#she'd look snazzy

[canisalbus]

Fanart of Ludovica and her unnamed girlfriend! I based her girlfriend off a Gordon Setter, one of my favourite dog breeds!

Also, cowboy Vasco and Ludovica

.

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Twenty

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

3.4K

Warnings: smut, p in v, kidnapping

Series Masterlist

His arm was over her waist as light filled the bedroom. It was weird, wasn't it? The apartment had no sort of protection, but the two of them had never felt safer.

She moved closer to him and pressed a kiss to his bare chest. In the months since Oscar had died, Lando hadn't been back to the house. Any work he'd had to do had been done from the comfort of the apartment. That was when Lando was working.

The money he'd gotten from selling his club should have gone back into the Norris Family, but Lando kept it. He kept it for them, kept it to renovate the apartment. The decorations were much the same in every room but the bedroom. No, they'd made the bedroom their own. They'd bought a new bed, a new wardrobe, put new carpeting down and got new carpets.

Lando let out a groan when she removed his arm from her waist. "Baby," he grumbled, eyes still shut as he turned towards her. "Stay." He tried to wrap his arms around her again, but she quickly removed herself from his hold.

She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, easing his frown. "I'll be back in a moment, Lan," she whispered and kissed his lips. His slight moustache and the hair decorating his chin tickled her skin as she kissed him. But that was nothing compared to how it felt when his face was buried between her thighs.

Wrapped up in her fluffy robe, she walked out of the bedroom and through the apartment, heading for the kitchen. Lando hadn't redecorated the kitchen. He'd fixed the sink, gotten a new microwave, oven and coffee machine.

The hand towels she had picked out. They were cute with little green flowers that matched the rest of the kitchen. They went with the theme even more once she'd bought all of the plants. Lando didn't have a green thumb, yet.

She made herself a coffee and leaned against the counter as she waited for her mug to fill. Life had been bliss in the few months since they'd left the Norris house. There wasn't that constant fear that came with being surrounded by dangerous men and weaponry.

She'd never ask Lando to leave the Norris Family. It was what he'd been groomed to do his entire life; she didn't know what he knew anything outside of the Norris Family. But he'd been so much happier since he'd stopped working.

Releasing a sigh, she grabbed her coffee mug and heading back towards the bedroom.

Lando was sitting up when she walked in. He stretched his arms up and released a yawn from his lips. "I've got four missed calls from Max," he mumbled and rubbed his hand over his face.

She leaned against him and sipped her coffee. "Are you gonna see him before you go to visit your sister?" She asked as Lando ran his hands through her hair. It was so damn soothing that it had her shutting her eyes.

"I should," he mumbled and kissed the top of her hand. His arm settled around her, holding her against him. "I'm gonna," he said with a nod. "Yeah, I'm gonna."

They got themselves ready for the day. Lando didn't get dressed into his jeans. He got dressed into a pair of jeans and a white wife beater, snazzy jacket on top. He looked damn good with a chain around his neck and round sunglasses covering his eyes. Mouth wateringly good, actually.

She pulled him in and raked her hand through his hair, pushing it back. "I love it when you're not in suits," she whispered and kissed him.

His hands were on her thighs as he dropped her back onto the bed. He climbed on top of her, crawled between her legs. Immediately, she wrapped her legs around him, holding him against her. "Lan," she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her. "C'mon, you gotta get going."

"I don't," he mumbled and kissed down her neck.

But she pushed him. "Well, I do," she replied, smile playing on her lips. As she walked around the bedroom and got herself ready for the day, Lando trailed after her. He zipped up her skirt with teasing touches and stood behind her as she sat at her vanity, brushing through her hair.

Wrapping his arm around her, Lando walked her out of the apartment. "I'll drop you off," he said and took her down to the parking garage. She kissed him as the elevator took them down to the parking garage.

As Lando drove her to work, he kept his hand on her thigh. The windows were down and the music was loud. It was pure bliss.

She kissed him before she climbed out of the car. "I'll see you later," she said and backed out of the car before she could change her mind and return home with him.

Lando watched as she walked towards her office. He didn't know if the sway of her hips was intentional or not, but she was all his. All his.

Once she'd disappeared, Lando drove out of the car park. He didn't know what to do with his left hand now that she wasn't in his car, now that he couldn't put his hand on her thigh. She'd been gone for all of two seconds and he already missed her.

God, he was pathetic, and he loved it.

He drove through the gates, to the Norris house. The pink, flowery air freshener swung from his mirror, a little piece of her in his car. He killed the engine and climbed out, keys jangling as he shoved them into his pocket.

Nothing could kill his good mood.

There was slight chaos in the Norris house, but he didn't know that. He didn't know that everything had fallen to shit without him to lead.

Pulling his sunglasses from his face, he knocked on the door of Max's office. "Come in!" Max shouted, his voice strained.

Lando strode in. As soon as he saw the mess of Max's office, his face dropped. "What the hell did you do?" He asked, hooking his sunglasses over the neck of his wife beater.

"It's been a fucking mess since you took off," he said as he searched through his mess of paperwork. "Debts haven't been collected and we haven't been able to pay off the police so they're no longer on our payroll!" He stressed and pushed his hand through his hair. It did little to sooth him.

"Relax," Lando said and sat in the seat opposite Max. "I'll get someone to collect the debts. Did you do that thing I asked?"

Max glared, but he gave a nod. "Down in the kitchen," he said and Lando stood up.

He clapped Max on the shoulder and walked out of the office. He didn't miss this place. It might have been where he grew up, but he didn't miss it. This wasn't his home. Home was wherever she was.

***

The candles on the table were lit and something was bubbling away on the stove. She'd never walked in to a scene like this before. "Lando?" She called, dropping her bag by the front door. "What the hell is this?"

He quickly left their shared bedroom, shutting the door before she could get a glimpse inside. "Hi, baby," he said and marched towards her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in and kissed her. "How was work?"

She looked towards the kitchen table. "What're you doing?" She asked, reaching up to gently tug at his curls. The moment she did, Lando let out a whine.

He pulled away, took her hand and pulled her towards the table. "Well, I thought we could have dinner before I go to Spain tomorrow," he said and pulled out a chair for her.

She didn't sit down immediately, not before throwing herself at him once again. Her lips touched every part of his face. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she said between kisses.

Lando gently sat her down. "Do you need any help with the cooking?" She asked when he returned to the stove. He checked his phone quickly and checked the spaghetti.

"I got it," he said and turned off the stove. He brought the spaghetti into the pan with what else he was cooking and added the sauce. "If it tastes like shit, I'll get us takeout," he promised and dished it up.

It wasn't the worst thing she'd ever eaten. There certainly was room for improvement, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Do you remember our conversation about getting a dog?" He asked her as he finished his dinner. It wasn't as good as he thought it was going to be. So much far Carlos's help.

She placed her fork down on her plate and grabbed her glass of water. "Uhm, I remember us saying that getting a dog was impractical until we know what's going on in our future," she answered.

Lando's expression dropped from his face. "Wait, really?" He asked and she nodded. "Well, shit. Shit, baby. I swear I remember that conversation ending different," he said, fiddling nervously with his fingers.

"Lando," she said gently, reaching across the table for his hand. "What did you do?"

She asked it so softly, so gently, that it had him standing up and walking over to their bedroom door. "I didn't want you here with no protection while I was in Spain," he explained with his hand on the door handle. "So, I had Max get us Bruiser."

"Bruiser?"

He pushed open the bedroom door and the dog running out.

Bruiser didn't much look like a guard dog. He didn't look like Bruiser. The Beagle came running out of the bedroom, a toy carrot held between his sharp teeth. His tail was wagging as he trotted up to Lando and sniffled him. Lando petted his head but Bruiser turned to investigate her.

"Hi," she said with a beaming smile as she let him sniff her hand. She turned that beaming smile to Lando as she scratched behind Bruiser's ears. "Oh, he's gorgeous, Lan," she said as his tail hit the table leg. "I love him!" She slipped onto the floor and Bruiser dropped his toy carrot in favour of licking her face. "You're such a lovely boy," she said to him. "Yes you are! Yes you are!"

Lando watched on. God, it was such a site. He'd been so worried, having Bruiser in the bedroom while they ate dinner. But she loved him, and that was all that mattered.

When she stood, Bruiser picked up his carrot toy and trotted after her. "You're the best," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think I'm gonna need to give you something for this."

His hands were on her back as she leaned closer and pressed her lips to his neck.

Lando pulled away from her. "Sorry, boy," he said as he walked past Bruiser. He blew out the candles on the table and filled Bruisers bowl. "You're gonna have to stay out here." He whistled and Bruiser walked over to him. "Go on boy, get in your bed," Lando said and Bruiser did just that.

Lando pulled her into the bedroom. He pushed the door shut behind her and immediately had her against it, his lips kissing down her neck. "I'm gonna miss you so much," he grumbled against her neck, his knee between he legs.

The noise she released was so damn desperate as she ever so slightly rocked her hips. Her hands travelled over his shoulders and up to his hair. Every time she tugged on his curls, it had him whining against her.

She pushed him away, pushed his hand enough that Lando fell back against the bed. Well, he could have stopped himself, he could have stayed standing up, but he didn't want to. As soon as the back of his legs touched the bed, he sat down and pulled her on top of him.

His grip on her was so damn tight as she kissed him. She held his face, help him still as her kisses barely touched his lips, teasing him. God, if she didn't stop soon...

She pulled away entirely and pulled her shirt over her head. Dropping it to the floor, she reached back and unclasped her bra. Fuck, he'd never get used to the site of that, the sight of her.

As soon as her bra was on the floor, he kissed down her chest. His teeth grazed her skin and he sucked a patchwork of bruises across her chest. "Love your tits," he mumbled with his eyes shut as he kissed down to her pebbled nipples.

Her back arched as Lando pulled them between his lips. "Oh fuck, Lan," she hissed, hips squirming as Lando paid each of her breasts special attention. He went from the left to the right and back again. Back and forth until she was using his curls to tug him away.

"I need you to fuck me," she whispered as she reached for his jeans. "Right fucking now."

Lando was only happy to oblige. He laid her down and pulled her skirt down her legs. There was no better site than this, than having her laid bare for him. If he could have, he would have had a picture of her like this, a painting of her commissioned to hang in his office. His gorgeous girl.

His touch was so gentle as he climbed on top of her. She wrapped her legs around him desperation clear, but Lando needed a moment. Just one moment with her before he railed her. He touched her, hands on her waist, thumb brushing over her skin. "You're so pretty, baby," he whispered, his expression so soft and affectionate as he looked at her.

"Gonna miss me while you're in Spain?" She whispered as she gazed into his eyes.

He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "So damn much, baby."

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, she pulled out his phone. "Well, we're just gonna have to do something so that you don't miss me so much." She unlocked his phone and opened the camera.

His eyes were sparkling as he sat back and snapped pictures of her, looking so pretty in their bed. In their bed, in their apartment, with their dog in the other room. His life was fucking perfect.

Tossing his phone to the side, he pulled off his shirt and dropped his jeans. Still in his underwear, she could see just how much his cock was straining against the material. He climbed back on top of her, this time grinding himself against her.

"Lan," she whined, trying to push down his underwear. "It isn't fair."

He just laughed and dropped kisses to her chest. "Hang on, baby," he whispered, hips still moving against her.

Finally, he pulled away. He stood up and there was an undeniable wet patch on his underwear. "You're fucking soaked, baby," he whispered as he looked at her, looked between her legs. What a fucking sight.

He pushed down his underwear and climbed on top of her. Gripping himself, he nudged his tip through her folds, caught her clit. Even just this had her gasping for more. "Please," she whispered again and again until he pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.

The feeling of him was indescribable. She squeezed her eyes shut, legs clamping around him, holding him against her. His hands were so gentle against her face as he pushed her hair behind her ear and dropped kisses to her face.

Sex had gone like this since they'd moved into the apartment. It was loving, as if it was going to be the last time. It wasn't the last time, and the both of them couldn't help but feel silly after. But they couldn't help it.

His hips gently rocked against her, pushing himself in further. He pulled back only slightly before pushing back in. At no moment was she not full of him.

With his face buried in her shoulder, he sped up. Every time she moaned, every time she pulsed around him, Lando groaned against her and sped up. His hand fell into her own, lacing his fingers between hers as he held them above her head.

She cried his name over and over and over again. But that soon turned into incoherent noises, her legs squeezing him even tighter. Lando grunted against her skin as he hips began snapping against her own.

The bed creaked and squeaked, the headboard hitting the wall. It was so damn close, but neither of them cared. Lando kept going as her whines and cries became more and more high pitched. That coil tightened until she snapped, sending her over the edge.

"Holy fuck," Lando choked out. His thrusts slowed as she squeezed him. "I..." He choked out something of his own, something she couldn't understand, before he came, hips stuttering. He tried to keep moving, tried to stuff himself inside of her, to keep her full of him, but exhaustion was dragging him under.

Chest heaving, he fell against her. Lando unlaced his fingers from her own and repeatedly gave her kisses. "My gorgeous baby," he whispered, breath coming out in short puffs.

***

Lando was in Spain.

He'd jetted off two days ago, and she missed him so damn much. Her evenings after work had been spent on the sofa, cuddling up with Bruiser.

"Your daddy is the best," she said to Bruiser as she scratched behind his ears. "I can't want for him to come home."

The empty apartment was filled with the sounds of Bruisers tail hitting the sofa. He was perfectly content to lay there with his carrot toy, his head against his owners thigh. (Max had found Bruiser at a rescue centre. His owners had died and that was how he found himself at the rescue centre. The moment Max laid eyes on the Beagle, he knew he was the one for Lando. Bruiser was just happy to have a home again).

Her fingers itched as she looked towards the window. The sun was setting, the sky painted orange. She turned towards Bruiser. "Should we go on a walk?"

Immediately, Bruiser was on his feet as she grabbed his lead. She clipped it to his collar, grabbed her keys, and left the apartment.

Bruiser led the way. He didn't pull against the lead during their walk, but he stayed in front of her, taking her down the streets and to the park. The park. In the few days since Lando had brought him home, Bruiser loved the park. He'd met other dogs, sniffed their butts and chased them around.

He loved the park, loved the pretty Collie that was apart of the dog walking group he and his mum sometimes saw.

But the dog park was empty when they arrived. Bruiser let out a whine, sitting there and looking around as his mum unclipped the lead. As soon as he was released, he went trotting off.

His friends had been there, he could tell by the scents left behind. He sniffed at the trees, at the lampposts, seeing which of his friends had been there. Polly the pretty Collie had been there, as had Perdy and Pongo. Tim the Dachshund and his Pug brother, Ollie. All of his friends had been there, and he had missed it.

Bruiser did a little more exploring. There was another dog he had never met, but she snapped her jaw and her owner pulled her away. Defeated, Bruiser turned and went to find his mum.

He picked up her scent, followed it to the bench he had left her sitting on. Her scent was strongest there, but she wasn't there. But it wasn't just her scent. There was something sour, something unfamiliar, starting at the bench and leading towards the park exit.

His mothers scent went in that direction, too. Bruiser let out a whine and followed her scent towards the park exit.

But when he got there, a white van sped off, taking her scent with it. Bruiser barked, but his mum didn't hop out of the van, didn't come back for him. He couldn't do anything but bark and howl until somebody found him.

a/n: I'M SO DAMN SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! buuut we're almost finished with this one. idk how this update was so big but i hope you guys like it!!

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[prismatica-the-strange]

Graveyard Flowers | A Few Stipulations

Warnings: 18+, horny Bj, death (obv), depression ment., no smut but lots of allusions to sex. Possibly ooc.

"Working" for Beetlejuice isn't exactly what Rosie envisioned, but things aren't always as bad as they seem.

Picrew

"So this is it," Beetlejuice motions to the office, "It ain't much, but the guys are pretty mellow, and I like to keep the atmosphere chill."

She gets a few waves which she awkwardly returns.

"And that brings me to the next order of business," He tugs on his lapels, "Your uniform."

"Uniform?"

"Gotta have one."

"Okay... do I get one of those snazzy yellow blazers or-" He cuts her off with a snap of his finger and she feels a gust of wind. When she looks down her eyes do wide, "Oh, no. No, no, no! Beej what the hell is this?"

(rough sketch)

"That's your uniform."

"This is barely lingerie!"

"Really extenuates your-" She slaps his hands away from her tits.

"I'm not wearing this!" She lifts her arm to try and cover herself.

"Uh, your contract says otherwise," He argues.

He pulls out the document and points to a part of the text she can't even read.

"Give me that," She tears it from his hand, squinting at it until he pulls out supernaturally strong magnifying glass, revealing a tiny illustration of the outfit she's currently wearing.

"See?" He gives her a lopsided grin, "But hey, if you're not feeling it, I can be flexible."

She feels the loose hem of her skirt tighten around her thighs, morphing into a stupidly short pencil silhouette.

"Are you kidding me?"

"You know? I might actually like this better," He palms her ass, suddenly behind her, and she spins around, slapping him.

"I want my clothes back."

"Can't do that," He shrugs, "Guess you're just gonna have to suck it up, buttercup-..."

He gulps when her glaring eyes light up and blood starts to weep from between her stitches.

"You're upset," He says, taking a step back, hands up in front of him, "Why don't we talk this out, I'm sure there's a compromise here."

He jumps when the blood forms and hardens into a straight razor in her hand.

The shrunken heads watch in shock as she strong arm's their boss.

"You want your clothes back?" He snaps his fingers, "There- well... kinda."

She looks down and she's in one of her comfy sweaters and a pair jeans from before she died.

He coughs, leaning back against a table, trying to casually cross his legs to hide his raging hard-on, "'S that better?"

She sighs and nods, the blade in her hand melting back to blood and flowing back into her wound.

"Good. Wouldn't want any little outbursts, now would we?"

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, "Just tell me what exactly you expect me to do."

He huffs a heavy sight of relief and pops up behind her, one arm slung around her shoulders, and adjusting his junk with the other hand.

"Nothin' much," He admits, "Tidy up here and there, take my calls, do coffee runs, stand there an' look pretty. Pretty standard fare."

"So..." She scowls to herself, "I'm your PA?"

"That a problem?"

"Well, it's not exactly how I pictured spending my afterlife."

"Aw, c'mon darlin' where's that smile?" His finger briefly catches her chin, "At least you're not in lock up anymore."

"I guess," She glances around the office.

She always thought once she died she'd get a little freedom in her existence, but this was worse than her job before she was murdered. She wonders for a moment if there was anyway to get a job haunting a bookstore or something.

"That's my girl," He steers her toward the one empty desk unaware of how that phrase would have her blushing if she could, "You can use my best buddy Bob's old desk, bless his soul- hah!"

His chest ignites in flame at his half-hearted sign of the cross and he quickly pulls away to put it out.

His goofy flailing makes her giggle and a wave of relief washes over him.

He would never- ever speak it into being, but he feels a weird sense of guilt over her death. He'd heard her try and call him that night, felt the urgency behind it, and it thrilled him, knowing his fleshie wanted to see him again, but when she didn't follow through he shrugged it off and went about his business.

Knowing she spent most of the last year in her particular torment makes his unbeating heart ache.

Uh oh...

"Sweetheart," He grunts, tapping her shoulder. She's fallen asleep at her desk with her head on her arms.

She looks incredible sweet and peaceful and... oddly unnerving. He still isn't quite used to her being dead so her still, unbreathing corpse gives him chills.

"Rosie-" He holds her forehead, tilting her head back, but he jumps back when her eyes open, already glowing, and she takes a swing at him with a spectral blade, "Whoa! Hey now!"

She flickers to the other side of the room, her fingers tentatively touching her throat.

It takes him a second but he remembers how her uncle did something similar when he killed her, "Didn't mean to freak ya. Not this time, at least. You fell asleep."

She blinks at him, "I don't know why I'm so tired."

"That'll be the PD's little safety assurance they made me add to your contract."

Her sleepy little confused face is way too cute for a cold-blooded killer.

"To keep you from going off and rampaging the livin' they're insisting you're partially sedated," He explains, "No where near when you were in deep lock-up, but enough to keep you from becoming a problem."

"Well, stop it!"

"Can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Cause if I do they'll put you back in deep freeze."

She runs her hand down her face with a sigh.

"Hey now," He's next to her with his arm slung around her shoulders again, "Don't be so down about it, we can get you a little cot, make it all cozy, whaddaya say?"

She slumps against him with a huff and he stiffens, "Yeah, whatever."

"But until then," He snaps his fingers and suddenly she's straddling lap at his desk chair, "You can always use me."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I'd like it better if you were wearing this," Another snap of his fingers and she's back in that 'uniform' as he so graciously called it, and his hands grip the back of her thighs, "That's more like it."

"Beej..."

He hasn't seen her this timid around him since the first time they decided to fuck back when she was alive, and he is all for it.

"Someone's horny," He teases in a sing-song voice, hands sliding up to knead the flesh of her ass. He cackles when she slaps him and tries to wiggle off him, "Careful how you move there, you'll get me all excited!"

"Pig!" She wrenches herself out of his grip, and when she looks at him again his nose has morphed into a pig snout.

"You love it," He snorts. She flicks his snout and when it pops back to normal he scrunches his nose a few times, "Rude."

She just scoffs and walks back to her desk, not bothering to argue about her clothes.

A win for him, that's for sure, but when she passes out an hour later, cheek pressed against the musty wood, he pulls a blanket out of nowhere and wraps it around her shoulders.

He's never seen a more ghost-like ghost.

For the past three weeks she's been practically haunting the office with her bad vibes. There's being dead and then there's acting like it, and she's been far too committed to the bit for his liking. She won't even snap at him for his risqué touches!

"Alright!" He hops off his desk where he's been watching her unenthusiastically talk to a potential client, "That's it, you're comin' on a job with me."

She somehow looks even less enthusiastic, "Two things Beej. One, if you think I'd ever let anyone else see me in this get up, you're delusional. And two, I can barely lift a phone I'm so tired, how the hell am I supposed to help you on a haunt?"

"Secondly, you're only sedated so you can't break out of the Netherworld, once you're out I can get rid of that. And first off, I've got a few options for ya," He slaps his hand on the desk and motions for her to stand, rolling his eyes and pulling her to her feet when she doesn't move, "If you could play along for just a few seconds that be great."

"Beej-"

"Shut it," He warns, pressing his finger to her lips, but his playful tone pulls a smile to her face.

"Fine," She chuckles, "What kind of 'options'?"

"So glad you asked. To start, we have an old classic," He snaps his fingers and she's back the vampire hunter costume she died in, "Next up we have this little number."

She's suddenly in a black corset and pants get up that's oddly practical for her new boss.

"And lastly," Another snap and she's sporting a black pinstriped, white powersuit not too unlike his.

"The first one," She says confidently and he pouts, "But..."

He perks up at that.

"But?"

"I would rather wear the second around here its, more practical," She fiddles with the hem of the blazer she's wearing, "You mind?"

"Well, if you insist," He's in front of her now, fingers making quick work of the buttons before pushing the fabric back to reveal the black lace bra he's put her in.

All the shrinkers, who have been trying very hard to ignore this whole exchange, all look over at the loud crack of her slapping him. It's probably the hardest she's ever slapped him and he immediately feels himself start to get hard.

"That is not what I meant, and you know it!" She hisses.

"Mmm... yeah alright," He groans. He changes her back into those tight leather pants and long coat, eyes still fixated on the swell of her breasts, almost like he's hypnotized by them.

"Hey," She grabs his chin and tilts his head up to look at her, "My eyes are up here."

"They sure are, gorgeous," He basically purrs, melting into her hand.

"God, you're pathetic," She scoffs and he almost topples over when she pulls her hand away, "What kind of job did you have in mind?"

"That's it, sweetheart," He murmurs in her ear, his ands holding her hips from behind, "Y'know you're actually pretty good at this."

"Would you shut it?" She snaps, "I'm trying to concentrate."

"Right, right..." He leans slightly closer and nips at her earlobe, making her jump.

The startle cause a a lightbulb down the hall to pop and one of the window panels she'd been frosting to crack.

"Did you just bite me?"

"Wh-who the hell are you?"

"Great," She huffs, "He can see us now. Happy?"

The three of them share a look and Beetlejuice rights himself and straightens his suit, "I'll take care of this, toots."

"What the hell did you just call me?"

(Smut continuation)

"And that's when the chandelier fell?"

Beej and Rosie are sat across the desk from Wolf, their clothes and hair still mussed from their earlier physical exertions.

"Yeah, something like that," Beetlejuice shrugs, trying not to grin too hard.

The detective pauses for a moment.

"On the ceiling?"

"She's a freak, this one," He chuckles and Ro doubles over in her chair to hide her face in her hands, "Took me by surprise too."

"Shut up, Beej!"

Wolf shakes his head slightly, "Hell of a way to die."

"Got a hell of a show."

"Beetlejuice!"

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

Cher (1946-) Sonny and Cher - vocals; solo Songs: "I Got You Babe," "Dark Lady" Defeated Opponents: Françoise Hardy Propaganda: "With an amazing voice, fantastic outfits, and multiple comebacks? yeah, Cher." "She looks like a goddess (she's appropriately nicknamed The Goddess of Pop) and I think she could serve in anything! Her outfits in the 70s are so snazzy. At the time, she had the most number-one singles of any female solo artist in US history. She is the only solo artist to date to have a number-one single on a Billboard chart in seven consecutive decades and she is an advocate for LGBT rights and HIV/AIDS prevention." "mama she IS a rich man! I’m sorry if you aren’t already voting for Cher I can’t help you"

Margo Guryan (1937-2021) solo Songs: "Sunday Mornin'," "Think of Rain" Defeated Opponents: Darlene Love Propaganda: "she made one totally brilliant psychedelic pop album that was way ahead of its time and still sounds fresh today, but left the industry not long after, as she refused to tour or make tv appearances, saying that having been married to a jazz musician she'd seen "too much – performing required an agent, and a manager and a lawyer and a booking person and... you got owned by these people – they told you where to go, how to look, how to dress, what to say, and I didn't want that! [...] I guess I had about enough 'daddy' when I was five, and I just didn't like being told what to do." her label quickly ceased promoting her album as a result. it's since become a cult favorite, with saint etienne and belle & sebastian among its fans, and songs she wrote have been recorded by astrud gilberto, julie london, cass elliot, harry belafonte, marie laforêt, and many others."

Visual Propaganda for Cher:

Visual Propaganda for Margo Guryan:

[cash-legacy]

⚲ Lakeview Library, Copperdale | 9:32 AM

There is a great deal of information one can access with the combination of an unmonitored personal laptop and a library card. Today, Aphrodite was making use of the latter.

She knew the body wasn't Valentine's, she was certain of it. But it had to be someone's body. And a recent someone.

So she hiked out to the library on foot. No car - and no license, either. She was working on it. Totally working on it. Just had more important priorities, like solving her brother's not-murder.

One thing you can find at libraries that's a bit harder to access at home - newspaper archives. Thousands of them. Aphrodite scrubbed through as many local papers as she could, as well as papers from other areas around the National Park, searching for reports of missing people.

The room was chilly, in the library's basement. The air was musty, and the shelves of archived books behind her gave off that pleasant old-paper smell. Aphrodite could have happily spent hours here, but today, she didn't need to.

"Bingo," Aphrodite said softly. "Hello, Not-Valentine."

Maurice Winn, disappeared from a camping trip with his friends the night Valentine "died." Similar height, similar hair, and strikingly similar features. This was her corpse. Had to be.

Aphrodite copied down his parents' address - or, parent's. Single mother, it seemed like. Edith Winn. They were out in the cove. Too far for Aphrodite to walk, and the bus route was awful. So, out came her phone.

Aphrodite: oi Aphrodite: feel like skipping class? Aphrodite: need a ride Aphrodite: will pay for gas Kareem: bet Kareem: wya Aphrodite: library Kareem: b there in 20

Kareem wasn't her friend, exactly. Aphrodite didn't have friends, and neither did he. He was too cool for them, and Aphrodite wasn't cool enough. But she was in the rare position of being a rich, unemployed High School dropout, which gave her a fair amount of disposable time and income. Both of which Kareem appreciated. He drove her, she paid, everyone was happy.

Today, however, the car Kareem drove up in was not his battered Gen 1 Oldsmobile, but something slick and fancy.

"Nice whip, dude!" Aphrodite called out from the library balcony, where she'd been waiting for him to arrive. It had taken him 23 minutes. Not 20. Betrayal on all sides. "Who'd you steal it from? My dad?"

"Go to hell. It's my brother's. Fairuz has a doctor's appointment right now, Inas took my car."

"How the fuck does a librarian afford a car like that?"

"You don't wanna know."

Aphrodite laughed, hopped over the balcony's edge, and made her way over to the snazzy vehicle.

"Where to this time?" Kareem asked, pushing the passenger side door open for her.

"LaSuli Point. In the Cove."

"What, we're not going to get ice cream?"

"We'll get ice cream afterwards. I've got shit to do."

"Since fucking when? You're sixteen and you have no job."

"I found a lead, Kareem."

"This again."

"I'm serious!" Aphrodite said, clambering out of the car. It was an uninspiring little house - barely more than a shack. Nice views, though. "It's a real lead. You'll see. He looks more like Valentine's corpse than Valentine does."

"What, whoever lives here?"

"You'll see!"

Aphrodite trotted up to the front door, and gave it a perfunctory knock, silently rehearsing her speech: Hello Ms. Winn, I know this sounds crazy but I think I know what happened to you son. Or maybe, Hello Ms. Winn, I'm here about your son. Do you know if-

"The door is unlocked," A woman called from within. "Come inside."

"Who the hell leaves their front door unlocked?" Aphrodite whispered to Kareem, before nudging her way inside. "Fucking weird."

"I'm staying outside. Have fun getting murdered."

"I'm in the back bedroom," The woman called out again. Her voice was strained.

Aphrodite tiptoed inside, and peered around. It was a tiny room, and clearly in the process of being packed up - boxes sat around, and the walls were starkly bare.

"Are you Ms. Winn?" Aphrodite asked.

"I am." The woman sat on the edge of the bed. Presumably, Maurice Winn's. "Who are you?"

"Uh-" All Aphrodite's nice, prepared speeches crumbled to pieces. "I'm Aphrodite. My brother was murdered? Except, he's not dead. And I think your son was the one who was murdered? It was the same day, and they look really similar - but I saw the body, and it looked like your kid, and I thought..." She trailed off, and cleared her throat. Nice going, Cash. Real slick. Need to work on that Charisma when you get home.

"I read some of the articles about your family," Edith said. She stood slowly, and straightened the covers on the bed. "I'm sorry for your loss. What can I do for you, Aphrodite?"

"Well-" Aphrodite paused. What could she do for her? She hadn't really thought this far ahead, frankly.

"I was wondering if you could tell me about the trip he was on? Where he was staying? The poster I found just said Granite Falls. Do you know where he was camping? Do you have any photos of him? So I can, uh... compare." Compare to what? The corpse that was buried in the Newcrest cemetery? Aphrodite was a lot of things, but she wasn't a grave robber.

"Of course." Edith led her back out of Maurice's room, and into the cramped little living area.

She pointed Aphrodite to a picture that sat atop a dresser. Maurice, transparently. He did indeed look remarkably similar to Valentine. His hair was different, darker. But he had the same sharp jaw and hooked nose. They could have been siblings.

"He and his boys were going up to the lake, in mid July. To celebrate... 'halfway through summer,' I think. Something like that."

"The lake." Aphrodite nodded. "How long were they there? Do you know anything about their itinerary?"

"Just that weekend. They were camping near the lake, the night he disappeared. Or they were supposed to be."

"Did he show any signs of distress, before he left?" Aphrodite had watched enough cop shows that she knew how this part went. Inevitably, she was going to discover that this was a red herring, and the real answer was elsewhere. Best to cover her bases. "Any conflict with his friends? Struggles at home?"

"No." The woman's face stilled, and then she frowned. "I'm sorry for your loss, young lady, but I'd appreciate it if you went on your way. I've answered all sorts of questions like this for the police already."

"I'm not police. I'm just trying to find out what happened to my brother."

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Edith glanced at Kareem, who stood waiting out the door. "Go home. Let me mourn my son in peace." And Aphrodite was swiftly bustled out the door.

[gloomyanadromous]

✍ - a memory of their mother

"Hiiiii babyyyy!"

Your MOM coos and punches your cheek, gushing about your uniform, your markedly improved grades, the notes she'd been receiving about your behaviour. Still terrible, of course - you weren't about to dance whenever some schmucks in uniform told you to - but the fact that you hadn't earned a bloody nose in weeks was an improvement worth celebrating to her.

You smile and lean into her touch, some lonely twisty part of you uncoiling at the attention from someone you'd missed.

"hi, mama..."

She calls you professional looking - snazzy. You hate the clothes they provided. You miss the ones they'd taken. You miss your guitar. You miss your own name. You've told her this already, both in person and in letters, but she just smooths down the creases in your shirt and consoles you, tells you to behave.

"It's just a little while longer, baby, and then you and me are gonna' get our own place! Just be patient."

You close your eyes and let her ruffle your hair, and you repeat the words to yourself.

[lea-andres]

*slides into your askbox* heyyyyy what roles do you think jewel would have in tmosth? more like team sapphire in general? 😋

🤩🤩🤩

Tangle should be a pilot purely because I want to make the Drowsy Chaperone "an aviatrix, today we would call them lesbians" joke. Plus, like Bean, I like the idea of giving her a role that's horrifying to imagine her doing.

Whisper should be something military perhaps? A general? Something with a title and a dress uniform. She'd look SO SNAZZY.

And I think Jewel should be a professor! Or at least something academic adjacent! Or an archaeologist if we want to reuse my Boom!Jewel variation, but TMoStH deserves unique ideas.

[xxanaduwrites]

DOWNFALL | a.b.

main hub of all important thangs

chapter 6

got your hands at the back of my soul and the more that i show you the more i'm afraid that you're gonna wake up and realize i'm not the one — paranoid, lauv

——

Butthead's snazzy shirt stared at me for an entire week.

After the superhero moves I pulled a few days ago with my sidekick — or maybe I was the sidekick and he was the main hero, considering how he was saving me the entire time — I got back to work an exhausted wreck.

Levi — wanting to throw Dax in the back dumper, as he so beautifully put it — needed a good gossip fix to make up for the pain he endured the entire time I was gone. Like a whole reporter on the scope, he barreled every question he could think of, while continuously going on about how fucking tiny the world was. How it was crazy the universe just threw us back together like that — that it was a sign.

Superstitious Jeans.

He also flipped the fuck out when he realized I was wearing Austin's shirt. Of course, his mind quickly went in the gutter, assuming we fucked around to which I immediatly denied. Even when I tried explaining the whole coffee shabackle, his smirk and knowing eyes that really knew absolutely nothing — didn't buy a word I said.

It was like I was talking to an entire brick wall.

"You can say whatever you want." He told me. "But I saw the way that hunk so smoothly caught my keys and then caught you. Y'all were staring at each other for a solid minute."

I wanted to throw myself on the floor, roll over, and dissolve into the floorboards.

Seeing where Levi's perspective on the matter lied, I was grateful Austin had texted me first when I was in the lot. Saved me the trouble of ever bringing it up to Jeans and giving that boy ideas. With my luck, Levi — being the wingman he loved to be — would totally take my phone when I wasn't looking, pretend to be me, and flirt his head off with Austin.

Would be better off if he didn't know I had his number.

That night, I locked up, went home, and peeled off his shirt. I still had no fucking clue what kind of cologne he laced his clothes with, but my god that shit smelled good. The most devastating part was tossing it in the wash.

A part of me wished I never did so while another was happy I could finally breathe proper air that wasn't drugged up in his scent.

Now, it just sat there, perfectly pressed and hung up on the doorknob of my closet. Like some sort of blaring billboard, it flashed its lights at me every single time I walked in my room. The worst was when I sat on my bed. I couldn't focus on my book, my laptop, or even the television — which were my favorite down time activities — with that thing just sitting there, staring straight into my soul.

I felt like I was going mad.

Being that today was Sunday, the bookstore was closed and I was off from work — meaning I had nothing to do. Syd always went to the gym or surfing on the weekends. It alternated depending on her mood, the weather, and if she had a competition coming up. Something I was glad she did without me, considering me and any form of physical activity in an athletic-esce form did not go together at all. Let alone get along.

Definitely not all chummy.

My noodle arms could never keep up.

Apparently she decided on the gym today, bringing Brock along for the ride — which hinted that she'd be gone for longer than usual. That meant, I was home alone, but not really alone — chilling with my not-so-good pal, Austin's shirt.

I needed out.

Bad.

I came to this conclusion when I found myself reading over a particular page ten times over, not grasping a single word of my book. And I was sitting in the living room — for fucks sake! Nowhere near Butthead's shirt. It was then that I figured I really needed to get out of the house — even though I really didn't want to.

As if this wasn't already bad enough, this man not only weaseled his way into my two favorite places, but also managed to infiltrate his presence into my bedroom where my bed — who was my main squeeze and boyfriend — lived — without ever stepping foot inside! Now, I guessed it was the whole fucking apartment.

Fan-fucking-tastic!

Getting kicked out of all my homes. Now where would I live?

With a huff, I grabbed my keys and tossed my book in my bag before heading out for the day. Where? I didn't know. But I was sure it would be one of the two places I usually went to. The bookstore was obviously a no for today. So that left me with Sunshine Spot.

I could only hope for the best.

Popping in my earbuds, I began my descent down the familiar stairs and out the door of my complex. When I stepped outside I almost went blind from how sunny it was. I immediately fished for my sunglasses, placing them on the bridge of my nose.

Sometimes I wondered if I was a vampire from how sensitive I always got. Or maybe it was just my introverted side making up more excuses to not leave the house. Either way, I definitely pulled off the 'fuck off, leave me alone' look with my earbuds in and my shades on. Not having to listen or look anyone in the eye sounded perfect to me.

And it was.

Until I got to my destination.

But to be fair, it was completely my own fault.

My dumbass was actually looking at her cellular device, trying to change the song I was listening to — but of course being the old piece of shit it was, the thing decided to lag on me right as I was walking through the door. Robotically, I messed around with every app and button known to man trying to fix it, but it just kept playing this one song that reminded me way too much of my awkward teenage years.

Somehow I managed to get to my favorite booth in the joint without even looking up. Sliding into the seat backwards, my back hit the wall and my knees shot up to my chest like a fetus — sideways in the booth.

I couldn't sit like a whole grown human — at all.

When I went to turn and slam the side of my phone on the table to wake it up, I almost died right on the spot when I realized someone was sitting across from me in my peripheral vision. Shutting my eyes for a moment, I tried to brace myself for what I would come face to face with —whoever was on the other side. Trying to figure out some sort of lame excuse that wouldn't make me look like a complete weirdo for sliding right into a booth that was already rightfully claimed.

Taking a breath and finally opening my eyes, I shut them just as fast when I captured the image of the person in front of me. Either I was losing my mind, or it was in fact him who was sitting in the same damn booth as me.

Saying him, I meant Austin with all of his butt related names.

You've got to be shitting me right now.

Why was this always happening to me?

Was he fucking following me or something?

Did his shirt manifest his presence right in front of me? —saying, 'Ha! Jokes on you! You can't escape me no matter how hard ya try!'

Reopening my eyes, I ripped my headphones out of my ears and absolutely lost it. "You!" I pointed at him as if I was blaming him for something — which I mentally was.

"Me?" he questioned and apprehensively confirmed, bracing a hand against his solid chest that was clad in a simple white t-shirt— clearly not understanding where I was going with this.

My mouth decided to work on its own accord and not cooperate with my brain. "What the hell are you doing here?" I grilled him immediately.

For a moment, he just stared at me blankly, seeming equally as confused but also slightly amused with the way his lips curled up. "Nice to see you too," he mused. Biting his lip, he looked down at the table. "Um." I followed his gaze, noting a small black moleskine journal that was sandwiched between his hands. One was inside the book, serving as a bookmark for whatever page I assumed he was writing on while the other was braced on top with a pen firmly tucked in between his fingers. It looked like I had totally interrupted his journaling— or journalism, if you will. "I should be asking you the same thing." He said, tilting his head as he studied me.

"Right," I sighed, readying myself for my long awaited explanation. "I didn't realize someone else was sitting here. Sorry —I'll just go."

I was in the process of awkwardly maneuvering myself out of the booth — finally rearranging my legs to be in a normal seating position when his husky voice spoke up. "No," he stopped me. "I mean, you can stay if you want. I'm not waiting on anyone anyways. Unless you're waiting on someone yourself."

"I'm not. Thanks, but —I don't want to disturb you, if you're working," I declined his offer, already feeling like a total intruder. Even though he unknowingly intruded on my favorite spot to sit when it came to avoiding people and having my own personal space to breathe.

"It's fine," he reiterated, not giving up for some reason unknown to me. "I was just finishing up anyways." To prove his point, he opened his journal back up, tucking his pen inside before closing it.

Looking around, I quickly assessed the available tables, only to come up short with a place to sit. The lunch hour was already hopping, meaning the joint was in fact packed and there was nowhere to sit that wouldn't have me up in somebody else's grill — listening in on their conversations. If I had to hear one more lady discuss the latest hot gossip about her neighbor's affair like a true Soap Opera while I was trying to read my book — I was gonna lose it.

"Sure," I gave in, unslinging my tote from my shoulder and shoving my phone and headphones inside.

It wouldn't kill me to sit with him for a little bit.

Right?

"So..." he began, starting some sort of conversation. "Did you end up at that nightclub?"

Well that was one way to get my attention.

"I'm sorry?" I questioned, totally not catching on to what he was going on about. Suddenly feeling extremely nervous, I braced my hands together on the table, hoping he wouldn't notice that I was shaking as I messed around with the rings on my fingers."What nightclub?"

He cupped his hand over his chin, displaying his ring cladded fingers that bounced against the light from the lamp hanging above us. Today he wore a few different silver bands that I found myself staring at. "The one your friend behind the counter said he was turning your bookstore into." He explained shyly.

"Oh!" He remembered that? "No." I shook my head, laughing lightly at the memory. "He didn't — thankfully."

"Good," he said. " It would've been a shame if he'd done it. I'd never get a chance to go back there and scan the collection if a dance floor and bar replaced all the shelves."

Picturing Levi running an entire nightclub that had a Saturday Night Fever Vibe with a John Trovolta-esce dance floor that lit up and changed colors, simultaneously made me want to laugh and cry. Laugh because I knew Marlon would absolutely be beside himself, and cry because I would lose it if Levi fucked up my displays and let people destroy the vintage portion of the collection where our rare books could be found. If I could take in all those babies I would.

Trying my hardest not to make a smart ass comment, I agreed with him."That would be devastating."

Which then left me to immediately overthink it.

Devastating in the sense of the bookstore being destroyed or devastating that he'd never get to see it?

Oh god.

What if he thought I was flirting with him — thinking I'd be saddened not to see him again?

"Maybe I could just shove all the books in a back closet and hide in there while he parties," I tried to save myself. "Problem solved."

"As long as it's against a wall, so you could live up to your name," he replied, reminding me of the 'Wall Girl' title he gave me.

"Very funny," I threw out sarcastically, rolling my eyes as a busboy placed two glasses on the table — filling them up from a pitcher of water. "And I'd have to lock up my toothpick umbrellas in a safe. Wouldn't want you ruining my pretty drinks."

"Oh?" He perked up with that one, intrigue flooding in his curious blue eyes. "So I'm invited to this theoretical nightclub?"

Oh. My. God.

"Um." My cheeks heated at the implication, making it impossible for me to conjure up some sort of response. He had me cornered. "I-I wouldn't be surprised if Levi invited you." Volly saved. His brows confirmed to me that he wasn't sure who I was talking about. "Levi is my co-worker. The dude behind the desk," I confirmed to which he nodded in understanding once it all clicked.

"Hi. Welcome to Sunshine Spot. I'm Sherry, and I'll be your server today." My favorite lady came over to take our order, whisking us out of our conversation. Flicking through her order pad, she didn't realize I was sitting right in front of her. "What can I get —" She immediately trailed off once she caught my eye, surprise washing over her features. "My girl! I should've known you'd be sitting here. My intuition must've served me right and felt your presence."

"Hey Sher," I greeted her back, my nerves subsiding as my gratitude rose the moment she appeared. It must've totally gone over her head that I was right here since I normally always sat alone.

She smiled back at me, before she glanced over at Austin, giving him a hard stare. "Who are you?" She asked him, her whole demeanor changing as she took him in.

"Austin," he introduced himself, a picture perfect smile gracing his face — totally disregarding Sher's judging stare in an attempt to butter her the fuck up. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."

She looked even more taken aback, baffled that he could say such a thing to her — completely forgetting they talked the other day.

Good.

Humble him.

"Sher." I got her attention. "You spoke to him the other day on the phone." She still looked lost, so I elaborated. "You thought I was being kidnapped while I was ordering coffees for Syd's meeting."

"Oh!" She clapped her hands, piecing it together. "That was you?" He nodded. "Good. Now I can keep my eye on you. If you even try anything with my girl here I will not hesitate to —"

"Alrighty then!" I cut her off, reaching for a menu and shoving it across the table for Austin to look at. "Shall we order?"

"Mhm," Austin mumbled as he flipped a page, searching it over.

God, this was fucking awkward.

Don't get me wrong, I loved Sher's spirit to death, but this was not the time for threats especially when there was nothing between me and Austin. We weren't even close enough to be considered friends.

"The usual for you, dear?" Sher asked, making it blatantly obvious of my regular appearances here.

"Yep," I confirmed, popping the p in exaggeration while passing the menu back to her.

Taking it from me, she turned to Austin with absolutely no cheer presence. "And for you?" She was already flexing her hand for the menu like she couldn't be bothered.

"Um. Just a coffee," He said simply. "Black. No milk or sugar, please."

"God." She put the hand with the pen over her heart dramatically. "Is that it?

We both nodded.

"Interesting." She paused for a moment. "Do you kids ever eat or just feed off of coffee like it's a drug?" She inquired, but didn't wait for us to respond. "I'm sending over fries and gravy for you two so I know you're not starving yourselves, and I can sleep peacefully tonight." She decided, jotting that last order down before walking away with no argument.

"I take it that you just ordered a coffee too? Nothing else?" he weighed, clearly reading between the lines.

"Just the drug," I firmly stated. "Certified junkie."

A stupid toothy grin threw up all over his face at my words, his eyes crinkling as they tightened in hysterics. I couldn't help but join him as he laughed his ass off right in front of me. It was the first time I ever saw him completely lose it like that, and it was such a fascinating sight to see. Especially since he always tended to hide it in front me.

Swiping a hand over his face to compose himself, he unknowingly pushed a curl out of the expanse of his hair.

"Makes the two of us," he said once he could get the words out without cracking up again.

I couldn't help but stare at the blonde lock casually lingering against his forehead like Danny Zuko. I supposed it really was a Grease kind of day. "Hm," I teased. "I'm the top junkie. Let's see if you fit the qualifications for certification."

Somehow, I managed to cough up the confidence to look him in the eye as he said, "Wow. Big words for the bookstore girl." He held his hands up in defense. "I see how it is."

Bookstore girl.

"What?" I inquired, absolutely flushed. "Scared you're gonna lose to the reigning champ?"

Thankfully a server came over with our drinks, and his gaze was trained on our coffees right in front of us. "Nope. I'm ready for the challenge." He licked his lips as he anticipated the taste of the coffee on his tongue, preparing himself for our little game.

Oh fuck.

"Of course you ordered black coffee," I spat out, not thinking before I spoke — far too focused on his perfectly sculpted cherry lips.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He leaned over the table, sizing me up.

"I don't know," I sighed, messing around with the straw stabbed into the lid on my drink. . "Reminds me of my basic ex-bosses at the publisher company. Boring bitter drinks, boring bitter men," I recalled, the memories of fucking up drink orders at my internship permanently etched into my head.

"So you think I'm boring and bitter?" He scoffed, clearly offended.

Shit.

Fuck.

"No!" I almost yelled, my heart racing out of my chest as I tried to think of a good way to maneuver out of the grave I just dug myself in. "I mean — not that you are boring or bitter. Well, I — I get milk and creamer in my drink, but that doesn't make me cool or peachy. Just the opposite. Trust me, I'm known to be very boring and bland. It's my middle —"

"Rianne!" He called, a smile etching onto his face as he cut me off. "I'm only joking with you." It was then that I felt his thumb dig into the side of my hand where my thumb and pointer finger met as if he was trying to bring me back to reality.

Oh.

Hello?

The realization dawned over me that in the middle of my excitement, I must have reached across the table and trapped his hand under my own out of reflex to console him in some fashion.

My fingers immediately tensed at the contact.

"Right," I gulped. A wave of electricity shooting from my fingertips all the way up to my arms jolted me awake, and I pulled back sheepishly.

Wrapping my hands around my drink, I tried to cool my hand down that felt awfully hot. I took a sip, tasting straight up sugar and creamer with the perfect amount of bitterness as a means to distract myself from the obvious.

I watched as he did just the same, using his other hand — that was never locked in my hold — to pick up his drink and take a sip. My eyes traveled to his other hand that was still braced on the table — still and unmoving. I thought I imagined it when his hand flexed for just a moment before he pulled it away.

"Hm," he hummed in satisfaction, averting my attention back to his face. "Pretty good," he complimented the coffee before taking another sip.

"The best," I hyped it up, almost halfway done with my own cup.

"I now understand why you come here so much," he commented in between sips before going back to our previous conversation. "So you used to work for a publishing company?"

"Interned," I clarified. "Not my finest moment, but hey — guess it just wasn't for me."

"Do you like the bookstore?"

He wanted to know if I liked working at the bookstore.

He wanted to know something about me.

"Yeah, I love it," I answered quickly, before I could over-think it any longer. Taking one last big sip, I almost slammed my cup on the table. "Done!"

"No fair," Austin whined, completely stunned. "They filled yours with a shit load of ice."

"Are you accusing me of cheating, Mr. Butt-ler?" I exaggerated the butt part again, absolutely cheesing my head off as I fucked around with him.

Not actually fucked.

Just joking.

Busted his balls a little.

Welp, that didn't sound any better. Anyways —

"Not that again." He blew out a breath, his gaze training upward as he tried to remove the curl off his forehead in frustration.

My hand suddenly tingled at my side, itching to reach out and touch him — to move the curl from his forehead. I momentarily wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked from here.

Jesus.

Focus, Rianne.

Maybe Sher was right. Maybe coffee was a drug. Maybe one of those peeps at Syd's office infected me or doused their addictive stimulants into my beverage.

Shoving my hand under my leg, I settled. "It's not my fault you nurse it like a baby."

"Maybe we should've ordered espresso shots," he suggested, ignoring my comment right as another server placed a plate of fries and gravy on the table for us. "Could be a hit for Levi's party though."

"Don't give me ideas now," I warned him, pointing a gravy covered fry in his direction accusingly to which he just smirked at me before munching on his own stick of potato — if you will.

A strange silence washed over us as we indulged in the plate, my mind suddenly feeling cloudy and heavy with every intrusive thought imaginable. For some reason, I couldn't comprehend the fact that I was here with him, in my favorite booth, sipping coffee and munching on fries — looking like this was a normal usual thing.

Something we did all the time.

Together.

The thought lingered with me for longer than I liked, burrowing itself deep into my insecurities and worries.

Warning me to flee.

Warning me not to get attached.

"Good, you're both eating." Sher was suddenly there, leaning an arm against the top of Austin's side of the booth observing us. "Everything good, my girl?" She asked me, going back to ignoring him once she was satisfied that he was being fed.

"Great," I forced out — my smile feeling robotic as I attempted to stretch it across my face.

Everything was fine, and now it just wasn't.

She sent a strange look my way, suspicion written all over her face as her eyes scanned back and forth between us. Sherry knew me well – well enough to know when something was up with me. Well enough to pick up my social cues in a heartbeat.

Before she could even let out a single word, my hand ventured into my tote bag searching for my wallet. "I probably should go." I told Austin, placing some cash on the table to contribute to my share.

"Wait – Take it back," he urged, pushing the cash back in my direction and then whipped out his credit card, trying to hand it over to Sher.

Not again.

Rolling my eyes, I picked up my cash and shook it in front of Sher. "Who are you gonna side with on this one? The dude you just met or your girl?" I questioned her, narrowing my eyes as a test.

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Neither of you." She surprised us both. "On me. I'm not gonna wait and watch you two argue it out. I've got orders to take and shit to do." She raised her manicured hands up in surrender. "Goodbye."

And then she just disappeared – leaving us sitting there confused.

In a quick attempt to stop him from even thinking about paying for me, I left some cash on the table as a tip for Sher since she didn't leave us a receipt before decking out of there. I ball parked what I thought the price would be and hoped and prayed she just took it. If not, someone else would. Either way it would go to a place I appreciated.

Looking back, I watched him leave his own wad of cash – which was definitely too much money at this point for two coffees and some fries – before trailing behind me – his steps urgent. On the way out, I thought I lost him, but heard the bell above the door ring the moment I stopped at the corner looking both ways to cross.

Damn it.

Long legs stopped right next to me as I went to click the button for the crosswalk. "You're walking?" he asked, surprising me when he dropped the 'I'm paying-no-I'm paying' game.

Guessed it was settled — more than settled.

I sure as shit thought he was gonna say something along the lines of — "Just let me pay, Rianne," or "You'll get me back next time, Rianne" — just to get his way. Or maybe I was just thinking that because a part of my subconscious selfishly wanted to hear him say my name again. Wanted him to see me again. I already knew another part was already shutting that thought down — canning it in the trash bin of my brain.

You're gone.

Deleted.

"Yeah." I replied, squinting up at his tall frame against — what would soon be — a setting sun.

His golden locks shone in the light, complimenting the rays and his eyes looked even lighter — like a light blue sky reflecting off the ocean. Seeing him standing up gave me the opportunity to notice that he had on a pair of jeans and scruffed up brown boots — that looked like they'd seen better days — and now a black leather jacket.

"It's getting late," he muttered. "And the streets are gonna be packed with people and traffic now that rush hour is rolling around." Leaning against the post he finally ripped off the bandage. "Let me drive you home."

"Oh, so you do drive?" I teased, being a complete and total smartass.

"I was away for a while," he explained, pulling out a key from his pocket to drive his point further. Ha— drive? Car? Alright. Tough Crowd. Awful joke. "And I left it here, so it had to go into the shop for a check up when I came back. That's why I couldn't drive myself."

"Is it good? You sure it isn't gonna break down on us during the journey back home?" I asked suspiciously.

"I was in your friend La— Le— sorry, what is his name again?" His hand shot up to his head, his fingers massaging into his temples as if it was physically paining him to figure out what he was trying to say.

I knew not telling him would give me the upper hand, but watching him struggle started to pain me as well. "Levi."

"Levi. Right." He brushed his hand across his face just as he did in the diner. I wondered if it was a habit induced by stress. "I sat in his — no offense — pretty old car, and I let you drive me." He pointed out.

"True." I mean I couldn't deny the evident point he made. Levi's car was way passed the drinking age and probably even surpassed me by a few years — probably flirty and thirty. "No offense taken but, you didn't have much of a choice now, did you? And I wouldn't be driving this time, would I?"

"Well." He kicked off the pole, standing up straight. "No, but —"

I advanced towards him, so close I ruined the little line I mentally drew between us, my finger poking his chest.

"Exactly!" I stressed.

I won.

Two out of three.

Take that—Toothpick Umbrella Thief!

"Scared of losing control?" He quipped, biting on that ridiculous lip for the a millionth time today — seeming completely unphased by my close proximity and more amused by my evident aggravation.

"How do I know you're a safe driver?" I avoided his question, whispering like it was some sort of confidential secret. As if we weren't standing on a busy street in Los Angeles, but in a library with a librarian shushing us across the way.

"You'll just have to find out for yourself," he breathed, his face towering over mine — so close I could feel his breath fanning across my skin.

Too close.

I shouldn't have done that.

I pulled away.

"Thanks, but I walk all the time," I attempted to deny another one of his offers, staring up at the stupid light stuck on green — waiting for the damn thing to turn. "I'll be fine." I assured him, sending him a tight lipped smile as I pressed the button again, but with a bit more umpt this time.

He sent a funny look my way, before lifting up his sleeve and sniffing his arm. "Do I smell or something to you?" He asked in all seriousness, his nose scrunching up as he tried to figure it out. "Is that why you want to get away from me so bad? Cause if so, you can just tell me straight up." He joked.

If he meant smell good — yes, in fact he smelled so good, I found it really hard to concentrate. Which meant I needed to get as far away from him as possible.

But, I knew what he meant.

And he sure as shit did not smell bad at all.

"No." I let out a short laugh. "I already intruded on your booth, your work, and your late lunch. You should be sick of me at this point."

"I'm not sick of you," he said just as fast, proving to me that he was truly trying to say whatever would please me to get me right where he wanted me. "In fact. If I remember correctly, you have a shirt of mine that I have to get back from you. So it's a win-win — I drive you home, you give me the shirt." He stuck out his hand, initiating to shake on it. "Deal?

Fucking stubborn.

Taking a long hard breath, I let the steam shoot right out of my ears as I reached out and shook his hand. My body immediately caved once his warm hand engulfed my small one— our rings clanking together. My mind screamed at me to pull away, but —

"Deal."

Electric.

If it meant giving him his shirt back so I could finally live at peace in my own home — so be it.

——

it's the way i was cheesing like a total idiot while writing this chapter —smiling at typed words on a screen. anyways, hope you enjoyed <3 —xanadu

[spikedsoul]

Roxanne would literally combust if she saw Bowser in his snazzy wedding suit. I know I would, if I was the one wearing the matching wedding dress.

She technically already has! But she didn't quite realize it was a wedding tux. He was just trying to prove he looked good in clothes, basically

But I can't imagine the sort of stomach-dropping excitement she'd feel upon realizing she'd been destined to see that tux again. She'd float to the moon, I'm sure!

(I would, for sure...)

[tinytinybumblebee]

AH you mention rolan’s teddy and there was astarion with the owlbear plush… i NEED to hear in detail about the tiny ones’ special stuffies, everyone who you think regresses like rolan, ome, your tav, ofc astarion, and anyone else, please tell about the babies’ comfort stuffies ;w;

!!!!! Teddy tiiime♡♡♡♡

Astarion: He'd definitely have an owlbear plush. And also a very beautiful porcelain doll with stuffed/soft body!♡ She has the most luxurious curly black hair (always styled into Faerûn's latest hair trends). She'd kinda look like this, but with the fashion of dnd (Astarion sews all the clothing for his dolly!♡)

Karlach: Clive! But you know if she could, her bed would be looking like this! xD

Ome: This wiggly pillar! The mindflayer has an interest in caterpillars, they kinda remind him of himself. In the sense that caterpillars start as lil worm-like creatures, fest, then emerge as a butterfly from their cocoon!

Rolan: A very run of the mill teddy you'll see in the game buuut it has a very snazzy wizard robe, which Cal made for the teddy so that ted and Rolan can match!!♡

Shadowheart: She insists she's a big girl who doesn't need stuffed toys! But, secretly, she has a kitty!

Wildren(my Tav): A hand knitted duck!! It was a gift from his teacher/village leader when he was a young tiefling. He's kept it with him ever since he got it ;w; (Astarion has offered to sew up the loose, dangling eyes, but Wildren is veeeery against anyone fixing it)

[that0nebird]

So I've been really into acnh and our life so I started making a list of villagers I think the characters would have and here's that..!!!

So for Qiu I was going purely based on vibes I won't lie, I feel like their island be super normal but in a very charming way.

So for their two Smugs I chose Shep and Henry. I think Henry would for sure be their favorite villager like look at that frog he is so Qiu coded. Shep is Qiu coded too so he absolutely stays. I have a feeling Qiu would just in general have a soft spot for smugs.

For their peppy villagers I chose Cheri and BonBon. I chose both of them for the same reasons I think step 1 Qiu would think they look very fun. They'd always be active on the island, like they would 100% be the resident island troublemakers.!!

For their Jock I chose Roald because look at those big dumb eyes, that scatterbrained bird has not a single thought rattling around in there. He would have been a starting villager that was too cute to give up.

For their Normal I chose Goldie and I feel like the reasoning behind this is obvious, Qiu's favorite color is golden (and who doesn't love Goldie?) She would be on one of their first mystery island and they would invite her ASAP.

For their cranky I chose Wolfgang because he gives me such step 2 Qiu vibes it's not even funny. Look at h i m like oh my lord there isn't a world where Qiu doesn't have Wolfgang on their island. He would definitely be a lucky autofill villager.

For their snooty I chose Whitney because of vibes alone. She's so adorable They'd have 0 choice but to keep her. Also step 2 Qiu would love her imo. Once again she'd be a lucky autofill villager.

For their Lazy I gave them Beau because 1 he's orange, 2 he looks like he'd be right at home in golden grove, 3 and most importantly like Roald they're a silly little guy with worms for brains.

And finally for their sisterly (Who I definitely didn't forget to add and had to poorly photoshop her on.) Phoebe. She's a phoenix that lives in a volcano, she is literally so cool they would love her.

It's TamaTime™ I went in extra hard for my cottagecore queen!

For her normal's I gave her Molly and Stella. I chose Stella for multiple reasons;1, I think she's such an underrated cottagecore villager 2, Not only is she a cottagecore staple she also gives me major grandma vibes so Tamarack would definitely get Stella cause she reminds Tamarack of her Omi. 3, Stella is sooooo step 2 Tamarack coded oh my godddd. Besties for life I say. Now I chose Molly because she's the cutest little duck and reminds me of Tamarack in step 1 based purely on vibes.

Onto her cranky boys ofc I had to choose Dobie. Dobie is the grandpa villager and she would get him for a similar reason to Stella and that's because he reminds Tamarack of her Opa. He would have a home next to Stella and she'd use the Happy Home dlc to make his house a little office. As for O'Hare he was definitely an autofill she got too attached to.

For her peppy(s) I chose Felicity and Tangy. Once again both of my girls are so Tamarack coded. Felicity I'm more of a general sense and Tangy is one again giving me step 1 Tamarack vibes which I love. Also semi-unrelated but step 1 Tamarack definitely would love peppy villagers as a whole.

For her lazy you know I had to go with Erik. He's a cottagecore staple, a sweetheart, he's a sleepy little orange antelope and I hate to repeat myself (not really) but LOOK. AT. HIM. He even has a snazzy lil sweater. Love him and Tamarack would too.

For her snooty I chose Willow because she's so bright, cute, she's a sheep 🩷, her catchphrase is "bo peep" and because shes a snooty ofc my girl is going to tell you exactly what she thinks at any moment. For the third time we have peak Step 1 vibes.

Her jock is Teddy not for any particular reason other than I think he'd be a starter villager she few too attached too and conveniently fit the island theme.

For her Sisterly I chose Deirdre because she's a deer, she has a forrest as her home, and her starter sweater reminds me of one you can choose in game for Franky.

I will be adding to this later but my brain will implode if I think about this anymore right now.

[onekisstotakewithme]

Ooh! Tell me something or post a snippet from “Manchester secret dating but make it slut by taylor swift” please!

This sounds right up my alley!

It isn't REALLY a secret now, since it's been like two months, but it was for that valentine's prompts 😅 for CJ and Danny and secret dating much earlier in canon!

So... slowly, but surely, several months later, it's coming together.

She's jolted from her thoughts when the song changes on the jukebox, looking up from the dregs of her drink as the song switches from "Jet Airliner" to "Hotel California." Okay, sure, she can appreciate the irony. But when she peers out of the secluded alcove she's sitting in, she sighs. "Oh you've got to be kidding me." Because although he has his back to her, encased in a worn-looking flannel shirt and not a pair of snazzy suspenders, she'd know that silhouette anywhere. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world... and Danny Concannon had to walk into hers. (Of all the press she's been ducking in all the corps in all the world... he's the one she least of all wants to be accountable to right now). If he's looking for anything other than a hostile witness, she thinks wryly as she sips her drink, he's going to be very disappointed. As if on cue, Danny turns, and her traitorous heart does a little flip at the sight of his profile.

Thank you, Danielle! 💜

[torchwood-99]

Torchwood Costume Carnage Round 5 Results

I could comment here about the BDE of turning up on a crime scene in sunglasses, but what I'd really like to focus on here is that the winning result won by 69.6 percent. Which is so Jack, not only slutty, but also taking it that one step further by bring another sixer into the mix.

Ianto's practical jeans and jacket are paired perfectly with the look of abject terror on his face, and perhaps a little bit of existential dread in his eyes.

Because even when she's hunting cannibals, Tosh knows how to keep it sleek and snazzy.

Seriously, how could anyone say no to Owen in a necklace?!?!!

Just when you thought Gwen couldn't get any cuter, she hits you in the face with a beret. Metaphorically, of course. Though she'd probably do it literally too, if you were asking for it.

[sprymagician]

((More Writing, cuz I enjoy it. Moving down the line then))

That last guy was pretty cool. We like the scythe. Tell us about another one.

Alright sure. Might as well continue with the next one.

Traveling a few miles from Thorne's hive, there would be a semblance of a town, with some semblance of a functioning community there. One such house would have music playing there, even at ungodly hours of the day as we approach the hive of a rather plucky Bronze blooded troll. Inside the music would be playing through large and powerful speakers, the things blaring some vague electronic noise that passed as music. Not that the bronze could hear it. She couldn't hear much of anything, actually. Jahnee Feldor would be standing in a room not unlike a garage, tables of prosthetics, Robot parts, and other things that could be considered her trade. The woman was a... technician of sorts, and was also stone deaf. The music did have a purpose, the deep, vibrating bass that lightly vibrated the hive gave Jahnee a sort of ease, as she would drum one hand along with the rhythm. Currently splayed out in front of the woman was a textbook, some sheets of paper, pencils, A large grid over a sketch of a strange and ancient stronghold, and a cheat sheet she was using to record the encounter. Yes, the woman was deep into planning the next brilliant and exciting installment of a tabletop game she had been working on, The woman bobbing her head to some tune she was imagining as her glasses glowed a bit. A small interface would show up in them, the glasses displaying the few lyrics of the song onto her lenses as she'd glance at the projected text, before waving it away and focusing back on the papers. Jahnee would tap her boots on the floor a bit, Her pants having plenty of pockets and room for the many different things she likes to have on her, such as a lucky d20 she kept around, as well as a holster on the back for the impossibly loud shotgun she often used while exploring. She wore a simple tank top over her modest top half, a bronze crest on it to mark it as belonging to hers. Several silly armbands and goofy little baubles adorned her arms and hands, but would come off whenever she was working. She'd have a messy head of hair, Trimmed to stay out of her eyes as her glasses rested on her face, telling her whenever something auditory happened.

This is Jahnee Zelcra, and she is an avid fan of music despite being ENTIRELY DEAF. With some help from a friend, she overcame this by creating a sounds-to-text overlay and operating system for her, in the form of a pair of snazzy designer glasses. She spends her time helping out the... less fortunate of the area, be it offering her services as a technician and robotics enthusiast, making and selling robotic prosthetics for the maimed, disarmed, or impaired. When not doing that, she often played the drums, but had gotten a bit worse since her loss of hearing. She was also an avid Tabletop Gamer and Adventurer, relishing in stories of adventure and mythos surrounding old ruins, sightings of monsters, and fantastical settings. Monsters, creatures, and legends filled her heart with wonder and excitement, and she often offered sessions out to those who showed ANY amount of interest to them. As long as they didn't mind hearing her speak a bit louder than usual. She also tended to go on adventured to the countless old ruins around the planet, sometimes traveling pretty far to scratch that wanderlust itch. There was also, The Van.

Sitting in the garage with her was an honestly slightly disappointing relic of another time. The vehicle didn't run, at all since Jahnee honestly had no idea what the fuck she was looking at when she looked at the motor of it, But the rest of the vehicle looked rather nice. It would be a rather old looking vehicle, Found in some ruins and retrieved by a small swarm of robots she made. The inside would have been redone, the rotted carpeting ripped out, and the vaguely acrid smell of some kind of smoke cleansed out from it. The outside of the van looked amazing, having been repainted over the silly little symbol on the sides and the hood. The best part was the artwork on the side, A large and powerful orc with tusks swinging an axe at a dragon breathing fire at him, an alternian dice rolling on the highest possible side was emblazoned on this strange alien relic. The bronze woman rather proud of the sight, often looking to sight for inspiration for her sessions. How she dreamed of a place where she could be free and just explore and live out the life of an adventurer.

How unbelievably fucking ironic if you ask The Writer.

But yes, This woman went about her night, jamming to the deem buzzing bass of the music she had no idea sounded like, While tinkering and planning for her next grand adventure she would take her friends on.

((Yeah okay, Jahnee has a Van, Sue me.))

((I also don't know how much is here or how much needs to be added so I'm stopping this one here.))

[clarktooncrossing]

HEY THERE PEOPLE OF TODAY AND ROBOTS OF TOMORROW! IT IS I, CLARK! HERE WITH A LITTLE DOSE OF WEIRDNESS!

Ah, summer time is here once more. You all know what that means, right? Indeed, it means I'm working on art for Halloween and Christmas! Ha ha! What can I say, I plan on being prepared this year. Santa Clark hates getting caught with his pants down. Luckily that won't be a problem this year, as I've already got six sketches cemented for the Spoopy Season and have began work on two illustrations for the Jolly Season. My determination has been amplified ten fold! Surely nothing could distract me now, right? Enter @burningthrucelluloid to argue otherwise with something he had found on Twitter. A talented artist by the name of @QalcoveArt had drawn a pin-up of Zootopia's Judy Hopps in a two piece bathing suit to celebrate something called National Bikini Day. Keep that furry fuel alive, Internet! I kid of course, really Alec and I were moreso shocked that such a Holiday existed. We laughed at first, then Alec had a thought. He had envisioned his alien wasp princess Exa sporting a two piece herself, posing all pretty like before eating her outfit, much to the objections of her human friend Jackie. Seeing my friend take initiation, I suggested he design the bikini with a honey comb pattern, which is how we ended up with this:

Now THAT, my friends, is comedy! 

It certainly got a great reaction on my Discord server once he posted it there too. Afterwards we started talking about Jackie and Exa's friend Rosie, my own cosmic cutie charged with cataloguing the cosmos, and what she'd look like in a bikini. What the Masked Maniac had yet to realize was that he had issued me a creative challenge. One all too tantalizing to pass up. Thus I spent all of Thursday sketching Rosie in a snazzy two piece suit sporting the whimsigoth style. It had first been introduced to me by @sleepy-teacup and had proven to be a perfect match for my sentient space anomaly when I drew her as a wizard in my last Sketch BOOM. Anybody who wants to see how that turned out can click here! For now, we can marvel at this piece that took hardly any time to complete. My sketch was completed within an hour or two, leaving me with the task of coloring the thing in. However, I was coloring the thing in at two in the morning. I was only halfway done when I saw my clock read 4:00. Two hours had passed?! Darn me and how easily I get distracted! No doubt I would've continued coloring this were it not for Foxhatart telling me to get my insane, spotted butt to bed. Cut to the following Friday when I finally finished up the rest of this picture, giving Rosie her fiery red stars, dotting her bathing suit with golden stars, and giving her a beach ball and sunglasses for added style points. Now she's ready to have a rockin' summer in whatever universe she's currently visiting! All of this for a Holiday I technically missed. Either way, I hope you all enjoy.

Oh! And to those wondering about my Commissions, expect an update on that soon!

MAY THE GLASSES BE WITH YOU!

[moonlit-trolls]

(spins my wheel of ocs,)

who here might like a young rust girl, goes by she/they! she dresses v neat and orderly, esp as a librarian, even goes in a vest and ascot, :3 she's very snazzy looking too, w a dyed streak in her air and light makeup. she's easy to stress out, so a lowkey kind of date would be nice, easily charmed by a small night out, and a little bit of fancyness. she's not too picky, at least so she isnt a problem date or anything, but she'd rly love fun date stuff like fondue and artsy food, sdbj

open in all quads!

OH

**OH**

What if i gave you Lime blood watermelon girl. (art by ambivalence-and-torpor)