face. "You disgust me the most." his voice broke.

"Cassian-" Azriel got in the way.

"No, Az." as he looked at his older brother he thought that he too was no less. He had never said anything about Nesta, never, but he had never even stopped the others or tried to justify the behavior of the older Archeron.

"You were sick once." Cassian said, as he approached Rhysand. He looked at him raising his chin, breathing heavily. "You were sick and I helped you. You treated me the way Nesta treats her sisters. You treated me worse," he whispered, referring to when he and Rhysand ended up beating each other, because Cassian had pushed him over the edge, "You know what she's going through better than anyone probably does, and yet you're the first one to throw shit at her." Rhys looked towards Feyre. "You don't even know her. And yet you’re ready to act like your dad.” Rhys’ eyes shot to him, any trace of color draining from his face. Cassian knew he’d just hit the right spot.

"And you Mor." He turned to his oldest friend. "You're better than that. You all are." he said to no one in particular.

He closed his eyes and ran both hands over his face.

"None of you ever tried to ask her how she was. None of you have ever made an effort. A real effort." he whispered, with anger coursing through his veins. "I get that Nesta can be difficult at times, but we are the only thing she has. The only thing she should have at least."

with that, he left, going to his room. He got dressed quickly, put on his shoes and grabbed the car keys. Before he left he turned towards the quiet living room, where everyone was staring at one another.

"Perhaps it would be better for us all if we searched our own hearts," he said, opening the door, "If something happens, send me a message. At least now you know where to find me."

Rhysand opened his mouth to talk, probably to apologize, but Cassian had already closed the door behind him.

acotar taglist (if you want to be removed or added, let me know with a dm or an ask) (I also tagged the people who seemed interested in the comments of the original post, I’ll just tag you for this part)

@tottenhamboys20 @sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @nxssian @lovelynesta @maastrash

[thefanficmonster]

Kick Some Ghost Ass

”Until Dawn Gang x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Sex jokes (excuse my bad humor)

Genre: CRACK, Humor

Summary: It’s one thing when trouble finds this gang, but why don’t we take a look at what happens when they go actively looking for trouble. Needless to say, chaos ensues and no one is spared. Some are more affected than others, and some are dead-ass traumatized, but isn’t that just how life is in general?

Requested by my dearest ever - Until Dawn Anon. Hi lovely! I’ve missed writing your requests and I’m really happy to be back, creating another chaotic fic! I’m sorry it has taken me so long to post it but here it finally is - crazy as ever! I hope you enjoy it! Love you to Blackwood Pines and back baby ❤❤❤

I don’t know how I’ve found myself in this situation but I’m not complaining. If I get to do dumb crazy shenanigans with my crew, I’m ready for just about anything. Not to mention I’m no stranger to ghost hunting. I’m that kid that made DIY Ouija boards and took them to cemeteries with their terrified friends. You should’ve seen us leaving after capturing no ghostly activity - my friends relieved as fuck, and me pissed as fuck.

But today, I’m not expecting nor will I be accepting any disappointment. Especially not with Jess swearing on her Chanel purse that she wasn’t making things up when she said she had a haunted house she wanted us to visit. I must say, I appreciate this group’s enthusiasm when it comes to the paranormal. Never have I had someone who catches my vibe on the subject so well, let alone an entire gang all sharing the same opinion as me - that ghosts, demons and poltergeists are so fucking cool. Sure, Emily took a bit of convincing and Jess is not one to give a shit about the other world creatures invisible to the human eye, but something allegedly happened that changed her mind.

Her a-hundred-and-something-year-old great-grandmother passed away recently and though the death itself didn’t shake Jess up as much as it probably should’ve, the events that followed led to this moment right now - the eleven of us pooling out of two minivans that have pulled up to a terrifying looking house in a wooded are of the suburbs. Jess literally gathered us all on an ‘emergency meeting’ in the courtyard of our college just so she could explain the situation in detail - she doesn’t do well with explaining things in general, let alone when she’s hysterical - so we only understood what she was trying to say when she mentioned the word ‘ghost’. That’s when we all started listening more closely, with the exception of Emily, Beth and Sam but the latter two were intrigued despite trying yo hide it. You can only imagine how excited Josh, Chris and I were, Mike and Matt following a close second behind. Ash was a tiny bit more hesitant but Chris convinced her to give in. And just like that, a week later, here we are.

“I gotta ask, did your great-gran own a VHS player? Or a chest in the attic? Bonus points if there’s a creepy, child-sized doll in there.“ Josh asks as he yanks all the equipment he insisted we bring out of the trunk of the minivan.

“Quit fucking around, Josh! This is serious!“ Jess complains from the spot she’s standing in, shivering in the cold autumn breeze.

“Yeah, Josh! VHS players, creepy dolls, that’s all child’s play.“ I scold him as I pull on my jacket, wrapping it around me more tightly, “Shit gets serious when there’s a secret basement.“

“Y/N!“ Jess shrieks in exasperation. Honesty, how am I supposed to NOT bother her when doing the opposite is so much easier and brings more amusement? “You’re not helping!“

“Wasn’t trying to.“ I wink at her, driving her into a new level of fury that almost leads her to chuck her phone at me. If it weren’t such a prized possession of hers, I’m pretty sure she would’ve chucked it with the intention of knocking me dead. I’m lucky she has the aim of a drunk toddler that spun around fifteen times.

“Hey, quit pissing my girlfriend off, will ya?!“ Mike, who is basically halfway inside the trunk of the other van calls out to us.

I roll my eyes but choose to let it slide. However, someone else doesn’t. Emily does a dramatic turn on her heel, turning to face Mike, or at least the only part of him which is visible. You can imagine how hard it is arguing with an ass like THAT. I don’t know how Emily does it but oh well, I guess I do it too, in a way.

“So it’s girlfriend now, huh? No space between the words?“ Oh that smile she’s flashing him, it could make the Devil himself shiver. I find it kinda hot though - it means shit’s about to go down or hit the fan, either way, the rest of us will be entertained.

Mikey boy straightens up, gracing the rest of us by-standers with his dazzling features. Nah, I’m capping. I honestly think Mike is as attractive as I am patient - very little, almost not at all. It’s surprising how him and Jess are now apparently together since I always pegged her to be the superficial type.

“Got a problem with that, Em?“ He asks, eyebrow raising, head tilting to the side. Oh yeah, it’s on now. But, as someone who’s been quite excited to do some ghost hunting, and also as a representative of the peanut gallery formed of the rest of us who find it amusing and annoying, I feel the need to cut it short before it goes where it shouldn’t. I came to see some exorcist shit, not Keeping Up With The Bitter Exs.

“Jess, I sure hope your grandma is a blood-thirsty ghost cause I can think of at least two people I’d serve to her on a silver platter.“ I snatch the keys the blond has been jingling nervously between her fingers and jog up the stairs to the front door.

Ok I maybe overexaggerated the eeriness of the house. It sure wouldn’t sit right with you if you saw it around sunset or at night, especially not if it’s foggy, but a horror movie house it is most certainly isn’t. It’s pristine and well kept, not a single crack in the walls, the only reason it’s unsettling is because: 1) We’ve all seen a few too many horror movies; 2) There’s been reports of ‘ghostly activity’ - as far as Jess is to be trusted.

While I’m surfing through all the keys, checking each and every single one of them on the door because the real key is unmarked, I can’t help but overhear the conversation going on behind me on the porch.

“Can you believe we got all this in a single day and for a discount on top of all?! Whoever says Craigslist sucks isn’t doing it right.“ Chris’ enthusiasm over the deal him and Josh got on the ghost hunting equipment has been what’s keeping a wide grin on his face this whole time. Though I’m proud of my boys for not getting murdered by the Craigslist seller, I must say I hate that I lost the bet we had - I had to pay them each ten bucks if they didn’t get scammed/kidnapped/murdered and I’m now twenty bucks poorer. I’m not saying I value those twenty bucks more than my friends, though my broke ass needs all the bucks it has and all the dollar bills it could get, but Lord knows I hate losing.

“Yeah, and the guy was only mildly sketchy.“ Josh adds just as excitedly and proudly, “To be honest, Cochise and I were probably the scary looking ones in that parking lot.“

A look over my shoulder shows the twins, Sam, Matt and Ash giving the duo skeptical and somewhat disappointing looks and shakes of their heads. I’ll admit, the equipment is in very good condition and it’s the complete set for ghost-hunting, according to BuzzFeed at least. I’m impressed with the purchase - probably had something to do with how scary Chris and Josh actually look. The all-nighters we’ve all been pulling lately have taken a toll on them worst with the dark circles and bags under their hollow eyes, pale faces and brains turned to mush. I know I’d give them a discount to avoid them pulling out meat cleavers on me.

“That’s all fine and dandy guys, but do you know how to work any of this?“ Sam asks, hesitantly lifting the EMF reader and turning it in her hand, analyzing it with a curious gaze. 

Josh and Chris exchange a look before the former replies, “Just the cameras and voice recorder, the rest falls on them.” He points a finger at me and laughs, “Though they aren’t able to work something as simple as keys, they are more than qualified to be a ghostbuster.”

“You know, Josh, jokes on you, I can work keys! Jess, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be able to work well with organizing things, hence my problem with these keys.“ I hurl the bunch of keys connected my a scarlet keychain at Josh, “Lemme demonstrate my true skills.“ I hop down the flight of stone stairs and approach the pile of equipment the guys have created smack-dab in the middle of the house’s driveway. 

“Oh, I gotta see this!” Mr. Ex-Class-President all but runs over, frowning when we all turn to look at him just as I pick up the spirit box to show off how it works, “Oh that’s what you meant. So you aren’t taking your clothes off?“

Jess and I are alike in one thing - the need we feel to chuck objects at people who piss us off. “You’re girlfriend is, like, right behind you, Munroe. Have some decency!”

“I was gonna enjoy a show as well, but I’m guessing we won’t be getting one.“ The girlfriend in question replies, looking at me quizzically as though that’s gonna convince me into discarding my outfit.

“No, unless you’re a ghost.“ I point the device I’m holding at Mike, “But if your boyfriend here keeps acting up I might turn him into one.“

“That sounds kinda kinky.“ Beth’s comment surprises me. The wink she sends me even more so. “And I kinda like it.“

Ok, ok, ok, hold on. 

Flirting with Munroe is one thing, but Beth is a completely different story. I can be threatening Mike with a knife one moment and cracking sex jokes with him over cold beer the next. While Beth actually has the ability to get me flustered and blushing, and my close relationship with her brother doesn’t help. Mother fucker can just whack me upside the head every time he catches me fussing over my silly crush on his sister.

“Ew, you too! Keep it in your pants or at least get a room.“ Emily doesn’t miss a beat when it comes to being herself. She’s truly a garbage bin full of treasure.

“We’d do the latter if SOMEONE could get the door open.” I glare daggers at Josh who is making hopeless attempts at what I was doing earlier - unlocking that damn door.

“I’d be more than happy to come through for you ladies.“ Mike says, getting in a stance of a runner before a race, his body directly opposite the door.

Oh I can’t wait to see where this is going. I SHOULD RECORD IT.

“Mike, it’s still breaking and entering and it’s still against the law even if the person’s dead.“ Sam points out, entering her mother-like mode, ruining the fun and causing me to pout at her. She gives me a look of disappointment - one worse than I’ve ever seen on my parents - so I just shut my trap before she can also express said disappointment through words and have me feeling guilty for the rest of the day.

A loud crash suddenly echoes causing us to turn our heads to look for the source of the terrifyingly startling sound. One glance is all it takes to put our minds at ease and a second one is enough to provoke different reactions in all of us - the broken window telling the story of where Josh has disappeared.

“What did I just say about breaking and entering?!“ Sam shouts after him while the vast majority of us are cracking up like hyaenas. Jess is just gaping at the broken window next to the front door in disbelief. She obviously can’t decide whether to join in on the fun or serve as back-up to Sam. Josh did technically damage private property that’s partially hers, but if you ask me it serves her right for not marking her keys.

“Sorry, I was too busy breaking the window to hear that part of the conversation!“ Josh’s apologetic smile appears on the other side of glassless frame. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely sorry or holding back laughter but either way, he looks innocent enough for Sam to let him off the hook as long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble - in which case: tough luck. Chris, Josh and I are nothing if not troublemakers, especially when we’re together. Chris tones it down when Ash’s around, and the same goes for Josh with Sam while I’m simply problematic regardless of who’s watching. My chaos is untamable, it’s a blessing and a curse and I love it, even though it’s landed me in hot water more than once. It’s nice to be around people on the same wavelength - chaos resides within this group and not a single one of us can hide it.

“At least we have a way in now.“ Ash offers Josh a helping hand in this argument after she recovers from the overwhelming fit of laughter. “I hope the broken window doesn’t anger your gran, Jess.“

The blond snaps out of her trance briefly, “No, she was a very sweet lady, but damn is Josh creative!” She hurries to correct herself, “Destructively creative.”

I hurry to correct her once again, “Chaotically creative.”

“Guys, do you mind coming in? It’s very creepy standing here alone!“ Josh calls out to us, looking over his shoulder at the interior of the house, “I’m expecting to be snatched and dragged to that secret basement we mentioned.“

“Mention it one more time and I swear to God-!“ Jess screams, fists tightened.

Before her angry wrath could crash atop us, we all make our way into the house through the broken window, carefully avoiding the shards of glass strewn about. One step inside and we’re met with the upmost of horror clichés - a drop in temperature. We’re all wearing thick hoodies because the weather outside is chilly in and of itself, but said hoodies aren’t as efficient at holding the house’s cold at bay and away from out skin.

Chris and Matt make their way in last, carrying the equipment consisting of three cameras, flashlights for everyone, an EMF reader, a spirit voice box, a voice recorder and a motion detector. I help them hand a light to each group member as well as a ghost-hunting device before we venture onward.

“If I were your grandma’s ghost, I’d be ten times more pissed about that window. It looks to me like that lady payed a lot of attention to keeping things in order.“ Matt comments while he examines the expensive looking painting hanging in the hallway.

I hear Emily scoff, “Unlike some.” but the remark is said so quickly and quietly I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who heard it.

Jess laughs, “She did like things in order, but she was never as strict as you might think. As I said, she was very sweet.“

“So do you just not take after her at all or were you adopted?“ Emily’s remarks are no longer a mumbled jumble of words, “No, nevermind, of course you’re not adopted. Your parents are smart people, they wouldn’t have chosen you if they had the chance.“

Jess laughs again, much more menacingly this time, causing me to exchange a look with Hannah who’s walking beside me. “Twenty bucks says one of them isn’t making it out of here.” It’s just a matter of time, to be honest. If not the lodge, or any party we’ve ever attended as a group, this haunted house is the perfect opportunity for a murder. We could even argue it was a ghost.

Luckily, the two cats clawing at each other’s throats don’t overhear, “No, my parents aren’t stupid, but your boyfriend clearly is. He chooses to date you! Or are you holding him captive or something.“

Ok that’s enough. I can tolerate a lot of things, but people calling one of my best friends stupid is not something I’m about to put up with, “How dare you call one of my hoes stupid?” I sneer at Jess, eyes narrowing.

“I thought I was your hoe too!“ She fights back, looking almost offended.

“Even more reason you shouldn’t have called him that! I don’t tolerate my hoes not respecting each other.“ 

I don’t get to see where this argument goes because Ashley’s shriek echoes throughout the hallway, stealing mine as well as the attention of everyone else. 

“There’s a ghost in here!“ Making it to the doorway of the room she’s in first, I peak my head inside and see the EMF reader she’s holding going nuts as if it’s detected something.

“Don’t worry, Ash, there’s a dead cactus here. That’s not the ghost we’re looking for, is it?“ Chris, my amazingly bright friend says, quirking an eyebrow suggesting that remark was nothing short of dead-ass serious.

“Chris, darling, that’s not how it works. Cactuses are plants.“ I point out as sweetly as I can as to mask my laughter.

“Don’t the same ghostly rules apply?“ The genuine look of confusion he gives me almost makes me lose it.

“Ok children, leave the room, we need to set up a motion detector to be sure.“ Beth says with a tone that suggests she’s more than over our insanity. Jeez, count on her and Sam to start parenting us through our chaos. They are of high authority, must admit - one genuinely feels bad if they don’t comply to whatever these two girls demand.

We all pile out in the hallway while the twins set up this interesting motion detector with green dots. I don’t know what Jess’ granny looked like, but I bet that even the most unattractive of people would look hella good with this lighting. Thankfully the room is dark enough with the shutters closed and the curtains drawn, allowing the dots to be perfectly visible.

We stare at the minimalistic room littered with fluorescent green dots on every surface for maybe a minute or two but not much happens to the disappointment to some and relief to others. However, as if not wanting to let us down, the ghost makes a shy appearance if the shift of the green dots is anything to go by.

“Oh shit, is that a ghost?“ Chris whispers, sounding as amazed as I feel in this moment.

“It better be.“ I mutter in response, refusing to blink and risk missing anything important.

The sudden presence of the obnoxious noise of the spirit voice box makes us all jump. As I turn my head to glare at whoever’s using it, Josh speaks up. “Are you an attractive ghost?”

“Josh, that’s my great-grandmother, you ass!“ Jess barks with disgust in her voice.

In the meantime, I catch glimpse of Mike rolling up his sleeves. Oh shit, this ain’t good.

“I’ve been waiting for this!“ He shouts victoriously, cracking his knuckles.

Knowing this won’t end well, the first thing I do is snatch the camera from Chris’ hands and turn it on.

“Um, Mike, what do you mean?“ Sam’s back to being concerned, turning to the rest of us when Mike doesn’t give her a response, “What’s he gonna do?“

“Fight it.“ I answer as though it’s the most normal thing to ever have been done, “Or, ash he calls it - kick some ghost ass.“

“A freaking ghost?! He’s gonna try to tussle with something he can’t see?“ I can’t tell if Matt’s tone is disbelief, amusement or disappointment, but I believe he isn’t about to try and stop or dear ex-president in his pursuit and that’s all that matters. I ain’t about to let someone stop whatever’s about to go down from going down.

“That’s still my great-grandmother, you dumbass!“ Jess shrieks with something alike terror.

“Don’t worry Jess, I’m sure she’ll go easy on him.“ I say in an attempt to reassure her but I can’t even be bothered really, I’m too laser-focused on the circus that’s about to take place in front of me.

Mike, as if encouraged by my words, charges into the room. Much to his dismay, before he could even reach the ghost, he’s met with a much more vigorous enemy - the carpet. The rascal trips him up and Mr. Munroe falls flat on his face.

The group stays silent, looking at the glorious aftermath of the glorious fall. Told ya these lights could make everything fabulous. Must say, it’s truly an honor for me to have been able to catch all that on tape.

“10/10, would ghost-hunt with Mikey Munroe again.“

[introverted-explorer]

Will You Marry Me (For Financial Aid)

Summary:

The fake dating/real feelings college au no one asked for. Based on that text exchange between two friends in college wanting a better FAFSA Application.

Notes: Major credit to  @labelma (AKA Leilah) for betaing this and for encouraging me to post it.

I wrote this about a year ago and got distracted by life. Decided I would put it out into the world for other people to enjoy as a little birthday present for myself, enjoy!

David - italicized Patrick - bold Stevie - both 

You wouldn’t expect David Rose to be friends with someone like Patrick Brewer. Not only was he a business major, but also a huge sports fan and equally versed in the arts, which David certainly didn’t mind. Patrick was liked by everyone he met and no one really understood how he could be friends with someone as abrasive and standoffish as David. And somehow they were best friends. 

Stevie simultaneously regrets, is overly enthused, and is extremely amused by their friendship and takes full credit for the dynamic of their tiny but mighty friend group. She and David had met during orientation their freshman year of college, bonding over their shared disdain for their overly peppy orientation leaders. They quickly became inseparable, spending the majority of their down time together. A few weeks into school Stevie showed up with this average looking guy she had met in her Intro to Business course to their weekly dinner. Patrick had woven his way into their little duo with a few little teasing jabs at David to which David made complaints of an ‘unbalanced social dynamic’ but loved nonetheless.  

Nothing has really changed after two years of friendship. They would do pretty much everything together; homework, meals, vacations (thanks to David’s parents), you name it, they were probably doing it together. Even a few classes, obviously with a lot of pushing on Stevie and Patrick’s end and reluctance on David’s. David mostly stuck to his art classes but was convinced that a few business classes would help if he ever wanted to manage a gallery, good business acumen ran in the family after all. 

David came from money, but that money was almost never of conversation and often forgotten all together. It only came up when he casually name dropped or mentioned his designer and high end products. That was until they lost it all. Thankfully school and his apartment were already paid for through the year but it left David questioning his very near future plans. He worried if he would be able to finish out his schooling and where he would live once school was over. By some small miracle, his parents and younger sister found themselves moved to a town that they had bought as a joke at the pinnacle of his family’s financial success. Even better was the fact they were now living in the motel that Stevie’s family owned. 

After a long night of anxiety and research on financial aid for the next year, he discovered there were certain situations in which he could receive more aid. David never had to worry about filling out a FAFSA application when he still had money, it was never an issue if he received aid or not, but now it was the most important thing for his life to stay somewhat stable. His anxiety got the better of him and decided to decompress with the little bit of the weed he had left. 

Once he got a nice buzz going, he grabbed his phone to come up with a plan to get some of that aid. His finger hovered over his conversations with Patrick and Stevie. He thought Stevie would go along with his plan but would ridicule him to no end and decided that Patrick was probably the safer bet in this particular scenario. 

Hi

Can you marry me? 

The rational part of his brain told him Patrick was likely at one of his many clubs or doing homework or maybe even doing something only good people do. But the rational part of his brain was not steering the ship. The part in control kept yelling at him that Patrick was mad at him for coming on like that and he had ruined the friendship with just four words. 

I just looked at the financial aid website and it said I cannot get any aid except for unsubsidized loans unless I have a child, get married or turn 24, so I have to get married 

It didn’t take long for Patrick to respond. He would do pretty much anything for his friends and it’s not like it was actually a real marriage and could benefit himself. 

                       Yeah, okay. I’ll marry you. I need a better fafsa application too

That certainly wasn’t the response David had expected and certainly not that fast. David was used to people letting him down even though Patrick, and more often than not Stevie, had proven that people won’t always do that. 

Wait. Seriously?

Would you really do it?

I’m going to do actual research on this.

‘After I sober’ up David said to his phone after he sent that final text. 

Are we doing this?

It would have to happen like lightning fast. I’ve never had to do one of those applications aren’t they due soon?

Patrick knew David was likely either high or drunk, he hadn’t been dealing with the complete upheaval of his life all that well, and figured he would do all of the specific research as he enjoyed it and was painfully aware of the application and financial aid process. He felt the tiniest bit of disbelief pass through his brain as he started looking into this particular part of the process. Whether this was the idea of marrying David or marrying David to benefit their financial aid packages. He never really thought of his best friend like that before but it felt like a tiny part of his brain was saying this was a good thing. He shut that voice down and focused on his research instead. 

                                                                                                                  Okay.

 We’d need to get a marriage license which can be up to $300 depending on where we get it, and then we need to file for a marriage certificate. 

I’m an ordained  minister but idk if I could file my own marriage certificate

During all of the craziness that had been the last hour and asking Patrick to marry him, he totally forgot that Stevie was coming over. 

“David?” she called out opening the door and approached his bedroom.

“You smoked without me? You suck.”

David stilled. He had his phone still in his hand and a small smile on his face. As soon as he saw Stevie in the doorway his smile twisted to the side of his face. 

“David.”

“Stevie.”

“You never smile like that. What bit of celebrity gossip are you hiding on your phone?” She asked, grabbing the phone from his hands with little protest as David’s reaction time was slowed by his now depleting high. 

“What is this?” She paused to read the conversation. “You’re marrying Patrick? And for financial aid? I don’t know if I should be offended you didn’t ask me or not.”

“I thought about it! I thought you would make fun of me for it. I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine. I’m ordained by the way.”

David gave her a confused look questioning her random fact.

“I was bored in high school one day and did it online after I finished the assignment we were doing. It took like 15 minutes and now I can marry people.” She shrugged it off as if it were nothing. 

“And you’re telling me this because..” David trailed off trying to follow the conversation. 

“Because I can marry you and Patrick if you need me to.”

Finally David was caught up on the conversation. He took his phone back from Stevie wanting to tell Patrick. He couldn’t help the smile that came back on his face as hard as he tried to hide it. 

Stevie’s ordained and said she can marry us. So one problem down!

“I like this for you.” 

“Like what? There’s nothing to like!” David shrieked. 

David went back to his laptop to do further research into the actual benefits of marrying Patrick. Stevie nodded and pulled out her own phone. She figured if David was going to be preoccupied she could at least have some fun. 

So I hear you’re going to marry David?

                                                                                         And you’re officiating?

You’re not mad he asked me and not you right? I don't want this to put a strain on our friendship. 

Stevie laughed. She had secretly hoped they would end up together. She loved David but she couldn’t ever marry him, not even a staged marriage. 

I may have offered my services, yes. 

And absolutely not. He’s all yours.

The extra financial aid would have been nice but I could never marry David.

                                                                                                         Fake marry.

Okay, fine. Fake marry. Either way I am NOT interested. 

She looked back up to see David’s face now buried in his phone. He had to be texting Patrick.

It’s possible that I can get fafsa to pay for an entire apartment!

Where you would live with me obviously

David stopped and looked up at Stevie nervously. 

“I think I just asked Patrick to move in with me.”

I mean only if you want. You have no obligations to do that. 

You probably don’t. I mean bringing home a girl would be weird or whatever. 

Patrick had left his phone playing music on the counter as he made himself dinner. He didn’t think to check it until he was back in front of his computer with his dinner. He opened his messages to see four new messages from David. 

He can’t say he’s not surprised to see David spiraling after those first two messages. He still never understood why David thought Patrick would reject him as he had never shown signs of that during their friendship. He felt a certain sadness for his best friend. 

                                                                                 Of course I’d live with you. 

The thought of living with David didn’t scare him as much as it should. He knows David is high maintenance. He’s shared spaces with him during vacations. It’s not really something that bothers him. If anything he finds David endearing, especially when he’s a little frazzled making this encounter all the more fun. 

                      Think they would go for a nice little two bedroom apartment?

The relief David feels seeing that first response doesn’t last long. He doesn’t know why he feels a sense of sadness when Patrick mentions a two bedroom. They’re friends. A couple of bros getting married. Just for financial aid purposes. 

Do you think we could convince them for two baths? I’ve shared a bathroom with you. You don’t have much but what you do is wildly incorrect and I’d rather not ruin our friendship with that. 

Marriage is a compromise David. You’ll just have to deal with my incorrect bathroom products. 

We’re really doing this. 

                                                                                                            Yes we are. 

        Can we talk more about this tomorrow? I need to get some work done tonight. 

We can talk about this whenever you want.

Just

Preferably not before 10 AM. 

             Never. I know you David. Lunch after my class tomorrow? Just us?

Stevie hates that we’re ditching her. 

But, yes. Lunch sounds great. 

“So you’re marrying Patrick and ditching me to go on dates with him?” Stevie remarked after reading their exchange. 

David seemed shocked but hummed shaking his head in some sort of hybrid of no and yes. He stood up and shook his arms out. Stevie knew he was getting flustered proving that this might just be more than just an easy way to get some help with tuition. 

[mca-attack21]

Mystery Bullet Part 3

This is the third and final part to this series, thanks for joining me on the ride! Part 1: Here  Part 2: Here

The phone rung a couple of times before Sherlock answered. “Awh John, you’re missing the fun.”

“She’s okay, just had a bad reaction to the antigens in the blood they gave her during surgery.”

“Did they give her the wrong blood?”

“They claim they didn’t, but that is the only thing that makes sense.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant! The bullets weren’t made of ice, they were made of blood. That explains everything.”

“I’m not sure I follow,”

“Think about it the bullet disappeared. She had a bad reaction to antigens. Ice wasn’t dense enough, but the blood would be perfect. Someone used human blood to create a projectile that when froze with liquid nitrogen and shot by pressurized air would resemble a bullet. It wouldn’t leave an exit wound and would dissolve. It also explains why she said the wound site was cold.” Sherlock explained.

“She’s awake now, you should come and see her. She’s asked about you,” John replied.

“I’m glad she is okay, I will come to visit when I have solved the case” Sherlock replied.

“Sherlock, she is still in critical condition, you do understand that right?”

“The auction is tomorrow, we are running out of time,” Sherlock answered before hanging up.

John wanted to call him back, but he knew that it was no use. He instead went into your room and sent Molly home for the night. When you woke up he explained what had happened and Sherlock’s blood bullet theory.

“Have you found the paintings yet?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The real paintings are still in the Museum somewhere. There is too much traffic, extra security, and outside security cameras for them to have been removed. None of the other security cameras were tampered with and no other guards were affected. It had to be an inside job because someone walked in and out of that well-lit room without drawing suspicion and left the same way. They had to be in there well before they actually shot the security guard. Between that and the looping footage, I would assume that the guard was in on the heist and then was double-crossed. Regardless, there is no possible way that the art was removed it is somewhere in that room. I called the art restorator that you met, he said that he would meet with me to check over the paintings. He wanted me to come in that night, but I told him it would have to wait. Oh my god, it was him!” you realized.

“How so?” John asked.

“He knew that I was on to him and he knew you and Sherlock wouldn’t be home. He had access to the facility and no one would question where he was going. He has worked at the gallery for a while and would have had plenty of time to plan everything out.” you explained.

John was laughing and pulling out his phone.

“What?” you asked.

��You are insane, that is what. I need to get normal friends,” he answered. 

“Is everything okay?” Sherlock answered.

“Yes, but you need to go to the museum, I’ll meet you there.”

 “Why?”

“Because Y/n solved the case and we need to go pick up the paintings and culprit. I’ll explain when we get there. Call Mycroft.” he said and hung up.

“Okay now, you are going to lay here and rest. No exceptions. Sherlock and I will come by when it’s over and we will see what we have to do to get you out of here. Is there anyone you’d like me to call?” he asked.

“Nope, I think I’ll take a nap. Be careful,” you answered.

Sherlock and John went to the museum. It didn’t take them long to discover where the real paintings were being hidden. They then went to Dr. Argonza’s office, to no one’s surprise he wasn’t there. They did find a cryogenic dewar which could have easily been used to store the blood bullets. There was an airbrush and pipe that Sherlock was sure could provide enough velocity to cause the injuries. The entire rig would easily fit under a coat and be hidden. Sherlock filled his brother in and together they came up with a plan to switch the duplicates back with the originals and wait for Dr. Argonza at the auction where they would pick him up.

Convinced that not even Mycroft’s men could screw this up, John and Sherlock prepared to leave. John had them stop by the flat to pick you up some spare clothes for your return trip. He was surprised to see that Sherlock had cleaned up the blood and everything from his experiments earlier that day. He was glad that this was almost over and that things would soon be back to normal. 

When they arrived at the hospital they were told visitation hours were over and made some type of excuse using their “badges” to get passed the nurse. John led the way to your room and Sherlock followed. They were surprised to hear talking from your room. That surprised turned to concern when they realized that your door was locked.

Meanwhile:

You were tired and understandably so. But how were you supposed to get any sleep when nurses were constantly coming in and poking and prodding you. This nurse was different, you hadn’t seen him yet. He came over and prepared to inject another medication into your IV. 

“I had my last round of medication an hour ago,” you spoke confused.

“This is a post-op Antibiotic, Doctors’ orders,” he said nonchalantly.

“Which one?” you asked painfully forcing yourself to sit up to get a better look. 

“Carbenicillin? That can’t be right. I have a severe reaction to Beta Lactums.” you explained.

“Hmm, it doesn’t say that in your chart,” he replied before injecting it in.

You immediately tore out your IV and tried to hit the Nurse call button, shouting for help. 

“Shut up! Shut up!” he shouted coming over and placing his hand over your nose and mouth forcefully. You tried to fight against him but your body was too weak and the fear was taking over.

“If you would have just stayed out of it, none of this would have happened. I didn’t want to kill you, but you’re too much of a liability now,” he explained.

You were beyond scared now tears running down your cheeks. You fought against it with everything you had but it was too much. The burning in your chest took over and the black circles grew. 

That is when Sherlock and John burst through the door. Sherlock ripped Dr. Argonza off of you and threw him on the ground. You gasped and struggled to breathe. John had him at gunpoint until security was able to collect him. Even then, he waited with him until Mycroft showed up with his men to take him away. Back in your room, the nurses had kicked Sherlock out so they could thoroughly check you over. You were understandably a mess and demanded AMA forms. You gave them no choice and fought through the pain to remove all of the monitors that were hooked up to you. You sat up sheepishly and started putting on the clothes that John had brought. The nurses tried to reason with you, but you weren’t having it. That is when one of them decided to let Sherlock in to see if he could talk any sense into you.

“What is it that you think you are doing?” he asked concerned.

“I’m leaving. Are you going to help me?” you replied clutching your head.

“Y/n, you can’t leave. You need to stay here and let them take care of you, you’re in no condition to go home” he tried and then he saw something that shook him; you started crying. 

“I can’t stay here, please don’t make me stay here” you cried.

He felt like he was entirely unequipped to handle this situation and wished that John was there.

“It’s okay Y/n, everything is going to be okay. Just lay back down.” he tried.

“I want to go home Sherlock, I’d rather die there than stay here,” you sobbed. 

He went over to your side and did something that was very rare for Sherlock, he gave you a hug. 

“I was so scared” you revealed.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s over now,” he soothed. 

“I can’t stay here, Sherlock,” you added.

“I know, we’ll figure it out. Just relax,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,”

“You have nothing to be sorry for Y/n, just lay back down until John returns,” Sherlock instructed taking a seat next to you. It wasn’t long before you fell back asleep. And shortly after that both John and Mycroft walked in.

“What is all this?” John asked referring to you sleeping in your clothes and not being hooked up to the machines.  

“She doesn’t want to stay here. She signed AMA’s and tried to leave.” Sherlock informed.

“Well she doesn’t get a choice, she needs to stay and be looked after,” John replied. 

“You know, I have never seen her cry before today.” Sherlock whispered, “She literally said that she rather die at our flat than to stay here.”

“We can’t take care of her in this condition,” John reminded.

“Mycroft, do you think that I can cash in a favor?” Sherlock asked acknowledging his brothers’ presence for the first time.

“You are running low on those, what do you want this time?” Mycroft returned.

“The VIP suite here until Y/n can safely check out,” Sherlock replied still not taking his eyes off of your sleeping form.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said as he exited the room.

“We almost lost her three times today John,” Sherlock realized.

“She’ll be okay though, and that’s what counts,” John reminded.

The next two days were spent in the VIP suite of the hospital. Sherlock refused to leave your side even though you told him it was okay. The Art Gallery covered the entirety of your medical expenses as compensation for you saving the auction. When you were finally allowed to go home, you were ordered to take it easy for a week. Sherlock refused to take any cases during that time, which was quite out of character. This mystery was one of the few which never made it on the blog, and that was okay.

[valkyriesryde]

Tough Guy - 7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/N meet to finally have that talk. 

Word Count: 1,399

A/N: third to last part and its the non-date everyone has been wanting to spy on! Cried a lil while I wrote this but that’s just my emotional attachment lmao hope yall enjoy it

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

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5:20pm. You were early, sitting on a park bench looking out over the water. You sat on your hands to stop yourself from fidgeting. The words you wanted to say you’d played over and over again during work, getting barely anything done, though it being Friday no one was really doing any work anyway.

You’d waited two days to hear from Bucky - James, again. Wanda had received the forefront of your overthinking at work and when you got home you let out the rest of your frustration on MJ.

Maybe you should leave, maybe this is too much. What needs to be said can be said through text. You unlocked your phone and opened Bucky’s messages.

Just tell him that something came up, yea, that’ll work. Something came up and you’ll have to reschedule. Then just, never reschedule. Easy. So why can’t you type it out? You know the words to say, you know what to type out but you just can't find yourself doing it.

You wanted to see him. You wanted to talk to him. Sam told you what he knew. Wanda told you what she knew. Neither of them knew the truth, Bucky lied to them and you wanted to know why. You also wanted to tell him your truth, you needed to tell him the truth, tell him why you said no, why you left.

You felt your chest constrict and your breathing get shallow. You can’t do this.

“I hope you still like hot chocolate.”

5:30pm. Smack bam on time there he stood with two coffee cups, one held out towards her.

"I wasn't sure what kind of coffee you'd want so I got you a hot chocolate."

Bucky sat down next to you, you muttered a thank you but that was it. You sat in an awkwardly comfortable silence, staring out at what was around you. The trees which swayed slightly in the breeze, a few couples walking along the path, some teenagers sitting on the grass.

"Why are you here?" Bucky's voice was small and timid. For you, he wanted you to say because I missed you.

"I got a job"

"That's what Wanda said," he looked at you, studied you, you cursed him and how he could always read you so clearly. "That's not it though, or that's not all of it." Like a magazine.

"MJ, my roommate slash best friend, she got a job here. Moved out, convinced her boyfriend to come with her. She saw a job posting and sent it to me, I applied on a whim and I got it." You shrugged your shoulders, it wasn't complicated. Everyone thought it was all soooo complicated but it wasn't. You got a job, your friends are here. "Took me three weeks after getting offered the position to actually accept it. MJ convinced me to, she said demons don't chase you to Brooklyn. She forgot my demons were already here, I guess."

"Am I a demon now?" Bucky watched the teenagers laughing, he noticed the shared looks between two of them. Fools in love, he thought, not quite aware of it yet.

"No, suppose I'm yours though."

His eyebrows pulled down, a small frown prominent on his face when he registers what you had said. "Why did it take you so long?" He couldn't look at you, if he looked at he would want to kiss you, so he kept looking at the group teenagers with their brushing touches. "To take the job, why did it take you so long to take the job?"

"Well that I'm not proud of," he couldn't look at you but you couldn't look away from him. He looked confused and sad. For a cat person, he reminded you of an awful lot like a puppy. "You."

Five drunk nights going over the pros and cons of moving over the bridge. Two trips out to see MJ so she could show you what you were missing out on as you walked through the streets with the hood up and head down. One trip to the office where you met Wanda and she showed you where you would, hopefully, be working. Eighteen times you looked at that photo. Him. Smiling so candidly at you, laughing behind his drink, sitting on the beach with marks on his skin from the night before for everyone to see. Eighteen times you wrote his name in the pros column and nineteen times you crossed it out and rewrote it under con in big bold letters.

"I was so scared of seeing you. The slight chance that I would ever run into you and what your reaction of me would be."

"Ironic. So why did you take it?" His lips were in a tight line, jaw locked. He felt guilty for being a reason, if not the reason, for you not taking a job you obviously wanted. He felt guilty for the way he had been so harsh to you and to Wanda and Nat. He wanted you to come here for him but you hadn't. He wanted you to find him, tell him about the rest of your travels and let him take you on a date but you hadn't.

"It was my dream job," you shrugged again. I figured it out! You wanted to beam and shout it out I figured out who I wanted to be and what I want to do! "I wasn't going to turn down that for a guy I hadn't talked to in almost two years.” You smiled slightly at the thought, “to be honest, the thought of possibly seeing you again was pretty exciting as well.” A deep sigh left your lungs “even if our goodbye wasn’t great.”

Bucky hummed and leaned back. He thought about the nights you’d told him how you felt like a failure because you weren’t using your degree. How failure followed you around like a dark grey cloud wherever you went so that’s why you ran away and started exploring the world. Yet the grey cloud still followed you. It followed you through Greece and Italy when you visited all of the places you studied and reminded you how you wasted your time. It followed you to Hawaii when you got the call from MJ to tell you about how Peter and Ned’s startup got picked up by Tony Stark. It yelled at you that that could be you, you could have a career but you don’t even know what you want to do, what a waste.

Bucky thought about what you told him one night, the balcony doors were wide open and everything was still apart from the crashing waves and his fingers in your hair. “You made the grey cloud go away.” You mumbled it into his chest and nuzzled further into his side and that’s when Bucky knew he loved you.

“You wrote a song about me.”

“I wrote many songs about you, Mr Tough Guy.”

Bucky’s lips twitched up, “did you ever do the Pacific Crest trail?”

He wished he had told you, he always thought if he had then maybe things would have gone differently. He understood now because he really did know you. You were happy, you were brighter than you had been in Hawaii, you were sure of yourself.

"I did, I completed it even" you couldn't help the smile that stretched across your face, you were so proud of yourself.

"I knew you would, knew you could."

You spent the next half hour talking mindlessly about life. Catching up, sharing stories, talking about work and life and everything. It all flowed just like it did at the dingy little art gallery where you first met. You didn't even have to try it just flowed.

There was a comfortable silence as it passed 6pm and the sky started to turn orange.

"James" he hummed, his arms were slung over the back of the bench, cups had been thrown away long ago. "Do you think we could start again? Maybe try being friends or at least civil with each other?"

James pondered the suggestion for a moment. Then he stuck out his right hand and gave you a smile.

"My name's James, it's nice to meet you" he winked.

"Hi James," you shook his hand and laughed with him, "I'm Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Permanent Taglist (Open): @witch-of-letters​ @turquoisekokiri​ @harryngtonewithyourshit​ @morsmordrethings​ @buckysdumbmetalarm​ @marvelsangels​

Bucky Barnes Taglist (Open): @bxrnsfeyson​ @brilliantbellesoares​ @supraveng​ @chubby-dumplin​ @stuckonjbbarnes​ @meganlikesfandoms​

Tough Guy Taglist (Open): @kneel-begyourpardon​ @buckysdumbmetalarm​ @itz-kira​ @pinknerdpanda​ @jamielea81​ @justabitoverobsessed​ @thebadassbitchqueen​ @merigoldcaroline​ @sebbbystaaan​ @sandyclaws​

[khaoticallykat]

◇The Prince and The Punk◇

Chapter 5: No Plan

Word count: 1,794

Summary: you and Ransom go out to the city.

Warnings: language, fluff

A/n: I'm actually 3 chapters ahead and I really wanna post all of them, but I won't. Also trying to make these chapters short for scrolling purposes, because I post on mobile.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

You sat on the bed, playing on your phone, wrapped in the soft white bathrobe while you waited for the dryer to finish with yours and Ransom's clothes, he soon came knocking at the guest door and opened it, holding your clothes in his hand.

"I hope you didn't sniff my underwear like some creep." You said, taking your things.

"I didn't. I smelled your socks." He joked as he held up your leather jacket, "Hope you didn't mind that I washed this too, it smelled like beer."

Your face dropped as you saw your washed leather, it was warped and you could see cracks forming on it, "Aw shit," you took the jacket from him, rubbing the ruined fabric, "you do know that you're not suppose to machine wash leather, right?" 

"Oh, I'm sorry." he raised his eyebrows, "I can buy you another one? In the meantime I can let you borrow one of mine." 

You shook your head, "I can just buy one myself, I know you meant good, but next time, read the tags." 

Ransom nodded and closed the door behind him, leaving you to get dressed. Once you were ready, you met Ransom downstairs to head out for lunch. He threw a long brown petite coat around you before leading you downstairs to the garage to the already warmed up car. On the way into the city, you and Ransom made little small talk, dancing carefully around the subject of what would have happened in the bathroom. He mainly talked about football and tried to convince you to come to one of his games, you both settled to see him practice. You talked about concerts and which one you wanted to go to next, Ransom begged to be in the pit of every show you mentioned, even the ones that could get really out of control. Once you both arrive in the shopping district of the city, Ransom parked in what could only be described as a fancy parking lot, other nice cars were parked there and the security guards looked professional and the cashier wasn't sketchy. 

You followed Ransom closely, taking in the city around you, everyone you passed looked like they had on something designer made, it made you cringe deep down, they all looked snobby too. Ransom walked you into the first shop, obviously the store's name was in French and you thinking about the prices made your blood pressure rise. 

"I'll help you look for something similar, but we can always get it custom made for you too." Ranson smiled, walking to the women's section.

"You really don't have to do this Ransom," you sighed, "we could have went to a Macy's or JCPenny's-"

He scoffed, "You deserve a better jacket after my little fuck up, don't worry about it."

You groaned, head resting against his shoulder, "Fine. Just this one time you can get me something like this, but I'm going to pay you back."

"Again, my fault, you don't owe me anything Y/n." 

You picked up a jacket similar to your old one, the material felt amazing, but as you read the price tag you quickly placed it back, mouth agape and eyes widened. 

Ransom was dying at your expression, "What? Too expensive?" He picked up the jacket and looked it over, "It's really nice, try it on." 

"Hell no, can I even do that in here? I feel like I'm making it lose value when I touch it."

He took the jacket off the hanger and began to pull off the coat you were wearing, "you're being weird, just try it on." 

You rolled your eyes and took it from him, the jacket fitted perfectly on you, it was longer and more comfortable than your last one, you had to admit, Ransom picked a great store.

He watched you, knowing that getting a new jacket would make you happy, he couldn't help but to blush at your amazement, "Wanna wear it out of the store?" 

You shook your head, "nah, I'll save it for special occasions, that jacket you have is pretty comfortable." You said, "Why don't we find a leather jacket for you?"

"Seriously?" He laughed, looking over at the men's section, you grabbed his hand and dragged him over.

"It'll be your first one, baby's first real leather jacket," you teased, "you're the baby in this situation." 

Ransom smiled as he watched you bring up different jackets to him, he started to wonder, when was the last time anyone helped him with clothes? Clarissa always looked at stuff for herself, it felt strange but humbling to know that someone else thought he could have stuff. It made him become more self aware of his feelings, his feelings for you, he liked this feeling, he loved feeling like himself with you. 

"Ransom, for fuck's sake, pick one," You groaned, "leather is heavy and I'm holding five of these for you to try." 

"Well who told you to do that?" He asked, picking up one and trying it on, "so? Can I be part of a gang now?"

You laughed at him, "you look like you just stepped out of the 80's motorcycle scene." 

Ransom smiled and slicked back his hair, something back that made your heart thump harder in your chest, it looked really good on him you wouldn't admit it to yourself. But you would admit that he was cute when having fun, he was actually funny and charming in his own sense. It made a panic alarm go off in the back of your head, he was your friend and friends can have little crushes on their friends, right? Just as long as there were boundaries.

"Guess I am cool by your standards." he winked, a wink that would have killed you.

"I guess so, punk does look good on you." 

"And fancy looks good on you," he said, "wanna look around more while I pay? I feel like you'll faint if you see the total." 

You nudged him in the shoulder playfully, "I think I would, thanks Ransom." 

Ransom paid for the jackets and met you by the door, he handed you the receipt but you shook your head. You headed out, Ransom right next to you, he kept talking about the restaurant he was taking you to for lunch. It was in French and you couldn't pronounce it, but he swore that you would like it. By the time you got to the last block, you were huffing, trying to keep up the pace with Ransom, he stopped, letting you hold on to his arm as he pointed like an excited child to the restaurant. 

The restaurant was in the style of a french bakery, but larger. The waiter greeted you and lead you to your table, Ransom pulled out your chair for you, thanking him you sat and took in the restaurant. Looking at the menu, your eyebrows were raised, you knew it would be expensive, but this expensive? 

Ransom reached across the table and took your hand, "Order what you want, stop looking at the price."

"I'm not looking at the price." You lied.

"You do that thing with your eyebrows, you're looking at the price." 

You sighed, "fine, you got me. I'll get everything on the menu." 

"And I won't hesitate to buy the whole restaurant." He smiled. 

"You need to control your spending."

Lunch went by easy, the food was beyond amazing, the first bite would have brought tears to your eyes. Ransom's phone would vibrate a few times during lunch, but he soon turned it off, clearly annoyed with whoever was trying to contact him. You both finished and he paid, he took you around to a few other shops, a bookstore which kept you busy for a while. There were books that you've never seen in a major bookstore before, you wondered to yourself if you needed more books at the moment, but you knew you worn out Ransom's kindness with paying today. He took you to a record store next, Ransom would ask you questions about what you listened to, picking out a stack of records from your choices. You reminded him again about his spending habit.

He replied with the classic, "one record is fine." Using his big pleading blue eyes to soften you up.

"Puppy eyes don't work on me. But I'll let it go this time."

The last store Ransom took you to was like an art gallery, you were busy looking at the different paintings while Ransom was looking at his phone, missed calls and messages all from Clarissa. He replied back, seconds later, a text from her. 

'You need to answer me faster next time, some of the football team and cheer squad want to have a little party before winter break is over. You're hosting at your house. It's big enough."

Ransom rolled his eyes, he didn't mind having people over, but that many people would mean he would need some sort of security for his house. He looked over at you, your back to him. Ransom slowly walked up behind you and placed his chin on your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. 

"You wanna come to a party, Y/n?" He asked, sounding bored, "I'm having one before the break ends, the football and cheer team are coming."

"A party? With those kind of people?" You laughed, "I guess I can come for a bit, but I won't stay."

His arms wrapped around you as he breathed a sigh of relief, "great. It's two weeks from now, I can text you the date." 

You shuffled nervously in his arm, pulling gently at his finger from your waist, "Ransom…" you murmured.

"Too close?" He asked, quickly letting you go, "I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine, if you need a hug, I'll hug you," You turned at faced him, "and honestly, you give good hugs." 

He happily picked you up in his arms and swung you, "Thanks! Clarissa is stressing me out with this party."

You frowned, wondering what she said to him, did she know that you were with him? 

"We should get going, I have work tomorrow." 

Ransom dropped you off at home after a long day together, you took your new jacket from him and began to take the coat he let you wear off. 

"You can keep that, it's old," He smiled "plus, it looks better on you." 

You nodded and thanked him before getting out the car, once you had your door open, you waved him off as the lights flashed and the car took off down the street. Once you were up in your room, you were finally able to lay down on your bed and fell asleep.

[endless-vall]

Blossoming - Thomas Mendez x MC fanfic

Summary: Thomas is sure he isn’t ready to move on and start pursuing Ellie romantically yet, but when Zoey is threatened to be taken away from Ellie by her ex-husband, and his protective side emerges, his feelings make a shift.

Author’s note: I’m not sure how it works in other countries, but I know for sure that in mine courts tend to take the mother’s side on custody fights, given that she wants the custody and isn’t abusive/mentally unstable/etc.  

I made a post a few days ago stating there wasn’t nearly enough Moty fanfics and so I’ve decided to contribute myself! Hope you’ll like it ^^

*Spoiler : They didn’t kiss in this fic, it’s too early, but the tension is amazing and makes it so much more worth it when they do finally give in! ;D

Thomas was finally off work early, and on his way to pick Luz from her sitter. He'd promised he'd take her to the new exhibition she was so excitedly non-stop blabbering about, and he was supposed to meet Ellie and Zoey there.

They were best friends, after all, but Thomas suspected that maybe the two girls were looking and making up reasons for him and Ellie to meet at this point.

Not that he had a problem with that, he truly liked Ellie and there might be something special there, between them, but a pinch in his heart always kept him at arms-length from her, a hollow Soledad left there, a hole he was not quite ready to fill up yet.

And what was so amazing about Ellie was that she understood and gave him all the time he needed, which was why this has been getting more and more difficult. He wanted to move on, but simply couldn't right now.

"Daddd" His bean ran out to meet him at the doorway, not wasting any second. She was already dressed up for the trip to the museum and had a backpack on her back, ready to leave.

Thomas chuckled, and thanked the sitter who stood behind her, at the door.

Turning, he took Luz's hand and smiled brightly. "Ready to go?" He asked, hyping her up.

"Like, yesterday." She replied, making them both laugh.

He arrived at the museum, but didn't find Ellie in the front, like he assumed he would.

"Maybe we got here first," he explained to an expecting Luz, who looked like she was going to burst if she wasn't able to run around the museum and blabber about things he didn't really understand.

"You should call her!" Of course Luz would encourage him to do that, but honestly it wasn't such a bad idea.

He dialed the number, but the line seemed to be busy. Furrowing his eyebrows, he hung up.

"What did she say???" Luz's big eyes glimmered as she questioned.

"She didn't pick up, but you know what? Maybe they're already inside, we should go in and look for them, alright?"

"Alright daddy" She basically leaped out of the car and was at the doors of the museum before he had a chance to close the car's door behind him.

Thomas simply smiled and followed his daughter, ignoring the concern blossoming in his stomach for Ellie. Everything was probably fine.

After entering the museum and finding the exhibition they were looking for, the two saw Zoey already checking all the cool stuff in there.

"See? I told you we'll find them here." He gestured and Luz giddily approached her friend.

One thing was still not putting his mind at ease, though, since he couldn't find Ellie anywhere. He looked around the gallery, but she wasn't in sight.

Approaching Zoey, he kept a calm tone and asked, as if by the way, "Hey Zoey, where is your mom?"

"Oh, she had an important call to answer, and she stepped out since they don't allow phonecalls in here," Zoey pointed out the sign. "I promised to behave and stay only in this room so she let me stay." Zoey smiled.

"Oh, alright." He smiled back at her. That made sense, seeing as she did have busy phone line when he called.

He followed the girls, watching both of them now, as they talked and got excited over stuff on the exhibition.

Finally, a few minutes later they passed an inner courtyard of the museum, and he saw Ellie sitting outside on a bench, seemingly in a heated argument. She got a glimpse at him, smiling fondly, but only for a second before going back to what seemed like an unpleasant conversation.

"Zoey, here's your mom!" Luz called excitedly, pointing. She really did like Ellie a whole lot.

Zoey bit at her lower lip. "Yeah..."

Looking back at Thomas, she looked as if she had something to say.

"Is everything alright, Zoey?" Suddenly, an urgent protective wave passed through him, as he looked at her troubled expression.

"Luz's dad-" "You can call me Thomas"

Zoey smiled more confidently at his words.

"Thomas," she started again. "You're a lawyer, right?" This wasn't what he was expecting Zoey to ask, but he nodded nonetheless. "Yes, I am."

"My mom will probably not want me to tell you that," He didn't really like where this was going. "But she could use your help, like, really." Zoey said, still concerned. "Of course I'll help," he crouched down and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, earning back a grateful smile.

He threw another look outside, feeling another protective wave wash through him, but this time for Ellie. She needed legal help? This seemed even more serious than he'd first anticipated. She seemed as if the phonecall was done, and Thomas decided he wasn't going to stall talking to her.

"Girls, could you stay here for a moment? I'll be right back." He told them. Luz and Zoey nodded in sync and got into another conversation about things they both liked.

Thomas got out, now getting a better look at Ellie. She had big dark bags under her eyes, as if she didn't sleep for a few days (even more than usually being a single parent deprived you of). She looked so frustrated, her whole body language tense and rock-solid, and she didn't even notice him approaching.

"Hi," he started kindly, sitting beside her but letting her have her space. "How are you?"

Ellie almost jumped in her place, forcing a smile quickly as she realized who was sitting beside her. "Oh, hey, I'm fine." Another fake smile. "You?" He was a lawyer, reading people's faces was a nice quality to have and made his life easier when working with a client. Although Ellie was much more than a client, obviously.

"I'm fine too," he nodded, but wasn't about to step down.

"A little birdie told me that you might need my help..." Thomas leaned back against the bench, while Ellie shook her head.

"That little...." Both chuckled lightly.

"I..." she bit her lower lip, not quite able to explain.

Thomas took her hand in his, comfortingly, and Ellie turned to look at him, a tiny bit calmer.

"You don't have to tell me, but I will do everything I can to help if you'd want my help." Thomas assured her.

"My ex-husband is in town. Zoey ‘s dad." Ellie spat it out.

"Oh." His grip on her hand immediately loosened. It hit him like an arrow to the heart.

Why did it hit so hard? Wasn't he the one that said he wasn't ready to move on just earlier? And if so... why did it feel like someone took his heart and crumpled it like a piece of paper?

Panic washed over Ellie's face as she noticed he recoiled. "No, it's not that-"

"You don't have to explain-"

"He wants custody."

"Oh." Thomas felt silly for taking it the way he did.

"Over Zoey. He wants to take her away." Worry washed over Ellie's features again.

"Well, usually courts tend to support the mother's side when it comes to child custody. Especially considering there aren't any claims of abuse against you or anything that indicates that you're not fit to be a mom. Zoey wants to stay with you, too, so you actually have a strong case. You don't have to worry," while he had to go into lawyer mode to explain everything, internally he was grateful that he was wrong with his initial assumption, and had a few seconds to get his cool back.

"But he's trying to bribe her, and he now has a wife and a steady, good-paying job and I can barely keep up." Ellie's smile flatters.

"You also have a damn good lawyer at your side," he drops the lawyer act and smiles brightly at Ellie.

At last, she looked somewhat convinced. "I'll pay you back-"

"Ellie." He took a hold of her hand again.

"I'm serious-"

"Me too. Zoey is your daughter. You’ve done everything for her. I don't want her taken away from you either." He smiled, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Ellie let out a nervous laugh out, as if she was letting all the frustration that built up in her out with it.

"You know, I was so upset and got so worked up that I didn't even think of asking for your help. I forgot that you were a lawyer and know much more about it than me. I didn't even think about it." She leans against Thomas' side.

"It's okay. Sometimes we get so overwhelmed and focused on our problems that we forget about the rest of the world." He'd be lying if he said he didn't lean into her touch as well.

Ellie chuckled. "Exactly"

She glances inside, making sure Zoey and Luz were still in line of sight.

"We should probably head in, right? I was out here quite some time now." Ellie shrugged.

"We probably should," Thomas nodded, even though he liked the way they cuddled on the bench.

Hell, to someone looking from the side, it might look like more than cuddling. But who cares what other people thought, anyway?

Neither of them made a move to stand up and go back.

"Thomas?" Ellie shuffles and turns to look at him.

She's... so close... he could probably kiss her right now. And for a chance, he doesn't feel guilty about it.

Something about wanting to protect her and her family and keep them close to him really did affect him.

But just before he can lean in and press his lips against her she talks. "Thank you." Her voice is sweet and gentle and genuine.

"It's my pleasure." He answers in the same tone, and with that, she stands up and escapes out of his reach.

"Let's go back?" She motions back to their daughters and Thomas follows suit.

Pretending like he didn't just imagine kissing her. Pretending he wasn't fighting the urge to do it anyway, right then and there, anyway.

He knew Ellie wanted it too... she was giving him time, after all.

He wasn't done grieving, this wasn't an easy process and there wasn't a magic solution, but he was undoubtedly developing feelings for Ellie, feelings that until recently were reserved only for Soledad.

She came into his life and his heart started beating strongly again, not just getting by or putting on a strong face for Luz’ sake, but also for himself.

"I just want to make sure I’m helping, not hindering.” she told him, a while ago. She was definitely helping.

[r6s-imagines]

For the prompt request can you do 34 & 36 for Goyo & a female reader? I love you work too btw, you are doing amazing! 💞

i can officially say this is one hell of a unique post! i’ve never seen anyone genuinely interested in goyo before, i hope this satisfies you!

goyo x reader >> a day in the city

•••

requested: yessir, thanks again!

warnings: cursing

prompts:

#34: “you should probably shut up.”

#36: “you’re cute when you’re horribly pissed.”

you can find the prompt list here

MASTERLIST!

•••

summary: a vacation into puerto vallarta turned into a life or death encounter.

•••

it took weeks to convince your family to take a month off of your bustling life in southern texas. between the political chaos and personal bearings, you just wanted to go somewhere and take photos with a smile. your closest friends lived in the area of your destination and you picked up just enough context to situate yourself into the culture.

puerto vallarta was breathtaking. many times you separated from your family to observe the everyday life of the locals, selling their homegrown fruit or creating homemade clothing. your favorite activity was to sit on the pier and feel the mist meet your dewy skin, tasting the salt and sketching out the landscape.

your legs dangled into the water, watching the boats rock in place and licking a mamey ice cream. your phone buzzed in your pocket.

mom: took a tram out of the city but there’s a delay. stay by the pier, we’ll be there soon! xx

you grinned, hoisting yourself up and locating los mercados to browse, barefooted. you enjoyed the pressure and liberty from the absence of shoes and you took every step gladly. you patted your black shorts pocket for you cash, confirming its presence. you disposed of your treat and picked at some vegetables, effectively dodging vendors looking to make a sale. you rubbed your shoulders through your translucent white shirt and felt a hot burn blended into your growing tan. your eyes caught a brown sun hat. you approached an older man, waving to his products.

“¿cuánto cuesta este sombrero?” you asked, thankful for passing your spanish exams in year eleven.

“200,” the man responded. you nodded and handed him the adequate money, swapping for the hat and placing it atop your head. you nodded and continued on your way, pausing.

what’s that noise? you asked yourself. rumbling met your toes and you wiggled them, looking down. the rumbling turned into a bursting explosion, radiating from what felt like miles away. everyone jumped and bailed, assuming cover or protection from the blast. you whipped out your phone to text your mom. a flurry of people ran by, one knocking your phone straight from your hands and sent to the floor with a crack.

“debes ir!” someone shouted, looking back only once.

determined to locate your family, you made you way towards the commotion, into the city not far from where you stood.

•••

the city streets burned your feet as you padded through the loud city, cars only going one direction; out.

you recalled the destination mentioned to you by your family earlier that day: a local gallery. located near a major landmark, you made your way to the center of the city, fighting against the current of people.

boom!

another explosion was set off, this time closer and ear-bursting. you closed your ears and yelled in pain. helicopter blades whooshed through the air and sirens became gradually greater in volume. people dropped down and you took cover behind a building, careful to avoid authority confrontation. once the clear was assumed, you made your way into a large, professional seeming building marked with what looked like gallería.

the main entrance as well as the side and back ones were closed off with metal panels, but your determination sent you looking for more entrances.

a window was barricaded with a green set of planks and you punched it, feeling just how soft the wood was. you punched it again, feeling it give way from a few hefty smacks. you swung a leg in, then two, and walked your way through the seemingly empty building.

“hello?” you mindlessly called out, each step echoing into nothingness. “mom?” no response.

“¡pon las manos en el aire!” someone shouted at you, a laser sight blinding you. you reached up to cover your eyes, earning another displeased shout from the voice. “¡ahora!” the frantic commands went past your head and you were unable to translate them.

“what?” you called back, bewildered. “i—i’m sorry, i don’t—“

“you speak english?” he asked, lowering his gun. you slowly nodded. he sighed and placed his hand on his neck. “you’re not supposed to be here, this is a very dangerous operation.”

“i’m just trying to find my damn family. said they were going here.”

“you need to keep quiet,” he mumbled, grabbing your arm. his grip was strong but not painful.

“i don’t see a need to be quiet, dude, nobody’s here and i’m the least of your problems! can you just let me—“

a rush of heavy footsteps filled your ears following the clink of weapons. the man wrapped his arm around your waist and took off, nearly sending you on your ass as he pulled you into cover. your hat flew into the air, landing silently. you exclaimed again, and this time the man held you close with his hand over your mouth. the stranger peered past the corner and slammed his back against the wall. the beating footsteps thundered past your location. once the coast was clear, he removed his hands. you crossed your arms.

“you should probably shut up,” he said, stern. you pouted, now considering minimal movement. “césar.”

“y/n,” you whispered back, unamused. “is there any way i can get out of here? i don’t wanna be swatted.”

césar chuckled, eyeing you up.

“not on your own,” he answered. “and for the record, you look cute when you’re horribly pissed.” you froze, arms unfolding and you looked away, wishing you could cover yourself with your hat. césar began to explain the situation.

“these high profile guys planned an attack on the joyería, jewelry store. i’m here to hold down the fort, make sure nobody takes anything.”

“wait, this isn’t the gallery?” you inquired. he shook his head. “damn. i need to work on my spanish.”

“that shouldn’t be your concern right now,” he replied. “i’m gonna get you out of here.”

“can i at least get my hat?” you begged, noting the absence of potential threats. “i just bought it.”

“stay here,” césar commanded, taking off to the possession. he snatched it, bringing it to you with a flourish. “for the lovely lady.” you took it with a smile, placing it atop your head once more. the walkie talkie on his chest beeped.

“necesitamos ayuda, goyo,” someone said. he leaned down and replied with a phrase you had not learned.

“you’re gonna take these stairs and run as fast as you can where you came from,” he explained. “i’ll watch your six.” you nodded.

“goyo?” you said.

“hm.”

“your name.”

“oh, yes. it’s my code name. i’m a specialist. explosives.”

“well that makes your whole ‘stay quiet’ thing out of character,” you replied, giggling. “i’ll get out of your hair.”

“it’s a shame we haven’t met before, and in the worst possible circumstance. i hope we meet again soon.” he took your hand and kissed it.

you turned, checking the corner before finding the window you entered through. turning around one last time, you saw goyo, giving a half-wave-half-salute gesture with a wink.

•••

your family was kept safe from the acts of terrorism in a military containment just outside of the gallery. they’d been huddled around a tv, and you joined them in their seats. your eyes trailed across the english subtitles.

“reports say 31 year old, codename goyo, was most helpful in aiding the friendlies for the threat.

in an audio interview with the hero, he had this to say:

‘in a city like this, people need someone to look up to. in a state of loss and confusion, everyone needs help. if it means you earn the gratitude knowing another beautiful life was saved, then risking your own was worth it.’”

[etherealwaifgoddess]

More Time - Chpt.17

Summary: Emma and Steve are both devoted to helping Bucky recover from his injury though the process is slow going. The guys finally admit their feelings to Emma and make her an offer she can’t refuse. Then her decision sets her life on a course she never could have imagined.   Master list can be found HERE.

Warnings / Content: Fluff and feels all the way :)

Word Count: 2.9k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! So this chapter has the scene that started the whole fic. I had a dream one morning a few months ago of being bed with Bucky who was trying to distract me while Steve was trying to sketch me. It was so freaking clear and vivid that I knew I wanted to write it, and the more I laid in bed and daydreamed, this whole little world came together. We only have one chapter left too! The final chapter AND the epilogue will be posted tomorrow evening around this time. And then I will be taking a much needed hiatus for a week! In the mean time, enjoy this penultimate chapter! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Seventeen

It was three weeks before the news finally started dying down. Bucky was getting around much easier on his crutches but still needed help with some things. Emma had returned to work part time but still spent every night at the guy’s apartment. She had used up every last day of her paid time off but didn’t regret a second of it. Steve was back on schedule with his appointments and had adjusted his hours at the VA so that someone was always home with Bucky. Though Emma still went back to her apartment for things from time to time she had started referring to their place as “home” without even realizing she was doing it. Bucky and Steve both knew she had effectively moved in and they were more than pleased with that development. They wanted to officially ask her but she seemed so content with things as they were, they were afraid of rocking the boat. Eventually Bucky had made Steve promise that they would ask her the next time the opportunity presented itself.

Bucky had pushed himself too hard the previous day when he’d insisted he was up to walking to the coffee shop for breakfast. It was only half a block away but it was the furthest he’d gone in weeks and had proved to be a little too much. He paid for it dearly for the rest of the day, and the following morning he was still stiff. Emma insisted he stay in bed for breakfast and Steve curled up with him to make sure he stayed put. She didn’t make anything fancy, just bagel sandwiches and coffee so that they could eat while still nestled in their big, overly soft bed. The morning sun was shining in the room, bathing it in a golden glow that made Steve restless until he got out his sketch pad. He needed to capture the way Emma looked in that moment before it was gone. Bucky watched with amusement, remembering all the times Steve had convinced him to model for him. 

It took a few adjustments but once Steve got Emma where he wanted her he started drawing at lightning speed. Emma was laying on her stomach, head cradled on one arm with her hair spilling out around her. She was in just her sleep shirt with her bare legs crossed up in the air behind her. It wasn’t the most comfortable position to hold without moving for minutes on end but she did her best to hold still. Until Bucky intervened. He couldn’t roll around much because of the cast but he was able to stretch just enough to tickle the sole of one foot when she stretched for a moment. Emma squealed and wiggled away while Steve pleaded for them to behave so he could finish. Bucky held up his hands placatingly, retreating back to the head of the bed. He could tell Steve was almost done a few minutes later when he kept glancing up and making random little adjustments. Bucky decided Steve had seen enough and with a great flop he flailed himself forward, landing right next to Emma who he attacked with tickles. Steve grumbled, setting down his sketch pad while Emma screamed for mercy. Not willing to miss out on the fun, Steve pounced as delicately as he could on Bucky while avoiding his cast. Bucky liked to say he wasn’t ticklish but Steve knew better. There were two small spots, one on each side of his torso, on one particular rib, that if hit just right made him howl. After skittering his long fingers along Bucky for a moment he found it and Bucky rolled into a ball the best he could with the cast, yelling at Steve to take it easy on the cripple. Emma was hysterical watching them, relieved to have a moment to catch her breath. 

The chiming of Emma’s phone interrupted their fun and she groaned as she turned off the alarm. “I don’t wanna go.” She lamented, clutching the phone to her chest. She was being dramatic, she knew, but having to go to work and leave the guys in bed was practically torture. 

Bucky exchanged a look with Steve before speaking. “What if you didn’t have to?”

Emma rolled her eyes, “Oh sure, I’ll be sure to grab a lotto ticket on my way in.” 

“No, I’m serious.” 

Emma sat up to look at Bucky with wary eyes, “What do mean?” 

“You love art, it’s why you got your degree in it. You should be doing something in your field.”

It was hard not to bristle at being told what she should be doing with her life but Emma bit back the snarky response she wanted to give. Choosing instead to just be realistic, “That would be great but nowhere that’s hiring can offer me enough to go full time and still manage to live in the city. I have bills, Bucky.” 

“That’s what I’m saying. What if you didn’t have to worry about all those bills? What if you could just take a job at a gallery and work your way up from there?” 

“I won’t take your money.” that Emma did bristle at.

Steve, knowing he’d feel the same in her shoes, jumped in to clarify, “We’re not offering you money, doll. We want you to live with us. You’re here every day now and most of your clothes are here too. After Buck got hurt you basically moved in, it’s just a matter of logistics.” 

“I didn’t realize...” Emma was quiet a moment, she knew he was right and a pang of guilt hit her, “I didn’t mean to take advantage of you guys, it just kind of happened.”

“You didn't take advantage.” Steve assured her, “We want you here. And if you were actually living here you wouldn’t have to worry about rent or utilities and you could take a job at a gallery.”

“I’m not going to just move in and mooch off of you. I’d have to be able to contribute.”

“You can help with groceries sometimes but you should focus on your student loans first since you’re not finished paying them.” 

“It still doesn’t seem fair.”

“Well, it doesn’t feel fair to us that you have this huge debt hanging over your head that you really didn’t have a choice in taking out so you could get an education. But, since we know you won’t let us pay it off, you can put your money towards paying it off faster yourself.” 

Emma was floundering her way through pros and cons, refusing to let herself get carried away at the idea of living with the guys. “But what if… what if things… don’t work out? I can’t do that to you guys.”

Bucky gave her a sad smile, he knew she was worried about their well being just as much as her own. “We love you, darlin’, how could it not work out?”

“What?” she squeaked out, not having expected that answer in a million years.

Bucky hauled himself up so he could pull her in against his chest, “I love you.” he told her earnestly. 

Steve took her free hand, rubbing his thumb over hand soothingly, “I love you too. We both do, and we want you to move in with us. Not because it’s convenient, not because you have more socks in this apartment than we do, but because we want to share our lives with you.” 

“Oh.” Emma squeaked out between tears. The guys were quick to wipe them away from her face, waiting with baited breath for her response. “Okay. Let’s do it. I love you too, both of you, so much.” 

Steve and Bucky enveloped her in a hug, holding her close while tears turned to giggles and then sweet chaste kisses and a few more happy tears. 

Emma was fifteen minutes late to work and gave her two weeks notice that very day. 

The places hiring in the city varied from large world renowned art collectives to small hipster galleries who only featured up and coming artists of one scene or another. Emma saw the allure of both types of places and applied everywhere that looked even remotely interesting. She got a few offers her first week, none that really felt right and one that was completely unpaid. The second week, panic was starting to set in. She was down to her last three shifts at the bar and had two more weeks on her apartment lease. Emma knew the guys wouldn’t push her to take a job for the sake of taking a job but she didn’t want to be out of work long. Her savings had dwindled a bit when she was down to part time while Bucky recovered but she had enough for another month with no pay if it came to it. She really hoped it wouldn’t though. 

Emma was chatting with a group of Friday night regulars, it would be her last shift seeing them, Sunday being her last day. Her phone buzzed angrily in her back pocket and she waited for it to die down but it persisted like a hive of bees. A call then, not a text. She pulled her phone out, trying to catch the call in time but it went to voicemail right as she swiped frantically to accept it. The number was unfamiliar and she hoped it was a gallery with a new offer instead of someone offering a timeshare sales pitch. Two agonizing minutes later a voicemail notification flashed and Emma excused herself for a minute to dart out back to listen to the message.

Hi Emma, this Pepper Potts. Steve and Bucky’s friend. Steve mentioned that you were looking for a job in an art gallery in the city and I was hoping to talk to you about that. I might know of an opening you would be perfect for. Give me a call back when you get a chance. Thanks, bye.

Emma stared blankly at her phone for a moment, dumbfounded. Pepper Potts, a friend of Steve and Bucky’s. Not Pepper Potts, famous, multi-billionaire, savvy business woman who Time had made woman of the year twice now. Emma blinked a few times, still getting her head around the seemingly causal call. She had to call her back, it would be rude not to. But what were the guys thinking not warning her that this could happen? And why would Steve, of all people, who railed against the evils of nepotism and the whole “it’s who you know” side of politics, try to have a friend give her a job. Well, she could at least give the woman a call back. Taking a steadying breath Emma dialed.

“Hello?” a cheerful, but slightly frazzled, voice answered. 

“Hi, Ms. Potts? This is Emma. Steve and Bucky’s… umm��” Emma trailed off. What was she anyway? Girlfriend, partner, lady friend? Emma added that to the mental list of discussion topics for when she got home. Meanwhile, she sounded like an idiot. 

“Oh, Emma!” Pepper chirped, saving her from further fumbling. “Thanks for calling me back.” 

“Of course. I don’t know what Steve told you but I’m just looking for entry level jobs at a few galleries around Brooklyn right now.” 

“Mhmm. Yeah, he mentioned - ohGodnotagain - sorry, can you hold on a minute Emma?”

Emma didn’t even get out a “yes” before she heard Pepper yelling “Morgan H. Stark!” followed by the sound of a crash in the background. There was a moment of hushed scolding and then a child crying and whining unintelligibly. 

Pepper came back to the phone with a long sigh. “Sorry about that. Every time I turn my back Morgan is taking a screwdriver to something trying to see how it’s insides work.” 

Emma bit back a laugh, “What was it this time?”

“The roomba. She’s only five but I swear she’s just a miniature version of her father.” 

“Sounds like you have your hands full.”

“And then some. Now, about the job. It’s not too far away, still in Brooklyn, it’s a nonprofit gallery where they feature up and coming artists who need help getting some exposure. We need a gallery assistant to start as soon as possible.” 

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m on the board of directors there. When Steve gave me your resume I hugged him. The timing is perfect and I think you’d be a great fit.”

“What’s the name of the gallery? Maybe I’ve already applied.”

“The Hideaway. We haven’t listed the job yet though.” 

Emma swallowed roughly. She knew of the gallery in one of Brooklyn’s trendier, more affluent neighborhoods. It was known for being the starting place for many well known modern artists. “Pepper, really I’m just looking to get my foot in the door to gain experience. I appreciate the offer but…”

“But what? You can get experience anywhere, come do it with us. How about this, let me stop by the guys apartment tomorrow and we can look at the portfolio of artists we have right now. Give you an idea of what we’re about? If you don’t want the job it’s fine, but at least take a look. I’ll bring brunch?”

Emma shook her head, she was going to wring Steve Roger’s neck for this. “Okay, I’ll take a look.” 

“Great! I’ll come over tomorrow around ten thirty?”

“We’ll be home.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.” 

Emma hung up, torn between stunned and angry. She wasn’t taking a pity job at Steve’s friend’s gallery. He should have known her better than this. It was tempting to text him, vent some of her frustrations before she got home, but instead she tucked her phone away and went back out to the bustling bar where she could distract herself for a few hours.

It was a little past eleven when Emma finally dragged herself into the apartment. She was not going to miss the exhaustion of a ten hour shift bartending. Steve was perched on one end of the sofa, glasses slipping down his nose while he read a book. Bucky was laying across the other two seats, his head nestled on Steve’s lap. They looked so sleepy and sweet, she wanted to join them but she had a bone to pick first.

“You have some explaining to do.” Emma announced, setting her purse down on the breakfast bar. 

Steve looked back with wide eyes, pushing his glasses up a little, “What?” He sounded guilty too quickly. He knew. 

“Oh, I think you know. Let’s see if you can guess who called me at work tonight? It’s a friend of yours.” 

Steve gulped, “Sam?”

“Don’t play cute, Rogers. Why would you try to get me a pity job?” 

“I didn’t think-”

“Oh damn right you didn’t think. Do you know how that feels, Steve? I can get my own job! I know we’re cutting things close but I still have applications out there and if worse comes to worse I can call back one of the places that was interested and just take one of those until something better comes up.”

Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish, a torn expression on his face.

Bucky, who was woken by their tiff, cleared his throat. “We know you can, darlin’. And we’re gonna be proud as hell when you find the right job. No matter how long that takes. Don’t take some job you’ll hate just because it’s there, that’s why you quit Matty’s.”

Emma shook her head, “I can’t just take a job I’m not qualified for because you’re friends with one of the directors.” 

“You’re not.” Bucky countered, “Steve mentioned it to Pepper because she asked how you were doing when they were talking this morning. It was a friendly call, that’s all. Pepper asked for your resume to see if she could throw out some feelers in the community for you. We didn’t know she was going to offer you a job.” 

Deflating a little, Emma scrubbed at her face. Annoyance turning onto herself for biting Steve’s head off. “I’m sorry Steve,” she mumbled “I’m an asshole.” 

Steve gave her a wry smile, knowing all too well the chagrin of putting his foot in his mouth. “Hear that, Buck?” he poked Bucky in the side, “I’m not the asshole this time.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “You’re always the asshole, punk.” 

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“God help us all.” 

xxXxx

Pepper arrived the next morning with arms weighed down by a large leather tote on one arm and take out bags on the other. “I didn’t know what to get so I got everything.” she huffed out, setting her stuff down on the living room table. 

Bucky was sprawled out on the sofa watching yet another episode of How It’s Made because “Did you see it Steve? Who would have thought it was all in one tube like that?” He had been hooked on the show for months and Steve didn’t have the heart to make him pick something else. It reminded him of Bucky before the war, always so curious and eager to learn. Bucky did have the decency to turn off the TV and slide up so he was mostly sitting, making room for Steve and Emma while Pepper set up. Steve popped out from his studio and started rifling through boxes of take out before Pepper could even set them down on the table. 

“Thank you so much for bringing all this.” Emma told her, trying to play hostess since the guys were lost in the array of breakfast foods.

Pepper swatted Bucky’s hand away from a box of frittata, “Mine,” she practically hissed at him before turning to Emma with a smile, “No problem! I’m glad you were willing to at least look at the portfolio from The Hideaway.”

Brunch was a mostly quiet affair. The food was plentiful and delicious, Pepper having impeccable taste in restaurants, as usual. Between bites of eggs benedict and maple pecan french toast, Steve and Bucky got updates from Pepper on a few things going on with the training program at the Avengers Compound. Steve huffed when she mentioned him coming out to speak to the new trainees. He still wasn't convinced they would want to hear from him since he no longer wore the mantle of Captain America; regardless of how many times Bucky told him that it’s a lifetime title, like being President. Emma agreed with Bucky but Steve forced a change in topics before she could do more than chime in with a “he’s right”. 

Steve offered to clean up the disaster on the living room table so Pepper and Emma could go over the portfolio binder for the gallery. Not wanting to be a distraction, Bucky politely escaped to the bedroom. Forty five minutes later Emma had to admit she was impressed. More than impressed, really. The Hideaway was the exact type of gallery she wanted to be a part of. Pepper gushed about the current team and how lucky they were to have such a tight knit group. It was a dream job but Emma was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“You don’t have to decide anything today. I can hold off posting the job publicly until Monday.” Pepper offered. 

Emma considered it for a minute, still unsure. “I really am tempted. It’s an amazing opportunity.” 

“You would be such a perfect fit for the team. I can see you thriving there.” 

“Me too but, Pepper I gotta be honest; would you be offering me this job if my application came through with the swarm of others?” 

“It would depend.” Pepper was direct, “If it came along with other equally educated and experienced people, then yes. And then for sure the interview would have sealed it. If it had come over with a batch of people more qualified and well suited, then possibly not.”

“Thank you for that.” Emma was relieved by the honesty in Pepper’s answer, “I’ll think about it and let you know by tomorrow night.” 

“Perfect.” Pepper smiled widely like she already knew it was a done deal. Emma thought it was too but she really needed to weigh things out before she jumped in with both feet.

After Pepper headed home, Emma joined Bucky in bed where he was reading a new copy of National Geographic. She figured that she might as well be comfortable while she made her mental pro and con list. Steve joined them after a little while, snuggling his way in between the two of them. 

“Have you decided then?” Steve asked Emma, throwing an arm around her waist.

Emma groaned, “Yes and no.”

“You want to take it, don’t you?”

“Yeah, so badly. But...”

“It seems too good to be true?” Bucky butted in.

“Yeah, it does. It’s the perfect opportunity. Great work environment, paid vacation and sick days, benefits, and holy shit pay bump.” 

“I seem to remember you stressing over something else that seemed too good to be true a few months ago.” Steve teased.

Bucky nodded along in agreement, “And look how well this turned out.” 

“I love you.” Emma kissed Bucky and then Steve in turn. “I think I’m going to take it. But,”

“No buts!” Steve exclaimed.

Emma rolled her eyes and continued unphased, “But, I want you to seriously consider giving a few talks at the compound. You would be such a good example for these kids, Steve.” 

“What’s the point? Who’s going to listen to the guy that can’t raise his voice without risking an asthma attack? These kids are training to work with the Avengers, with some of the best mentors on the planet. They’ll be fine without listening to the ramblings of a retired old man.” 

“Oh sweetheart no.” Emma wrapped herself around Steve, pulling him close so she could run her fingers through his hair and litter kisses across his face. “You are so much more than your body. Your mind is one in a million Steve, and those kids would be damned lucky to hear anything you have to say.”

Bucky shifted himself over to curl around Steve’s other side, sandwiching him between them. “Erskine didn’t pick you for your body.” Bucky reminded him gently. 

“What would I even say?” Steve relented.

“That would be entirely up to you. Just think about it, okay?” Emma pleaded.

Steve nodded in silent agreement. Thinking about it and actually doing it were two very different things. If he could actually think of something to say to a room full of twenty year olds then maybe he’d come around. 

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder​ @remilupin22​ @supraveng​ @hiddles-rose​

If anyone wants added or removed please lmk!

[nakey-cats-take-bathsss]

Life As We Know It 

Clarke and Bellamy have nothing in common except mutual hatred for each other and a shared love of their Goddaughter Madi. When the loss of their best friends forces them to move in together and raise Madi as their own, they'll have to come to terms with their relationship and the fallout of Lincoln and Octavia's death.

It may just take a few exploded diapers, pounds of applesauce and 5000 re-watches of Little Orphan Annie for them to figure out they don't hate each other so much after all.

Based loosely off the romantic comedy of the same name

Completed! 

*Ch. 1 posted below + AO3 Link* 

Prologue 

February 2nd, 2019

“What you want to do is capture the essence of his expression. It’s all in the eyes!” Clarke instructed, gesturing to the model in the middle of the room. She took in her favorite view, Friday afternoon charcoal sketch class. The class was aimed at high schoolers, most of whom had dreams of going to art school. They were an enthusiastic bunch, she loved affirming their talent and watching them follow their dreams.

Lost in her musings of high school talent, Clarke didn’t notice Harper standing in the doorway. She took a step into the room and held up Clarke’s phone. Clarke usually didn’t keep it on her while she taught but Harper looked panicked as she pointed to it wildly.

“You guys are doing great! I just have to check up on something real quick” Clarke assured as she took off her smock and followed Harper into the hallway.

“Sorry I normally wouldn’t interrupt you but your phone has been going off like crazy, it’s an unknown number.”

Clarke nodded and quickly took the phone from Harper, just as the phone began ringing again. Confused, Clarke answered and a tinny voice replied, “Arkadia Memorial Hospital, is this Clarke Griffin?”

A pit of dread immediately formed in Clarke’s stomach as she made her way to her office. Her hands were shaking now as her mind ran through all the possibilities of why they could be calling her. The operator paused and redirected her to another line. The dread continued to grow for Clarke until the phone reconnected and she confirmed her identity to a doctor. 

“You are listed as one of the emergency contacts for Lincoln and Octavia Blake, I’m sorry to inform you that there’s been an accident. Is it possible for you to come to the hospital?” A nasal voice asked.

At the word accident, Clarke’s mind whited out and her ears began ringing. Moving on autopilot she grabbed her keys and ran out of the school, forgetting her class entirely.

 She had met Lincoln on her first week of art school. As the two oldest people in their freshman lecture, they became fast friends. Neither of them had any family to speak of, so they kind of formed one together. They supported each other during their starving artist years, their first ugly pieces and celebrated their small victories in a cramped apartment that Clarke’s dad had left her in his will. Clarke had never had siblings, but Lincoln was the closest thing to a brother she had ever known.

He was gruff but kind and the best sculptor she had ever met. His sculpting is what had brought Octavia into their lives. Back when they were fresh out of school and doing shitty gallery shows in the bad part of town, a girl with long brown hair who wore funky sweaters would come to every exhibition to stare intently at Lincoln’s art. She came every week without fail, to every gallery that Lincoln’s sculptures were shown at. Lincoln used to watch her from afar and light up whenever he saw her looking at his work. Eventually, the week before Lincoln’s sculptures hit it big, Clarke convinced him to go and talk to her. The rest is history.

Clarke had never seen two people who complimented one another as well as Lincoln and Octavia, they were truly soulmates. Octavia with her bright smile and long limbs quickly became a staple in their lives. Much like Lincoln, she was a little rough around the edges but she loved fiercely with her whole heart. She never really questioned Clarke, just accepted her as Lincoln’s sister and loved her as such. It seemed logical of course when their daughter Madi was born that Clarke would be her Godmother. 

She reached Arkadia Memorial in record time and ran as fast as she could to the emergency department. When she reached the waiting room she skid to a halt, in front of her was none other than Octavia’s brother Bellamy Blake folded over in a chair wearing a worn Arkadia Fire Department sweatshirt and sporting red rimmed eyes.

    April 11, 2015

“Maybe I should just cancel…” Clarke held the phone between her shoulder and ear as she washed her paintbrushes in the sink.

 “You’ve been single for 3 years and  he just moved here, it's the perfect time for you both to start over.”

“I’m going to give you a code word…if I text you a fireball emoji he’s trying to murder me and you need to come save me,” she said seriously, drying the brushes and carefully placing them back into a chipped mug. 

She readjusted the phone and grabbed a rag to wipe down the paint splattered tables.

“You won’t need a code word...you’re being ridiculous, I've met Bellamy. He's exactly the opposite of that oily soft boy who must not be named, it'll be a nice change.” laughter cutting into Lincoln’s fake exasperation.

 “You can never be too careful…he might be  a psycho murderer.” Clark continued, "But you're right about Finn, he was a greaseball." 

 “Clarke. Bellamy’s a little rough around the edges but he’s great. Plus it'll be nice for you guys to get to know each other before the wedding." 

 “The maid of honor and the best man, tale as old as time."

 "True as it can be." Lincoln continued, the smile evident in his voice, "I think you guys are really well suited."  

 "I'll take your word on this but if he kills me I'll haunt you from beyond the grave.”

 “I’m hanging up. Try to be positive about this.”

Logically, Clarke knew that Lincoln was right and that she needed to start putting herself back out there. Her life had been pretty boring since her best friend had met the love of his life and moved out of their apartment. Her cat shockingly doesn’t make for a sparkling conversationalist.

Since Lincoln moved out and Finn had turned out to be a dick, she had thrown herself into work.

And she was now the proud owner of a small art studio and school. Initially, it had been difficult and sad but after a small feature from a popular art blogger, it seemed that she was finally getting her footing. The small studio had grown immensely in the past year and she was able to bring in her childhood friend Harper as a co-teacher.

Clarke finished wiping the tables and examined herself in the mirror by the door. She would need a shower before she met this tall dark and handsome mystery man. She looked like she had been hit with an acrylic paint tornado. 

On her drive home she listened to her favorite motivational podcast, hoping the affirmation would bring her some confidence for the rest of the night.

As time crawled closer to the date, her excitement grew. It had been a long time since she had gotten dressed up for someone else. After a lot of trial and error she finally decided on her favorite red bodycon, a nice pair of black heels and hoop earrings. She curled her hair into loose waves and perched on her couch to wait out her date.

An hour later, Clarke's optimism was quickly dying down. He was already late. Over an hour late. Fidgeting and checking the clock again, she shifted her dress down her legs and tapped her foot. She was starting to get annoyed, restless and hungry. She considered the Babybell cheeses in her fridge and wondered whether eating one would really matter in the long run. Right as she was about to head to the fridge, there was a loud revving outside and her phone pinged with a text from an unknown number,

 “Hey it’s Bellamy, I’m here.”

Rolling her eyes at the fact that he didn’t even bother to come to the door. Clarke gathered her purse, took a deep breath and headed out.

She was met by two things, a very hot man and a very large motorcycle. 

“I’m not really dressed for a that,” Clarke mumbled as she took in the sleek black bike and the messy haired man in ripped black jeans and frayed olive-green shirt. Dammit, Lincoln was right...he looked nothing like Finn. He was tall, dark, handsome and his arms were deliciously large. 

“Hold on tight, promise I won’t read too far into it if you cop a feel” he winked at her, arms flexing as he fished a helmet out of the seat

“I said I’m not really dressed for this, I don’t know if my leg will get over it," she replied, irritably crossing her arms over her chest. 

His eyes flitted down to her boobs before he snorted, “Don’t be scared babe I gotcha.”

“I can drive us," she insisted, moving her hands to her hips. 

“C'mon baby, live a little," he groaned, pulling the helmet off his head fully. 

“Either I drive, or I go back inside,” she tapped her foot. 

“We can just go back inside and get to it, if that’s what you really want Princess…” Bellamy winked and dismounted the motorcycle, turning to gesture toward the cars lined down the street.

“I’m not a princess,” Clarke argued while fishing through her purse for her keys.

“If the shoe fits,” Bellamy was about to smirk until Clarke clicked the lock on her car and the lights went up on the smallest car he had ever seen. “There’s no way I can’t fit in it that,” he mumbled gesturing at the mini cooper.

Bellamy looked between Clarke and the car in exasperation, “Like I said…I can drive or you can leave” she said with her hands on her hips. He sighed, looked at the car and then back at her before climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door.

“Where do you want to go?” He asked, adjusting his messy hair in the rearview mirror. 

“Well where did you make a reservation?” Clarke arched an eyebrow, she could feel her temples beginning to throb.

“I figured we would just go with the flow,” he said irritably, adjusting the collar of his jacket. 

“I know a place, it’s owned by a friend of mine and Lincoln’s from art sch-“ right as Clarke was about to finish, Bellamy’s phone began to blare a cheesy Pitbull song.

“Why don’t you get that, I’ll just wait,” she rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at his phone. The song paused and then began ringing again. 

“No it’s okay give it a sec and it’ll go to voicemail”

“I insist go ahead”

With a pained expression on his face, Bellamy answered the phone, "Heyyyyyy what’s up?” he glanced at Clarke while making affirmative noises, “Yeah how about I stop by around 10-“ he looked at Clarke again, “actually make that 9:30”

“SERIOUSLY” she yelled as he hung up

“What?! It was a sick friend!” he answered defensively, throwing his hands in the air. 

"Right, a 'sick friend'," she mocked, rolling her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. 

"Yes. They umm very ill and need assistance," 

"I would LOVE to know what illness can only be cured by your PENIS," she yelled, she could feel her face beginning to heat up. 

"Oh my god chill the fuck out!" he yelled back, turning his body fully to face her. 

“We don’t have to do this…I know it means a lot to Lincoln and Octavia but you don’t seem to care since you answered a booty call in front of me,”

“I can't believe Octavia said you were cool, suburbia has gotten to her. You’re literally the most uptight person I've ever met,” He smirked

“GET OUT OF MY SMART CAR” Clarke yelled, jumping out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Bellamy followed and hopped on his motorcycle without saying goodbye.

***

After a hot shower to wash away the terrible night, she put on her comfiest PJs and curled up onto the couch with a glass of wine. Sinking into the pillows, she grabbed her phone to call Lincoln. He answered on the first ring.

“I take it your date didn’t go well.” Lincoln sighed, the disappointment evident in his voice.

 “Linc…we didn’t leave my street.”  

 “Did you even give him a chance? Behind the motorcycle he really is a good dude,”

 “HE ANSWERED A BOOTY CALL IN FRONT OF ME!!"  

 “Ugh damn it...Octavia said he had changed. I swear I didn't know."  

“I’m sorry Linc, I know you wanted it to work out but it’s not really salvageable,” Clarke sighed, knowing how much it meant to Lincoln for her to get along with Octavia’s family. Especially since the wedding was coming up soon. 

 “You guys didn’t click. It’s fine. Are you going to be fine for the wedding?"

 “We can share breathing space for the wedding but I’d prefer to never speak to him directly ever again,”

 “Sorry about your night…can’t help but feel a little responsible”. 

“It’s not your fault Bellamy thinks his penis is the best thing since sliced bread. I love you bud. You meant well and that's what matters. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, there's a glass of wine with my name on it,” Clarke hung up the phone and sighed deeply. It stung to know that she had let Lincoln down even if Bellamy was a total asshat.

Clarke closed her eyes and savored her sip of wine, dating sucked and she would honestly prefer to just die alone in peace.

Her phone pinged and much to her surprise it was from Bellamy, “Look…I don’t like you (and you obviously don't like me) but I love Lincoln and my sister so I think we should just ignore each other from now on,” Unfortunately, he was right…they were basically family and she was going to have to see his stupid handsome face at all the time. “Deal”  Clarke replied.  

 February 2nd, 2019

Clarke approached Bellamy, his head was in his hands and he looked like he had been crying. He had balled up the sleeves of his sweatshirt and used them to wipe his eyes. 

"They won't tell me anything and I've been here for an hour," he murmured, his voice was ragged and cracked at the end of the sentence.  

"I'm sorry, I was teaching I didn't check my phone," she answered quietly, not really sure why she was apologizing. She couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. 

"You didn't miss much, I think I scared off a few nurses," he admitted and something about his expression made Clarke want to reach out and touch his hair. She refrained, shoving her hand in her pocket instead. 

"The waiting is somehow the worst part," she mumbled, not quite meeting his gaze. 

Just as Bellamy was about to answer, a solemn faced doctor approached them both, “Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake?”

They both nodded, and Bellamy stood to stand behind Clarke, sure to maintain a healthy level of distance. She wrung her hands together and shifted from side to side. The doctor's expression was unreadable and it was making her stomach turn. Bellamy was nervously tapping his fingers against his leg and the sound of his skin hitting the denim was starting to grate on her. 

“Lincoln and Octavia were rear ended on the highway by an 18 wheeler. It was a very serious accident.” The doctor grimaced, gesturing for them both to take a seat. The pit in Bellamy's stomach grew as we took a seat on the bench next to Clarke. Their legs were squished together and she reached out, carefully placing her hand on his knee. His skin tingled, this was the first time Clarke had touched him non-violently in years and it felt strange but he placed his hand over hers. Whether he liked it or not, she was the only person who understood how he felt right now.  

"So when can we see them?" Clarke asked, voice shaking.  

The doctor, set his clipboard down on the bench beside him and leaned forward. "Their injuries were very severe, they were both in surgery for several hours and had the best possible care. We truly did the best that we could. But unfortunately, with accidents like this, it's a lot of pain and stress on the body. In the case of Lincoln and Octavia, their bodies just couldn’t handle the damage. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, but we lost them." 

Clarke crumpled, chest heaving and ears ringing. Bellamy wrapped an arm around her uncertainly, he felt like he was frozen. It didn't feel real. It wasn't possible. Bile rose in his throat and a wave of nausea washed over him. Octavia was dead. 

“Their daughter…they have a daughter, she’s one. Is she okay?” Clarke said suddenly, whipping out of Bellamy's grip. Tears filled his eyes as panic set in, he hadn't considered that Madi could have been in the car with them. 

It was only then that they noticed a police officer standing to the right of the doctor. He was equally solemn faced and took a seat beside the doctor. 

The police officer spoke quietly, “Madi is fine. She was in the care of a minor at the time of the accident and has been released to DCFS. We will look into you both being able to see her tomorrow.”

Bellamy let out a sigh of relief as a complex set of emotions washed over him. Grief for his young, vibrant sister and her strong, caring husband, relief that Madi was alive and overwhelming sadness for the parents that she would never know. Shocked that somehow he was the last Blake standing. He placed his hand over Clarke’s on his shoulder, he might not like her but she’s all he had in this mess.

[archadianskies]

Of all the days to forget to bring an umbrella, it had to be this one. The heavens seemed to have waited right until he stepped off the bus to open up and drown him in a deluge and now Simon’s trying to make a mad dash to the end of the street. Just as the lights turn green, of course, so he now has to wait for another set of lights to change before he can cross.

“-gallery at four, ready for the opening at seven.” The rain stops overhead, and the most beautiful man he’s ever seen stands beside him, sharing his umbrella over Simon. 

He flashes him a brief smile before continuing with his phone conversation. “No no, no, Chloe you really don’t need to do that you’ve been wonderful and you’ve already done so much.” A bright laugh. “Listen, you’ve already managed to convince Elijah to attend that’s a modern day miracle right there.”

Simon can only gawp at him, can only take in his light brown skin with its cinnamon dusting of freckles, right there over the bridge of his nose, and his stylish trenchcoat with the collar popped and a scarf wrapped casually around his neck. Dressed properly for the weather, and prepared for the rain unlike the poor sod currently sharing his Louis Vuitton umbrella.

“I’m on my way to the gallery right now, just caught up in some heavy rain.” He continues, and for once Simon actually wishes the lights wouldn’t change, that he could stay right here under an umbrella that could pay his rent with a man that’s probably a runway model. “I’ll grab us coffees, is North there too? And Josh? Oh, what, dad’s already there?” Another bright laugh. “Of course he won’t miss an opportunity to meddle with the setup. Alright, I’ll see you guys soon, thanks Chloe.”

He hangs up and pockets his phone, glancing at Simon to offer a grin. “Man these lights take forever to change or what?”

“Oh, uh, yeah- they do I guess?” Simon stammers, feeling and certainly looking like an idiot. “Thanks for um, for sharing your umbrella.”

“No problem.” He smiles and that’s when Simon really gets a good look at his face, discovering the perfect man does in fact have mismatched blue and green eyes. “Where are you headed?”

“Just trying to get to the post office to pick up a package.” Simon points across the street. “Thought I’d make it without an umbrella today but Detroit had other plans I guess.”

“Cafe I’m headed to is just down that way, how about we keep going together?” He wonders how someone wins the genetic lottery like this, how two humans make someone so handsome and then let him loose in the world with those mismatched eyes and those freckles and that smile.

“Sure.”

“Oh you-” He reaches over, and for a brief moment Simon gets a whiff of expensive cologne. “- didn’t press the button.”

Ah. That’s why the lights hadn’t changed in forever. “Of course I didn’t.” Simon sighs, equal parts frustrated and embarrassed. It takes only a few seconds for the pedestrian light to turn green, and he takes care to keep his stride at the same speed as his good Samaritan. They continue down the street, the rain pelting down so noisily Simon can barely hear himself think.

“This is the cafe.” The stranger gestures ahead at a trendy little place called 'Jericho' tucked in a nook. He presses the umbrella into Simon’s hand, their fingers tangling briefly as Simon maneuvres to get a better grip. “I’m getting coffee for a few friends so you go on ahead. Come back here after you’ve got your package from the post office.”

“Are you sure?” Simon stands there dumbly, wondering if Mr Perfect understands he’s just handed Simon something he could literally run off with and sell.

“I’m sure.” He waves his hand dismissively. “Take your time, there’s a queue here anyway.”

“O-ok?” He does as he’s told, he holds onto the Louis Vuitton umbrella and makes his way just a little further down to the post office. He signs for the box and he thanks his twin brother for shopping online and helping fate to line up this little meeting with Mr Perfect that he may sort of possibly probably will gush about on Twitter.

When he returns to Jericho the handsome owner of the umbrella is standing at the counter waiting for the coffees. He smiles at Simon and waves him over.

“Mission accomplished?”

“Mission accomplished.” Simon can’t help his dopey little grin as he stands beside him and points at the box tucked under one arm.

“Order for Markus?” The barista holds out a tray of coffees. “Two more coming, hold tight.”

Markus, his name is Markus, Simon tucks the information away almost giddily.

“I’ll walk you back to the bus stop.” Markus offers with a soft smile. “Wouldn’t want you almost drowning in this weather.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“But I want to.” Markus grins. “Besides, I’m in no rush.”

“Your coffees will go cold.”

“My friends are getting them for free, they have no say in this matter.” He says it so deadpan Simon fails to snort back a laugh. “I didn’t know what you liked, but this place does a mean hazelnut soy latte.” Right on cue, because the universe writes fanfic apparently as Simon discovers, the barista places the last two coffee orders on the bench and Markus hands one to him. “Thought you might want something to warm you up.”

“Is this your first day here on earth as a mortal, do you know humans aren’t this nice to each other so randomly?” Simon teases, and Markus laughs brightly.

“Man, you saw through me so quickly! My leaders won’t be too happy I’ve blown my cover.”

“First you rescue a human from the rain and then you lend him adequate cover against the elements and then you buy him a hot beverage- humans don’t really do that, ‘Markus’ or whatever your real name is.” He continues, his cheeks aching from continuing to grin like an idiot.

“I just thought I better help that cute boy out.” His expression changes, turns into something playful and smouldering and Simon wonders if he just has GAY written on his forehead for the world to see. He must have stayed in stunned silence a moment too long, because Markus takes a step back and his entire demeanour changes.

“Hey man, listen, I’m sorry, I must have read the situation wrong-”

“You’re cute.” Simon blurts, his cheeks rosy red. “You’re really cute, you’re so cute you really can’t call me cute because of how cute you are. You’re totally using that word wrong.”

“Yeah?” Markus challenges, cocking a brow, confidence back in his body language.

“Absolutely.” He manages to share in Markus’ laughter, trying to shove down the feeling of utter mortification at his own behaviour.

“You doin’ anything tonight?” He asks him so casually Simon’s head spins trying to catch up. “I’ve got an exhibit opening at the Abraham Kamski memorial gallery in town.”

“You’re an artist.” Not a question, because of course Mr Perfect with the Louis Vuitton umbrella and the Burberry scarf is an artist.

“I am.” He offers him his hand. “Markus Manfred.”

“Markus Manfred ?” Simon echoes in disbelief even as his hand encloses his and gives it a firm shake.

“The one and only.” Markus rubs his thumb slowly over Simon’s. “And you are?”

“Simon.”

“So Simon, can I have your number so I can send you the event details?” He asks so smoothly Simon figures if the man wanted to start a revolution, if the man asked him to follow him to the ends of the earth he’d say yes right then and there.

“Where did you download how to be so suave?” Simon huffs, pretending to be indignant as he hands Markus his phone. “What secret corner of the internet taught you to be so smooth?”

“I’m an android, all of it was just programmed into me.” Markus shrugs casually as he sends a message to his phone using Simon’s. “More human than human.”

“Oh great, a robot uprising -just what we need.”

“Uprising? No, we’re just trying to live our lives and integrate as best as possible.” He takes a sip from one of the coffees, but keeps his mismatched eyes on Simon the whole time. “Including flirting with cute boys and saving them from the rain.”

“You’re utterly ridiculous.”

“I try my best.”

They walk back to the bus stop, coffees in a sturdy bag hanging off the crook of Markus’ arm and umbrella securely held over them. Simon sips at his hazelnut latte and yes Markus is right, it tastes amazing; nutty and sweet and creamy. He wonders why the universe is in such a good mood today, that it arranged all this so that their paths crossed. When they reach the stop, they barely wait a minute or two before the bus pulls up. Much to Simon's dismay, since he honestly could've spent many more hours standing beside Markus Manfred, huddled under an umbrella together.

“I’ll see you at seven, Simon?” Markus grins, something hopeful and playful all at once. Simon feels his heart skip a beat, his cheeks flushing as he smiles in return.

“I'll be there at seven, Markus.”

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

Centuries

A/N: Welcome back to Tim's disaster, AKA we don't post for months and then get inspiration for one story before dropping off the face of the Earth again! we hope you enjoy this one, though we know it's not everyone's cup of tea, so we'll be skipping the taglist except for those who specifically asked to be tagged!

Warnings: Moceit (Morality/Deceit), Sympathetic Deceit, Discussions about Death

Delta didn't quite understand what happened when he walked out of the shop and ran into a man with barrettes in his hair and a huge smile on his face. He fumbled his new journals and the man immediately rushed over to help him. "Oh, are you okay? You seemed somewhat distracted," he said with a grin.

"I'm...fine," Delta said. Something about this man drew Delta closer. Made him want to know what this new person was like.

"My name's Patton," the man said, tweaking his glasses and sticking his hand out to shake.

"...Delta," Delta said, shaking Patton's hand uncertainly. "I'm sorry, have we met before?"

The man laughed, and his smile turned mysterious. "I don't think I've ever met you before, Delta. But you do remind me of a friend."

"Oh," Delta said, frowning. He didn't know what to do with this information. He could have sworn he had met Patton somewhere before.

Patton messed with his hair a bit, taking out some of the barrettes and putting them back in different places. "This might seem out of the blue, but...do you want to get some coffee or something?" he asked.

Delta was taken aback, but something inside him was begging him to say yes. "Sure," Delta said. "I can give you my number?"

"That works!" Patton said agreeably.

They swapped numbers and went their separate ways. Delta had to get to class and Patton had to go to work. But Delta couldn't get Patton off of his mind.

When they went to lunch, they immediately hit it off. Patton was funny, and charming, and always seemed to know the exact right thing to say to make Delta laugh. They agreed to meet again. And again. And again. Soon enough they were going on dates at least once a week, and no matter how stressed Delta was, being with Patton always gave him a certain sense of peace.

When one night, they went out into the middle of a field an hour away from Patton's place to stargaze, Patton shifted uncomfortably. Delta frowned. He had never seen Patton nervous or uncomfortable before. "You okay, Pat?" he asked.

"Yeah," Patton laughed weakly, pulling out his phone. "I just need to tell you something, and I know you probably won't believe me."

"What is it?" Delta asked, stomach flipping uncomfortably. He sincerely hoped that Patton wasn't going to break up with him.

Patton opened the gallery on his phone, and Delta looked at Patton's phone curiously. It was filled with selfies the both of them had taken, once Patton had convinced Delta he didn't mind the birthmark covering half of his face. "This is us, right?" Patton said, pointing to the first picture they had taken together.

"Well, duh," Delta said. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well...this," Patton said, sliding his finger to the left, revealing a photo of a polaroid, with Patton looking exactly the same age as he did in this picture, and an older man with Delta's exact birthmark on his face, "Is also us."

Delta stared in wonder at the phone, taking it gingerly in his hands and observing the photo. Patton slid his finger to the left again and a photo that looked fresh out of the sixties was played. "So is this," Patton said. He swiped again and Delta's jaw dropped as he saw yet another man who looked like him, but in a uniform from World War Two. Patton didn't look a single day older. "And this," Patton said.

"Wh...what is this?" he asked, looking at Patton.

Patton had a slightly bitter smile as he said, "Delta, I'm immortal. And every twenty to thirty years after you die in one life, I fall in love with you in another."

Delta's mind was reeling. He couldn't comprehend that. "I...what? For how long?"

Patton looked up at the stars as he said, "Centuries."

Delta couldn't quite believe it. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea of being alive that long, let alone falling in love with him...more than once. "Why me?" Delta asked.

Patton shrugged. "I'm not sure. But I always recognize you. You always have that birthmark, or a scar, and you look just close enough to your previous self that I know it's you. I've been waiting thirty years to see you again. That polaroid? Was taken the day you died last time."

Delta swallowed, hard. He couldn't believe this. He was shaking, and tears were starting to fall from his eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

Patton smiled. "You always find out sooner or later, I figured I'd cut right to the chase this time."

Delta felt something flicker in the back of his mind, a memory that didn't necessarily feel like his, and yet he knew that was the case. "We danced that night," Delta said, frowning and looking at Patton. "I had been sick for a long time, and I used the last of my strength to slow dance with you one last time."

Patton's eyes lit up and grew glassy, and he smiled, completely genuine and yet melancholy too. "Yeah, we did. You went by Deceit a lot back then. It was a nickname that just...stuck."

Another memory struck Delta, and his eyes widened in realization. "You said you'd see me in about thirty years," he said in complete shock and awe. "You waited for me."

"Yeah, I did, Dee. I love you, I always have," Patton said, tears falling. "Even if you haven't always loved me the same."

Delta's heart felt like it might burst, and he moved towards Patton before he could think, kissing him like mad.

Patton's eyes were shocked for a split second before they fluttered closed, and he kissed back. They stayed intertwined even after they broke the kiss, until Delta felt strange. Without warning, his whole body started to glow a bright yellow, and he jumped. "What...?!" he asked.

Patton stared at him, wide-eyed. 'I don't believe it," he breathed. "I mean, I always hoped, but I never thought it would happen!"

"What? You never thought what would happen?!" Delta asked.

"It looks like some of my immortality finally rubbed off on you!" Patton said, tears welling up in his eyes for an entirely different reason. "You're immortal, Delta!"

Delta blinked in shock. Memories were flooding his brain all at once, from past lives spent with Patton, all the way back to the sixteen-hundreds at least, and probably farther. He looked at Patton, and Patton stared back. Delta grinned, and then he laughed, and then he might have cried, just a bit. "My love," he said, "How long have you been trying to break that curse?"

Patton's grin split in two. "Centuries, Dee. If not millenia."

Delta shook his head and kissed Patton again. "Well, thank you. For being able to put up with me not knowing who you were all those years."

Patton hugged Delta tight and said, "You were so close in the eighties, I thought I almost had you. But I didn't mind waiting all this time. After all, it meant that I would get to fall in love with you all over again and again. I grew to look forward to it."

Delta chuckled, shook his head, and looked up at Patton from below his eyelashes. "Now that we're together again, though..." he trailed off. "Are you willing to spend an eternity with me?"

Patton smiled and kissed Delta softly, before parting just enough to murmur an, "Always, my dear."

Taglist: @pendragonqueen09 @rose-gold-roman @do-your-socks-have-holes-in-them @kaioanxiety

[livsoulsecrets]

Nicotino College AU - Chapter 21: Mom

Masterpost

Previous Chapter

Summary: Niccòlo attends the music school and is friends with Filippo, who started helping at the photography course after getting famous for his lgbtq+ activism as a photographer and youtuber. Marti is studying journalism in the same university and is convinced by Filippo to attend the photography course mister Boccia and Filippo himself are offering. Marti turns out to be terrible at it and needs Nico’s help to make a perfect final project to get approved.

June 19th

📱-> Marti

📱-> Marti’s Tweet

📱-> Marti’s Instagram post

📱-> Nico’s Instagram post

20:39

Marti would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit nervous about this dinner. He was being honest when he told his mom he was happy for her, but it was still a completely new situation that he didn’t know how to handle. His mother had never had anyone after the divorce, so even though he really liked Lorenzo, Marti was still afraid his mom would get hurt again.

He stopped in front of the door of his mom’s apartment and knocked on it. His mom quickly opened it, pulling him into a hug.

— Hey, mom, I don’t think I can breathe. — Anna laughed against Marti’s neck and pulled away a bit.

— Always the dramatic. — She joked back, caressing his check before taking him to the couch. — Lorenzo will be here at anytime. — The woman put a strand of hair behind her ear and her voice trembled a bit, but Marti acted as if he didn’t notice.

— That is great, mom. Like I told you, I already like him. — Anna took Marti’s hand in hers and smiled.

— I know I told you this before as well, but thank you again. You know you are the most important person in my life, right? — Anna repeated the same words she said to Marti on the day he came out to her, making the boy smile at the memories.

— I know it, mom, of course I do. You deserve to be happy with somebody that treats you the way you deserve to be treated. — Marti knew his mom was afraid of being any less of the amazing mother she had always been simply for doing something for herself, but he refused to let her believe in it for even a second. — And you know you are a great mother, right? You have always been.

— Always? I don’t know if I believe in that, Martino. — The way her voice shook broke Marti’s heart.

— You should, especially since my opinion is the only one that really counts here, am I right? — Anna laughed a bit, shaking her head at him.

— Well, I can’t fight this logic of yours. — She gave in, some tears escaping her eyes.

— Good. I won’t let you think you are being selfish for doing what you want and living for yourself. I want you to be happy, mom.

— I know. And I am, I promise you that. It means the world to me you see things this way. — Anna kisses him in the cheek and Marti smiles at her, holding her hand tight. — But that is enough about me, tell me about you. What have you been doing lately? How is college? — Anna asks, wiping the tears away, sitting up to pay better attention to Marti.

— Well, it has been crazy, but I actually like my course despite all the sleep hours it makes me lose. And, well, I have been taking those photography classes, the ones Filo was helping with. — Anna was listening attentively, like she always did, and Martino couldn’t help but wonder how he got so lucky to have her in his life.

— Oh, I remember it, he was really excited about it.

— Tell me about it, he convinced me to attend it. If I’m going to be honest, it was a real disaster. Mister Boccia is a great guy, but I’m pretty sure he considered murdering me after all the times I failed his lessons. — Anna let out a laugh, giving him a side look that should be of disapproval. — Anyway, I’m working on my final project now. It has to be perfect to get me an amazing grade that will make me pass this subject. The good thing about all of this is that now I know better than to listen to Filippo about, well, anything. — Marti joked and Anna playfully pushed his shoulder, shaking her head in disfavor. She had always liked Filippo a lot, being almost protective of him most of the time.

Marti couldn’t blame her, since Filo made a colossal effort to cause a good impression on her. At first, Martino thought he was just doing it to be annoying and throw at Marti’s face the fact Anna adored him. It took Marti a while to realize how Filo’s relationship to his own mother was distant to make sense of his friend’s actions.

Filippo’s mom loved him, of course, but she was never really around. She called sometimes and cared about him, yet Marti couldn’t say she was present. The little he knew about her came from the few times Filo shared about his childhood, about her missing school meetings, his photography expositions, even some of his birthdays. Filo’s mom was too cold at times, so being around Anna, who was so caring, that always put such an effort at being there for Marti, seemed to help Filippo heal from some of his bad experiences when it came to parents.

— Speaking of Filo, you are not gonna believe who he is dating! — Marti grinned, excited to share the news with his mom in first hand.

— Oh, I know it already. I was just as surprised as you, trust me. But I do think Elia and Filo are a good match, I’m always telling those two they need to take things more seriously, after all.

— What? How do you know it? — Marti asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

— Filo told me over the phone some days ago, he sounded very happy. — Of course he did, Marti thought, shaking his head with laughter.

— Damn it, I really thought I would beat him with the news. — Marti threw himself at the couch, dramatically.

— And what about you? — Anna questioned, suggestively raising an eyebrow at him.

— I can assure you I’m not dating Filo nor Elia, if that is what you meant. — Marti answered, hoping that would distract his mom, but Anna was irreducible.

— You know it isn’t.

— Yeah, I do. — Marti looked away from his mom, staring at the turned off TV as if it was the most interesting thing in the living room. — Well, it is a bit of complicated. I don’t really know what it is right now.

— Okay, is it good though? — Anna asked, making Marti’s head snap back in her direction to find his mom’s chin resting in her hand, like she usually does when she is trying to get a particular difficult answer from Marti.

— It is really, really good. — Marti smiled involuntary at the mere thought of Nico, which didn’t go unnoticed by Anna.

— Well, that is all I need to know, then. — She said, reaching out with her hand to fix a bit of the hair that was falling in his eyes. — Actually, I kind of need to know his name, maybe… Even see a picture if that is not asking too much. — Marti laughed at his mom’s excitement, wide eyed. — Oh, don’t look at me like this. You usually run from my questions about your love life, you can’t blame me from trying to get more details when I finally have the opportunity!

— I would never, mom. — Marti held his hands up in surrender before turning to his mom, a bit more serious. — His name is Nico. Well, it is Niccòlo, actually, but everybody calls him Nico. — He let the part of Marti calling him Ni out because it was a bit too personal, which was also totally out of brand for Martino. — He studies music at the same university I go to, is friends with Filippo and is helping me with my final project.

— Ow, an artist? — Anna smiled at him, impressed.

— Yeah, I was surprised too. — Marti wasn’t completely joking and his mother could tell.

— Well, I really like his name. It is beautiful. Just like him, I assume? — Anna wondered, tilting her head a bit and Marti took it as a cue to take his phone out, giving up on trying to argue his way out of this. He opened his photo gallery and stumbled over the last photo he had taken with Nico.

They were at a Burger King close to the park Nico had taken him this afternoon. Despite the creepy appearance that made Marti feel like he was in a horror movie, the place turned out to be really pleasing. Nico had told him that was his thanks for what Marti had done in the day before, staying by his side the whole day when he was feeling down.

Nico hadn’t told him what caused his mood change, but Marti was okay with it. He could tell there was something Niccòlo wanted him to know, but the boy clearly wasn’t ready to share yet, so he wouldn’t push. All that mattered is that Nico was doing better today. That is what he told Nico, making sure he understood there was no need of saying thanks for what Marti had done.

Nico still stood by his point, so Marti just rolled his eyes and pulled him up from the bench, kissing him softly. He offered they went out to get some food in the Burger King he saw some blocks before.

They had taken the picture right after they finished eating, Nico being the one who pulled him his phone from his hands, insisting he had to register the day he convinced Martino to wear the “ridiculous crowns”. Marti never regretted saying anything as much as he regretted those two words, especially because he knew Nico would never let go of it.

Still, it wasn’t Marti’s fault that his brain melted every time Nico looked at him with such a playful smile, like he did when they got the crowns from an employee. Nico seemed to know that, so it didn’t take much more convincing for Martino to agree to the selfie. As a revenge, he once again did the hand thing Nico claimed to hate, but secretly found adorable, like Marti very well knew.

— Wow, he really is beautiful. — Anna complimented, a smile emerging in her face. — And you both look really happy.

— Thank you, mom. I think we are.

— You think?

— Yeah, well, Nico wasn’t doing very well yesterday, but he seemed to be a lot better today. I guess I just hate not being able to help when somebody I care about is not okay. There was not much I could do besides just being there. But the things is… That we are really good together. And, I don’t know, I think we’re off to a good start anyway.

— Oh, I’m glad he is better and that you two are being good for each other. — Anna was very serious when she turned to face Marti, her voice firm. — And, you know what, Marti? In my experience, sometimes, just being there is everything you need to do. It is more than enough to make things a bit more bearable. Especially if we are talking about somebody as kind as you. — Anna’s words made Marti speechless, he didn’t know what to say after that, so he just kissed his mom’s hand in a silent gesture of gratitude.

The doorbell rang at that very moment, announcing Lorenzo had arrived. Anna quickly got up, fixing her dress.

— We will talk more about Nico latter, don’t even try to run, okay? And about this final project of yours. — Anna said, leaving no room for discussion with her cheerful smile, heading to the door right after.

Marti was okay with it. His mom deserved all the answers she wanted, after all.

Next Chapter