#so many of her exes get a pass or a shrug for how they’ve treated her or her fame because of her celebrity

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Because I know few people will see this and it’s getting late and the dash is crazy

Just a reminder that a certain someone (like someones in the past) also chose a public kind of life. To the supernova extreme that Taylor’s is, no, but this is the industry they chose as their vocation too, and this is the partner they chose to love from the outset.

Does that mean this someone deserves hate or harassment from her fans? No. Even if he had done something truly heinous which there is no indication of yet. But to also act as if he or any of her past partners are shrinking violets plucked out of obscurity as truly private citizens and her fame was a noose around their necks is completely disingenuous. These are not accountants or teachers or doctors who relinquished privacy upon meeting her. These are professionals in the entertainment industry who are seeking a level of public life to further their careers, in the sense that they have work in film and music and modeling and sponsorships and public appearances in service of those careers. Should commenters online be civil to any of these subjects when interacting with them? Absolutely. But let’s not pretend they haven’t chosen part of this life, and a certain public life would be an expectation of any they chose.

To act like Taylor’s dedication if not outright embracing of some of these aspects for her own career is a loaded gun is hurtful to her. (And to women in general in the industry.) I said this the other night, but Taylor has been mega-famous for over a decade; even if she were in a lull post-1989, that was still more attention than any human will ever experience in their lifetime. Choosing to jump into a relationship with her is an inherent acceptance of that, and forcing her hand in an effort to remove that — the intensity of which she for the most part has no control over — is unfair, and no wonder she’s pissed if it came down to that. I used an analogy that it’s like choosing to date someone with kids: they’re a package deal and by choosing them, you’re also accepting the full package. If you can’t handle it at that point of your life, the greatest kindness you can offer is to move on gracefully before everyone gets more hurt. Taylor’s life is no mystery in this respect, and choosing to date her but reject the core parts of what make her her — the appearances, the performances, the collaboration, the constant churn of projects to keep the creative juices flowing, etc. — truly could be death by a thousand cuts. Especially if for every inch she gave the person took a mile.

What I’m trying to say is: people shouldn’t be flooding these subjects’ social media accounts and dragging them, or harassing them on the street or whatnot. But, these are all grown ass men. Part of them (yes, even that one) want parts of this kind of life. If not, they would stick to plays in the west end or truly indie flicks, and not starring in leading roles in hyped tv shows or chasing after Hollywood movies with Oscar-darling directors. Or attending promotional events or participating in ad campaigns. They have agents and publicists and managers and all the trappings of celebrity. Everyone deserves their privacy absolutely, and I certainly sympathize with that level of intrusion because it seems unbearable to a dull normal like me. But, the parts that are a fundamental foundation of your career — performing, networking, supporting each other at events — shouldn’t be weaponized against Taylor because she’s at least honest about wanting it. We really don’t need to be protecting these men for the things Taylor is villainized for. These men may not admit it, but they chose to do the same kinds of events Taylor does, albeit on a much smaller scale.

I’m not saying it isn’t awkward that Taylor may be airing some dirty laundry in her upcoming music. But, for all we know, she may have reason to be pissed. And again: this isn’t new behaviour for Taylor. She’s always written music about her life. If someone isn’t comfortable with that from the outset, maybe they should have rethought their motivations. I don’t want to make assumptions, but thoughts are definitely thinking.

In short, stop babying men who choose this life to take down the women who embrace it.

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Chapter 16: Endings Beginnings

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: Ari and Hannah settle into life back home, but it isn’t all as smooth as they’d have hoped…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Word Count- 4.5k

A/N: It was recently brought to our attention that in a few other chapters there have been a couple of things that Ari has said/done that are not technically accurate for someone of Jewish heritage. First up, it was reference to Ari observing a ‘Sunday Roast’ when he visited Mama Navon. We just wanted to remind people that Hannah is of Catholic Christian and Jewish heritage (Spanish Catholic Mother, American Jewish Father) and her and Sammy’s upbringing has always been a combination of the two. So, when Ari visited Mama Navon when he was home from Sudan, clearly this was her tradition he was observing. Secondly, in another chapter Ari was praying to the ‘God and the Saints’. Of course, Judaism does not have saints, so there’s a slip up on our part with that one. As with the third point, when we described Ari rushing Sarah to the alter. He would have rushed her to the hoopa.

Regarding all of the above, we would hasten to add, that Ari grew up in the USA, leaving when he was 18. From what little we learn of him in the film, we know was taken by a British Soldier, who married an American Nurse. From the way he talks about it, we don’t get the impression his ‘adoptive’ parents were Jewish, so that alludes us to suspect he had a largely Christian upbringing, whilst clearly  being aware of his heritage. Therefore, we don’t think it is beyond the realms of possibility that he would pick up the odd little thing such as the above three points.  

That aside, we hope the above didn’t distract anyone else from the narrative as it did the reader who brought it to our attention.

Now, just a personal plea from myself in general. Myself and Storm do this for free, and not being a person who pays much attention to religion at all (that’s another debate in itself) it is for this reason I was VERY nervous about continuing this storyline beyond the plot of the film. We certainly don’t have the time, nor brain capacity to be researching things into any kind of huge depth. It’s why most of my story lines centre along similar types of things that I have a good background in. This fic was never supposed to focus on the ins and outs of a particular race of people, just the lives of two dumbasses in love. As all writers on here, we do this for free, and the moment it becomes hard work or unenjoyable, we won’t be continuing. So any other little slip ups, please, unless they’re offensive, give us a little leeway and put it down to Ari being exceptionally Westernised as pointed out above.

Sorry if this comes across as being a little harsh, but this has been playing on my mind a lot over the past few days, to the point I was seriously considering if we ended the fic where it currently stood. That said, I think we have a lot left to tell of Hannah and Ari’s story so, I’ll shut up now and let you read it…if you want that is.

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 15

“You haven’t forgotten tomorrow?” Hannah heard her mother ask, as the woman stood up from the table while holding the teacup and saucer to place them in the sink. “You do remember you have to pick Sammy up from the airport tomorrow afternoon, right?”

 Hannah rolled her eyes at her mother’s back. “No, I haven’t forgotten,” she sighed as she played with the crumbles of the pastry she had been nibbling on, “I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything else going on, is it? Seeing as Ari is with Maya and according to Sarah’s stupid rules I can’t be there with them…”

 At that, Maria Navon turned, giving her daughter a sympathetic look and Hannah snorted in anger.

 It had been four months since they arrived back in Tel Aviv, and Hannah had to concede that for the first few weeks it was fine. She and Ari settled nicely in the apartment Mossad rented in Ari’s name once all the paperwork following the end of the mission had been sorted. Ari had asked Isaacs for an upgrade of his living quarters, given he was now having Maya over to stay every other weekend, plus numerous nights of the week. Not to mention the fact Hannah was moving with him. When Isaacs had asked Ari to put a justification forward, he had simply shrugged, “I fucking earned it, Isaacs.”

 So he got it. Just like he usually got what he wanted, one way or another.

 Hannah was back working at the clinic. Her hands and the experience she had acquired while in Africa were needed more than ever now that it was only her mother and her to run it, although how long it was before her mom decided to retire fully was anyone’s guess. It had been a couple of busy months, what with interviewing for new nurses and locum staff, but Hannah would be lying if she denied having enjoyed every minute of it. She might have Mossad secret agent skills, obviously passed down by her father, but she was a doctor at heart. And that hadn’t changed in the two years she had been away.

 The team had split up within a month of arrival back in Tel Aviv.  Ari and Max had been working to help the refugees. Many of them had simply melted away post their arrival, still not trusting the mysterious white men who had come to their aid. However, some had stuck round; being housed temporarily in hostels, and was those who Ari and Max were tirelessly working for. They focussed their efforts on obtaining them permanent, legal status along with finding them better places to live and jobs of sorts to help them fit in their new reality. 

 Jake had headed back overseas to continue work as a diving instructor, this time in Jamaica, whilst Sammy had been in the States with Rachel for almost two and a half months now, and was, as Maria just reminded Hannah, due back the following day. Hannah suspected, however, not for long, fully expecting him to move there permanently to be with Rachel.

“Sammy is lucky, you know? He has none of this shit with Rachel’s ex.” Hannah grumbled, “Sarah is just being a pain in the ass. And I know for a fact it’s because we told her we got engaged. She was fine with me being there when Maya was until that point.” Hannah finished her rant as she placed her teacup and saucer on her mother’s extended hand. 

“You can’t be sure about that, sweetheart. Maybe there’s something else."

“No, she’s being a bitch.” Hannah quickly stopped her mother’s attempts at justifying Sarah’s behaviour. “She seems perfectly fine with us having dinner during the week and going out and stuff but won’t let Maya stay when I’m there on a weekend, basically just preventing us from spending those days together, for no reason other than she’s bitter.”

Maria Navon sighed. She knew where her daughter was coming from but, being the gentle and caring woman she was, she couldn’t help but try to put herself in the other woman’s shoes. She saw Hannah bite her lip and twirl her engagement ring round her finger, a rounded blue sapphire as deep as the ocean set against a halo of smaller white diamonds on a white gold band, before she spoke again.

 “I wouldn’t mind mama but they’ve been legally separated for years! The terms of their divorce are basically already been agreed. All they need to do is sign the damned papers but recently, well, Ari seems afraid to even raise the issue in case Sarah starts making it all awkward again and stops him seeing Munch.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Listen to me.” Hannah’s mother caught her attention as she pulled out a chair to sit next to her. “Everything is going to be ok, she’ll sign eventually. She knows there isn’t anything she can do about it, she’s just grieving.”

 Hannah’s brow creased at her mother’s choice of words. “Grieving for what? She left him, years ago!”

“She left him because she couldn’t cope with his lifestyle anymore, and he wasn’t winning any awards for being husband of the year, Han. That doesn’t mean she didn’t love him,” Maria woman spoke softly as if to appease her daughter’s raging tone.

“So, basically, I’m just stuck here waiting until she gets her head out of her ass?” 

“Have a little patience, honey. You two have waited over a decade, one way or another, to be together. You sure can wait a few weeks more.” Maria smiled as she reached out for Hannah’s hands who were fiddling with a teaspoon. 

“That’s the thing, Mama.” Hannah sighed as she looked up to meet her mom’s eyes. “I don’t think it’s just going to be weeks.”

“You don’t?” The woman frowned. “Well maybe she’s more stubborn than I thought.”

Hannah shook her head and then noticed her mother’s features had suddenly softened into a smile and she was looking straight over her shoulder. Hannah turned to see Ethan walking into the kitchen in his signature crisp work suit.

“Hi Ethan,” Hannah smiled at him and then looked up at the clock over the fridge before standing up and shrugging. “I should go. Spend the night with my fiancée before I’m banished back to my childhood home for the weekend like a love sick teenager.”

As she left the kitchen dramatically, she heard Ethan ask Maria. “That bad?”

“She’s pissed off,” Hannah heard her mom whisper back, “can’t say I blame her but she needs to make an attempt to see this from the other side, so to speak.”

With an angry growl, Hannah slammed the door and set off walking back to their apartment, in even more of  bad mood than she’d been in when she arrived at her mother’s. 

 Why was anyone treating her like she was the spoiled brat?

****

Ari was getting ready for Hannah’s arrival. He had been cooking, or sort of, making an attempt at dinner for a while and was now setting the table for two. He wanted to make tonight special as he knew this week was going to be the third weekend out of six that he and Hannah would be apart thanks to Sarah and her fucking rules. 

He was finding it hard himself. He’d gotten used to sleeping besides his Firefly since they had got together in Sudan, especially at night. But he knew Hannah was finding it harder. He was sacrificing their time together so that he could spend his allotted weekends with his daughter, which lessened the blow a little, but Hannah was basically being banned from living her life as it was for two days every two weeks, and that make his heart ache. 

And the worst bit about it all, was that he had seen it coming a mile off, and had been powerless to prevent it.

It was a bright Friday morning when they told Maya about their engagement. The previous evening Ari had proposed to Hannah for a second time after buying her a lavish ring. Thus, they had decided to take Maya for a walk and ice cream to break the news to her.  The little girl had been over the moon with the idea of her dad and Hannah getting married, which hadn’t surprised Ari seeing as his daughter had been all over his fiancé ever since they had met at Mossad headquarters the morning they had arrived home.

Now, as he approached Sarah’s apartment to take Maya back, he was about to tell his ex-wife and he was not particularly looking forward to it. But, he was being cautiously optimistic. Sarah had, after all, been amendable since they’d gotten home and seemed okay with Hannah being a part of Maya’s life.

Still, he felt his stomach churn as Maya walked up the apartment they had all shared once upon a time, and rang the doorbell.  No sooner had Sarah opened the door, Maya bounced in blurting the news out without hesitation.

 “Mom, guess what? Dad and Han are getting married! He asked her yesterday and she said yes!”

Ari groaned internally to himself, “Sarah, I didn’t ask her last night,” he smiled bashfully as he explained himself, “and I certainly didn’t do it in front of Maya.”

Sarah shook her head and brushed it off.  “Don’t worry, Ari and … erm, congratulations, I guess.”

“Erm… thanks.” Ari blinked. “I just thought you should hear it from me first… even if you technically did hear it from Munch.”

Despite the civil exchange, Ari could tell that Sarah was hating she didn’t have time nor the privacy to digest the news, and that wasn’t what he’d planned at all. He’d wanted to tell her, quickly, and leave, but Maya had put paid to his plans. Ari could feel coldness of his estranged wife’s stare, along with the tell-tale faint twitch of her nose and upper lip. He knew Sarah well and he, also knew how she deep down felt about him and Hannah. 

“She seemed cool about it but I know her, Han. Too cool for Sarah.” Ari told Hannah that night over dinner. “I can’t help feeling this is going to be bad…”

For once, Ari wished to God he’d been proven wrong. But, Sarah ended up doing what he feared, reverting back to being petty and petulant. She called him the next day to announce from that moment on, when Maya stayed with him, be it during the week or on her agreed weekends, Hannah wasn’t to be there overnight because, as Sarah had put it, it wasn’t appropriate for Maya to be around when they were… well, “up to stuff.

Hannah went ballistic, telling Ari his estranged wife was being ridiculous and she could go to hell, but Ari knew Sarah well enough to know she needed to get this out of her system. He tried his best to explain to Hannah that until she did, there was nothing he could do but roll with it, certainly for the time being. Making Sarah angry would not only risk her going back on terms of the divorce they’d set out in their separation degree, but also, he feared, make her get pissy about him seeing Maya. And that simply wasn’t something he was prepared to risk. He’d already missed too much of Maya over the years, admittedly through his own fault, but he didn’t want to miss a single second more than he had to.

Just as Ari was turning down the heat under their dinner, Simon’s ears pricked up and a second later Hannah’s key was heard in the door. Air smiled at the dog, who let out an excited whine, and leaned to give him a scratch behind his ears.

“Mama’s home, buddy.”

The pooch looked up at his master almost like he was pondering his words and Ari scoffed. 

Yeah, home. Bar the weekends when she’s banished to her mother's…

 Simon trotted off and soon after Ari heard Hannah greeting him. A moment later she walked into the living area and gave him a tired, but genuine smile. 

“Hey Lobo.”

 Ari beamed at his fiancé as he walked to meet her and without warning, he grabbed her face with both hands and stamped his lips on her plump ones, kissing the hell out of her. Hannah moaned in surprise but melted into his hold, her hands instantly reaching for Ari’s bearded cheeks.

“Hey Firefly.” He whispered when he broke the kiss.

She smiled at him as her hands travelled upwards and tangled in his hair. “Something smells good.”

“Thanks, I just showered.” Ari drawled, a cheeky smile on his face.

“I meant the food, you ass.” Hannah laughed as one of her hands slapped Ari shoulder, but his grin never faded.

“I’m a whole meal, honey.” He continued, playfully. Hannah rolled her eyes and stepped back. “But yeah, I’ve been cooking or rather mixing things in pots and pans.”

“Hmmm should I be worried?” She shrugged off the light jacket she was wearing to shield her from the summer showers.

“Well, Simon tasted everything and he’s still breathing.”

“Simon used to eat jellyfish, Ari. That’s not a bar to measure your cooking with.”

“Hey, I tried, okay? Give me some credit. I’ve never cooked for a woman before.” He grabbed her hips and pressed her to his body, one of his big hands splaying over her back.

At that Hannah smiled at him lovingly. He was right. She suspected he had never cooked for Sarah and he certainly hadn’t cooked for her, not once. Never in the brief amount of time they had been secretly dating, and at the resort it had been Chef Aziz's job to cook for everyone.

“I’m honoured, and I’m sure it’ll be great. Give me five to go wash up okay?”

“Sure, babe. I’ll plate the food and open the wine.” He winked at her and Hannah stood on her toes and gave him another quick peck before she headed into the bedroom, Simon following her.

True to his word Ari had done a pretty good job and thirty minutes later they were both sat at the table after having enjoyed a dammed passable and tasty attempt at a beef stroganoff on Ari’s part that left Hannah pleasantly surprised. 

She sighed with satisfaction as she left her fork on her plate and when she looked up she noticed Ari was looking at her intently, his eyes shining under those long eyelashes.

“You trying to seduce me before my carriage turns into a pumpkin tomorrow, Levinson?” Hannah asked before bringing her glass of wine to her lips.

“Hannah...” he sighed.

“What?”

“Please don’t, sweetheart. I don’t want to argue.” 

It was her turn to sigh, heavily. Ari’s words were more of a plea than a warning to her, but she couldn’t help the way she was feeling. Granted, she wasn’t quite as pissed as when she had left her mother’s house, but she still had a sour feeling which was nagging at her. 

“I don’t want to either, Ari. I just don’t like the prospect of spending my weekend away from you. Again.”

“And you think I do?” He asked, reaching for her hand over the table. “Honey, this won’t be forever. Sarah just needs to get her stupid tantrum out of her system.”

“Yeah, I know and I don’t want you having trouble with Maya because of me, I wouldn’t keep you from Munch, ever. But you’re my fiancé and I just...” she trailed off, shrugging, “I don’t want us to be apart.”

Ari licked his lips and pondered for a moment as he looked at their entwined hands. “Okay, I’ll talk to her when I pick Maya up tomorrow.” He nodded with determination when he looked up at her. “See if I can reason with her and...”

“Don’t Ari. You’ll only set her off.” Hannah rapidly cut him off.

Ari groaned and let go of her hand, his look and voice growing harder. “Well then, what do you want me to do? You literally just said-“

“I know, but I don’t want you to poke the bear! I just want this fucking ridiculous situation to be over.” Hannah shook her head. She knew she was riling Air up, but she was sick of everyone trying to get her to accept the situation they were in without so much as a word of complaint. “I’m not blaming you, it’s just…forget it, can we just pretend we are a normal couple who are having a normal evening dinner?”

“We are a normal couple. Well, as normal as most anyway.” Ari took her hand again, his features softening. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I just don’t know what I can do.”

“Love me.” Hannah stated after a while.

Now that puzzled Ari. Was that a request or was she doubting him. She couldn’t be doubting him, right? With concern written all over his face he pushed his chair back to stand up and hurriedly crouched beside Hannah, his hands grabbing her thighs firmly as his eyes searched for something in hers. 

“Firefly, I do love you. You know this… I mean, at least, I hope you do.”

“I do.” She nodded as she looked down to him. “Just don’t stop loving me, no matter what crazy ideas Sarah comes up with.” 

“Hannah, that’s not gonna happen.” He assured her after swallowing hard. “I promise you. Nothing she says or does is gonna change the way I feel about you.” 

****

Ari meant what he said and took it upon himself to make sure his Firefly was left with no doubt as to his feelings for her all through the night. And then again he made sure she hadn’t forgotten the following morning too before she left to pick Sammy up from the airport.

Ari collected Maya, as arranged, from the summer holiday camp run by her school and then, throwing caution to the wind, took her to Maria’s to see not only Hannah, but Sammy and the family. Hannah was surprised, but pleased to see them both and hugged Maya tight as the girl threw herself at her, chatting away about her day. They ate a lovely dinner, courtesy of Maria, and later, retired to the shared garden in the warm, July air. 

As Maya sat with Sammy, who was telling her stories about the states and Rachel’s kids, Ari found himself watching Hannah. She was sat with her mom and Ethan, the three of them sipping wine as the dusk drew in. It wasn’t long before the first little twinkles around the tree flashed through the darkness, signalling the fireflies had come out to play. 

Ari’s mind quickly travelled back to when he first met Hannah, how those little bugs had been present in the garden, earning her the nickname. His nickname for her, which had stuck and become a term of his love for her, symbolised by the pendant round her neck. It was that pendant, or more specifically how he had given her that pendant, which had fixed the idea on how to present her with the sparkling sapphire and diamond ring on her finger…

It was a Thursday morning, and Hannah walked into the bedroom after her morning shower. Ari looked up from where he was fastening up his short sleeved shirt and smiled as she grinned back at him. 

“You really do suit that colour, pretty sure Ethan’s secretary will approve.”

“Ethan’s secretary?” Ari continued, stopping two buttons under the collar.

“Yeah, that’s what I said Lobo.” 

“Ethan’s secretary is nearly a hundred years old, Firefly.” Ari rolled his eyes with a chuckle, his hands on his hips as Hannah frowned.

“Well who was the young, blonde girl at her desk the other day when I called in?” She picked up her hairbrush from the top of the chest of drawers that served as her vanity unit.

“Lorraine? She’s an intern, Mrs Goldman is training her.”

“She likes you. I can tell.” Hannah hummed, combing out her locks which had been piled on top of her head to prevent them getting wet.

Ari rolled his eyes as Hannah pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail. “Whatever.”

“You can whatever me all you want,” Hannah sang as she picked up a bottle of lotion and sat on the bed, “I can sense these things.”

Ari snorted, looking down at his girl as she sat on the bed applying lotion to her legs. “You getting all territorial on me?”

“Do I need to?”

“Don’t be an ass!” Ari snorted, leaning down to kiss her. 

As they moved around the room, Ari took his time, a lot longer than usual, dragging his morning routine out as long as possible. If Hannah noticed he was making a meal out of tidying his beard up, something he had taken to doing since returning to civilisation, she didn’t notice.

He was stalling for one reason, and one reason only. The surprise that was waiting for her in her underwear drawer.

After what seemed like an age, she crossed the room and pulled it open. Ari held his breath as she reached in for a pair of panties, but instead she gasped, he hand flying to her mouth.

Bingo.

When Hannah spun around, the red, velvet box in her hand, Ari was waiting on one knee, beaming up at her. “Still wanna marry me, Firefly?”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and she nodded, her voice thick with emotion, “yes, you know I do!”

“Had to ask with a ring, sweetheart.”

He watched as she opened it, her mouth dropping open once more as she stared at the ring. 

“Lobo, it’s gorgeous… I… I love it!”

As Ari rose to his feet, he sighed with relief, “good, ‘cause I had a hard time finding something worthy of my girl.”

“It reminds me of the ocean,” she smiled up at him, “and your eyes.”

“Kinda why I bought it, the ocean that is.” Ari smiled as he took the ring from the box, slipping it over her knuckle, watching as the sapphire settled at the base of her finger. “Hannah Maria Navon, I love you, baby girl.”

Hannah glanced at the ring before she beamed, her hands cupping his cheeks, “and I love you, Ari David Levinson.”

Ari smirked a little at the memory, they were totally late for work after getting a little ‘distracted’ so to speak celebrating their engagement once more, only this time in a bed and not the back of a shitty jeep in the Sudanese desert. 

“Dad?” Maya bounced into his lap, drawing a huff from him as she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs, “Are those fireflies?”

“They are Munch.” He nodded, kissing her head as she watched them zipping around. “Can you see now why I call Hannah my Firefly?”

She grinned, “yip!”

Hannah, who had been watching them, cleared her throat. “Ari, it’s getting late. Shouldn’t you two be heading back to your apartment?”

Ari looked at her pointedly. “Our apartment, sweetheart.”

Hannah was about to shoot a response back but then remembered Maya was there so she merely sighed. “Ari, look, you shouldn’t even be here now anyway. It’s not worth the argument if she finds out.”

“Why can’t we stay here, dad? I wanna stay with Han!” Maya piped up and Hannah groaned a little, shooting Ari a look.

“Because Han needs to stay with Sammy tonight, she’s not seen him for a while. You can stay some other time, okay?”

“I’m not gonna say anything to Mom if that’s what you scared of.”

At that, Ari and Hannah exchanged a look. “Why do you say that? Why would we be scared?” He asked and Maya shrugged.

“I heard Mom say some things.”

“What things, Munchkin?” Ari smoothed her long hair back and waited for her to reply.

“Well, I was upset, because at first I thought Hannah didn’t like me anymore as she always left when I stayed over. But one day last week, I heard Mom tell Grandma on the phone she had made you and Hannah spend the weekends apart because I was with you.” Maya paused and looked at Hannah, “Is that why you don’t stay with us at the apartment?”

Hannah blinked, she was stuck. She didn’t want to lie but also didn’t want to start bad mouthing Sarah in front of Maya, no matter how tempting. “Erm, it’s, well it’s complicated, sweetie. You and your dad need to spend time together. But I promise you it’s absolutely not because I don’t like you. I do, I love you very much.”

At that Maya stood up and launched herself at Hannah.  “I love you too, Han.”

Ari and Hannah could do nothing but exchange a look, which Hannah broke as she leaned down to hug Maya, tears visible in her eyes.

And it left Ari feeling even more like shit than he already did.

No, he had to fix this, even if it meant pulling Sarah up on her attitude despite Hannah asking him not to. Whilst he understood Sarah’s anger, and that she had every right to direct it at him, the fact that it was clearly having an impact on Maya was something he couldn’t let slide.

With a sigh, he stood up, instructing Maya to bid everyone good night. Before he left, he pulled Hannah into a kiss, his hands cupping her face.

“I’m gonna fix this,” he whispered against her lips, “trust me, baby.”

“I do.” She sniffed a little, her nose bumping his. “Go, go on. I’ll see you Sunday.”

As they walked the few blocks home, Maya’s hand locked in Ari’s, he was only partially listening to his daughter as she spoke. 

“Dad!” Her voice drew him from his thoughts about how exactly he was going to approach the subject with his soon to be ex-wife. He glanced down at her.

“What?”

“We’re you listening to a word I just said?”

“Honestly, no!”

“Daaaaaad!” She whined and Ari chuckled.

 “I’m sorry baby, what were you saying?”

“I was saying that I should get Hannah something for luck.”

“What do you mean?”

 “Well, Mom was talking to Auntie Louisa, and she said that Hannah was going to need plenty of luck being married to you so…”

Ari took a deep breath, anger flashing through his system, rolling his eyes. “Oh, did she?”

“Yup.” Maya nodded.

“And, do you think Hannah’s gonna need luck?”

Maya looked at him, and grinned cheekily. “Well, you are an idiot!”

“Rude!” Ari narrowed his eyes playfully, “mind you, technically, you might look more like your mom but you’re half me. Guess that makes you half an idiot, huh?”

Maya went to dig him in the ribs and with a chuckle, Ari swung her up and onto his shoulders. Her hands tangled in his hair as she giggled, before she leaned down, fingers threading into his beard.

“Han’s right, you do look like a wolf.”

Ari laughed, his hands tightening around his daughter’s ankles as her heels lightly bounced against his chest with each step he took.

[spacedikut]

fourth time lucky ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x reader

summary: spencer keeps failing at getting numbers and a very pretty girl is witness to an embarrassing encounter. 1398 words

a/n: my villain origin story is the lie that not everyone is in love with spencer reid

Derek Morgan, you are the bane of my existence. Spencer thinks as the tall girl, long brown hair curled to perfection that shines like it was dipped in glitter, awkwardly scuffles away from the painful conversation.

With a sip of his water, he turns to where Morgan is too busy with three girls to realise that Spencer, once again, failed to impress a random girl at the bar. After fifteen minutes of encouragement from his fellow agent, he was sure his third attempt at getting a number would be successful. Clearly, it was not.

It’s not like Spencer’s desperate. Really, he isn’t. He just sees JJ and Will, Morgan with… everyone, and now there’s rumours of Hotch and this Beth girl… he gets a little jealous. He wants some love, is that so bad? Apparently so, cause he can’t seem to get a number to save his life. No matter his approach, whether he goes with the Morgan-esque pickup line or pet name (which he hates and simply cannot pull off), or the Hotch just-smile-and-they-fall-in-love route, he can’t win. No name, no email, not even a fake number!

“That.. was painful.” A voice says.

With his shoulders hunched, Spencer turns to face the mysterious voice and is faced with a very attractive girl, who sips a very red drink through a straw. He resists profiling her (“profiling a girl at a bar is not sexy.” Garcia voices rings out) and instead takes in her appearance as innocently as possible.

She’s gorgeous. Spencer immediately gets nervous.

“Not well-versed in the language of love, huh?” She teases. Her smile is bright in the dim room, and it makes her eyes sparkle – Spencer knows it’s the alcohol making her eyes glassy, but it’s beautiful regardless. He wouldn’t mind getting lost in them.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Like I said, painful.”

They both laugh. She sticks her hand out, Spencer winces internally, and she introduces herself. Y/N. When Spencer just stares at her hand and opens his mouth to spew about germs spread through handshakes, she beats him to it.

“Not a toucher?” When he lightly shakes his head to indicate no, she shrugs casually, unphased. “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss, so I get it."

Spencer almost falls off his stool in surprise – did she really say that? He stares, eyes blown and mouth slightly ajar, and it sends Y/N into a panic. Why was he looking at her like that? Did she make him uncomfortable by mentioning a kiss? Why did she say that? Does he think she meant they should kiss? Why would you invite a stranger who literally just tried to hit on the girl next to you to kiss? Why-

“I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean we should kiss. Even though we’re in a bar, and two of my friends have already gone home with strangers, the third probably grinding on one right now, I didn’t mean we, us, two strangers, should kiss. I’m sorry. I’m drunk. I’ll be quiet now.”

“No- no. I didn’t think you meant… we should kiss,” Spencer hesitates, “The pathogens thing. I’ve said that before.”

With an ohhh, Y/N visibly relaxes.

“Did you hear the whole conversation?” Spencer scratches his neck, “Between that girl and I?”

“The whole thing.” She grins.

He groans and pulls an uncomfortable face, “Yeah. I’m not good at this stuff, I don’t know why I bother. See that guy over there?” Spencer points to the table Morgan sits at, still surrounded, and Y/N nods, “That’s my best friend.”

“No way.”

“Yup.”

“He’s got game.”

Spencer laughs. “He’s been trying to teach me, but he can’t help it that he’s a magnet. I’m hoping he didn’t witness possibly the most embarrassing encounter of my life, so that leaves just you and that girl to remember it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse-“ She pauses, and looks at Spencer is shock. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

There’s butterflies in Spencer’s stomach when she asks and, although he knows its common courtesy to ask for someone’s name, he can’t help but get excited at the thought that she wants to know his name for some reason other than decency.

“Spencer.”

“Spencer. Nice.” Y/N surveys the room, “Where are your other friends?”

“Probably at home.” Spencer wonders if she’d be weirded out by his perfect recall of what she said her friends were doing (two gone home with strangers, one grinding on stranger somewhere in bar), so he cautiously says, “All your friends are.. busy?”

Y/N chuckles, “Yes. We’re celebrating a breakup, so they’ve gone all out. I’m.. treating myself to too many Bloody Mary’s.”

Spencer’s interest in piqued, “You’re celebrating a breakup?”

“It’s a long story. My friend’s cheating ex got dumped by the girl that was way too good for him, so we’re honouring her with drinks.”

“Fun!”

Y/N beams and Spencer notices how her eyes scan his face. He’s not sure if this is the first time she’s done it (it’s not) and blushes profusely, hoping the dim lighting works to his advantage. Despite initially being terrified by her looks, she’s got this warmth to her. It’s obvious that the alcohol has helped her loosen up a little, allowed her to be more herself, and Spencer feels honoured that she’s talking to him out of everyone in this bar. Now, if only he could gather the courage to…

A figure tumbles into Spencer and Y/N is instantly in action, a “whoa!” jumping from her kissable lips (Spencer blushes again at that thought), and swaying before the pair is another pretty girl who is considerably more drunk than Y/N. From the way Y/N’s brushing her hair back and asking her if she’s okay, Spencer assumes this girl is one of the friends.

The girl mumbles something and is clearly too drunk, and Y/N is no longer relaxed, affable, instead slinging one of the girl’s arms around her shoulder and turning to Spencer with a grimace.

“I’m really sorry to do this, but could you help me drag her to a taxi? I’m weaker than I look.” There’s a joking lilt to her words. Spencer agrees immediately.

With Spencer’s help it doesn’t take long to carry the dead weight of a blacked out girl outside, and they both visibly sigh when they place her on a bench outside the bar. Y/N hails a cab fairly quickly, and Spencer panics.

You can do this. Spencer thinks. If you let this girl go I will be so mad at you Spencer Reid.

After a little struggle Y/N’s friend is stretched out in the back of the taxi. Y/N closes the door, checking she hasn’t hit her knocked out friend, and turns to face Spencer, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, Spencer. This definitely isn’t how you planned to spend your night, but I appreciate it so much.”

The sincerity in her voice nearly makes Spencer physically buckle over.

“You’re welcome. I-uh,” Spencer touches his throat nervously, “Talking to you was way more fun anyway. Guess I’m glad that girl rejected me.”

Y/N giggles. It’s infuriatingly adorable. “It’s her loss. Trust me.”

There’s a pause as he stares at her, and she bites her lip. Ask me, she thinks.

“Can I have your number? To make sure your friend survives, of course.”

Tension flies from Y/N’s body and Spencer can’t help but profile her – she wanted him to ask her. And now he has, she happily reaches for her phone and reads out her number. She asks him to text her right then so she has his number, too, and Spencer is ecstatic – Morgan won’t believe this! Spencer’s got game, too!

When he finally sends Y/N and her friend off, Spencer wishes he had the confidence to maybe hug her, but he decides he’ll save that for the first date.

“Reid! You dog!”

Morgan’s stepping out from the bar, surprisingly no girl on either arm, and Spencer grins goofily.

“I did it. I got a number.” He waves his phone at Morgan who slaps his shoulder.

“I saw! I saw. I’m so proud of you, pretty boy. She looks like a damn princess.”

Spencer twirls his phone in his hand, worrying his lip as he wonders if it’s too soon to text you already. “Yeah. She’s pretty great.”

[liibrii]

Chapter 3: In the light, your name

Ojiro Aran x fem!reader

Series Masterpost || Ch. 1 || Ch. 2

wc: 4.7k

warnings: time skip spoilers, swearing, internalised guilt and shame, intrusive thoughts, self doubt, drinking.

a/n: this only took forever cause I got carried away (what a surprise). if you wanna be tagged in future chapters lemme know, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! 

A step forward, two steps back. Like a dance, just like his mother taught him, dancing and laughing back home, only this dance holds no joy, only cruel turns and twirls and your hand slipping from his as fate whisks you away.

“One Ace special coming up!“ Osamu places a plate of freshly made onigiris in front of Aran. They look amazing, as if taken directly out of one of those fancy cooking books. The practice had been especially gruelling that day and yet Aran has no appetite. All he wants is to go home and sleep. He would have, if Gao hadn't dragged him to the newly opened Tokyo branch of Onigiri Miya.

More out of politeness than really being hungry he takes a bite. It's good, much better than ones he remembers Osamu bringing to practice. “Woah, this is tasty!“

Osamu practically beams at Aran's praise. Even he has changed, notices Aran. Has he grown a little? The grey of his hair is gone, and he smiles so much more. Aran doesn't remember ever seeing him so talkative.

Has everyone changed so much while he wasn't paying attention?

While chewing he pulls phone from his bag, in some silly hope there'd be a message from you. But the screen is empty and seeing his screensaver is almost a mocking to his hopes. What else did he expect? People don't always mean what they say, but a storm doesn't mean to blow away roofs either.

Lost in his thoughts Aran barely takes notice when Gao says his goodbye and other customers slowly start leaving.

Osamu closes the shop then places two more cans of beer on the counter. Without much enthusiasm Aran opens the can and pours the fizzling liquid into a glass. Which drink was it, third? Fourth? For a moment he considers telling Osamu everything. About you, how he feels and how he screwed up. Just to get it out there. But Aran knows Osamu talks to Atsumu, and Atsumu never learned what keeping a secret means. So he blames his sour mood on practice.

 Even if Aran was a good liar Osamu'd see through his little ticks. They've been the same ever since elementary school and so obvious; the nervous scratching of his nails, rubbing of his neck. Ever since he'd grown a beard he added rubbing it to the list.

“I should probably get goin',“ says Aran before downing half the glass in one long gulp.

“What's a few more minutes?“ Osamu doesn't bother pouring his beer. “I'll clean up later. Don't have any other plans anyway.“

A low chuckle leaves Aran's lips. “Life goin' that good, yeah?”

“Could say that. Could be far worse. How about ya?“

Aran massages his temples. He's getting light headed and still he takes another long sip. “Like ya said, could be far worse. Had a rough couple weeks. Women, ya know?“

Osamu hums and nods, wisely. “Women. Got dumped, did ya?“

“In a way...“

“What happened, did ya forget her birthday or somethin'?“

Aran laughs. Oh no, he knows exactly when your birthday is. “Said somethin' stupid.“

“Just somethin'? If she gets upset so fast then maybe she's trouble.“

“Wasn't like that. She trusted me and I... had a bad day and took it out on her.“

Osamu takes an onigiri Aran hasn't touched yet. “Have ya apologised?“ He asks with his mouth full. “Should start with that,“ he continues after Aran shakes his head, “treat her to dinner. I know some good restaurants if ya want. Or better, cook somethin' yerself.“ He opens the browser on his phone. “What's her favorite food?“

Aran tells him. “Whichever recipe ya find I can tell ya right now I can't cook it.“

“I found a few even Tsumu can make,“ laughs Osamu still scrolling through his phone. “What's she like? More into fancy stuff or more homey? Fried rice's easy but not very fancy, more of a safe bet. Maybe with an omelette. I can show ya how to make it to look like a panda. Success guaranteed!“

“How can omelette look like a panda? It's yellow.“ 

“A yellow bear then,“ Osamu shruggs before putting away his phone. “Does she like bears?“

“Does- I ain't sure...“

“Ya don't know?“

“No! Why would I? Is that what ya ask folk ya take on dates?“

“Usually I ask what they think about apple curry.“

“I don't think she likes apple curry... Or maybe she does...“ He gloomily stares at the empty glass in front of him. “Gimme one more.“

Osamu obliges and pours him one more, deciding this is the last one for him. Aran's eyes are getting glassy and he dreamily observes the white foam before downing half the glass.

“We went down to the Kamakura beach,” he says, scratching at his immaculate fingernails. “She looked s' pretty in the sunset... She likes sunsets... I think. Ain't sure 'bout anythin' these days.“

“Everyone likes sunsets,“ nods Osamu. “Never trust people who don't like seein' sunsets. I'm tellin' ya, buy her some udon. Or bring her here, I'll give ya a special discount.“

Aran bursts into laughter. “He'll know then...“ Osamu leans his head to the side, wondering what his old teammate meant by that. “She's ex of a friend.“

“Ow,“ is all Osamu says. That explains everything. You don't date a friends' ex. “Sorry. She sounds great.“

“Yeah, yeah she is... Kinda almost like a whasit's called again, kotatsu? Warm...“ He's just blabbering now, his mind a hazy labyrinth of disconnected thoughts. He misses you, he misses you so bad, and he fucked up, and he doubts cooking you a dinner would repair the damage he's done. Once it would be pretty easy to bribe you with the right snacks but you've changed. You've changed so much he still fears he doesn't know you at all. “Hey Samu? Hav' I changed?“

“Yea? I doubt the old Aran-kun wouldda come to me for advice.“

Corners of Aran's lips perk up. Why is his glass empty? “Yer a good guy ‘Samu. Can ya call me a taxi? I've got practice t'morrow.“

He has to stop visiting Onigiri Miya on the evenings Aran thinks on another morning after drinking and talking with Osamu till late night hours. The cool breeze of the early morning hours is refreshing but isn't doing anything to ease the hammering in his head. Sky without a cloud promises the day to be sunny and hot. Aran's just glad he found his sunglasses ad that the gym has air conditioning.

There's a distant ringing in his ears. Ringing that doesn't stop and causes other people on the train to send him sideway looks. It's because his phone is ringing but he's too focused on trying not to throw up to notice. He only does so once he's walking the short walk from the train station to the gym. Seeing your name over the 'missed call' almost makes him drop the phone. He calls you back, frantically tapping his fingers on his arm, hoping you'll pick up. You don't.

The sun is too bright. Pouring rain would be more appropriate to his mood. Aran's glad he can hide from the warm rays inside the gym. No matter his mood volleyball always takes his mind off things, and even now he hopes it will help him see things more clearly. The thought of you has become a wind chime, singing at every little thing that makes him think of you. Staying focused on the ball in front of him is harder than expected. But first and foremost he's a professional volleyball player with a new season just around the corner. He can't let his team, his fans down. Since your first year of high school you've been his supporter too. He can't let you down.

When his phone rings again he’s in the middle of receiving drills and this call too goes unanswered. Instead your message waits for him.

           (9. 45) Aran are u free this Sunday? the shrine down the street is holding a festival. wanna come?  

A wide smile spreads over his face. He's more than happy to come he writes back, his smile spreading even wider when only a few moments later you text him place and time.

“Ojiro what are you looking at?“ Gao peers over his shoulder and Aran quickly puts his phone away.

“Nothin'“

“Nothing, ey? Does the nothing have a name?“

Aran rolls his eyes and heads for the showers, ignoring the teasing laughter of his teammates. Honestly, he's too excited to see you to care.

Aran glances on his phone to check the time. Five more minutes and he'll be only ten minutes early. He kicks the small stone form the pavement onto the road. Then he straightens his shirt. Maybe this colour wasn't the right choice after all, maybe you would've liked the red one better. Once in passing Akagi said red looked good on him. He sends you a short message, letting you know he's already here.

Minutes later he catches the sight of your figure manoeuvring between visitors flocking towards the many stands. “Sorry, I got worried all the best mochi'd sell out,“ you apologise, pointing to plate full of different kinds of mochi in your hand. “Samu isn't here yet?“

“No.“ His heart clenches. He didn't even think about the possibility of you inviting anyone else. “He's probably just late,“ he quickly adds, “let me call him.“

“Always late,“ you complain, “tell him I got his mochi but if he doesn't appear soon I'll just eat them myself. Want one?“

He declines the sweet and you shrug. While he waits for Osamu to pick up he avoids looking at you. The call goes unanswered. “I'll send him a message.“

“Tell him every minute he's late is a free onigiri,“ you mumble, your mouth full of delicious mochi. “And he's paying for drinks. I saw a stand with soya smoothies up the street. And a stand with takoyaki.“

“Have ya mapped out all the food stands?“ chuckles Aran.

“Well you know Samu, food is his best motivator. You sure you don't want one?“

He gives in and takes the matcha one. He watches with a fond smile as you stuff an entire mochi in your mouth.

“What?“ you mumble when you catch him staring.

“Ya look like a hamster.“

You roll your eyes in an effort to cover the smile creeping on your face. “Very funny. How's life?“

“It's fine,“ he nods, awkwardly.

“Good.“

“Yeah.“ He rubs his chin. The beard is getting a little long. He glances over at you. He should say something. But what? “I'm really sorry about what I said,“ he finally utters. “I do care. About you.“

“We all say things we don't mean, right?“ The soft look in your eyes makes his throat tighten. He hurt you and yet here you are. Reaching out, again. “It's all water under the bridge. Besides, I really missed hanging out with you. So, where do ya wanna go?“

“Shouldn't we wait for Osamu?“

“Nah. It's his fault for being late, he'll find us. And he better buy us those smoothies. Want one more mochi? You should really try the chocolate one, it's amazing.“

Never again. Aran doesn't want to see you hurt ever again.

The festival is crowded, which is to be expected in Tokyo, and he keeps an eye out for you. The last thing he wants is to lose you somewhere in the sea of people. He stays close, quietly delighting in seeing your excitement over different attractions of the festival. A few times your hand brushes against his, sending a shiver down his spine.

Osamu never shows up, messaging about an hour later he got stuck at work, promising you both as many onigiri as you'd like the next time you come around Onigiri Miya. “A shame. I was hoping to hang out with him while he's still in Tokyo.“

“He'll have time in the future,“ says Aran, doing his best to ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.

“Probably. But will there be fresh soya smoothie for him to treat me to?“

Aran buys you the smoothie you so crave, grinning upon seeing your excitement. You walk around the festival grounds and from time to time he steals sips of your smoothie. You pout and nag he should buy one for himself but don't stop him. 

As night falls you search for a good place to watch the fireworks from. Just after they start Aran puts his hand on the small of your back to gently push you forward so you'd see better. But you don't budge and he bumps into you, his chest to your back. The sounds of festival fade, as if the crowd disappeared and all that remains is you, looking at him, fireworks reflecting in your eyes. The softness of your gaze causes his heart to do somersaults. You snicker and flick his nose.

Tease, he thinks and tickles you. He wishes he could properly put his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder. He wishes he was here as more than just your friend. He wishes he alone would be enough of a reason for you to always have the same soft look in your eyes.

But if Kita, the perfect Kita Shinsuke, Kita who knew you better than anyone wasn't enough, how could he be?

His hand lingers on your arm for a heartbeat longer. He could try, he could always love you with all he has and hope you'd love him back, hope he could be enough. But if he failed... he'd only hurt you more, wouldn't he? And you've been hurt enough.

During lunch break his phone rings and his hearts jumps, hoping it's you. But instead Osamu's name is written over the screen. A bit disappointed Aran picks up.

“Aran-kun whatcha doin' this Saturday?“ Not even a'hello'. So many years and still so rude.

“Practice till afternoon, then watchin' a movie.“

“Amazin'! Want some company?“

A boys' night out? Why not? It would be nice to spend some time with someone who wasn't his teammate. “'Course.“

Osamu laughs. “Knew ya would. I happen to know someone interested in a blind date. I'll tell her to meet ya at the cinema.“

“What? Osamu I'm not really one for blind dates-“

“The ex of a friend. She's Kita-san' ex, isn't she?“ Aran's silence is an answer enough. “Ya asked me for advice. This is it, go out, try meetin' someone else. Whatever you want to have with her it won't end well.“

Aran knows. He knows all that. He knows you returning his feelings would be the worst case scenario. Sooner or later he'd have to tell Kita. “I know,“ he says. “I know that.“

Osamu doesn't answer immediately, waiting if Aran will add anything else. “Just go on this one date, see how it goes.“

“I'll think about it.“

He does think about it. The entire day in fact. Meeting someone new would be nice and who knows, she might be the one he's waiting for. A part of him, the guilty part that's been way too loud in the past weeks, stays firmly against the idea. Searching for the right one when you're right here. What if this blind date is just a crazy fan who somehow found her way to meeting him? And what about you, it asks? It would be cruel wouldn't it, leading you on while going on dates behind your back.

But he isn't leading you on, Aran argues with the voice inside his head, you're just a friend anyway. He cares about you yes, but only as a really good friend. Osamu is right, you should never be more than that. You're Kita's ex. And you don't date your friend's ex. So why break his heart further?

           (17.48) I'll go on the date. send me time and place.

That's the thing about making plans, the moment you make them something else comes up. Just the following day his phone rings, making his heart flutter when he sees your name.

“Hey.“ Your voice alone makes him smile. “I, uhm, I have a request.“

No beating around the bush. It makes Aran wonder if you've been hanging with Osamu so much you picked up his habits. “Oh, do ya?“

“Yeah. It’s is a bit awkward... Listen, I have a very important exam next week but my roommate's gonna have her boyfriend over for the entire weekend. Let's just say earplugs aren't helping and leave it at that, yeah? So, could I maybe crash at your place till then? I just need a quiet place to study. I can sleep on the couch! Or the floor, I really don't care!“

“'Course ya can,“ says Aran without hesitation.

This is how we finds himself sitting with a bunch of your notes in his lap, you leaning on his back explaining one of the questions. There are at least 4 empty mugs on the desk of his living room. He hopes you've left some coffee for breakfast.

He's amazed by how naturally you fit into his life. Almost like the space beside his shoes in the closet was meant for yours and the jacket hanging beside his was always meant to be there. You've even found your favourite mug already. The bedroll on the floor of the living room is the only reminder you're only crashing at his place for a couple of days. If you asked he'd let you stay longer.

The next morning you wake up the same time as him, sipping your first cup of coffee for the day, half asleep and draped in the hoodie he strategically left on the counter last night. You don't even raise a brow when he takes your phone and asks you to unlock it. “I'll send ya a playlist. Just some classical music. It's good for studyin'.“

“Sure,“ you answer in a groggy voice. “Have fun bouncing the ball around,“ you wave him off when he gets ready to leave.

Your sleepy face makes him smile for the rest of the day. Practice runs longer than usual and he returns late, stepping over two stairs at the time. The lights are still on when he enters but there's no answer when he calls out. He finds you behind the desk, so absorbed in your notes you don't notice his approach. When he places his hands on your shoulders you jump and shriek. “Aran!“ You remove your headphones. “Do you want to give me a heart attack?!“ He laughs and you smack his leg before he sits on the floor beside you.

“Is the material so interestin'?“ He looks over your many notes and pushes an empty mug to the edge of the table.

“I was listening to music,“ you rub your eyes. He notices they look a bit reddish. He takes your phone and clicks the play button and music continues. It only takes him a moment to recognise the piece.

“Dmitri Shostakovich, Waltz number 2. My mom's favourite. Used to dance to it with dad every Thursday.“

“That's sweet.“

He stands up and offers you his hand. “Come, ya need a break.“

You take his hand without question, only raising your brow when he places his left hand on your back. “Ya have to put your hand on my shoulder,“ he grins to your more than apparent confusion.

“Oh, right,“ you mumble. “I can't really dance you know. Not waltz at least.“

He gently holds your right hand in his and gives you a reassuring squeeze. “Don't worry, I'll teach ya. I start with my right foot forward, ya step back with yer left, yep, just like that, then my left foot forward,“ you jump in surprise when he turns you around, “and the first turn, now yer right foot forward, then left, and turn. See, it ain't hard.“

“Easy for you to say,“ you disagree, your eyes fixed on his feet and your mind preoccupied with trying not to step on his toes.

“Just follow my lead,“ grins Aran, gently pulling you a little closer.

He counts the steps and beats in his head and step after another you relax and follow his lead. All those Thursdays when dad wasn't home and mom pulled him into taking his place are finally paying off.

“I didn't know you could dance so well.“

Aran laughs at your words and gently pushes you into a twirl under his arm. “I guess there's a lot ya don't know,“ he says when he pulls you closer again. 

You follow his steps and soon begin catch on the slightest of his moves. Music changes but you don't let go so you dance on through his living room, off beat and saying quiet 'Sorry's,' every time you step on his toes. The way your brows furrow when you mess up is adorable but Aran doesn't give you the time to ponder over the mistake, pulling you into the next turn with ease and certainty of someone who has danced these steps countless times.

When the last song ends Aran leaves his hand on your back. You're so close, your hand in his. Looking and smiling at him. His eyes linger on your lips. It would take so little to close the space between you. So little that would change so much.

He pulls away.“ Do ya want tea?“

“Don't I always?“ you muse and head to put the water on, then open the cupboard but the last cups stand on the highest shelf and even on your tiptoes you can't reach them. Aran gently pushes you to the side and reaches for them. “Here.“

He pours himself a glass of water then pulls his phone out to check the time. Shit. The blind date. That's today! He glances over at you, making your tea, humming the melody of the last song you danced too. His heart drops.

What is he doing? He can't... This is getting out of control. He clenches the glass tighter. You're so close, he wouldn't even have to fully extend his arm to tap your shoulder. If, right here and now, he told you how he feels, how would you react? He lifts the glass to his lips. Probably not in the way he wants you to. A leap of faith, one that could take him anywhere. To the love of his life, he thinks watching you stir, or to the stone to shatter the friendship you both tried so hard to rebuild. A risk he doesn't have the courage to take.

The half empty glass he leaves in the sink draws your attention. You watch Aran head for the bedroom and you don't think much of it. It's his apartment, he can do what he wants. It's only when almost ten minutes pass that you decide to poke your head through the door to see what he's up to. The clothes he's wearing certainly aren't what one would wear for staying at home. “Going somewhere?“ you ask, curious as to why he's wearing a pretty alright polka dotted shirt.

“I have a date.“ He awkwardly fixes his collar. He doesn't want to meet your eyes.

There's a short silence before you answer. “A date? In this shirt?“

Your judgemental tone makes him turn. “What's wrong with this shirt?”

You scrunch up your nose. “It gives you that,“ you wiggle your fingers, “successful businessman in his forties looking for a wife vibes.“

“What's wrong with that?“

“What's wrong with-?! Aran! You're a professional athlete!“ You enter his bedroom and start looking through the closet. “Don't you get invited to fashion shows and stuff? One would expect you'd get some fashion sense purely through osmosis. Ouch!“ you yelp when he playfully smacks your shoulder. “Here, this one.“ You hand him a shirt of dark violet colour.

He takes it from your hands and inspects it. Then he hands it back. “I like this one better. And I'm runnin' late already anyway.“

You shrug and hang it back. “As you wish Mr. CEO. Wait, are you bringing your date back here?! Shit, I need to clean up my stuff.“

“Relax. I'm not bringin' anyone back. It's a blind date anyway. Ya keep studyin' alright? I'll be very disappointed if ya don't get the highest mark.“

“What do you mean a blind date? Damn, I didn't expect that from you player boy,“ you tease and it's a distraction enough for Aran to miss the forced smile.

“Osamu's idea.“

A small “Ah,“ is all you reply at first. “Get going then, being late is the worst you can be on the first date!“ You push him out of the room. “Have fun, don't say anything stupid, and don't only talk about volleyball.“

“It's not my first date y/n, gosh, stop bein' such a mom. Why are ya so excited anyway?“

“Probably too much caffeine.“

When he returns you're still up. You have two cups of tea ready before he even takes his shoes off.

“So, how was it?“ You push the cup across the table. “Come on, come on, no need to be shy,“ you grin, “tell me!“

Aran rolls his eyes at your sudden excitement. “It was nice, but nothin’ special,“ he tells you.

“Just nice?“ You tap your fingers on the table. Aran recognises the rhythm, it's one of your favourite songs. You sent it to him a few days ago. “Dating must be harder now that you're famous,“ you say, absent-mindedly. “Or is it easier?“

Before answering he takes a cracker from the bowl on the table. “Harder,“ is the answer he settles on. “Ya never know if they're attracted to ya or yer status. What about ya?“ He focuses on chewing crackers and taking small sips of tea, anything to keep from glancing at you.

“Ah you know,“ you sigh, “have enough other problems at the moment. College is messing with my head enough already. Why put another person in the mix?“ This time Aran doesn't miss how your voice trembles, and how you rub your forehead. Maybe you just have a light headache. You do look exhausted.

He changes the subject, feeling the talk of dating is quickly approaching dangerous territory. “How are ya feelin'? With studyin' and all?“

You lean on your hand. “Could be much worse. It's just a lot. Probably should have started with studying earlier.“

“But with work ya didn't even have enough time, right? Don't be too hard on yerself.“

“Actually, I quit. I thought it would help me focus on studying,“ you say upon seeing his questioning gaze.

“Ya know what will help ya study better? Some good night's sleep.“ He takes your empty cup. “I'll do the dishes, ya go ready for bed. No talkin' back,“ he points his finger to your face, “ my house, my rules. No stayin' up past midnight.“

“It's one in the morning.“

“Past time for ya to go to bed then young lady.“

After that you don't protest and before he even finishes doing the dishes you're snuggled on your bedroll and half asleep. Seeing you fills him with warmth. He could get used to this, coming home to you every night. He turns the lights off.

When he lays in his bed he wonders what's with the sinking feeling in his chest. There's anger. Why were you so excited for his date in the first place? Why did you look almost disappointed when he said it was nothing special? He hugs his pillow, thinking he'd much rather it was you in his arms. You must be soft. If only you'd be here, his nose filled with the scent of your shampoo. Teeth of shame sink in his heart. Why does he have to feel like this?

He wants you to be jealous. It's so damn childish, he knows that. It's something his teenager self felt when you hugged Kita after a game but only gave him a high five and a head pat.

How long is he going to keep lying to himself? He's in love with you. Not the you he remembers. You here and now. You sipping your fourth cup of coffee, you frantically flipping through notes wearing one of his old hoodies. That at least hasn't changed; you still steal any hoodie you can get your grabby little hands on. Not steal, he corrects himself, borrow. You borrow them. For an undetermined period of time.

He buries his face in the pillow. You're not the always cheerful manager he remembers anymore. But you are still you.

Tag list: @aonenthusiast @rosecaffelatte @kara-grayson04

[flooffybits]

I Need You

Idol: Park Chaeyoung (Blackpink)

Request: Yep

Anon: a rosé angst to fluff scenario in which you think you’re doing the right thing by trying to move on “Don’t ask her out again, please… You’re killing me, every single time you do it.”

Author’s note: I wasn’t exactly sure if you wanted this to be female or gender neutral, so I kept it as neutral.

“Y/n, come on. It’s time to get up.” The sound of your roommate sounded so distant as you stared up at the ceiling. Despite the fact that it was summer, you couldn’t help but feel cold while you laid in bed, face void of any emotion.

Your phone ended up buzzing again and you didn’t need to check to know who it was. That was how it’s been for the past three days.

Even when you try to block the memories out, they replay in your head like a movie that served to break your heart because of the image of seeing her own heart break before your very eyes.

..

“I swear, it’s nothing. I can deal with it.” Despite her words, her voice shook and you could see in her eyes just how much she’s struggling to be calm when everything around you is crumbling just because of one picture.

Dispatch had caught the two of you together, and even when your face wasn’t seen, it was impossible to say that the other person there was not Chaeyoung, Blackpink’s Rosé.

“You know that it’s risky, we both do. This isn’t the first time they’ve caught us, and if this keeps going, you’re going to get in trouble.” You tell her as she desperately tries to hold her tears back. “Then what are you saying we should do? Break up?”

Your silence was enough to focus her attention on you as she stopped pacing. Her eyes scan your face and it’s clear as day, the regret that fills your eyes while you look back at her. “Y-Y/n, no, we can do something else.” She basically pleads with you, but you know that if this keeps going, she’s only going to get hurt even more.

It was already enough that YG refused to treat her better, but you just didn’t want to give them another reason to treat her worse than they already did.

“Chaeng, you’re at the peak of your career. I don’t want to be the reason that you lose it.” You tell her while taking her hands in yours and you can feel them shaking. You give them a gentle squeeze as a form of comfort, but you both know that your decision wouldn’t give either of you that.

A whimper comes from her and her lower lip trembles. She’s given up trying to hold her tears back while she holds onto you tight, not wanting to let go. “Please, don’t.” You don’t bring yourself to look at her, because if you do, you’re sure that you can’t leave.

So with a final breath, you carefully withdraw from her whilst she tries to hold on to you for as long as she can. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

..

Huffing, you get out of bed and try to get ready for work, brushing everything off and leaving them in your bedroom to focus on your own tasks.

After getting dressed, you walked out and greet your friend while grabbing an apple from the counter, checking your phone for any emails sent to you. You tried your best to avoid looking at Chaeyoung’s messages, but there was too many that it pushed work related notifications down.

Can we please tal…

I know you don’t wa…

I miss you Y/n can w…

Everything was in the same kind of context, but you didn’t want to ruin the progress you’ve been making. It was for her, you remind yourself. So while you cleared the notification bar, you exited the apartment and drove off.

Meanwhile, in the dorms, Chaeyoung stared anxiously at her phone, seeing that her texts were delivered, yet unread. She had to bite her lip while wiping away her tears, failing to notice her friends watching her from the side.

It’s been like this ever since the breakup and they weren’t too sure with what to do. They understood why you did it and they were thankful of how thoughtful you were of they friend, but they also felt pity with how you had to sacrifice the relationship you both valued so much over the year.

Looking to each other, Jennie let out a sigh as she took a step closer until she was standing next to the weeping girl. “Rosie, come on. I think that’s enough.” The older girl whispered softly as she rubbed her back in a soothing manner. “B-But I need Y/n.” She whimpered, clutching at her phone as she curled further into herself.

“Chaeyoung-ah, Y/n is doing this for you.” At Jisoo’s words, she shut her eyes tight as fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks. “But I don’t want them to do it.” She sobs and Lisa joins her on the bed and wrapped her arms around her. “You’re only hurting the two of you.”

Jisoo stood beside Jennie this time, arms crossed and lips pursed. “Chaeyoung, I know that it’s not want you want to hear, but think of this as a good thing. Maybe, somewhere down the road, Y/n and you will find each other again.” She offered, but it wasn’t working.

Chaeyoung might be a patient person, but you are the love of her life, something she’s realized when she came home one day and found you waiting for her despite the fact that it was almost four in the morning. Anyone would have just gone to sleep and spoke to her in the morning, but there you were, a plate of food ready for her as you spoke to each other about everything and anything.

You didn’t look tired at all when you spoke to her. In fact, it looked as though you had been recharged and she felt her heart fluttering because of how much you gave her all your attention and love.

“I just can’t.” Her eyes fell back to her phone screen and Lisa gently placed a hand over it, taking your name out of her sight. “Chae,don’t ask them out again, please.” Her best friend pleaded. “You’re killing us, every single time you do it.” She added and Jisoo nodded. “We love Y/n. We love them for you, but right now, we can’t risk the public catching you again.”

That seemed to trigger something in her as she pulled away from their hands. “Why do they have to tell me what I can and can’t do? I don’t owe the public anything.” She snapped. “I’ve been doing everything for everyone and for what? For them to stop me from being happy?”

The three were surprised by her sudden outburst. But at the same time, they could understand. It was tiring and frustrating to be an idol, so they valued their privacy that much to let anyone intrude.

Jennie let out a sigh as she ran her fingers through her hair and nodded. Lisa turned to her before the girl spoke. “Come on, get dressed.”

She didn’t even bother looking back as she made a move to grab her keys and wallet. “If you want to see Y/n and get them back, then get off your butts and let’s go.”

..

“Yo, L/n, I’m surprised you’re staying longer these days. What’s new?” Your co-worker called out as you signed a few papers. He was nice, very friendly, but you weren’t exactly that close to share things with him.

“Nothing much.” You shrug while grabbing another file. “Just thought that I should be a bit more focused with work.” You tell him as you scan over the contents, exhaustion clear on your face as he raised a brow. “You? Not focused? That’s a big ass lie. No one works harder, here, than you.” He tells you while taking a sip of his coffee.

You simply shake your head before there’s a tap on your shoulder. “Y/n, there’s someone looking for you outside.” One of the interns said timidly and you blink in confusion before nodding lightly, rising to your feet and dusting yourself off. “Thank you.”

Your colleague looks curiously at you while you shrug your shoulders and head for the exit. Who could be looking for you and couldn’t they have come inside?

But then, just as you reached the door, your phone began to ring. Inhaling sharply, you look down, only to find a name you wished wasn’t trying to contact you.

Incoming call from Aussie Princess

Suddenly, you could already tell that this was more than just a coincidence. Because looking outside, you could already see the familiar looking black van waiting outside, and if the windows weren’t tinted, you would already find your ex-girlfriend watching you from inside.

Hesitantly, this time, you answer the call. Bringing the device to your ear, you keep your eyes on the van and hear silence on the other end of the line. Maybe she just dialed your number by accident, you hope. But based on the past days, you doubt that it was that.

“… I didn’t think you would pick up.” Her voice is soft, broken, and tired. And it’s like a knife is being wedged into your heart because you know that it’s your fault.

“What are you doing here?” There’s no malice in your own tone, just mere curiosity and she takes that as a sign to press forward.

“I wanted to talk. Can you please come here?” A few people who passed by glanced oddly at you as you remained in front of the glass door. You want to decline, go back and forget this call happened, but you find your body acting on its own, leading you outside and cautiously walking closer. “You know that we can’t, Chaeng.”

“Then why are you here?”

Only a few feet away, the door of the van slides open and you’re soon face to face with the girl that’s captured your heart. “Because no matter how much I shouldn’t, I’ll always want and need you.” You slowly lower your phone, her doing the same as you stare at each other, reflecting the other’s emotions as though you were staring at a mirror.

“Stop pushing me away then. Because no matter what happens, I’m always going to be yours.” You’ve missed her so much. Her words only pulled out a shaky breath from you as your fingers twitched to reach out to her.

She takes note of it, and without waiting for a reply, she hops out of the van and latching onto you in a matter of seconds. Her face is buried to the crook of your neck, and just like the day you let her go, she was trembling.

Immediately, you hold her as close to you as possible and she holds back a sob that’s threatening to come out. “Please, Y/n, I need you. I can’t do this without you.” She whispers and you see her three members inside the van, smiling at you and nodding in encouragement.

“What about your job?” You ask and she pulls away to look you in the eyes. “We can make it work.”  There’s so much conviction in her tone that you can’t help but believe her.

A smile slowly comes to your face as you cup her cheek and she’s melting into your touch. “Let’s go home?” She asks quietly and you nod your head.

“Hey L//n, what are you-” But you wave to your colleague with a smile. “I’m gonna head home. Can you fix my stuff for me?” You don’t wait for him to reply as Chaeyoung drags you into the van with her, shutting the door behind you and cuddling with you on the seat.

“Hi Y/n.” The girls greet you and you smile at them. “Hey.”

“Glad to have you back.” Jennie tells you and you turn to the girl in your arms, your smile widening as she stares back at you. “I’m glad to be back.”

Chaeyoung pulls you into a kiss, your heart fluttering as her lips moved against yours, just like the first kiss you’ve ever shared while Lisa takes a quick picture as promised.

“I love you so much.” She whispers against your lips and you give her another peck.

“I love you, too.”

[virgil-is-a-cutie]

Alya salt Alya and class (except Chloe and sweet tomato Nathaniel) destory Marinette's sketchbook but shes doesn't care cuz it was 4 the class and consequences happen (based on unmaskedagain fictattered remains and broken dreams(yours not mine))

Screwing Up (You Did, Not Me)

This has light salt cuz I'm too lazy to to continue. If y'all want a sequel tell me.

Marinette hums as she put her sketchbook of her designs in a metal box with a lock in it. She had bought the small vault after Chloé copied her hat design.

Chloé still winced and gave her a sheepish smile whenever they hanged out at the bluenette's room.

At least she showed she regretted it honestly.

She was glad she got the steel box, it was something she was glad she got once Lila came into the picture. She lost trust in her ex friends a week after Lila came back since they easily followed Rossi without taking into consideration what she was saying.

Sure the class have only known her for two years, but surely they've heard about her the four years that she's been at Dupont since moving from America at the age of 10 years old.

They acted like friends, but they honestly saw her as someone to only do stuff for them.

At least some did a commission unlike others in the class. That made it easier to have separate sketchbooks for the class really.

She puts a white sparkly sketchbook in her backpack since Sabrina and her had been discussing the designs for the school play that she and the rest of the theatre class were going to put on.

At least the theatre teacher commissioned her early on and Sabrina and her discussed with Marinette on what the style of the costumes they wanted for the play.

Mylene had been kicked out of the theatre club as well the class after they witnessed her verbally assaulting Marinette, who had been ignoring the shorter girl by listening to a P!ATD song. Mylene had protested, but Sabrina had ripped Mylene a new one. She may not get along well with the bluenette since Chloé and her became friends with the bluenette, but she didn't believe Marinette deserved to be treated harshly.

She wore a baby pink sundress with a black motorcycle jacket with pink flowers stitched into it and pink combat boots with spikes on them.

She had started to hang out with Gina more now and her outfits have changed a little because of that.

She fixes her hair in a side braid before grabbing a granola bar and a yogurt cup before grabbing her school bag before heading to school 40 minutes early. She had a small breakfast meeting to get to before class started.

She met with Sabrina and the theatre teacher in the theatre classroom to discuss any alterations and last minutes things needed on the classroom, which were not needed much to Marinette's relief.

So when there was about 10 minutes before class was set to start she went to her locker and put up her small make up bag that just contained eyeliner and light pink lipstick and a few nail polish containers. She noticed she was missing a white sketchbook with the design of a rainbow poop emoji, but she shrugged it off.

It wasn't that important. Well it was, but only for her class really, the classmates that deemed it a right to use up her time among other things for free things that she really believed they didn't deserve.

She hums listening to I Write Sins Not Tragedies as she walked to class, softly mumbling to the beginning of the song.

Nathaniel was pacing back and forth outside the classroom, he noticed her and tried to talk with her, but Chloé grabbed his hand and questioned him quietly as to what was worrying him.

A few of her classmates had a shameful look on their faces while a few smirked smugly at her or snickered as she walked passed them on her way to her seat in the back.

She frowns upon seeing shredded paper on her desk, but realization struck her when she saw the cover of the sketchbook her ex friends ripped up.

Nathaniel and Chloé watched from the door with a nervous and worried look on their faces.

She shrugs and sings along to the song softly as she takes a picture of it, grabs the cover of the sketchbook, saving it into her backpack.

For fun reasons only.

She then sent emails to whoever she needed to before grabbing the shredded paper and throwing it into the trash can that was beside the corner in the back. Making sure to clean up the mess well in her desk, and goes over to the front of the. She wanted to see their faces as she told them that they all screwed themselves over.

Well... a few of them did really.

Nathaniel tried to gently grab her shoulder, but she waved him off with a soft smile. She took off her headphones, music blaring loudly out of it as La Devotee played out.

She turns back around before groaning and pinching the bridge of her nose before smiling widely to the class.

Her ex friends were very much surprised, they thought she would be crying, or screaming really. Even Lila was a little shocked at the biracial girl's reaction to seeing her ripped up sketchbook. She wanted the Chinese Mexican American girl to at least cry.

They thought the the

"Aren't you.... aren't you at least a bit sad dudette?" Nino asked weakly.

He wasn't close to Marinette anymore because of Lila, but he knew that Alya went too far in destroying the bluenette's sketchbook.

He was honestly debating on breaking up with her ever since she started to beg for more dates and tell him to drop their younger siblings off with Marinette, who he knew was possibly too busy to even do so because the bluenette always had her schedule in order.

Marinette breaths in deeply and makes a praying gesture with her hands as she does this before giving them a toothy and wide eye grin.

A very wide toothy grin with wide eyes that sorta freaked out a few of her classmates. Possibly even Lila.

"I cannot stress this enough... but y'all fucked up, pendejos. Pinche brutos," she said slowly as if to let them understand as if they were children.

Which they were, but more on the teenager part really.

Everyone gaped as the small petite bluenette cursed at them. Lila blinked in surprise before smirking smugly, hiding her smirk as she dipped her head low.

"I would be, but not really. Ya ni me va importar ese cuaderno," she says with a small tilt of her head.

Everyone in the class blinked, except for Nathaniel and Chloé. Sabrina stepped in a second later and paused to take in what's happening.

She was about to speak when Chloé shook her head, making her frown, but she stayed quiet.

Marinette raised an eyebrow, "don't really care for that sketchbook really. It wasn't at all tan importante. Not at all that important to be frank with y'all."

Everyone blinked in shock at what they heard the bluenette say.

"What do yo-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT IMPORTANT?! IT WAS YOUR SKETCHBOOK!" Alya screeched as she stood up.

Lila flinched and winced at the yell since Alya sat very close to her.

"It was a sketchbook yes, but not one that would break my heart if torn," the bluenette said with a shrug which shocked the class.

"Wait what," Nathaniel asked in shock making Mari lightly giggle before giving the class a shit eating grin.

"The sketchbook with all the designs that are worthwhile and deemed good are locked away at home in my room. I stopped bringing it to school a month after the hat contest," she said as she looked at her nails.

"The sketchbook with a rainbow poop emoji is for this class specifically. Specifically for the class members who demand for things for free, as well as class representative things."

Everyone in the classroom frown.

"What do you mean demand? We commission you for almost a lot of things," Ivan asked curiously.

He may have stopped being friends with the bluenette, but that didn't stop him from paying a commission early than necessary for things he needed since not many stores carried his size.

A few others nodded since they always commissioned the bluenette as well order a box or two full of pastries from the bakery when they wanted to bring a treat to the class that they have Marinette bring. However, only a few froze and sunk in their seats little at the implication.

Marinette raised her eyebrow at him and gestured with a nod towards Mylene, Alya, Kim, and Alix who all just sunk down in their seats from being called out.

Lila raised an eyebrow at the people who got called out.

Rose frowns as well did the rest of the class, "wait... hold up-"

"Wait... did you all four expect Marinette to make your stuff for free?" Nino asked in disbelief.

"It's just that she desi-"

"It doesn't matter if she's a designer Alya. Marinette may not be our friend anymore, but even if she was it doesn't mean to take advantage of the fact she designs clothes and other things," Rose said with a disappointed look on her face.

"Wait-"

"Don't worry to those who commissioned me, I have your commissions on a separate sketchbook and you all did the commission online so you're all good. I just need to work on them so that they can be finished in the intended date."

"THAT'S NOT FAIR! WHY-"

"Césiar she is wasting time on making things that you and the other three useless beings don't bother to commission that make her waste tons of material just to make your useless asses things that honestly none of the four of you really deserve to have made," Chloé bit out icily with a glare.

"But it's just small things! A dress here, a jacket here-"

"Yeah posters really," Kim interrupts Alya.

Chloé raised an eyebrow and smirked widely as she stepped towards her ex friend.

"Adrien, do tell how much a custom made design does your dear old dad charge someone."

Adrien blushed and mumbled softly.

"I'm sorry what?"

"$9,000 and that was for a simple black pantsuit with a a red rose stitched in one pocket," he said out loud. The blonde shaking a little, he had arrived a minute before Nathaniel so he didn't know what was going on until the commotion started.

Chloé hums and looks at her manicured nails.

"My mother would charge up to $3,000 depending on the 'simple' dress Alya asked for really. Up to 20 grand for the dresses Alya and Mylene basically demanded from you unless she had to hand sow herself," she said with a smug grin to the two girls that basically demanded Marinette to make them skirts among other things really.

The two girls paled as they realized how much money they basically would've saved if they hadn't ripped up the bluenette's sketchbook. Even if they basically demanded it to be made by her.

Alix paled as she realized that she demanded Marinette to design her a suit simply because she hated dresses. That would've cost her so much more than a simple measly $100 that she had somewhere really.

"B...but I need a dress for a date with Ivan!" she gasps out with wide eyes.

"So do I! I need a new skirt!" Alya growls out.

"Yeah too bad so sad, but you two are not going to get anything because my commissions are already full really," Marinette said.

"B...But the school's basketball's team needed new uniforms!" Kim out.

"That is a ridiculous thing you had asked of me Kim, even your basketball couch was appalled that you asked that of me," Marinette said with a raised eyebrow to her ex friend.

Kim blushed at the realization of what was said, "but-"

"Either way I gave him the number of a really nice cousin of mine, Carrie Ross-Snell. She does design for a living, but it's more of a hobby in the side to be honest. She doesn't mind really," she mumbles the last part.

"She gave him a good price really," she said out loud.

She really was going to have to thank the stars that Sue had used the bunny miraculous to have Carrie be placed in a new home when born after The Blood Prom occured. At least Fu saw it fit for the girl and her boyfriend see their error of their ways and wanting Carrie to have a happy childhood. Which led her to be adopted by Ms. Desjarden.

Their future P.E teacher. Who later married her uncle Chris.

Thank god Master Fu had been in a America for a short while when that happened.

At least Carrie was raised with love and was cared for. Even if she was still a very shy person.

"Either way I can't work on all the things that were on that journal, there were too many last minute demands you forced on me. They're gone, as well as the other things that were on that sketchbook," Marinette said with a shrug.

"W...what about fundraisers you promised to help?!" Alix screamed out.

The bluenette raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips, "I never promised anything at all Alix. You and Kim bitched about wanting help and that's it. I just told y'all good luck really," she told the now embarrassed two.

"B...but my outfit for Kitty Section!" Mylene cries out.

"Can't really work on it, it wasn't a commission, although the rest of y'all didn't commission for anything so I don't really have a reason to work on anything," Marinette said with a shrug.

The members of Kitty Section nodded, but then everyone who commissioned her froze. She had her schedule she stuck by so they knew she was already swamped and all internally groaned.

Those who never commissioned her didn't think what the matter was but remembered how much they had to have paid if they even ever asked for a commission.

They paled after that remembering what Adrien said.

The others internally groaned remembering that they had a few things they knew couldn't be worked on because they forgot about them.

Marinette shrugs, "I also had a few of the class representative things there, but oh well, can't do those anymore. As well a few things that only a few other people asked for."

Everyone frowned, but shrugged it off really as the bell rang for the school day to start.

Ms. Bustier walked in and sighs before looking at Marinette with a soft concerned look before sighing.

"During lunch class we will decide the new class representative. Marinette unfortunately has to pull out due to reasons," the teacher said with a weak smile.

Marinette smiles brightly at the teacher before going to her desk.

"What a shame, we could've gotten to go see Luther Inc. and Oscorp," she says to herself, but she said it out loud for people to hear.

All of them heard and felt their hearts break at what they just heard.

The class will soon realize that those who destroyed Marinette's sketchbook for the class fucked them all over.

Because not only did it have things for class representatives and such.

It had their schedules and other important dates that Marinette always believed and told them were very much important for them.

Something they honestly believed wasn't until the last minute and caused them to feel dread at the thought of them forgetting something or anything they had scheduled.

All because Alya and the other three decided to tear up Marinette's sketchbook.

The wrong one at that.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part fifteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±5200 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part fifteen: The sun rises and it’s time to bring the herd home, but not before Dean reconnects with an old friend. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Dean & Rocko scene: ‘Road To Perdition’ - The City Of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. Final scene: ‘Ride’ - Hans Zimmer. Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: It’s about damn time, ain’t it? Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​ and @winchest09​ for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     Slow hoofbeats, little rocks and earth crunching underneath the thousand pound animal. Surprisingly light on its feet, never disturbing the quiet, as it scours the land for the last grass of the season. Calm breaths, taking in over a gallon of oxygen with each inhalation, followed by a soft purring sound when the air is pushed out through the nose. The cold of the night lingers and the air condensates. The first glint of the sun catches the moist clouds coming from its nostrils, turning the fierce creature into a dragon. Kind eyes, calm when it’s safe, but scanning the environment nevertheless, always on the lookout for predators. Pointy ears, flitting back and forth independently, picking up even the smallest whisper, like two little space antennas scanning the sky. 

     Dean watches the herd from a distance, with Y/N still sound asleep in his arms. He can tell she’s exhausted, because she didn’t stir once in the past three hours. The cowboy made sure she was fully covered with the unzipped sleeping bag, holding her close to keep her warm. She seems so comfortable, so trusting; it humbles him. Apparently she’s completely at ease being so close, her self-consciousness burned away by his never ending adoration. Of course he noticed the hesitation when they all went for a swim yesterday evening. She wanted to disappear, covering herself with her arms crossed in front of her chest, her expression shameful. And then there was the insecurity just hours ago, her mind clearly spiraling when he couldn’t give her the confirmation she so desperately seeks. Dean wonders what happened for her to lack confidence. If she has some douchebag ex-boyfriend maybe, who didn’t treat her right. 

     Staying awake wasn’t any trouble overnight, because he had plenty to think about. He’s not the guy to analyse his every thought, he'd rather stuff it all down and ignore them all together. But spending several hours under the Yucca tree, in an embrace with the one person that has his mind reeling, left him no option. So many questions, so much doubt. He wishes he had more answers, he wishes he could have a glance into the future in order to tell if he’s on the right path. If he can make it work with her, if he can step up to become the man she’s looking for. If she will stay with him, even after the internship, because the thought of her leaving brings back an anxiety that he used to experience when his family threatened to fall apart, which is exactly what happened, eventually. He came to one conclusion, though; he’s not going to let her go. 

     His gaze remains absently fixed on the horses, who have moved a few hundred yards closer. The oldest stallion of the herd had spotted the wranglers about an hour ago, but after careful observation decided that they weren’t a threat. It’s a beautiful sight, beams peeking over the mountain range, framing the horses’ silhouettes with gold. Small bugs twirl in the air like fireflies, surrounding the large animals. Dean squints and tips his head forward when the rising sun becomes brighter. The warmth is welcome; he hasn’t moved an inch over the past hours, not wanting to wake Y/N, causing the cold to settle in his bones. 

     A new dawn means they’ve got work to do and Dean is left no choice but to wake the heavy sleeper. The arrival of morning does the job for him, however; even with her eyes closed, the light seeps through. It triggers her to turn into him and hide her face in the crook between his shoulder and his chest. Y/N grunts, disagreeing with the time, and Dean sniggers. He’s not much of a morning person either, but his intern takes the cake.      “Mornin’, Yankee.”       She opens one eye and looks up, meeting an amused yet adoring smile.       “Morning…” Groggy, she rubs her face with the back of her hand. “Five more minutes?”      “You’ll miss the view,” Dean says, nodding at the horizon.

     His eyes reflect the scenery he’s beholding, the colors vibrant as the sun hits them just right, adding amber to the jade in his irises. It peaks her interest, and Y/N turns her head to face the new day. Only leaving a crack for the light to pass her long lashes, she takes in the mesmerizing scenery. On the edges of her vision, a darker shade of blue transitions into a lighter one, the tones changing from cold to warm as they enclose the sun. Cirrus clouds catch the first rays, curling across the sky like wisps of silk hair. From cobalt to pale turquoise, from apricot to saffron. The painter of this picture used every color on the spectrum. And smack in the middle, the sun rises. So bright, she seems to be aware that planets orbit around her. The Superstition Mountains stand proud and tall in the south, the peaks catching the early light, making the volcanic formations seem blood orange, as if lava is erupting from the earth once again. 

     The herd is only a couple of hundred yards away now, grazing calmly. They don’t seem to  be aware of the humans sitting on the top of the hill, almost as if Y/N is in a cinema, watching a gigantic movie screen. It would explain the idyllic Wild West decor, because such magic can only be created with CGI in a Hollywood studio. But they are here. Y/N can smell the air, sweet and earthy. She can hear the wind rustling small bushes and blowing gently through the canyons. She can feel Dean, the warmth radiating from his large form that has enveloped her.       “It’s breathtaking,” she says softly, leaning into him.      He places a soft kiss on her hair, and she smiles, content.       “Thanks for letting me sleep.”      He shrugs it off. “You needed it. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”      Y/N sits up and rolls her neck to loosen her muscles.       “It’s going to be intense, isn’t it?” she guesses, getting to her feet.      “I’d call it adventurous and exciting,” Dean chuckles, stretching his back now that he can move freely again. “Just like the old spaghetti westerns, y’know? Well… without the gun slinging and bounty hunts. It’ll be awesome, trust me.”

     Y/N sniggers, strolling around the Yucca tree to meet her horse. She finds it cute how the tough cowboy, who’s closing in on thirty, is beaming like a little kid. After ruffling Joplin’s mane, she takes a small case from one of the saddlebags, which holds her toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. She has found a new level of appreciation for these simple products of hygiene, given that she has been stripped from luxury and has to do with the absolute necessary. Especially since she’s not just kissing Dean in her dreams these days.

     Looking forward to the day on his doorstep, Dean pulls his radio phone from the front saddlebag, turning it on and twisting the knob to find the channel.      “Benny? Come in?”      He lets go of the PTT button, the device beeping once when he does, then it’s quiet for a moment. Mirroring Y/N’s actions, he one handedly fishes out his toothbrush as well, but when his friend doesn’t respond, he pushes the talk button again.      “You better get your lazy ass out of bed, Lafitte. Gotta bring the horses in.”      Dean clips the radio to his belt. He has brushed his teeth, rinsed his mouth and cleaned his face by the time the farrier replies.      “Good mornin’ to you too, Chief.”      Dean grins at the slightly cynical tone of the Southerner. He pushes the button again, moving the speaker closer to his mouth.       “We’re with the herd, on Black Top Mesa, close to Dutchman’s Trailhead. Ya’ll ready to move?”      “Sure am, just cooking up some breakfast to go. Do you want some or did you already eat out?”

     Y/N has never timed taking a sip of water worse, because it comes out through both her mouth and nose. Dean stares at her mortified before he snaps the walkie talkie to his mouth.      “She can hear ya, you jackass!” he returns, his voice higher than he anticipated.      “Oh, I bet she can.”      The head wrangler shuts his eyes and cringes, turning away from Y/N to hide his red face. His free hand goes for his belt loop first, then rubs the back of his neck, before wiping the sweat on the denim of his jeans. Shit, this is embarrassing.       “I - I - We… You know what? I don’t owe you an explanation,” he hisses into the radio phone.      “I’m just saying, brother, if you haven’t yet, it’s gonna take us at least forty five minutes to get to ya, so--”      “- Over and out, Benny!”

     Quickly, he turns the device off, breathes out, and scoffs. That son of a bitch. Dean isn’t sure how he’s going to make Benny pay just yet, but he will taste his wrath. He carefully glances over his shoulder to check on Y/N, who he finds with her hand clasped over her mouth, trying her very best to contain her giggles.      “You think that’s funny, huh?” he mutters, flustered.      She laughs warm and hearty, wiping tears from her eyes as she approaches the cowboy.      “You don’t need enemies with friends like him, that’s a given,” she chuckles.

     He glances at her, his mouth pulling into a smile. She can spot a hint of relief, now that he knows she’s taking it well, but blood still warms his cheeks, making his freckles invisible. It amazes her every single time how all that confidence washes away once he loses direction. Benny was just teasing him, Dean must be aware of that. Besides, it’s not like the green eyed wrangler to take things easy, as he said so himself, so it’s not strange his Southern friend figured he covered at least a couple of bases overnight. She can feel a blush add color to her face as well, when the thought crosses her mind. Honestly, she too silently hoped he would have gone ‘down that road’. 

     “Well, unfortunately he assumed wrong,” she addresses boldly, taking the collar of his stockman coat gently between her thumb and index finger, reeling him in. “But he was right about them taking at least forty five minutes to get here.”      Stunned eyes flick over her features, wondering if he’s imagining things or if she really just gained the confidence he’s lacking at this very moment. Once again she blows him off his feet with her newfound assertiveness, like she does every so often. Shit, she’s sexy when she takes the lead like that.       “He sure was,” he returns, his hands now moving to her waist.      “I know we agreed to take it easy,” she tilts her head slightly, folding her arms around his neck now. “So what should we do with all that time?”

     Dean smirks at her from under his hat, shaking his head amused without breaking eye contact. What a tease. He couldn’t resist her to save his own life. Her radiance is brighter than the rising sun behind her. The pull he’s experiencing, the level of attraction, it’s so strong; he knows he’s going to have a tough time sticking to his boundaries. He has to, though, he has to do right by her. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a little fun along the way.      “I got a few ideas,” he implies.      Before Y/N knows it, the strong wrangler lifts her up, pulling a squeal from within her, followed by a fit of giggles. He adjusts his grip when she folds her legs around his middle, smothering her sly grin with a sweet kiss. The low chuckle that escapes his throat sounds both gentle and gruff, adding to the wholesome sensation that fills her chest.       By the Yucca tree, he lowers himself to the ground, still holding the cowgirl in his arms until she has found her balance and straddles his lap, a knee buried in the gravelly sand on either side of him. The intimate connection strengthens as they get lost in the moment, the laughs dying down, eyes falling shut. 

     Dean lets his fingers wander over the fabric of her clothes, tracing the lines of her neck, her spine, the curves of her hips. Feeling no pressure that this needs to lead somewhere right now calms him, because even though it’s proven to be difficult to keep their hands off each other, he knows she will give him the space he needs and, despite this little tease, she respects him more than he respects himself.       He makes a little mental note when she whimpers, as he continues to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of her mouth, down her throat and her collarbone. Dean might not go down on the beautiful cowgirl today, but he will remember the little touches that make her sigh and squirm. 

     Their agreement to take it slow, combined with Benny’s remark, sparked something new. Since their first kiss, she has been willing, eager for more, but now that what she wants is just out of reach, she finds it difficult to control herself. He can tell in the way she touches him, the audible breaths that reach his hearing when their mouths aren’t sealed together, the longing in her eyes when she opens them for a brief second. Dean never thought he would say it, but taking their time might have an advantage he hadn’t considered before. Teasing him, tempting her… it’s an interesting way to pass the time. Making each other wait might feel like a torturous game right now, but when the moment does arrive for them to take things to the next level, it’s going to be something else. And just like that, the bachelor who didn’t waste a second to get around with so many women, doesn’t mind waiting for the one.

     The two lay together for at least half an hour, making out like teenagers. Sweet touches, cute giggles, all smiles. If they could freeze time, they would. But when Dean glances north and notices the dust clouds coming from La Barge Canyon, they have to interrupt the intimacy; Benny and the others are on their way.

     Five minutes later, Dean shrugs off his long coat, now that the sun has cast out the crisp of the night. He folds it up tightly and stuffs it into one of his saddlebags. Y/N has already mounted Joplin, at home in the Tucker trail saddle. The mare didn’t entirely awaken from her slumber apparently, because for once in her life, she stands still and doesn’t bounce around impatiently like a bronc in the holding box at the rodeo. Her rider has her wrists crossed on the horn, the reins casually between her fingers, as she stares at the herd ahead.       “That’s the leader, isn’t it?” she says.

     Dean turns his head, looking at the dark bay horse, who stands between them and his congeners. The animal stares back, ears perked forward, one of them flicking back to the herd every now and them. The stallion observes him carefully, he doesn’t seem entirely sure how to deal with the presence of humans. He’s alert, ready to bolt and take his herd to safety, yet at the same time curious. Understandable, because these youngsters spent most of their life living as feral horses, only seeing men when they were moved from the reservation to the large winter pastures closer to the ranch, and back to the mountains when spring was around the corner.       “Yeah, seems like it,” Dean confirms, watching the beautiful creature.      He returns his gaze to the task at hand, tying the sleeping bag behind Ted’s saddle, but then realization hits him. Wait a minute, is that…? The wrangler turns to face the interested horse again, who is looking at him from about two hundred yards away, like he seems to recognize the cowboy as well.      Y/N glances from the wrangler to the horse and back. “Dean?”

     But he doesn’t respond, slowly stepping away from Ted, narrowing his eyes to see better. The horse’s mane grew long, his forelock covering his face, the black hair growing all the way down to his nose, but a hint of a blaze still visible through the curtain. Dark brown eyes take Dean in as the stallion waits, so still that one could mistake him for a statue, save the wind playing with his tail. The low vegetation hides the white markings on his legs, so the wrangler can’t tell for sure. It can’t be. He couldn’t have grown that big, he wouldn’t be the alpha, he reminds himself. But besides the horse’s size and rank within the herd, there’s nothing that indicates the animal, isn’t him. 

     Dean moves his hand to his mouth, pressing the tabs of his thumb and index finger together, creating a circle, before he places them on his lips. He inhales and whistles sharply. The sheer, high-pitched sound moves across the land, reaching ears miles away. The ears the whistle was meant for, pick up the unique sound too and instantly the caution and doubt in the horse’s stance is gone. He neighs back, loud and strong, confirming Dean’s suspicion.      “Well, I’ll be damned…” he breathes.      “You two know each other?” Y/N wonders.      Dean beams. “Yeah, we go way back.”

     He leaves Ted and Y/N on top of the hill, carefully making his way down the slope without spooking the feral horse. But the stallion doesn’t feel threatened anymore, now that he recognizes Dean. He jogs up to him, taking a few more steps before he halts. Friendly eyes take in the wrangler, his nostrils flaring when Dean tentivally reaches, picking up his scent. As a content smile spreads across Dean’s face, he lets his fingertips brush the horse’s nose, soft as velvet. He takes another step, gliding the palm of his hand up his jaw now, to his cheek and then down his neck, following the flow of the horse’s dark hair. The short summer coat has already partly been replaced, now that the cold of winter will arrive in a month or so.       Last time Dean saw him, he was barely two years old. A youngster, a boney juvenile, who was a tad small. Obviously the fellow needed more time. That’s why the wrangler gave his horse another year to grow. It worked out well, because look at him now.      “Hey, bud,” Dean says softly, ruffling the horse’s mane. “You got big.”

     From a distance, Y/N watches the reunion. She doesn’t know the whole story, but the connection between man and animal is unmistakably strong. They have a place in each other’s hearts and even though they have been apart for a while, that didn’t change. The leader of the herd, who one would expect to be dominant, accepts a human touch without hesitation. It’s an unusual response for a horse who has lived off the grid for years. 

     Warmth fills her chest, a smile on her lips, similar to the one Dean carries. It’s incredible to witness him around the animals that captivate them both. She has enjoyed his interactions many times before, watching him handle them on the ground, seeing him ride. Always kind, always respectful. He has a way with horses that is special. Her grandfather would have said he’s gifted. He also would have given her a thumbs up. Grandpa always offered wise words, often followed by silence, the quiet giving them even more strength. One of his sayings comes to mind: You can judge a man’s character by the way he treats his horses. Well then, if that’s a given, then Dean is definitely one of the kindest and most loving souls she has come across.

     The wrangler rubs the stallion’s shoulder, before he slowly turns around. He tries to beckon the beautiful dark horse with a simple shoulder movement, using only body language to invite the large animal to follow him. After a moment of hesitation, during which the stallion glances at his herd and back at his human, he follows. No rope, no pressure, no constraint, but free will. It’s hard to miss the pleased expression on Dean’s face when he looks up at the cowgirl, who still watches from Joplin’s back.      “I know country boys aren’t known for manners, but aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” she jokes.

     The stallion stops at the bottom of the small hill, aware that as the leader of his group, he still has a task to fulfill. He stands tall, checking on the herd, the autumn breeze catching his tangled mane, folding his tail around his hind legs. He looks almost mythical.      “His name is Rock N’ Roll.” Dean takes him in, proudly. “But he goes by Rock’o.”      “Is he yours?” she asks, curiously.      The wrangler nods. “I was there when he was born. He had a rough start in life. I bottle fed him the first couple of months.”      Amazed, she smiles at him. “No wonder you two are close.”             He returns her expression, taking a moment to absorb the image of both the woman who is conquering his heart, and his horse who already claimed it years ago.       “It’s gonna be much easier to bring in the herd with him on our side,” Dean says, moving to Ted’s left side, after which he puts his foot in the stirrup and swings the other over the saddle. “We have to handle it delicately, but he trusts me.”      “You think he will follow you?” Y/N assumes, keeping Joplin on the spot, who seems to have woken up from her nap, now that Dean mounted his horse as well.      “No, but he will keep the herd together. It's a misconception that the stallion leads the group. They are usually in the rear, driving up stragglers,” Dean explains.

     The head wrangler glances over his shoulder at the growing dust cloud, an indication that Benny and the rest of the crew are closing in. Within a minute, he spots the four riders and their pack horses coming over the hill. The mischievous grin on the Southerner’s face can be spotted from far away.      “Had a nice mornin’ ride, Chief?” he nags under his breath, once he has joined the two riders.      Dean shoots him a glare, his fiery green eyes demanding him to shut up without using actual words. Y/N heard the farrier, however, and no one is prepared for the comeback.      “Oh, we didn’t have time. Forty-five minutes isn’t nearly enough for what I had in mind,” she counters casually.

     Dean snorts, caught by surprise, while Benny cocks his head at the intern, staring at her bug-eyed. Y/N doesn’t give the the blue-eyed cowboy another second of her attention and leads her horse to Ted, her fingertips briefly touching Dean’s thigh as she passes him, before she rides down the hill, her head held high.      Amused, the head wrangler waits for his friend to catch the wide grin on his face, which he does once Benny snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head sniggering, his laugh rumbling deep and low in his chest.      “Brother, you are in way over your head,” he states. “She’s a pistol.”      Dean admittingly raises his brow, nodding in agreement while watching her ride off.      “She sure is.” 

     “Yah!”      In full gallop Y/N speeds up along the left flank of the herd, directing the horses back to a compact group every time they fan out. Benny and Macy are leading, Dean tailing, while Brad and Jon cover the right side. The head wrangler wasn’t lying when he said that it was going to be exciting, because she feels like she’s living a Wild West fantasy. 

     Joplin has her ears in her neck as she sprints away, cutting off two stallions who fan out. Her rider doesn’t even have to give a signal, the feisty dark mare knows exactly what to do. Even though she is smaller than the others, she stands her ground and didn’t think twice when one of the juvenile stallions took an interest in her. With a squeal and a firm kick she made clear not to mess with her, her zero-tolerance attitude keeping them at a safe distance. Y/N had a hunch Joplin was good at the job, otherwise Dean wouldn’t have chosen the strong minded horse for his intern, but she didn’t expect her partner to be this fierce. Unflagging, focussed, and fast as a bullet. It’s an absolute thrill to work with her.

     They pursued the herd into O’Grady Canyon, the higher cliffs on both sides helping the wranglers keep them together. They passed the rock formations of Tim’s Saddle and Dean and Y/N briefly exchanged a look and a smile as they crossed the small creek. Revisiting the place where they shared their first kiss only two days ago feels special, that night’s energy still in the air. So much has happened since, and yet their journey has only just begun. 

     After a quick drinking pause, they continued, before the herd could fall apart. Some of the animals are restless, while others follow a lot more calmly. Using horses instead of dirt bikes or even a helicopter is a lot less stressful for the feral animals, but being chased makes them nervous nonetheless. Rocko’s laid back attitude towards the humans keeps the panic in the herd contained to a minimum, though. 

     Thankfully, the weather is working in their favor for a change. A cool breeze is sweeping across the terrain and swishing through the canyons, keeping the temperature from rising to the heights it reached in the past couple of days. It’s a good thing the conditions are a lot more tolerable, because the riding is intense. The wind, together with the stampede, does kick up a lot of sand, engulfing the wranglers in clouds of earthy particles. Dean, being at the back of the herd, has pulled his neckerchief over his nose, keeping the dust from entering his lungs. 

     Halfway through the afternoon, the wranglers have managed to guide the group of horses safely down the slopes on the east banks of the Superstitions. A time consuming detour, but crossing the mountains without a herd is challenging enough, not to mention with over a dozen wild animals added to the clan. After descending the much smoother slopes for hours on end, the canyon functioning as a tunnel and relieving the pressure from the riders, the walls on either side fan out. Before them lays the valley, the small town of Gold Canyon in the far distance to the west, the sun edging towards it as the day begins to close in on the night. 

     “Yankee!”      It’s Dean who gets her attention, his voice rising above the sound of the stampede. Y/N turns in the saddle while she continues to follow the movement of her horse with her hips. Behind her, three young stallions have wandered away from the group in a matter of seconds. Joplin hasn’t noticed them yet, fixed on holding the flank ahead, but when her rider moves her hand to the left, she rolls away like a fighter jet. The little dark mare needs no encouragement and is at full speed within five strides, shooting across the terrain at a speed of forty miles an hour. Y/N has bent over Joplin’s neck, staying low in order to increase the aerodynamics. The fast rhythmic sound of hoofbeats tremor the ground, the wind rushes in her ears and drags tears from the corners of her eyes. The two cut off the youngsters, redirecting them back to the herd like they have been doing this together for years. Y/N’s partner in crime pushes her ears back and snaps her teeth, not so kindly advising the horses to hurry it up or else, triggering her rider to grin at her feisty character. Once the three join the others, the cowgirl lets out a cheer, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Dean was absolutely right, this is just like a spaghetti western. 

     They ride along the promontory of the mountains to their right, roughly following the Lost Goldmine trail. By the time the company passes a volcanic remnant called Turk’s Head, the sky begins to change, adding orange to the blues. A glance at her old watch tells her it’s 5.10 PM. Three days ago she kept feeling her back pocket for her phone whenever she needed to know the time, or felt the urge to check her messages, but not having her Iphone with her turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Who would want to stare at a screen and miss all the good stuff? 

     Ted’s strides are long and consistent, not a trace of fatigue noticeable with the bay gelding. From behind the group, Dean should have a good overview, if it wasn’t for the dust clouds obstructing his vision. The small particles cling to his skin, his lashes, the fabric of his clothes. He can still see the boys holding their ground well on the right, the steep slopes running up into the peaks of the Flatiron assisting them, working as a funnel. Benny and Macy are keeping a good pace; if they continue at this speed, they will be home before dinner. Y/N is doing outstanding on the other flank, forming a dream team with eager little Joplin. Thankfully, Dean has eyes up ahead, because the radio on his belt begins to crack.      “Two miles to go, Chief!”      Dean takes the radio phone and presses the PTT button before he answers.      “Let’s bring them home, brother.”

     With his thumb he twists the channel nob, switching to number four, before he calls in again. They should be within the perimeter now. “Bobby, do you read me?”      It’s quiet for a moment, but then the static breaks.      “Loud and clear, son.”      The head wrangler smiles, glad to be delivering good news after three days and nights filled with nerve wrecking moments. Treacherous terrain, suffocating heat. Drought, snakes, minor injuries.       “We’re comin’ in hot. Thirty minutes.”      “The gates are open. I’ll tell Ellen to put the casserole in the oven.”      Dean’s mouth begins to water when his aunt’s famous dish is mentioned. No disrespect to Benny, but after all that canned food, he can’t wait to sink his teeth into that delicious corn, beef, and onion stocked, stomach filling meal.      “In that case, I’ll make it twenty. Over.”      “We’re ready for ya. Over and out.”

     The head wrangler hooks the radio back on his belt and glances aside. Rocko is galloping about thirty yards to his left, ahead by a few nose lengths. Sweat shimmers on his neck and shoulders, his dark bay coat almost black now. With big, powerful strides he pushes forward like a steam train, yet agile, maneuvering past rocks, cacti, and bushes. Even untrained, he has grown into a strong horse. Dean can’t wait to work with him. To strengthen that bond even more, to teach him. Watching the stallion by his side and under Dean’s wing as it were, fills him with pride already. It’s at this moment that Dean realizes; this horse is going to be something else.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part sixteen here

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 13 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n:guess who’s realised she never submitted this to AQ? it’s ya boi. if u haven’t been able to read this yet then here it is, and look out for the final chapter coming soon! thank u to everyone who’s ever sent this fic some love, it means the world to me!!

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

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

***

6th December 2020

Vanessa’s in the wine aisle of Marks and Spencers when she sees her again.

Her hair’s been dyed- she already knew that, she’s seen pictures of it on her Insta feed- and the demure tones of the honey-brown balayage are a contrast to the blonde ombré she’d had when they’d been together, but it suits her. She’s in sweatpants and a cropped jumper, because of course she is, and Vanessa recognises the matching pink set emblazoned with the Playboy logo from Missguided adverts on bus shelters. She’s wearing some form of chunky white trainers and Vanessa isn’t proud of the fact that she feels a little flame of satisfaction light up in her gut when she sees that they’re splattered with mud, contrasting with her clean outfit and perfect makeup.

Vanessa turns back to the green bottles in front of her, staring at them for so long and with such intensity that she thinks she might rip the fabric of reality in two. She consciously blocks out her peripheral vision so that all she can see is the label of one bottle of white which she reads over and over again. A light, dry white with citrus notes and lively green fruit flavours. Grown in the spectacular setting of the sun ripened vineyards of central Spain. Goes with fish, chicken and salads.

She doesn’t, in any way, shape or form, know how to play this situation, because this is the first time she’s seen Kameron in person since they decided to call it quits. One one hand she could just keep staring at the wine bottle, attempt to blend into the shelves via osmosis and completely avoid her ex, but on the other hand…Vanessa doesn’t really know what the other hand is, because she doesn’t know what a conversation between the two of them would look like. There’s a part of her that wants to find out.

And suddenly, with a cry that Vanessa recognises as hers, the decision is made for her.

“Vanjie?”

Slowly, timidly, Vanessa turns around to meet her eyes. Soft, brown eyes that Vanessa had once looked into and seen her whole world and future.

God, it’s fucking crazy how she used to be so in love with her and now she feels completely apathetic.

“Kam! Hey,” Vanessa smiles tightly, waving awkwardly with the hand she’s not holding her shopping basket with. “How are you?”

“I’m fine! Well, actually, not amazing. I tried to make this really fancy, complex coq au vin for dinner last night but I don’t know what the hell I did wrong because it tasted like fucking ass. So I’m here getting ingredients again because Mama didn’t raise a quitter. It’ll probably still taste like garbage though, you know what I’m like,” Kameron reels off, which makes Vanessa smile in spite of herself. Kam was never the best at cooking and it was usually Vanessa who made the dinners when they were together, but there were still a couple of times when she’d tried at something and had failed spectacularly. Kameron seems to pick up on what she’d said as a little look of discomfort flashes in her eyes before she follows her sentence up with, “How’re you? God, it’s been ages.”

“It has,” Vanessa shrugged a little. So much has changed since they’ve last spoken that Vanessa isn’t really sure where to start. “I’m good. Things are pretty great, really. Obviously had a good run on the show for my first year competing, so hopefully I’ll get a partner next year too an’ win it next time.”

“I know, you did so well! I was really shocked you didn’t make the semis at least,” Kameron frowns, and the flattery does admittedly soften Vanessa up a little. Kameron’s face lights up as she adds, “God, your girl was so amazing though too! Brooke Lynn Hytes, right? She was super talented. Now I know how good a dancer she is I can’t help but feel like she’s sort of wasted as a presenter.”

“Yeah, she’s incredible,” Vanessa nods emphatically, unable to help the heat she feels spreading to her cheeks whenever she gets to talk about Brooke with somebody. Kameron’s expression changes a little as she clocks Vanessa’s blush, and a cheeky glint appears in her eye. Vanessa frowns. “Hey. Behave.”

“I didn’t say a word!” Kameron laughs, and as she trails off there’s a smile on her face that’s affectionate and helps Vanessa warm up to her ex even more. “Listen, what’re your plans? I’d honestly love to catch up. It’s been too long.”

Vanessa tilts her head in thought. The conversation isn’t going too badly, and her only plans are going round to Brooke’s later on to watch the semi-final results and have dinner (hence the reason she’s gone to M&S to get wine and not the Tesco Metro round the corner from her). So Vanessa surprises herself when she shrugs, giving Kameron a little nod. “Okay, yeah. Lemme get this wine and then we can get coffee.”

The way Kameron’s face lights up makes Vanessa think that her decision was the correct one.

They’re sat at a little table at the window of a nondescript coffee shop roughly ten minutes later, Kameron stirring the hell out of a vanilla latte that’s sat in front of her and creating a tiny whirlpool in the coffee that puts Vanessa in mind of a Pirates of the Carribean movie. Kameron’s talking about the flat she’s in just now- she bought it after she rented for a while when she moved out of Vanessa’s place- and how furniture is so expensive.

“I mean I could just go to IKEA and just furnish the entire thing for, like, two grand, but I actually want some really nice stuff, you know? Like it’s a big girl professional flat, not a uni rental,” she screws her face up as she finally takes a sip. Vanessa bristles a little opposite her- she knows Kam doesn’t mean it, but Vanessa wants to remind her that most of her furniture is from IKEA, because they’d gone and bought it all together when they first moved in. Kameron doesn’t seem affected, though, and keeps talking. “What about you? You still living out at Finsbury Park?”

Vanessa nods. “I’m still in the same flat, I never moved.”

A look of shock passes over Kameron’s face and Vanessa can read her like a book- the fact she’s still in that flat where they made so many memories together is obviously surprising. Vanessa can’t help but laugh. “Kameron, chill. You don’t roam the fuckin’ halls like a ghost, I don’t burst into tears whenever I go into a room. It’s a decent flat at a decent price, I wanted to keep it.”

“Right. Sorry. Ego check,” Kameron smiles sheepishly, and Vanessa feels bad for poking fun at her. Kameron perks up after a second, laughs a little. “I like how you said ‘halls’ plural. Like it’s a stately home and not a fucking matchbox with an intercom system.”

Vanessa’s taking a sip of her own hot chocolate and she almost chokes on it in a laugh, Kameron howling and slapping the table in response. Vanessa’s forgotten that Kam used to make her laugh, still can. She always used to see it like some sort of secret privilege she had access to, the quiet girl’s funny side rare and only popping out on special occasions. That hasn’t changed over the years.

“How’s work, anyway?” Vanessa asks her as she composes herself. Kameron shrugs easily.

“Pretty good. I did a Dua Lipa music video the other week, that should be coming out in a month or so.”

“Is she actually as bad a dancer as that video made her out to be?”

Kameron smirks. “She had a shit choreographer; she’s actually alright. Not pop girl standard, but you know. My agent’s trying to get me on the Blackpink tour next, so I should hear back from that soon.”

Vanessa’s glad that work hasn’t dried up for Kameron- the backing dancer industry is treating her well.

“Anyway,” Kameron bats her lashes, looking at Vanessa coyly from behind her glass. “Tell me more about this dance partner of yours, miss.”

Vanessa feels herself blush, a bashful laugh escaping her lips before she can stop it. It’s weird- after they first broke up Vanessa always used to think she’d love the chance to rub her ex’s face in a new relationship, but it feels ever so slightly odd now she’s actually about to talk about Brooke in front of her. “Honestly, we’re just seeing each other and keeping things casual. Y’know, while the series is still goin’. We’re not even official or public.”

“Yet,” Kameron smiles cheekily at her, and Vanessa can’t suppress the smile she returns to her.

“Okay, yet. But it’s going really well. I really like her. She’s sweet, an’ she’s caring, an’ she’s the best listener.”

“And she won’t be a fucking idiot and cheat on you.”

“No, I don’t think she will,” Vanessa shrugs, the fact that Kameron’s brought the situation up casting a small grey cloud over the conversation. It’s clunky and awkward, a puzzle piece jammed in a place it shouldn’t be. It’s been brought up now though, so Vanessa grimaces and adds, “But then I never thought you would, either.”

Kameron’s face screws up in regret, and before Vanessa knows it she’s rested a hand on top of hers and is giving her a tentative smile. “I know I said it about twenty million times when we were together but I’m honestly so sorry, Vanessa. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Kam, you gotta stop beatin’ yourself up about it,” Vanessa cuts in and says swiftly. Her own words shock her; they’ve come from virtually nowhere, and she’s amazed at the raw sympathy she’s just shown her. “You were drunk, it was a kiss. Strictly is…it’s a weird show. You saw him more hours in the day than you saw me. Kisses between partners happen all the time, it just…sucks that it happened between you two.”

Kameron nods quietly, and Vanessa puts her other hand on top of hers. “I forgive you. Give yourself a break.”

Kameron squeezes her hand, shoots her a soft smile. “Thanks, Vanjie.”

They let go of each other’s hands and each take a sip of their own drink, the silence between them somewhat symbolic like someone wiping words off a whiteboard. Vanessa watches as Kameron swallows a gulp of her coffee and grins. “Hey, do me a solid and put in a good word with Asia O’Hara for me, okay? I really want to slide into her DMs but I need some context first.”

“Your face can be the context, fuckin’ look in a mirror,” Vanessa snorts, and the two of them laugh together.

It’s nice. This huge, big, massive event she’s built up in her head for all these months is happening- she’s bumped into Kameron and she’s speaking to her. She doesn’t need to build it up anymore, or wonder about how it would play out because she’s living it, it’s playing out and she never has to see Kameron for the first time since they broke up ever again. A wall crumbles down in her mind without warning and once the dust settles she realises that she feels somewhat lighter.

Vanessa has been carrying this burden around with her for all this time without even having known it.

The pair of them eventually finish up- hug goodbye outside the coffee shop and tell each other how nice this all had been and then go their separate ways. They don’t promise to keep in touch, but Vanessa knows they’ll probably like each others’ Instagram posts or occasionally tweet each other support or that kind of thing now. Little things that remind them they’re still on good terms.

As Vanessa heads to the tube, her mind drifts to Brooke and how excited she is to see her. The week has been long and Brooke’s been busy, but true to her word she’s messaged Vanessa whenever she’s had a spare moment, updating her on her day and asking her about her own. On Tuesday she’d invited Vanessa round to her flat on Sunday night as she has a day off on Monday and they can spend the night together. She’s not just abandoned her or left her hanging, and if there’s about to be a gap between her messages she always pre-warns her. Brooke’s treating her well. Almost like a girlfriend. Exactly like a girlfriend.

Vanessa still doesn’t know what they really are. She’s so far told herself that that’s alright, but now they’re out of the competition that answer isn’t really satisfying her any more. She wants to call Brooke hers, she wants to be with her properly. As Brooke’s apartment building comes into view, Vanessa wonders if she’ll bring it up tonight.

As she buzzes Brooke’s intercom, though, Brooke’s tone throws everything into a tailspin.

“Hello?”

Vanessa frowns. Brooke sounds ever-so-slightly icy and fed up. She wonders if she’s imagined it. “Uh, hey! It’s Vanessa.”

“Hey. Come up.”

As the door buzzes open and Vanessa steps into the building, she waves away the thoughts in her head. She’s probably overthinking things, and as she steps into the elevator and lets herself be carried up to Brooke’s 12th floor apartment Vanessa tries to calm her nerves. It’s the first time she’s been to Brooke’s flat- in fact it’s the first time either of them have been at either of their flats- so she’s a little anxious. It’s another layer of the relationship they’re adding on, and the thought of things getting a little more serious makes Vanessa’s heart flutter.

So her head is thrown into a tailspin when the elevator doors open onto a landing and she’s met with three doors- two closed, and the other (Brooke’s, a little gold 111 set into the smooth grey exterior) is ever so slightly ajar. Vanessa narrows her eyes, tentatively stepping out of the lift, crossing the hall, and pushing the door open a little.

“Brooke Lynn?”

Brooke’s voice replies, still something to it that Vanessa can’t quite work out. “I’m in here.”

Frowning, Vanessa steps through the doorway and into Brooke’s flat. The whole situation is so strange that she can barely take in everything she sees; a long, narrow hallway lined with high heels that leads down to what looks like a sunken living room with a cream sofa and a floor-to-ceiling view of London. There’s a room to the right halfway down the hall, though, and it seems to be where Brooke’s voice came from, so Vanessa closes the front door and hears the click of the lock behind her as she follows it. Maybe she’s in the middle of something. Maybe she’s just busy and she wants Vanessa’s company while she finishes whatever it is she’s doing.

And then, as Vanessa turns into the room, the situation becomes immediately apparent.

Brooke’s bedroom is dark- the blinds are drawn and the only light comes from a few candles that are sitting on the tidy grey dressing-table under the window and the soft pink salt lamp that sits on the bedside table. The large bed pushed up against the wall takes up most of the room, and its sheets are white and perfectly ironed and crease-free.

They serve as a perfect backdrop to the sight that’s currently greeting Vanessa- Brooke, in a matching set of black Calvin Klein underwear, curled up against the pillows and scrolling her phone. The dark material makes Brooke’s pale skin pop, and the sight of her toned thighs and stomach forces Vanessa to squeeze her thighs together in spite of herself. Brooke looks up as she enters the room and smiles smugly, clearly happy to get the reaction Vanessa’s given her.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says, her voice light and sing-song and making the entire situation worse because the fact she’s so perfectly put-together while Vanessa is slowly becoming a melting, gooey mess in front of her is, for some reason, only making her want to rip Brooke’s clothes off even more than she already does. “Come sit.”

She gently pats the space on the bed next to her and Vanessa almost knocks herself out kicking her trainers off and letting her jacket fall to the floor as she scrambles up onto the bed. She feels herself blush as Brooke gives a soft laugh (presumably in response to just how eager she is) then decides she doesn’t really care how she’s coming across as Brooke leans in and closes the gap between them, kisses her with soft Chapstick lips that Vanessa feels as if she’s addicted to. Vanessa expects the kiss to be more than it is- flames of seductive fire that make one thing lead to another all too quickly- but instead it feels as if Brooke is deliberately holding back, teasing her a little. It’s not helping Vanessa’s desperation at all, and just as she brings a hand up to rest on Brooke’s hip, Brooke breaks the kiss.

“So,” Brooke begins cryptically, as she reaches for her phone where she’d discarded it against the sheets. “I was just scrolling Instagram, you know, as you do. And, uh, I felt a little bit confused.”

Vanessa frowns in tandem with Brooke, who finally appears to reach the post she’s been looking for. Brooke’s voice keeps its light tone as she continues. “Because apparently, according to these photos…it looks like you had a cute little reunion date with your ex today?”

Vanessa’s heart drops as Brooke turns her phone to show her the long-lens photograph posted by The Sun’s Instagram account. It’s her and Kameron at the coffee shop window, taken at the exact moment that Kameron had reached out and taken her hand and Vanessa had shot her a forgiving smile and taken hers in return, probably the most affection they’ve shown each other in a whole year.

But Jesus Christ, has it been taken out of context and then some.

She’s panicking, and she can feel her mouth opening and closing rapidly as she attempts to explain herself. The one saving grace about the whole situation is that Brooke appears to be���calm? Relaxed? She’s not flown off the handle, anyway, which Vanessa wouldn’t exactly have expected, and there’s also the fact she’s in a matching underwear set so clearly can’t be that mad at her. So Vanessa finally finds her voice, tells Brooke everything- how she’d only bumped into Kameron in the shop, and how it was just a coffee and nothing more, and how she’d actually finally received closure for everything that had happened between the two of them.

As she speaks, part of Vanessa wants to bring up the fact that she and Brooke aren’t even together together, so why Brooke’s so pressed about all of this Vanessa doesn’t know.

Unless Brooke wants them to be more than what they already are. And Vanessa has fucked it.

Shit.

“It’s just all a massive misunderstandin’, honestly,” Vanessa finishes, and she’s relaxing a little more now that Brooke’s body language is warmer. “I maybe should’ve texted you but I was gonna tell you tonight anyway, I promise. I wouldn’t…I just wouldn’t mess you about like that, Brooke.”

Brooke slowly lets a bashful smile creep across her face as she nods softly. “Okay.”

And, just because she can, Vanessa pulls her in for another kiss. This time there’s a little more heat to it which makes Vanessa’s stomach flutter in anticipation, but she still feels as if Brooke’s holding back. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers how Brooke had told her she liked being in control, how much Brooke got off on hearing her beg for what she wanted the first time they’d slept together, and it all falls into place.

Oh.

Before Vanessa can say anything, Brooke’s trailing her hand from its position cupping Vanessa’s jaw down her body to rest on her waist, and Vanessa’s mouth goes ever-so-slightly dry. Brooke’s face is still close as she speaks again. “See I thought that would be the case, because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

Vanessa responds by mirroring Brooke’s touches, resting her own hand against her exposed thigh and delighting as she watches something darken behind Brooke’s eyes. Her tone changes a little as she continues. “But it did get me thinking…what if you did forget how good you had it one day?”

“Won’t happen,” Vanessa shakes her head, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth as Brooke pushes up the hem of her oversized white t-shirt, rests the palm of her hand against the bare skin at her waist. Vanessa squeezes her legs together again and she watches as Brooke flicks her gaze down, suppresses a smirk badly.

“It won’t?” Brooke pouts mockingly, and Vanessa loves it. “Well, just in case…I thought I’d show you what you’d miss if you ever did think you could do better than me.”

“Fuck,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking in a hiss, as Brooke tugs at the bottom of her top and removes it quickly without Vanessa having to do anything other than raise her hands above her head.

Brooke dips her down so that her head’s resting against the pillows and presses kisses to Vanessa’s jaw, neck, collarbone, right down to the lace of her bra. Vanessa’s pulse is racing and she finds herself already spreading her legs, unable to help the way she needs Brooke to touch her.

“God, you’re so needy,” Brooke tuts disapprovingly into her skin, briefly reaching her hands under Vanessa’s back in an attempt to unhook her bra. Vanessa’s stomach tenses as she lifts herself off the mattress to help her, and soon the bra that she spent entirely too long picking out this morning is thrown halfway across the room onto the dark wood of Brooke’s bedroom floor.

“Says the girl that’s trying to get my boobs out in the first two minutes of foreplay- ah!” Vanessa cuts herself off as Brooke sucks a hickey into her collarbone. If she wanted to get Vanessa to shut up she’s succeeded, and so Vanessa instead focuses her attention on trailing her nails up and down Brooke’s back, delighting in the way the other girl shivers gently at the contact.

Brooke brings her lips up to meet Vanessa’s and she licks gently into her mouth as she strokes her thumb over one of her nipples, the contact making Vanessa flinch against the bed in the best kind of way. Vanessa trails a hand up Brooke’s back and pushes her fingers into her hair, and when Brooke breaks away her stomach flips at the way it’s all messed up and imperfect. Paired with Brooke’s blown pupils and plush lips, it’s a sight that makes Vanessa buck gently into the air almost without realising.

“Jesus. It really doesn’t take much, does it?” Brooke laughs gently as she loops a finger under the waistband of her leggings, and Vanessa shakes her head and pouts self-indulgently.

“Brooke…” she begins, then trails off when she doesn’t actually realise what she wants to say. She’s very happy to let her be in charge if this is what happens as a result, and when Brooke moves to straddle her it renders her twice as speechless as she was before.

“If this is you now, I’m almost scared for how you’re going to react when you see what I’m planning on doing to you,” Brooke says softly, the fake concern to her voice sending shockwaves rippling through Vanessa’s body. Before she can respond Vanessa gasps as Brooke pulls off her leggings, leaving her in the red thong she’d agonised over and the white ankle socks she’d put entirely less thought into. Brooke is left kneeling between Vanessa’s spread legs; dark heavy-lidded eyes, mouth hanging ever-so-slightly open. When she speaks, her voice is ragged.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” she says, and maybe it’s the simplicity of it but Brooke’s words make Vanessa feel completely naked despite what she’s still wearing.

“You’re beautiful,” Vanessa breathes out in an instant reply.

Brooke pouts and trails one of her short acrylics up Vanessa’s inner thigh, ripping a whine from her. “You sure Kameron isn’t more beautiful?”

“Jesus,” Vanessa throws her head back against the pillow and lets out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t have you down as the jealous type at all.”

When she tilts her head up Brooke’s got an unimpressed eyebrow raised at her. “You’re already in trouble, this isn’t helping your case.”

Vanessa can’t resist the urge to tease her and so she sticks her tongue out in response. “Oh what, you gonna punish me? You gonna tie me to the bed an’ spank me?”

Brooke’s gaze darkens. There’s a pause as she crawls up the bed, hovers over Vanessa with her face close. Vanessa keeps her own eyes sparkling as she stays still, challenging her to see if she’ll crack even though she wants to grab her jaw and kiss her with the same intensity they’d shown each other earlier.

“Brooke Lynn’s jeal-ous,” she sing-songs right in her face, and when Brooke pulls back she’s wearing a dark expression. Vanessa brings her hands up to rest on Brooke’s waist, traces the outline of her waistband.

And when Brooke leans over to the top drawer of her bedside table, Vanessa’s eyes widen as she instantly realises what she means.

She produces a wireless pink wand vibrator, and Vanessa’s body hotwires.

“Fuck.”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke murmurs, lips quirking in a smile. “You’re going to get punished for the stunt you decided to pull today.”

“Oh no, I hate orgasms! What a terrible punishment,” Vanessa smiles back at her, sarcastic and indulgent.

“Who says you’re going to be allowed to have any?” Brooke frowns.

Vanessa instantly realises her mistake.

“Wait…but-”

“Yeah. I’d suggest you better start being extra nice to me,” Brooke interrupts her, resting the wand down on the bed beside one of Vanessa’s thighs and hooking her fingers around the waistband of her underwear to tug it off. While this is happening Vanessa shuffles against the sheets in anticipation, something curling tightly in the pit of her stomach and the throbbing between her legs becoming impossible to ignore. She wants so badly to be touched, wants Brooke to feel how wet she is and for her eyes to go all wide when she realises she’s the one that’s got her this worked up, but instead of her fingers or her tongue she’s using that stupid fucking vibrator and she’s not even going to be allowed to come.

Fuck.

“Please, Brooke Lynn,” Vanessa pouts, letting a hand trail up Brooke’s thigh from where she’s positioned herself between her legs.

Brooke gives a short laugh. “You think you’re begging me now, wait until I get started.”

“Promise I’ll be good for you,” Vanessa insists, the end of her sentence almost getting cut off with a gasp as Brooke presses the wand against her. It’s not even switched on yet but it’s something that Vanessa can grind against, and she bucks her hips gently against the head.  

“If you want me to turn it on you better keep those hips still,” Brooke says quickly, and Vanessa groans in resignation, lies still like she’s been asked.

She’s rewarded with a soft hum and a gentle buzz against her slit, and she can’t help the moan of satisfaction she gives in response as Brooke holds the wand there for a few moments, letting Vanessa get used to it. After so much build-up it feels like heaven, and the feeling leaves Vanessa wondering how long she’s going to last.

Brooke starts to swipe the wand up and down against her; lazy, slow motions that leave Vanessa squirming against the mattress every time she feels the vibrations brush against her clit. It’s not helping that Vanessa can see Brooke’s own chest rising and falling increasingly quickly, her pink, flushed cheeks, her hair all unkempt from Vanessa running her fingers through it.

“This good, babe?” Brooke asks, her tone ragged and her voice hoarse. When she snaps her gaze up to meet Vanessa’s eyes her pupils are blown and black and it sends an arrow through Vanessa’s heart that instantly shatters it as if it’s a piñata full of confetti.

“Mm,” is all Vanessa can manage, along with a rapid nod against the pillow.

“Not quite hearing a yes or a no there,” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I should just turn it off-”

“No, no, no, no! It’s good, it’s good, fuck, yes, please don’t stop,” Vanessa instantly reels off as if it’s a frantic prayer. Brooke’s probably the closest thing to religion she’s experienced in months.

“You sure? You sure Kameron wouldn’t do it better?” Brooke says teasingly, wiggling the vibrator against her clit as if to make a point and sending Vanessa into the stratosphere.

“No, I promise, I promise, babe, please, please, please,” she whines. She can hear herself pleading and she hopes it’ll help Brooke come round to the idea of letting her orgasm because if Brooke ups the setting on her wand then there’s no way she’s going to be able to exercise any form of restraint.

Brooke switches back to slowly sliding the vibrator against her, and Vanessa can feel Brooke’s grip on her thigh tighten.

“Fuck, I can see how wet you are from here.”

Vanessa feels herself throb, her body responding to Brooke’s words before she can. She fists both her her hands into the sheets, can’t see her knuckles but knows they’ve gone white. “You wanna taste me so bad.”

“So much,” Brooke pouts, nodding slowly. “But…you need to lie there and take your punishment.”

“Fuck. I miss when you were too shy to talk during sex,” Vanessa huffs, grumpy, and she’s immediately stopped from saying any more as the wand buzzes that little bit more intensely against her. Brooke brings it back up to her clit, rubs it in slow, small circles that drive Vanessa wild and render her almost incapable of thought.

“Sounds like you’re the one who can’t talk during sex,” Brooke deadpans, squeezing Vanessa’s thigh to punctuate her point.

She can feel how slick the wand is against her, only illustrating how wet she is. The hum of the vibrator and the gasps Vanessa can hear herself making are heightening her senses; it’s too much and not enough all at once. Both Brooke’s teasing and the sensation of the wand vibrating against her is making Vanessa’s inevitable orgasm build inside her, and it’s only a matter of time before she hits boiling point.

“Brooke- ah!- please…don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last…”

“Oh, no way,” Brooke says darkly, and in an instant the vibrator is off and Vanessa’s back is arching off the bed in frustration as she cries out in disappointment. “You don’t get to come yet, babe, not after the sass you just gave me.”

Vanessa instantly regrets opening her stupid mouth and teasing Brooke more than anything she’s ever regretted before in her life. She whines, reaches her hips up into the air as if she’s going to generate friction from nowhere, and Brooke’s pouting in mock-sympathy. Vanessa knows she could just spring up from her position against the bed, grab Brooke’s face and kiss her and pin her down and take the control back, but there’s part of her that knows how unbelievably satisfying it’s going to be when she does get to come if she’s this worked up already.

Brooke’s watching her with heavy-lidded eyes as she traces up her leg then fans her fingers out over her inner thigh and rubs her thumb against her clit. The contact makes Vanessa’s eyes almost roll into the back of her head; the wand has heightened her sensitivity and she’s by now so slick and wet from all of Brooke’s teasing that with every little rub of her thumb Vanessa can feel the fire between her thighs become completely out of control.

“God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this to you every fucking day since Blackpool,” Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa bucks against her thumb helplessly. “We’d be having to rehearse but all I wanted to do was just to make you beg for it again and again, fuck.”

“Should’ve told me.”

“Mm. I almost texted you about it. One of the nights I was lying in bed fucking myself with my fingers and remembering how good yours felt…remembering how you felt like fucking heaven underneath me…I could’ve sent you so many pictures that night…”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ you need to stop talking or I’m gonna come,” Vanessa squeezes her eyes shut. Brooke’s still teasing her clit and Vanessa knows she’s deliberately applying just not quite enough pressure. She’s so on edge and it feels like the most incredible form of torture.

“You want the wand back, sweetie?”

“Please, fuck, yes,” Vanessa begs, almost wanting to sob. When Brooke’s thumb gets replaced by the vibrating head of the wand she feels lightheaded, lets out a cry that she instantly knows Brooke’s neighbours will hear but she doesn’t care. Brooke’s teasing her badly, holding the wand against her, taking it away for a second, then replacing it, and Vanessa feels so sorry for herself that she starts pleading with her.

“Keep it on me, please,” she gasps out, and when she looks up at Brooke she’s smiling at her wickedly.

“Like this?”

Brooke ups the intensity the moment she makes contact and Vanessa can practically feel herself give a little gush against the wand. Her breath is coming in shallow gasps now, and she’s only just registering the fact that Brooke’s got her hand that isn’t holding the wand down under the waistband of her own underwear, playing with herself. There’s a light sheen of sweat against her chest that’s making her glow like an angel and the way her chest is rising and falling is mirroring Vanessa’s.

Vanessa now realises why people yell out declarations of love right in the middle of their orgasm.

“Why don’t you tell me how much you like it?” Brooke murmurs. Vanessa can see her bucking against her fingers and the sight makes her press herself down against the wand, the way the vibrations roll over her clit in waves making her want to scream.

“So much…so fucking much…”

“Anyone else gonna fuck you like me?”

“No, baby, no-one else, just you, fuck, only you,” Vanessa whimpers. She looks up at Brooke and the sight of her eyes closed in ecstasy, grinding against her fingers and her nipples hard through the fabric of her bra is enough to tip Vanessa on a very gradual decline over the edge. “Fuck, can I come, please?”

“Yes, babe, you can come.”

When Vanessa feels her clit sieze up then pulse frantically against the vibrations of the wand, she shouts out into the bedroom, the pace of her fuck, fuck, fuck in sync with the waves of her orgasm flooding through her body. Brooke holds the wand against her until she’s sure she’s finished and Vanessa can only lie against the mattress, completely worn out and exhausted, as she watches Brooke take the wand and hold it between her own legs, the thin material of her underwear dark between her legs as Vanessa realises just how wet Brooke must be as well.

And even though Vanessa’s too worn out to help her out in the way she wants to, it doesn’t stop her from sliding a lazy hand up her thigh. She takes a couple of shallow breaths before pouting up at Brooke.

“Aww. Did watching me get you too worked up, baby?”

“Mm-hm,” Brooke hums in reply, running her tongue over her bottom lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. It gives her an idea.

“Not used my mouth on you yet. Bet you wish I was doin’ it now.”

“Fuck, Vanessa, keep talking.”

“You don’t get to boss me around any more, princess. Keep talking what?”

Brooke’s face contorts into a frown as she ruts against the wand, eyes still closed. “Keep talking please.”

“Good girl,” Vanessa purrs, and she almost feels as if she could go for round two as she hears the way Brooke gasps in delight at the praise. “You want me to tell you how much I want to put my tongue between your legs and taste you and watch you come apart under me?”

“Ah…”

“Maybe you don’t want that, though. Maybe you want to sit on my face instead. Ride my tongue and shut me up so I can’t talk back to you and drip all over my face all dirty while I just lie there and take it like a good girl.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brooke hisses out. Vanessa’s surprising herself with what’s coming out of her mouth and how absolutely filthy it all is but she’s going with it because she knows Brooke’s close.

“Tell me how much you want it.”

“Fuck, want it so much.”

“You’re so close, aren’t you?”

“Vanessa…fuck, please…”

Vanessa regains enough strength to sit up and cup Brooke’s face with her hands, meeting her lips with her own and teasing her with a slow, deep kiss. Vanessa flicks her tongue inside her mouth and when she rubs it over Brooke’s she cries out against her lips, her moans almost-but-not-quite swallowed by Vanessa’s kiss as she comes.

Brooke breaks away as she falls against the mattress and Vanessa follows her, lying down beside her and gently switching the wand off. They lay there in silence, Brooke’s gasps and the buzzing in Vanessa’s ears the only things she can still focus on until Brooke reaches out a hand to curl around one of Vanessa’s. Vanessa throws a leg over Brooke, pulls her closer so that Vanessa can rest her head against her chest and feel her frantic heartbeat.

“Fuck me,” Brooke whispers breathlessly, and Vanessa lets out a chuckle.

“What, again? Thought you’d at least want a break first.”

“Shut up,” Brooke giggles. There’s a pause as she presses her lips to Vanessa’s head, mouths something Vanessa can’t hear or see. Then she mutters again, a little louder. “You’re so amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Vanessa replies childishly, though the way Brooke’s chest judders against her in a laugh Vanessa assumes she doesn’t mind. She flinches a little as Brooke’s stomach gives a loud rumble. “Oh yeah. Forgot you were meant to be making dinner.”

“Hey, I have made dinner thank you very much! It’s in the slow cooker. Cuban beef and rice if that’s okay?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa doesn’t miss the little nervous tone in her voice. It’s adorable.

“Sure it is.”

Brooke lends Vanessa some pyjamas to shove on in lieu of the outfit she’d arrived in, and Vanessa’s heart swells a little at the implication that she’s going to be staying over. She’s not sure if she’ll try and breach the subject of what they are tonight- the evening is already so perfect and Vanessa doesn’t want to ruin anything, especially not when they’re curled up on the sofa with bowls of warm food in their laps and laughing guiltily at the way Jan is sobbing because she and Jackie have become the latest ones to leave the competition after a tense dance-off with Crystal and Gigi.  

“It’ll be a close final, though. Like that’s everyone been in the bottom now,” Vanessa contemplates, tilting her head in thought from her position at the other side of the sofa. Brooke nods, then snorts again.

“God. I feel for Jan, but she just has such a memeable crying face. Like Kim K,” Brooke snorts again, as some ridiculous BBC One gameshow that seems to be based around celebrities strapped into a wheel starts in the background.

“Jan’ll be fine. She’ll recover, she’s a big girl. She’s got Jackie anyway,” Vanessa shrugs. Brooke hums in response, and then there’s a palpable silence that fills the room, almost like Brooke is about to say something. Vanessa waits.

“So today got me thinking,” Brooke finally says, reaching out and curling her fingers around Vanessa’s. Her eyes are in her lap and she’s not meeting her gaze. Vanessa is, in every sense, on the edge of her seat.

“Uh-huh?”

“When I saw those pictures of you and Kameron,” Brooke continues, the reminder making Vanessa’s heart drop. “I got so envious…and then I thought, well…what’s the only way I can make sure Vanessa’s just mine?”

Brooke finally looks at her, and every fibre of Vanessa’s being lifts in hope. “So, uh, I was wondering…if you would want to be my girlfriend.”

And when Vanessa blinks, she can see fireworks explode behind her eyes. She’s unable to help the huge, dumb smile that breaks out on her face as she blushes shyly, gives a nod.

“‘Course I would, baby.”

The smile that bursts onto Brooke’s face mirrors her own, and Vanessa can’t help but lean in and pepper Brooke’s face with kisses, wrap her arms around her in a cuddle.

“Officially yours, now,” Vanessa smiles excitedly, as she rests her head against Brooke’s chest. She can’t see Brooke’s face, but she knows she’s smiling too.

And suddenly, a little sentence appears in Vanessa’s head, three very small and simple words that she’s not thought about in a long time but just make sense in that moment. She looks up at Brooke, meets her gaze and feels her heart thump.

Maybe she can save that for another day.

[calixddm101706]

Holiday Spent Together.

The holiday season was upon the Titans so they all decided to take a break from anything work related.

Kori and Dick were in their apartment. They wanted to spend their holidays there.

Jaime went home to spend holidays with his family, Gar came with him because Jaime treats him like family, they're best friends.

Donna also went home to themyscira.

The boy wonder was also going to spend holidays with his family until this happened.

He was walking in the hallway with his bag of clothes and other stuff. He entered the common room and became shocked with what he saw.

Sitting in the couch, was Raven......

He was shocked but then remembered that she didn't have a regular family. She didn't want to go with the others because she didn't want to disrupt their family bonding during the holidays. He now felt sad for the empath. Raven sensed him so she looked back and saw him just standing there staring at her, consumed by his thoughts.

"Umm....Damian? Are you okay?" She asks. Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Oh! Umm..I'm just thinking about something." He lied, he didn't want to remind of her of her family issues.

"Where are you going?" She asks, looking at his bag then back at him.

"Oh, I'm going home for the holidays." He informs. "Oh..." She says softly, now feeling sad, remembering her loneliness. Damian immediately realizes what he had done.

"Great going in not reminding her genius!" Damian scolds himself.

"Have fun.." She says then goes back to her book.

Damian felt really guilty now, he didn't want to leave her alone. He was going to invite her to come with him to the manor but he knew he'll never hear the end of it from his brothers.

He got another idea.....

"Wait there!" He said to her which surprised the young mage. He ran to the hallway and grabbed his phone and called his father.

"Hello Damian, what's wrong?" Bruce asks from the other side of the phone.

"I've decided to stay in fhe tower." Damian informs, Bruce was definitely shocked by the sudden statement and change of mind.

"Why?" Bruce asks, Damian didn't want to tell his father his reason or else he'd never hear the end of it, so he just lied...

"I have decided that I want to have some peace and quiet alone." He says.

"Really? How are you supposed to that with Raven there, she is there, isn't she?" Bruce says teasingly with a smug. He knew Raven didn't have a normal family, so he deduced it already.

He can see Damian's shocked face on the other side of the phone.

"I understand now why you want to stay." Bruce jokes, "Father!" Damian says pissed.

"Ok fine, you can stay, Merry Christmas Damian." Bruce says, "You too father." The ex assassin ended the call and went back in the common room.

Once he got back in Raven immediately faced him. "Guess what?" Damian asks with a grin. Raven just shrugged.

"You won't be alone this holiday." Damian informs, Raven quickly understands what he was implying.

"You're staying here?! What does your father think of this?" She asks shocked.

"Yes, I....felt bad for you. I didn't want you to be alone. Also don't worry of my father, he approves......weirdly." He said softly, cheeks staring to blush crimson red.

Raven smiles at his words, "Thank you Damian." She says sincerely, Damian smiles in return.

"Now I will put my belongings back in my room but after that we can do anything you want." He says before leaving the room. Raven chuckles at his charms. She gets up from the couch and heads out of the common room.

After a while Damian went to Raven's room, he knocked on her door and waited for a response.

She opened her door and saw Damian wearing his usual red hoodie, while she was wearing her usual attire which was her cloak and leotard.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Damian broke the silence between them.

"Umm......what do you want to umm....do?" Damian asks shyly.

"Umm.....I don't know, probably make a meal." She suggested.

"So cook?" Damian asked for clearance.

She nodded, they both chuckled because of the other's charms.

They both headed down to the kitchen and looked around.

"What do you want to cook?" Damian asks while looking through some cabinets.

"I don't know, probably just something easy, I'm not the best when it comes to food." She said.

"Well how about some waffles?" Damian suggests as he finds the waffle mix in one of the cupboards.

Raven being a huge fan of waffle says yes immediately.

They bring out the ingredients and things they needed and they put it in the kitchen island.

Once everything was out they started making.

Raven was in charge of putting eggs in the bowl, she was still learning how.

She hit the egg on the side of the bowl, it didn't crack, she tried again, nothing.

Damian noticed her problem so he helped. He walked up to her, he wanted to grab the egg in her hand but ends up holding her hand instead. Raven looks up and meets his eyes, their eyes lock, they stare at each other for a while.

They snap back into reality, Damian quickly retreats his hand back from hers, Raven processes what just had happened.

She looks back at Damian when he starts talking but does not make eye contact with the ex assassin.

"Umm.......so this is how you....umm....crack some eggs." Damian said, uncomfortable and heart raising rapidly.

"Oh okay." She says, she watches him crack the eggs but she her mind really isn't on the eggs.

They continue making the waffles in silence, awkward silence.

They didn't talk, only mumbling "excuse me" every now and then when going the other's direction or way.

After an hour as passed, the waffles were ready to be eaten.

They put the snacks in a plate, got some drinks and just stayed at the common room.

They sat in different seats and ate in silence, staring at the window, the awkward tension was fading but was still there.

Raven couldn't stand the silence, she didn't like the awkwardness between them, so she talked.

"Umm.....Damian?" She says, turning her head to where the boy wonder is. Grabbing his attention easily, he turns his head to look at the young mage.

"Umm...yes?" He asks.

"Why is it so awkward now? I mean like, we just stared at each other. What happened?" She asks,

Damian looks to the floor, "I don't actually know, it just became awkward all of the sudden and It wouldn't go back to how it was before." He says, also clueless to the situation.

"Can we just go back to how it was before?" Raven asks desperately, she couldn't handle the tension any longer. Damian looks back up to her.

"Umm....sure." Damian replies, Raven smiles in return.

"Anyways, these waffles are good." She changed the subject.

"Yes, I agree."

"Where'd you learn to cook good waffles?" Raven asks curiously.

Damian looks down to the floor again, "When you introduced the snack to me I enjoyed it, so I......learned to make it." Damian says embarrassed.

Raven laughs, "Why are you so embarrassed?" She asks.

"I don't actually know."

With that, Damian starts laughing as well because of his own silliness, also because Raven's laughing.

After they calmed down from the intense laughter they started eating their meals once more.

When they finished, they've decided to open the gifts they have gotten each other.

Raven gave Damian's gift first, Damian opened it. It was a new sword holder.

Damian looked stunned, he looks up to Raven, who was smiling.

"Thank you." He says, acknowledging the present.

"You're welcome!" She replies.

Damian hands Raven his gift to her. She opens it, and gets stunned when she saw what it was.

It was a necklace, with the word Raven written in diamonds.

Raven looks up to Damian with a stunned face.

"What. The. Hell." was the only thing she could say.

Damian got worried, "Do you not like it?".

"No! It's not that, I love it. I'm just.....its just...so beautiful, must've been expensive." She says, still stunned.

"Money is not a problem."  He says plainly.

"Yes it is! This are real diamonds!" She says.

"No its not, also, I've made sure that its diamonds." He says, Raven raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Because diamonds is special.....and valuable, that's why your name is in diamonds, because like you, its special and valuable." Damian says, his cheeks start to redden, the same thing with Raven's.

Tears start to form in the young mage's eyes.

"Thank you so much, Damian!" She says, he smiles in return.

She runs to his arms, she hugs him tightly. Damian was shocked at first, but then slowly wraps his arms around her figure.

They separate but not fully, their eyes meet, but its not awkward anymore, its comfortable.

They slowly move towards the other, the gap between them slowly decreasing until it was fully gone.

Their lips moved in sync, they kissed with no care in the world, the only thing that mattered was them, and them only.

They separated for air, they continue to stare at each other, falling deep in each other's eyes.

They lean until their foreheads were touching. They stayed like that for a few minutes.

"Also, I didn't learn to cook waffles because I enjoyed it."

Raven raises her eyebrow once more.

"Its because I wanted to cook it for you someday." He admits.

Raven let's out a heartwarming smile in return.

After that, they just stayed in the common room cuddling, enjoying the other's presence while watching the snow fall to the ground.

What matters during the holidays is not where you spend it, how many gifts you get, or what the situation is.

The thing that matters is the people you hold dear and the meaning of that.

[poisongirl18]

Rain (3)

Rain (3)

It had been a few weeks since Raine had began working for the Son’s, taking care of the paperwork and phone calls at shop. She enjoyed the job, keeping her mind busy from everything that was going on, even managed to become friends with a few of the guys.

“Teller-Morrow auto shop, this is Raine.” She answered the phone as she did many times before, sticking a pencil behind her ear as she waited for a response.

“Hello?” She called again after a long moment of silence.

This time all she heard was the sound of heavy breathing, clearly from a man.

Raine’s heart stopped as she gripped the phone in her hand before she decided to hang up and slam the phone down, staring at it

“You doing okay, darlin’?”

She was surprised when Jax Teller came into the office, a full-on smirk on his face, as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Yeah, just a prank call.” She chuckled and shook her head.

Jax’s eyebrows pulled together as he tilted his head. “They say anything?”

She shook her head. “Nope, just hung up.” She lied.

Jax looked over Raine, taking note of her tense body language, before shaking his head. “Tara’s here with the boys.” He smiled. “If you want to go see them.”

“Yeah.” She nodded with a big smile on her face.

Tara and Raine had become close friends during the last couple of weeks thanks to Jax for setting it up, per Opie’s request, but he didn’t mind. Tara needed more friends and Raine just needed friends in general.

Raine stood up on shaky legs before hurrying out to see Tara and the boys hanging around the club house.

“Hey Raine.” Tara greeted with a smile on her face. “How are you feeling?”

Despite Raine’s protests to her knew friend, Tara looked her over, just making sure everything was okay with the battered girl, only finding a couple of cracked ribs.

“I’m fine.” Raine nodded as she touched baby Thomas’ hand.

Opie stood at the bar, watching as the dark-haired beauty talked with his best friend’s old lady. Every time he looked at her his heart swelled, and his pants got a little tighter. He did his best to stay back from her, to protect her from harms way, but with the kids always over at her house, telling stories of their new neighbor, he found it hard to not have some sort of attraction to the girl.

Jax eyed his best friend who was staring at Raine like there was no one else in the room. He grinned before sauntering over and leaning against the bar next to Opie. “She’s interesting.” He noted, nodding towards Raine.

“Yeah.” Opie nodded as he sipped his beer. “She’s something.”

“I heard the kids talking about her,” Jax noted, “they say she does nice things for them.”

Opie nodded. “She likes to bake for them, make them lunch if they’re playing outside.” He shrugged. “So what?”

Jax smirked. “Is she nice to you Ope?”

Opie rolled his eyes. “She’s a good neighbor. Keeps to herself.”

“You haven’t been hanging out with her?” Jax asked, already knowing the answer.

Opie shrugged, trying to play it off.

They’ve been sharing cigarettes at night on her porch, just talking about the day.

It was nice to have something to look forward to after a long day. He hadn’t felt that in a while.

“Right.” Jax chuckled before turning to smile at his old lady who met eyes with him. “We have a little gift for her.” He spoke after winking at Tara. “Something small, but Tara said she needed some things, that her house was pretty much empty except the essentials.” He rubbed his jaw. “Tara wants to surprise her. You think you can get her out of the house for a while?”

Opie eyed up his friend. “Why are you asking me?”

“You and I both know why.” Jax grinned.

Opie refrained from rolling his eyes and instead stared at Raine who stood with confidence even though he knew that on the inside she was scared. Scared of whoever caused those bruises on her face and cracked her ribs, but she wouldn’t talk about that. She didn’t want to dwell on the past because that’s what it was, the past.

“Alright brother.” Opie nodded as he adjusted the beanie on his head. “I’ll take care of it.”

Raine laid on the middle of her living room floor, reading a book that Tara had given her.

It had given her some form of entertainment since she didn’t have a T.V. but all the reading was giving her a headache.

She sat up, rubbing her forehead tiredly trying to decide what to do next.

She could always make treats for Kenny and Ellie, they were always excited to see what little surprise goodies the neighbor had in store for them.

Raine got to her feet, ready to see what ingredients she had when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Jax and Gemma insisted that she take one of the burner phones they had so she could keep in touch, just in case she ever needed anything, so only the people at the club had her number.

She quickly pressed the button on the phone before bringing it to her ear. “H-Hello?” She answered, feeling confused more than anything.

“Raine.”

She let out a breath when she heard her neighbor’s voice coming through the phone.

“Hey Opie, are you okay?” She asked as she paced her empty living room.

“Uh yeah,” He said awkwardly, “I was wondering if you would mind coming over, I need help with uh . . . something.”

Raine cocked a brow before nodding. “Yeah let me grab my shoes.” She said before hanging up, hurrying to get some shoes on.

There was excitement in the pit of her belly when she heard Opie’s voice, she was growing attracted to the big goon with every night that passed. She loved when he came over at night, when they were able to talk about anything. She learned about his past, him spending time in prison. At first it scared her, but the more time she spent with him the more time she realized that she felt safer with him than anyone in her whole life.

When she got to his door, she didn’t have to knock because Opie already felt her presence. He stood in front of her an awkward smile on his lips. “Hey. . . uh thanks for coming.”

“Of course, Opie. What’s wrong?” She bit her lip.

Opie’s eyes went immediately to her bottom lip, watching in a daze as she rolled it between her teeth. He suppressed a groan and met her hazel eyes.

Opie went to speak when Raine suddenly crinkled her nose. “Is something burning?” She asked, immediately pushing him to the side when she saw smoke. “Jesus Opie!” She cried out as she went to the kitchen.

“Shit.” Opie cursed before following her. “Yeah this is the uh – problem.”

Raine picked up the pot on the stove, immediately taking it to the sink where she stared at the blackened mush. “What was this anyway?”

“Uh . . . Mac and cheese.” Opie said rubbing the back of his neck.

Raine stared at the embarrassed man in front of her before chuckling and shaking her head. “Jesus Ope. You destroyed Mac and Cheese.” She said shaking her head. “Is this what you called me for?”

He nodded. “I was trying to make something for the kids before they got back from Mary’s and they always talk about your cooking.” He shrugged.

Raine continued to chuckle to herself. “What do you usually make for them?”

“Take out.” He sighed.

Raine let out a curse under her breath before nodding. “I’m guessing that you don’t have any groceries.” She smirked, taunting him.

“Not really.”

She nodded. “When will they be back?”

“Later.” Opie answered simply. “We have time.”

Raine bit her bottom lip again. “Well, we’re going to need something to cook, and a new cooking pot. I’ll run to the store.”

Opie reached for his keys on the counter. “I’ll drive you.”

“Great.”

It was a short drive to the store, but it gave Raine enough time to plan out what she was going to make for the family, even grabbing a couple of extra things for the kids to snack on with Opie’s permission. The whole time, Opie never left her side. He stayed quiet as he watched her study each thing she needed before putting it in the cart. He tried to figure out what she was going to make for them, but he had no clue what each ingredient was used for.

“Ope?” Raine called as she pointed up to the top shelf. “Can you grab the flour please?”

Opie couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he reached on the very top shelf, grabbing to the flour she pointed to before handing it to her. “Here you go shorty.” He smirked.

“I can’t help that your freakishly tall.” She chuckled as she threw it in the cart before pushing it to the end of the aisle.

Opie couldn’t stop his eyes from going straight to her plump ass. Wondering what it would feel like to squeeze those globes as she cried out his name.

“I’m ready to check out.” She called.

He shook his head, following her to the front where they teamed up in unloading the cart onto the belt. Opie paid the bill despite Raine’s protest before going outside to his truck.

“I think that was the most fun I’ve had grocery shopping.” Raine admitted.

Opie paused before nodding. “Me too.” He smiled. “We should do it more often.” The words escaped his lips before he could even process what he said.

Raine stilled for a minute, wondering if it was a good idea or not to hang out with the ex-con biker when she was supposed to be putting her head down. “I think you just want me to do your dirty work for you.” She teased.

Opie chuckled and shook his head. “I appreciate the help. After Donna,” He paused, “I’m not sure what the fuck I’m doing most of the time.”

Raine couldn’t stop the hand that went to cup his cheek for comfort, feeling the roughness of beard under her palm. “You’re doing what you can Opie, the kids know that.”

He relished in the warmth of her touch, a feeling overtaking him that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “I’ve fucked up a lot, pushed them away.”

“Well bring them back to you.” She smiled sadly. “This could be a start.”

Opie stared in Raine’s eyes before he slowly leaned down, ready to place his lips upon hers for a kiss they’ve both been wanting for weeks.

The sound of squealing tires interrupted the moment before gun shots rang out, shooting out the trucks back window.

“Get down!” Opie yelled, as he pushed Raine to the ground with him on top of her.

Opie pulled out his gun, aiming at the van that was speeding away, shooting at its tires, but missing.

“Fuck!” He yelled when suddenly realizing that Raine was screaming or crying. He quickly looked down at her to find her staring at him confused and scared. “It’s okay, they’re gone.” He said as he got up, putting his gun in the waistband of his jeans. “Raine we need to get yo-“ He stopped when he realized he had blood on his hands. He didn’t feel pain, nor shock.

He felt perfectly normal.

He quickly looked down at where Raine was still on the ground, blood covering her upper shoulder, staining her favorite t-shirt.

“Fuck Raine.” He cursed as he applied pressure to the wound, hearing sirens in the distance. “It’s okay.” He said softly trying to focus on the wound and not the cry she let out. “We need to get you to a hospital.” He said shakily.

Raine gritted her teeth in pain.

She had been hit many times, been punched, kicked, and even cut, but she had never been shot before. The searing pain in her shoulder made her wish she had been beat to a bloody pulp again if it meant this pain would go away.

“Opie,” She said softly as the edges of her vision became black.

“Your okay.” He nodded.

“I’m going to fucking faint.” She admitted.

“Raine, stay with me, don’t fuc-“

Those were the last words Raine heard before the darkness swallowed her.

[nazariolahela]

Something Domestic: Chapter 14

A/N: Hey y'all! This story is told in first-person narrative, from Riley’s (MC) POV. There will likely be smidges of canon in this, but not too much. Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback, and/or if you would like to be tagged.

This week’s chapter is a bonus from Liam’s POV. I was really excited to write his side of the story. I hope you enjoy it too.

Catch up here

Series Tags: @burnsoslow @aworldoffandoms @dcbbw @ladyangel70 @texaskitten30 @sunandlemons @jlynn12273 @indiacater @jared2612 @rainbowsinthestorm @drakesensworld @badchoicesposts @msjr0119 @katurrade @blackcoffee85 @cynicalworlds-blog @hopefulmoonobject @beardedoafdonutwagon @cmestrella @sugarandspice-milkandhoney @superharrietsuper @custaroonie @lady-calypso @ritachacha @olympianpantsuit @desiree-0816 @the-soot-sprite @kate-mckenzie @narrytheworld @octobereighth @lynne1993 @queen-anastasia-universe​

Synopsis: When Riley Brooks takes a new job as a nanny for the affluent Rhys family in New York’s Upper East Side, she assumes she’s just going to care for the children of the couple who hired her. But instead of just school pick-ups and afternoon snacks, she also finds herself spending time with Liam, the handsome divorced dad. Can Riley control her feelings for Liam while still performing the job she was hired for? 

All characters are the property of Pixelberry Studios. Thanks for allowing me to borrow them.

Chapter Summary: Liam and Leo try to get to the bottom of the tabloid scandal and Liam tries to win Riley back. 

Almost a month had passed since the tabloid incident. In that time, the press found plenty of other scandals to latch on to. Not hard to do in this city. Lucky for me, my divorce has all but been forgotten about. I still get the occasional paparazzo bombarding me with questions of if I’m “banging the new nanny,” but for the most part, they’ve moved on. 

The last month has been hard on the kids as well. After Madeleine fired Riley, she replaced her almost immediately. Seems kind of suspicious to me, but whatever. The new nanny — a woman named Belinda — is a lovely woman, but the kids haven’t quite warmed up to her like they did Riley. They keep asking me when she’s coming back. I don’t have the heart to tell them that she probably won’t. They were visibly upset when I told them she would no longer be their nanny. Charlotte cried. Philip asked me if she didn’t like us anymore. They still talk about how much they miss her. To be honest, I do too. 

If we’re being honest here, I never once thought she did it. And not because we were involved. I saw how she was with my kids and I could tell she genuinely cared for them. She treated them like they were her own. Many nights I would come home from work and hear Philip talk about all the fun things he and Riley did, or hear Charlotte gush about how pretty and nice Riley was to her and how she let her wear whatever she wanted to school. I also remember all the times she told me that she didn’t care about my money, so there’s no way she would sell us out for a payday. 

It’s Monday morning and I’m sitting in my office at Cordonia Enterprises looking over the numbers for this quarter when my brother Leo strolls in, looking like he had just woken up from a week-long sex and booze bender. He moves over to the bar cart, pours himself three fingers of scotch, and plops down in the seat across from me. 

“You look like shit, little bro,” he smiles behind the rim of his glass. 

“You would know. You smell like a brothel.” 

He laughs loudly and takes a sip of his scotch, then sets it on the desk. “Well, you’re ex-nanny needed someone to comfort her after you tossed her out on the street, so I offered her my services. Did you know she makes the cutest noises when she cums?” He makes a show of adjusting himself. “My balls are getting tight just thinking about it.” 

I clench the pen in my hand with enough force that my knuckles turn white. I know he’s trying to fuck with me, so I take a deep breath, controlling my rage. “What the fuck do you want, Leo?” 

He chuckles and kicks his feet up on my desk. I love my brother, but he can be a real dickhead at times. When Madeleine and I started dating, he gave me shit for months about me picking up his ‘sloppy seconds.’ Once, he asked me if she ever called out his name in bed. Fucker. After we were married, he warned me that she was just using me to get back at him. I probably should have listened to him. When I announced to my family that she and I were splitting up, he revealed that she had tried to seduce him on more than one occasion. Thankfully, he had no interest in getting involved with her again. My brother may be a total asshole, but he wouldn’t deliberately hurt me. 

“So, I think I know how to help you with your little predicament.” 

“My predicament?” 

“The tabloid leak. I think I know who was behind it. Or at least had something to do with it.”  

“It’s been a month, man. Everyone's forgotten about it,” I say, setting my pen down. 

“Really? Because your ex-wife called me last week.”  

I raise my brows and give him my full attention. This should be good. 

“Yeah, she called me crying, telling me how much she misses me. Not like I haven’t heard that over and over the last seven years. I warned you about her, Li. That chick is crazy. I’m pretty sure she was drunk. So anyway, she asks me if I knew about you and your nanny. Told her I had heard some things. Then she gives me some pathetic sob story about how you made her do what she did. ‘I had to do it, Leo. Who knows how long this has been going on?’” I nod and wait for him to continue.  

“I ask her to elaborate. She sputters out some lame-ass excuse about how you fucking the nanny behind her back pushed her into the arms of another man. The timing clearly didn’t line up since we all know you filed before you hired Riley, but I didn’t tell her that. I just let her dig her hole. She goes on about how she took matters into her own hands. Now that Riley’s out of the picture, things can go back to normal.” He laughs and finishes off his drink. 

“What does Riley have to do with all this?” I ask.  

“I asked her the same thing. She said that she knew Riley was no good from the beginning, but that you had convinced her to hire her because of her background. She suspected something was up after the paparazzi incident at the park, but that you had talked her out of doing something rash. That’s when she convinced you to hire Mara to keep tabs on Riley. I guess Mara had been giving her updates. She also rambled on about how Mara always bought Riley those tabloid magazines. That’s when she said she knew Riley had something to do with it. She didn’t come outright and say it, but the signs are all there.” 

I struggle to process the info that was just dumped in my lap. Would Madeleine really stoop that low? I know she wasn’t happy about me filing for divorce, but would she be vindictive enough to put our children in harm’s way just to get back at me? Why was the nanny collateral damage? And why would she wait a month to say anything? Guilt, perhaps? None of this makes sense.  

“Do you have proof of this, Leo?” 

“Dude. Why the fuck would I lie about it? You know damn well she still wants me. Even with her new man in the picture. Seven years she’s tried to get me to take her back. I wish I would have recorded it so you could listen to how desperate she sounded.” 

“Not that, you dick. About the leak.” 

“Oh yeah, that. No, I don’t have proof. But I have a hunch. And I’m usually 90% right about these things.”  

I drop my head in my hands. Yep, the signs are all there. Now, I just have to find a way to prove what I’ve suspected all along. I pull out my phone and shoot a group text to Max, Drake, and Liv, asking them to meet up tonight. If I’m going to nail my ex-wife to the wall, I need my most trusted friends to help me. 

***

Drake, Maxwell, Olivia, my brother, and I meet at The Double Tappe after work. The place is empty — not unusual for a Monday — giving us the whole bar to ourselves. We all congregate in one of the booths in the back and Leo repeats what he told me this morning. Drake and Max are completely shocked by the revelation. Olivia, however, sits there stone-faced. 

“I knew there was a reason I didn’t like her,” she says.  

“You don’t like anyone,” Maxwell retorts, then flinches when Olivia punches him in the arm. He rubs the spot where she made contact and turns to me. “Whatcha gonna do about this, Li?” 

“I don’t know. It’s been a month, so it’s going to be hard to prove at this point. I need solid evidence that Madeleine was involved because she’ll never admit to it. The first person I need to talk to is Mara. Hopefully, she can give us some answers.”  

“What about a wire-tap? I know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy,” Drake shrugs in between sips of whiskey. 

“Pretty sure that’s illegal in this state,” Olivia says. 

Leo snaps his fingers. “That’s true, but New York is a one-party consent state. So, if one of us gets Madeleine to confess and records it, we technically wouldn’t be breaking the law.” 

“Okay, so who could we get to coerce that kind of information out of her?” I ask. 

Leo leans back and grins, crossing his arms behind his head. We all look at each other, knowing exactly who will handle this task. If anyone can persuade Madeleine to spill the beans, it’s definitely him. 

“How are we going to do this?” Max asks. 

“Well, I say loverboy here tries to seduce her. She’ll tell you anything you want to hear if she thinks she can get you back,” Olivia says. 

“Well then, it’s settled. Work your magic, Leo,” Drake replies. The five of us clink our glasses in celebration, although it feels premature since we don’t have actual evidence against her yet. We spend the rest of the evening sharing drinks, memories, and laughter. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. No kids, no work, no responsibilities. I haven’t done anything like this since college. As we gather up our things to leave, Drake pulls me aside. 

“Hey man, have you talked to Riley, lately?” 

“I’ve been trying to call and text her for weeks, but it’s been radio silence since Madeleine fired her. I even dropped by her apartment a few times, but no one was home. She must think I blame her for all this.” 

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “She does. We tried to tell her that you don’t, but it’s understandable why she would think that. I guess she and Hana had a falling out as well. Last I heard, Hana moved out, so she’s living there by herself. I don’t know where she's working now. She doesn’t come around much anymore. You should try to talk to her again. Maybe explain your side of the story.” 

“Yeah. It’s just… I fucked up, Drake. I don’t blame her for anything. I should have told her that.” I rub the back of my neck. “Truth is, I think I’m in love with her.” 

“You need to tell her, man.” 

I nod, clapping him on the shoulder, then head for my car. The drive back to my penthouse is long, but it gives me time to think. I think back to what Drake told me. About her and Hana’s falling out. I know they’ve been best friends for a long time. Now, she’s alone. To think that if she never met me, none of this would have happened. It’s hard not to blame myself for all of this.

I think back on how different things are with Riley then they were with Madeleine. When I met Madeleine, I was more in love with the idea of her. I married her to please my father, and although I’ll always care for her as the mother of my children, the love was never really there. When I found out she cheated, I was almost relieved.  

The night Riley left, I sat in my study and went over everything that had happened over those few weeks. I feel my chest start to tighten. What is this? Emotion? I had learned to turn them off after Madeleine, but somehow, Riley made them come back. And suddenly, I want to fight for what we have. I never fought for Madeleine, but I feel the urge to for her. She’s the only woman I’ve ever felt that desire for. Making a decision, I take the next U-Turn and make the trip to her apartment.  

I arrive outside her building a few minutes later. Her bedroom window faces the street, and when I peer up at it, I notice the light is on. That’s a good sign. It means she’s home. I exit the car and make my way up to her floor. I pause outside her door, unsure of what to say to her. Come on, Li. Quit stalling and tell her how you feel. I knock on her door a few times and wait patiently for her to answer. I hear shuffling on the other side of the door, and when it swings open, the face on the other side is not the one I’m expecting. 

“Can I help you?” A young man answers the door, wearing only a pair of low-hanging joggers. He eyes me confusingly.  

“Uh…” I stumble, double-checking to see if I have the right apartment. “Is Riley here?” 

“Maybe. Who’s asking?” 

Must resist the urge not to knock this kid on his ass. “Tell her Liam needs to see her.” 

He rolls his eyes and holds a finger up, signaling me to wait, before closing the door in my face. I hear him call out to her on the other side, “Hey, Riley. There’s some suit here to see you. Says his name is Liam.” More shuffling and muffled voices, then the door swings open, and there stands my girl. Her brown locks are piled atop her head in a messy bun. She’s wearing a pair of short shorts, showing off her long legs, and a Steinhardt t-shirt. She stares at me for a few seconds before snapping out of her daze. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“You haven’t been returning my calls.” 

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “There’s a reason for that.”  

I sigh, dragging my hand down my face. “Riley, please. Just listen to me.” 

“Why should I? You wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to explain myself.” 

Her words feel like a slap to my face. She’s absolutely right and I can’t argue otherwise. “I know I messed up, but if you give me a chance to explain myself, I’ll be on my way.” 

She turns and looks to the guy in her apartment, then back to me, then again at him. “Give me a sec, Josh,” she says, before stepping out into the hallway and pulling the door closed behind her. “You have two minutes.” 

I exhale. “I’m sorry. I want you to know I’m so sorry. For what I did. Or rather, what I didn’t do. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I never meant to hurt you, Riley. I get why you’re hurt. And if I was in your shoes, I’d feel the same way. When I saw the magazine, I didn’t believe you had anything to do with it, but in that moment, all I could think about was my kids.” 

She nods. “I know. Drake told me. But you could have said something to Madeleine instead of just letting her berate me. I would never do that to Philip and Charlotte. I love them like they were my own.” She looks down at her feet and her voice trembles. “I can’t believe you didn’t trust me when I’ve never given you a reason not to.” A tear rolls down her cheek. “All I’ve ever done is try to make you and those kids happy. Just because your ex-wife hurt you, doesn’t mean I would. You know that. I waited for you, Liam. I knew your circumstances with the divorce, and I still waited. And at the first sign of trouble, you jumped to conclusions. You didn’t give us a chance.” 

I reach out and tip her chin up to look at me. I gently rub her cheek with the pad of my thumb, brushing the tear away. “You’re right. I’m a fucking idiot. I know that now. I owe you so much more than a simple apology. You deserve better than that. I’m hoping it’s not too late to try and fix what I broke. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back.” 

She fidgets with the hem of her t-shirt. “I don’t know, Liam. I want to believe you. I really do. But I’m still hurt. I wish things had been different with us. I wish we had met under different circumstances. But, you have your children to think about. And I know they are your priority.” 

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Of course they are. But I want to make you my priority too. Tell me what I can do.” 

“Did you figure out who leaked the story?” 

I shake my head. 

She sighs. “I need time.” 

“Not too much time, I hope.” She doesn’t say anything for a long time. The silence between us saying more than our words do. I reach out and grab her hand, squeezing it. “I don’t know what else to say, Riley. Just think about it. I’ll be here, waiting.” I pull her hand up to my lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. Then, I turn and head down the hall. The ache in my chest, deep. Knowing that I hurt her is almost too much to bear. The issue with the story is awful, but not taking her side was worse. 

The only thing I can do now is try to make it up to her. 

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

A Thin Line Between Love & Hate ♛

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: Y/N, a fiery, new Avenger with the fighting prowess of Black Widow herself, and Bucky Barnes, a stubborn, ex-soldier with the demons and strength to prove it, don’t exactly get along, despite their many similarities. The two of them make it their mission to win against the other, making everything between them a competition. A sparring match gone awry and a midnight dip in the pool changes all of that. Let the games begin.

A/N: since the last Bucky fic I wrote did so well and I’ve been in a bit of a slump lately :( I decided to write what I’m familiar with, and I just had the pleasure of watching Bohemian Rhapsody in theaters (GO WATCH IT IT’S SPECTACULAR) and it’s caused a stroke of inspiration XD please enjoy this little story of my favorite smol winter bean even if it’s a flipping mess and lemme know what you think and if ya want more 

Warnings: mega fluff, a sparring match with violence ensues, sexual tension to the max, language

You clutch your gym bag to your side, slung over your shoulder haphazardly with little regard for style. The tank top you threw on clings comfortably to your waist, followed by a slipped on pair of athletic leggings that leave little of your curves to the imagination of your teammates. But at the moment, that’s the least of your worries, that, on the other hand, is running into James Buchanan Barnes a.k.a the human version of a paper cut. He’s stubborn, insistent, irritatingly charming and annoyingly good-looking, making it damn near impossible to muster up the strength to be angry with him (but you find a way anyway). He also has the sole purpose of teasing you to hell and back. Ever since the first day here, you’ve been at each other’s throats. And to this day, you still have no idea why.

You like to think it’s just a game, that you’re both only joking, but sometimes he’ll say things and the look on his face tells you otherwise. That perhaps you’ve gone too far. 

Then, proving your point, while passing you, he knocks his broad shoulder against yours in the narrow hall. You frown and kick your leg out, tripping him in the process, watching as he barely catches himself, struggling to stand up straight until using the wall to steady himself. He chuckles darkly, blowing hair out of his eyes.

You narrow your eyes at the Winter Soldier, “Do you do this to all the women you work with or am I just lucky?”

“Good morning to you too, doll,” he says gruffly as he helps himself up and dusts off his deep gray joggers, his own tank clinging to his muscles, the wind having been knocked out of him.

You pry your eyes away from him and tuck hair behind your ear, shaking your head, “It certainly was,” you drink in the frustration in his eyes cerulean eyes.

“You’re a real piece of work, Y/L/N,” he sighs, glancing at you with an amused expression, the conflict behind his eyes warring when you look back at him.

You grab him by the front of his shirt, crumbling the cotton material in your fist, his smirk only an inch away from your own lips and he lets you do it. “Then next time you’re walking down this hall, watch where you’re going and don’t knock into me. Or get it through your head that I’ll do it back.”

He shakes his head with a low laugh, looming over you, “That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day and no one will be there to save you.”

“Is that a threat?”

His lips twitch, “No, doll, it’s a warning.”

You let go of his shirt and push him back, the tempting look in his eyes frightens you, “It keeps you away, doesn’t it? Me running my mouth,” his resolve flickers. “I’m also more than capable of saving myself, I don’t run away from my problems.”

He rolls his eyes and frowns, “And you’re suggesting I do?”

“I thought I made that clear,” you tilt your head, toe to toe with the man.

“Oh, you did, I was just hoping I didn’t hear you correctly.”

“I have read that hearing deteriorates first when it comes to men of your age.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “Are you calling me elderly, Y/N?”

You look him over, enjoying this far too much when you nonchalantly shrug your shoulders, “If the denture fits.”

He snorts. “Funny,” he glances furtively at your mouth, how it curls at its edges. 

You laugh, enjoying this game of cat and mouse, the highlights of your day, you think, “I’d like to think so,” you smile before walking out of the hall and into gym, where the team trains every morning, leaving a confused Bucky to stew alone in the hall.

Steve sends you a smile when you enter the room and Tony’s shoots you a wink as you set down your things and watch patiently while Steve sets up the the boxing ring. It’s been awhile since the last match between any of you, but you wouldn’t mind throwing yourself back in, with the promise of high stakes of course. You’re never one to back down from a challenge.

Natasha smirks when you look over at her, regretting your decision when you see her signature scarlet smile, “Morning, Y/N, where’s your boyfriend?”

You force a laugh when you begin wrapping a bandage over your knuckles, a genuine one escaping when you look to see Barnes coincidentally enter the room himself. Shit, “I don’t have a boyfriend, Nat,” you look up at your friend, holding your mouth tightly. “You know that.”

“Be careful,” Tony pats your shoulder affectionately. “If he hears you’re single, he won’t hesitate to throw his hat in the ring. Literally...”

“You’re not helping, Stark,” you elbow his side, not doing much damage when he catches your arm in his hand. You rip your arm back from his grasp and he pokes your nose. You scrunch your face.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he grins. “But you’re seriously adorable when you’re angry.”

Bucky smiles at that.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

Steve cracks a smile while setting up and hearing the teasing, he avoids your glare when you hear him. Bucky pretends stays in the dark as to what you’re all whispering not-so-covertly about, every so often looking over at you.

“What about that guy Nick who asked for your number at the bar yesterday? He seemed pretty interested in filling that position for you,” Nat brings up after a spell of silence and you look at her, knowing what she’s trying to do.

Bucky’s ears perk up, tightening his metal fist at the thought of it. He knows he has no right to be jealous or possessive over you, not after the way he’s treated you, but he can’t help it, anger he’s never experienced before. Then, before you can argue with Nat, Steve speaks up.

“Alright,” Steve starts. “Who wants a turn in the r-”

Your hand shoots up first, grinning excitedly, “I do.”

“You need a partner, hotshot,” he chuckles at your enthusiasm, an idea sparking when he locks eyes with both Nat and Tony, flashing a smile when he looks at you. “How about Bucky?”

Your eyebrows shoot up and you laugh in disbelief, “You’re kidding... Right? You must be joking. Because if not, that serum has finally reached your brain and its messed up... something up there,” you shake your head.

“I’m not fighting a girl, Steve,” Bucky wraps his own bandage over his hand, chuckling deeply, resonating from his chest. Even if his jealousy was slowly growing and he wouldn’t mind a one on one with a punching bag, he’d never take it out on you. 

But something in you clicks when he says this, rubbing you the wrong way, “Because you’d lose,” you turn around, you simply couldn’t help yourself. If only you’d kept your mouth shut... 

He lifts an eyebrow, standing up straight with his arms folded over his broad chest, squaring his shoulders, “Is that right?”

“I guess we’ll never know, because we’re not doing it,” you look back at a smug Cap. Your blood boils when Bucky takes a step towards you and you stare him down, but it doesn’t do you much good. It’s consists more of staring up at him.

“It sounds to me, doll, like you’re the one who’s afraid you’ll lose,” he maintains a thoughtful expression, sizing you up. You furrow your brow.

“I just don’t want your pretty face to get hurt, that’s all, it is all you got going for you,” you tilt your chin up.

His eyes flash and you know you struck a nerve. He chuckles humorlessly, “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman,” he tells you. “Or I’d ask you to put your money where your mouth is. Since you always have so much to say.”

“A gentleman knows how to finish a fight, not start one,” you push your hands against his chest, sending him backwards after having enough. “So finish it.”

He looks at his chest and back at you, clenching his jaw, “Watch it, Y/N.”

“Come on, then,” you tell him, swinging your leg over the rings border and climbing inside. Steve and Tony share a worrisome look, wondering what they’ve started, Nat only leans forward, hoping to hear more. “Or are you going to keep running?” you throw over your shoulder.

It doesn’t take him long to ignore the inner turmoil creating in his gut. ducking under the border himself and stepping into the ring, commanding the attention of the room when he gets into his stance.

He swings the first punch, you duck under it and swing your leg out to send him on his back. You move to straddle him on the ground, but he’s back on his feet before the thought even crosses your mind, gripping your ankle when it flies towards his face. Your fist collides with his jaw, hitting just the corner of his mouth, he stumbles back, and he wipes at the cracked lip, staring in awe at the trickle of crimson staining his calloused finger.

Guilt settles in your stomach, and your form wavers, in your hesitation, his fist curls and the blow lands painfully into your shoulder. You grasp the sore area and fall back, catching yourself against the bordering ropes. The room goes silent, one giant, collective inhale of breath being the last thing you hear before Bucky’s face falls. He didn’t want to do this. To fight you, but here you are. You asked for it, you can’t back down now.

His chest heaves, his eyes full of guilt and fear, he gulps like he’s gasping for air, “Doll, I-”

You didn’t have time to freeze, to listen to what he’s saying. The punch only fuels your adrenaline and you flip him on his back, on top of him and straddling his waist. You throw a punch, aiming for the bridge of his nose, but he blocks it, taking your wrist in his to move you so you’re the one on your back. You ignore the heat rising to your face from being beneath him, caged under his muscular arms, holding himself above your frame with little to no effort. He could crush you if he wanted to, you wondered why he didn’t just finish it right here and now, that’s what you expected, after all. It does’t help that he smells so damn good.

“We can stop here and call it a tie,” he tells you, his cool, minty breath fanning over your flushed face, noses brushing whether you like it or not. You’d never admit to the former anyway. “I’m trying to help you, doll.”

You snort, “Don’t strain yourself,” you knee him in the groin and he topples over, unable to stand once again. You’re on your feet before him, declaring you the winner of the match. He went easy on you and you know it. Your chest rises and falls with each strenuous breath and you blow hair out from in front of your eyes, swinging your leg over the ropes again.

You couldn’t stand there and gloat, something you’d usually have no problem boating, to mess with him. But you’re still thinking about how you felt, when you were pinned beneath him, how your face burned, how your skin rubbed against his own, and how you still feel afterwards. But you hate him. You hate him.

Don’t you?

★★★

Bucky leans his back against the side of the rooftop pool atop the Avengers building, muscles aching from training, the cool water and night air relaxing him. He breathes slowly, hoping this isolation will help him forget the events of today, what he did. He hit you. You of all people. He never wanted to lay a hand on you, not only are you a woman, but you’re you. Not to mention the fact you can throw one hell of a punch as well, his split lip a consequence of that, his thumb brushing over it when it comes to mind.

His mind whirs, thinking about you, and his heart tightens in an unfamiliar, unspoken way. The same ache in his chest he’s felt since you got here, hoping if he’d ignore it and you, it’d make it all go away. But it’s only made the sensation worse, thinking back to having you underneath him, a dream he never thought would bloom into fruition. Just under different circumstances. If only he hadn’t have messed it up and pushed you away in the process, everyone in the room watching.

And that he doesn’t hate you. Not even a little. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s absolutely enamored with you.

You slide open the door leading to the roof, a cover-up wrapped around your waist, hugging yourself. You turn to close it and look back to see Barnes in where you were hoping to find empty. You cross your arms over your chest and look on at him, haven’t had talked to him since this morning.

Thinking against starting a verbal altercation with him once again, you instead ask softly, “Mind if I join you?” voice lost in the wind.

He shakes his head, looking up at you, afraid his hoarse voice will give way to his emotions. Bucky attempts to avert his eyes when you drop the cover-up, revealing a red two piece decorated with cherries, the bottoms high waisted and fitted to your curved waist. Then his eyes are falling over you and he simply can’t look away. His eyes are glued to you and you want to fight him on it, say something, but you can’t either.

Bucky admires the way your y/s/c skin illuminates in the milky, effervescent moonlight, gaze flicking back up to meet your eyes when you catch him staring. You only smile and brush him off. You descend the steps inside and sit across the pool from him, the bruise on your shoulder on display, weighing on his conscious.

He’s the first to break the silence, “Doll... I-I’m sorry.”

Your eyes follow where his lay on your bruised shoulder, shaking your head, “Don’t be, was my fault. I pushed you to fight when you didn’t want to. I shouldn’t have. I’ll heal,” you offer him a sweet smile, an expression he treats as a gift, a rare sight to see, especially when it comes to him. Well, one he knows of.

He returns the smile halfheartedly, arms spread out on either side of him, gripping onto the edge of the hot tub. The tension is slowly simmering away into something new, crossing the line between love and hate, the air growing heavier by the heated second. You sigh and push yourself off the wall, if you were going to talk you at least need to be able to hear him. You wade to the halfway mark of the pool, treading water. 

Bucky’s hands grow clammy, watching you move. Just like you did in the ring, elegantly and deliberately with an endearingly awkward clumsiness he finds more attractive than he should. He forces himself to think about what’s changed since this morning, why he’s feeling these things now. Then you look at him and it answers his question.

You run a hand through your wet tendrils of hair, fighting back a satisfied smirk, “Why the long face, Barnes?”

He leans forward, sitting up straighter on his ledge, enough to make droplets of water roll down his torso and catch your eye, finally coming out with it, “Why do you hate me?”.

You’re taken aback by his sudden question and you’re brutally aware of what your answer will do to the complicated relationship between you two. You run a hand through your hair and sigh, standing up, “I could ask you the same question.”

Bucky pulls his brow together, getting off the wall, “If I hate you? You think I hate you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you laugh, humorless and forced, you hope he’s joking. “You’ve made it your mission to tease and insult me since the moment I got here, you purposely bumped into me in the hall this morning as you do most days.” Getting so frustrated with him, you splash water at his face, earning a petty one back from him.

He runs his hands down his face, “Are you serious?” he looks at you, blinking hard like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. 

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Bucky, why else would you purposely run into me in the hallway? Or punch me in the fucking shoulder!”

He laughs loudly, slicking his long hair back and looking towards the sky as if he’d find the answer to his internal question written in starlight, “You told me to fight you. And I apologized immediately after because I never wanted to do it in the first place! You’re also the one that punched me in the jaw and split my lip first... Come on, dollface, you’re tougher than that. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you-”

“So was that your plan? Teasing me constantly, everyday, to prove I’m tougher than I look?” you snort and his face flushes red when you tug your lip between your teeth. “Mission accomplished then, Barnes, I know now. Satisfied?” 

He sighs, chuckling, “When did flirting with a dame become so damn challenging?” He smiles sadly, “Maybe I am old.”

You watch as his eyes fall on your lips even at this distance from one another and you, painfully so, do the same.

Stunned, your lips part slightly, sending him a silent, tantalizing invitation to wipe this confused look off your face and answer your question. By any extreme means possible. He groans aloud at the tempting pout of your baby pink lips, taking you by the hand to pull you to his chest, wet skin flushed together.

His calloused hands move up to cup your jaw, tilting your face towards him, he presses his desperate lips feverishly against your own, lighting your skin aflame. He kisses tentatively as if he’s walking into the home of an old friend and afraid he’s arrived too late, thumb brushing the ghost of a heart over your cheek. His plush lips taste of salt water and scotch liquor, tongue laced with smooth butterscotch candy he stole from your bedroom. And suddenly you’re craving the sweetness, too. Your arms fall helplessly to his chest, listening to the lullaby of Bucky’s slowly rising heartbeat, humming pleasantly at the thought that that’s of your doing. A whimper escapes your shaky lips when his tongue slips in your mouth just as his hands wander to grip your thighs beneath the water, hoisting you up. He eases your legs to wrap around his waist and hold on.

Both of you break away at once, swollen, pink lips still brushing with the sworn promise of meeting again, nudging your nose against his when you exhale. Your eyes flutter closed again, paired with a simple, soft smile, muttering quietly, “...Oh.” 

He cracks a smile, kissing just below your mouth, muttering a silent love letter in your skin, “Maybe if you didn’t ramble so much, you’d have been silent long enough for me to do this.”

“Screw you.”

His stormy eyes darken, complementing nicely with his seductive grin, “Maybe later, doll.”

You tilt your chin up to capture his awaiting lips with your own, wrapping your arms wantonly around his neck, a gesture he eagerly returns with a squeeze of your ass. You gasp into the kiss, The man is a human radiator, exuding heat, in his touch, in his kiss, in his skin, warming your body from the inside out. 

Bucky buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing you in the spot sure to make you squirm in his touch. Then he stops, something coming over him when he moves up to lean his forehead against your own, meeting your lust blown eyes.

His face burns under your expectant gaze, cursing himself for not doing this sooner, “Are we... are we really doing this?” he says when you place a calculated kiss underneath his jaw, letting your tongue trace his hot skin, only fueling the fire before whispering,

“Meet me inside in ten minutes and find out.”

[shijiujun]

history3 ep 19 summary - GEMS, GEMS AND MORE GEMS, EVERYTHING YOU EVER WANTED

ALRIGHT! Summary today! You guys already know all the important gems of the story because I’ve been fucking yelling all night I apologise sincerely for the spam guys I truly do I know how annoying it can be but I’m so excited!!!!

We start off with TY already in fucking handcuffs and Zhao Zi standing there all hovering against the wall, and TY is obviously regretful as hell and so remorseful and also once again catatonic because his SF is in the hospital again because of him, and this time DIRECTLY BECAUSE OF HIM - although i’m super curious, in between everything when did TY have time to call zz? you know?!!! and zz turns up and he’s like OHHHH FUCKKKK and: “okay guys, one of you take ah zhi, and hi tang yi, sorry gotta handcuff ya, oops”

OMG MY HANDSOME DR JIANG IS BACK!!! he’s such a sassy little bitch i love it so much!! anw he comes out and his face is like ‘guys can’t you just give me a fucking break’ and then zz takes one good look and goes: “i’ll leave you both to talk”

dr jiang says: “you look worse than the guy who was actually shot, in there” and then sits down next to TY

ty asks how he is and LMAO dr jiang is all like: “how else can he be?! he’s awake and asking for HIS MAN (like literally, dr jiang said HIS MAN) and lol i just died (more gems from dr jiang: i think that police officer, his brain is sick, only then he’ll actually want to be with you) - anw basically dr jiang is telling TY that with TY being so adamant on revenge, it’s only SF that’s willing to be with him, and if TY continues to be like this, the only person who’ll get hurt is SF

AND DR JIANG STANDS UP TO TAKE A CALL AND HE IS FACE TIMING THE BROTHER OF THE EX-WIFE FROM RIGHT OR WRONG?!! CUTE AS HELL - IS THIS A HINT? I LOVE CROSS OVERS

then TY goes inside the room and that’s when he hears the beeping - the emergency patient beep? and that’s when we see TY scrambling over like a little chick in panic because he’s afraid SF is dead, and then he’s just shaking SF and SF is not responsive at all?! and then poor TY is about to do CPR (although yea TY babe maybe you might have wanted to call dr jiang or smth?!!!!) and that’s when shao fei goes: “if you worry about me, then don’t let me die”

FIRSTLY - SHITTY JOKE BECAUSE TY WAS ABOUT TO CRY HE WAS SNIFFLING ALR SHAO FEI!!!

SECONDLY - TY YOU SHOT HIM, SO OKAY, FINE, SF IS ENTITLED TO A JOKE OR TWO

omg it’s so tender and sweet the way SF grabs TY to sit down and then leaning his cheek against his shoulder and trying to convince ty that killing ah zhi is a bad idea you know?

and then ty stands up, walks away dramatically, and then promises sf that he’ll hand He hand and ah zhi over to the police

AND THAT’S WHY SF IS SO TOUCHED AND THEN HE JUST MOVES FOR THE KISS BECAUSE HE IS SO THANKFUL AND HE LOVES TY

and then OMFUCKINGGOD - HANDCUFFS + KISS IS A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN I LOVE THE WAY HE JUST, HE JUST-

TY LITERALLY JUST BROUGHT HIM CLOSER

SEXY!!!! YOU GO TANG YI

and then if you’ve seen my gifs alr, zz cockblocks them and turns up and goes: “i gotta take him”

ahahahah and then cue to emo team 3 scene and I FEEL YOU YU QI I FEEL YOU she’s like a metaphor for the fandom right now: anw zhao zi, jun wei and yu qi are there and they’re all drinking and yu qi is literally just sobbing about how the team is only left with them, and zz and yq are angry at chief and ah zhi for being corrupt basically

zz drinks and drinks (jun wei, responsible member of the party), and then he is a bit tipsy and walks home, and then he comes to this stairs area where jack is waiting (JACK DO YOU GOT SOME GPS ON ZZ?!) and jack looks at him carefully and goes: “you’ve been drinking? you’re not happy?”

poor zz is all: “of course not! i’m happy. i found out that when ppl have motives, they actually have another face, a facade - just based on this, i should celebrate, no?” /CUE MY HEART BREAKING

so zz is saying that he became a policemen because he wanted to do good things, to protect people, but look at chief and ah zhi?! 

and then they kinda sit down on the stairs, and jack says: “i’m here to tell you that i have to go” and then that’s when zz says all those words that we heard in the trailer? (so i think they overlayed this angsty dialogue with the footage from tmr where zz shrugs off jack’s hand on him as they go home)

and zz is all why do you all have to go? everyone is leaving me - grandma, chief, ah zhi, and now you? and then he’s totally tearing up and OMG MY SMOL BEAN?!!!! - yeah he’s all that and then jack asks: “if you tell me not to go, i’ll stay for you”

OMGAHHH?!!!

so zz says: “don’t go”

AND THEN THEY KISS?!!!! AND THEN THEY KISS AND HUG AND CARESS AND WE END OFF THE SCENE WITH ZZ curling up against jack’s shoulder I LOVE IT!!!!

next scene is police chief - okay can i pls say that, for someone who’s actually a criminal albeit treated with some leniency because he owned up to his crimes, THAT IS A FUCKING NICE PRISONER’S ROOM?!!! like wow, taiwan police system, amazing

anw shao fei turns up IN THE FUCKING DAPPER SUIT?!!! altho i would prefer him in a single coloured suit, he should leave those lines and patterns to TY, also WHERE IS MY TY DROOLING OVER SF IN A SUIT SCENE?!! WHERE?! WHY DID U ROB ME OF THAT?!!!!

also that bow tie is damn fucking big is it just me

anw so xiao ya got married, and SF took a long video for chief to see, and chief is crying and everything (okay srsly if i knew my dad was a criminal and everything and was about to see jail time i would have cancelled the wedding because NOOOO DAD!!! but that’s just me) - also xiao ya and shao fei sibling-ish moments?!!! WHERE ARE THESE?!

anw sf and chief have a heart to heart talk, and that’s when chief says: “ah fei, actually, i hated you.”

CUE SF’S DISTRAUGHT FACE>?!!!!

and chief explains that it’s because he was so persistent, when everyone had dropped it he insisted on going after tang yi and then shao fei says: “but lao da, you didn’t stop me either”

lao da: “yeah, i didn’t”

sf: “and that’s because, even though you chose to be a father to xiao ya with your decision, you didn’t give up being a policeman, even with what you did. that’s why you didn’t stop me”

and awwww chief cries and sf sits next to him and they just comfort each other I LIVE FOR THIS SHIT!!!

(although guys, srsly, what is with this long time skips? what’s going on? what day is it? what time is it?!!!)

next scene back at the police station, the rest of team 3 are clearing up ah zhi and chief’s stuff, and they all look miserable as fuck, and then GOOD AND SUPPORTIVE GIRL YU QI asks sf about how tang yi is, and here we find out tang yi is under house arrest pending the investigation results. yu qi asks, what if he goes to jail?

sf looks so sad at that but he says: “i’ll wait for him”

and then zz runs in and asks everyone if they’ve heard of the new hire, for the captain position? AND ISTG I THINK THIS MAY BE JACK?!!!!

next scene, our boy sf is meeting up upstanding citizen, recently turned dad CWH, and wow the sunlight on them, the lack of a shady setting and hair all styled nicely does a lot of things for a person HAHAHAHAHA - SF carefully calls him ‘uncle’ and then they talk about li zhen, and CWH has only praise for SF, that when everyone had written LZ off as a dirty cop only sf was clearing her name - THE IN LAW IS IMPRESSED GUYS!!! and then they get to talking about tang yi, and CWH is all self-pitying and dejected: “i just found my son but... i guess he and i, we can’t ever have a proper father and son relationship, can we?”

AWWWWW and this is when THERAPIST!SHAOFEI comes in, istg he’s been comforting everyone and solving everyone’s problems, amazing - he says something along the lines of: “ty needs a lot of love, so don’t give up”

and just from that line alone cwh knows that: “so you... and ty... are..?”

AHAHAHAHAHA IM DYING - and then SF gets all determined and says: “yeah we’re together”

cwh: LAUGHS “i’ve got no place to say anything, thank you for being by his side” - WOOHOOOOO CWH APPROVES OF HIS DAUGHTER-IN-LAW AMAZING

and then they fucking hug

oh god, this is one of the best hugs of the damn show

i swear to god, the best hug goes to cwh-sf, can you frickin imagine?!!!!! the tight, comforting hug?!!! do you know that?! that’s all i ever wanted from my CPs?!!!! but no we get it between father in law and son in law WHY!!! i mean it was really great i loved it but GOOD HUGS ARE SOMETIMES BETTER THAN SEX

BACK TO OMELETTE SCENE - so obviously even tho ty is under house arrest, sf has free pass to go in and out of the house, and they’re so sweet with one another

ty: “why did you go and bother with that old man?!”

and sf is all trying to mend the relationship between them, to remind ty that it’s okay to take ur time, but you’ve got a second chance (or third, actually), so you may regret it if you miss this opp. - and tang yi considers this, then changes the subject over food AS ALWAYS

the “I LOVE YOU” part comes up (pls see gifs) - and they’re all so sweet with each other?!!!! and just as sf is about to go in for more, ty is like “hey, don’t mess around, we gotta do our omelettes first” AND SHAO FEI HONESTLY JUST POUTS!!!! I FEEL YA SF 

and okay is it just me or do the omelettes look not so nice - the right side one especially AAHAHAHAHAHA and they banter over putting the ‘dead face’ on the omelette and sf is all: “i’ve taught you so many times!!! there must be a smile!!! why did you put that?!!” AND THEY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER

and then we get the next scene, OKAY SO THIS IS THE PART WHERE I WAS LIKE WTF WRITERS DID U GUYS REALLY GO THERE?!!!

FIRSTLY, THEY BLURRED THE COMIC ZZ IS READING ON HIS BED 

SECONDLY, HIS HAND ACTION? ARE U KIDDING ME?

SO HE’S BASICALLY READING WEIRD STUFF AND LIKE jerking himself off?!!!!!!!! like okay writers, we could have done without this scene, srsly, i mean either you do it entirely OR YOU DONT - IN THIS CASE I PREFERRED - DON’T!!!!!

EDIT: OKAY SO HE WASN’T - went back to look at the shot after and yes i was blind - but they really were setting it up for that!!! come on so suggestive that under blanket hand movement?!!!! i’m glad it wasn’t but OMG MY EYES for a moment i wanted to die but our zz is pure and he wasn’t touching anything weird sorry guys bad eyesight

then jack turns up at his house with a bag (that LOOKS DAMN LIGHT?! JACK WTF WHERE ARE YOUR CLOTHES DID U TURN UP WITH AN EMPTY BAG?!) 

so jack basically moves himself in - amazing

OHANA GUYS OHANA MEANS NO ONE GETS LEFT BEHIND!!!!

and they kiss, and jack bend zz backwards on the table (hygiene, but then again, jack will clean up anyway)

QUESTIONS:

would have love to find out more about LZ and TGD and wtf was going on properly - it’s hinted at but LOOPHOLES GALORE

ALL THE SCENES I WANTED ARE OUT - WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENIGN TMR?!

omg today was 35 min, and i fricking pray that tmr at least will be 15-20 min LIKE IF U END IT IN 5 MINUTES, we’re all gonna die, then i prefer if we’ve shifted scenes from today to tomorrow

although i have some hope because they’ve got to resolve still, jack and zz, and then ty’s ‘sentence’ if there is, and then grave scene and then the sex scenes if we do get them as promised, idc if we get them or not AS LONG AS WE GET AT LEAST 15-20 MIN WORTH OF CONTENT TOMORROW!!

[swluminekin]

My decade.

2010: You graduate college! It’s supposed to be a great year! Only it’s not. Your  mother makes your graduation about her (which ends up being a reoccurring thing over the decade, you’ll find). You have difficulty trying to find a job for longer than “temporary” or “seasonal.” Your godmother passes away due to cancer. Your grandmother has a stroke. But hey, at least you worked on the yard that really needed work and you got a new kitten... right? And hey, end of the year you’ve been with your girlfriend for two years.

2011: You start taking classes again. You want to get better in your field of study but also have to take some business courses that your parents want you to take. You continue to try and find a job, only able to find a temporary one that is off and on for a publishing company that makes and grades “standardized tests” for various states.

2012: You’re taking classes still, but you finally find a job that’s steady. Sure it’s minimum wage, but you have a roof over your head and you don’t have to pay your parents rent (yet). Things are going alright for the most part?

2013: You’re forced to stop taking classes as your student loans really kick in. You aren’t making much more money and it’s really kicking your ass. You can still spend time with your girlfriend and go to conventions. You’re doing okay, but you know you can do better. This is also when the job you have starts acting strange and starts to trade management companies.

2014: You’re not making much more than minimum wage. Sure you can spend time with your girlfriend but it’s getting ridiculous with how many times your workplace has changed management companies. It’s time to change jobs - and you do. After two long weeks, you finally get to your new job that’s local and you’re actually making more. You have cool manager and fit it perfectly. It’s a dream. Sure all jobs have their issues but you like it here. Conventions are still good and you’re doing alright.

2015: Yay! Gay marriage is legal across the board in your country! Great time to be you, right? Only it’s not. You’ve known since high school that your mother is homophobic and you had learned that you’re bi. You’re not surprised that not only did she ask you/call you out about it about it, but when you actually announced it to others that you got backlash from her. Your girlfriend is no longer allowed to spend the night if they’re there. She flat out asks that if you were to get married to a girl, if she can “pretend it’s a guy” during the ceremony. It still stings. She calls you autistic, insulting you and people with autism. You start having to pay rent every paycheck - $50 per, but it’s not terrible at the start. She and your dad also make you get a “big girl job” because they want you in a job like theirs. And you do... for two months. Call centers are not your thing, especially since you have high anxiety. You get to go to Texas Ren Fair for your birthday. You go back to your former job - the one you like - and they take you back with open arms. And hey! You’re back in time for the holidays, so bonus! Oh! And you start watching Mark and Jack during this year! Great! You meet a new guy friend this year and you hit it off really well.

2016: You had it rough before? No, this year is hell. And it wasn’t actually your fault, but you get the brunt of it. It was because two former friends (one of who is a mutual ex-boyfriend with your girlfriend because you were the “other girl”) cause you hell. You and your girlfriend go on break for about two months but are still friends. One of the hell-raisers makes your life even worse and sends a message to your mother, making both your parents hate you. A couple of your friends help you try and figure things out. You realize that you do need to start changing a bit, but that also the hell-raisers are just straight up jerks. You get back with your girlfriend. Your parents eventually remember you aren’t a nightmare child but your relationship is never the same. This is the last time you see your mother’s family for almost two years. Why? Because she has her reasons and never clearly tells you. You also lose your grandfather on your dad’s side the day after your birthday. Halloween is spent driving back home after the funeral because you’re parents decided to take their camper to “save money” on hotel rooms. You also have to buy a car because of various events that happen that you just don’t like talking about. Literally the only things getting you through this year are your out-of-state friends that you talk to over Skype, your girlfriend, your local friends and the Youtubers you watch (Mark, Jack, Naka and the Yogscast). You also start realizing more and more that you are not just bisexual, but pansexual... as well as polyamorous.

2017: You’re basically paying every single bill other than utilities and groceries now - loans, insurances, car, (low) rent. You’re not surprised and you’re budgeting very well. And hey! Look at that! You get to meet two of your out-of-state friends and it’s great! You also get to go to your first Wizard World which is amazing because you get to meet Nichele Nichols and Michael Rooker! Your Halloween wasn’t exactly the best, though... And you also found out that one of those people who caused you hell last year (2016) still wants to give you hell so you have to start blocking them (if you can) before they start following you. You also are forced to start warning your various online friends that if those two start to try and follow or make nice nice with them, why it is and what they’ve done to you. You also are informed later in the year that your parents are wanting to move back to Kansas after your dad retires - and you don’t want to.

2018: It’s crunch time to find a place to stay before you’re forced to move with your parents. You just barely do it, considering yourself lucky that a local woman was willing to take you in (yes you’re paying rent, but you have your bill paying down now). You’re a little upset that you’re girlfriend doesn’t want to move out with you - having figured this would be a step for both of you - but you shrug it off for a while. You start to reconnect with your mother’s family since she’s two states away. No conventions this year even though you want to so badly, but you just can’t afford it. You figure it’s okay, though. You’re working hard and you’re doing your best to stay where you are. Two of your friends move half a country away and you have a farewell dinner with them with your girlfriend, your boyfriend (the guy friend from three years ago) and your girlfriend’s boyfriend. You get closer with the Jacksepticeye community, taking part in a project and actually talking with more people. You gain a small family of online friends. Halloween and your birthday are still rough and you’re trying to figure out why. At Christmas you take your first plane trip in 29 years up to Kansas to see your parents new place and also to spend time with them for the holiday, flying back down New Years Eve to spend time with your girlfriend and give her that traditional midnight kiss while on call with your online family.

2019: You lose one of your online family because they wanted you out of their life. You still try to help them but they treat you like garbage until they try to apologize. You tell them they hurt you and how when you tried to help them they pushed you away. You tell them it would take a while to be friends again and they block you. You lose someone else who you thought was a friend but turned out to be extremely toxic. Honestly, this is for the better. You lose the will to theorize for a while due to a couple of incidents in two different communities. You eventually get back up and write a theory that others like as well. You eventually find your own sort of art style and enjoy it, and apparently so do others! You start donating more and feel like you’re actually doing something for the world. You break it off with your girlfriend of 10 1/2 years. You had been more like friends since before the move last year and things felt off. You realize how much you love your boyfriend and how much he loves you. You’re working hard and even got a little bit of a raise! Once again no conventions this year and you really miss them, but you’re saving up for that one day when you’ll eventually get to meet Jack at a con and you’re doing so well at it too. You’re playing games again, You actually feel free and you turn 32. Birthday and Halloween are still bad - you figure they have some sort of curse on them now. The rest of the year goes smoothly with some hiccups here and there but everything works out. Also, toward the end of the year, you learn that while you’re pansexual and polyamorus, you find more and more that your love comes from that bond that you gain once you actually know people and start asking if there is something like that. Maybe your a demi-pan? You’re still unsure.

2020: You’re excited for a new year and a new decade, hoping it will be better than the last. You you have people who love you, you have everything planned out. Things are good. So far on this first day, though, you have a slight hiccup in your happiness as your friend puts up a blatant lie about something that happened a year ago. You have the support of your online family though, especially since you were on call with two of them when the thing happened. Things will be better this year and this decade. You can feel it.

[vipers-hat]

All for Grant. >:3c

1) How do they respond to having a song stuck in their head? Does that happen to them often? “Oh God, not that one again” then begrudgingly play it til its out of his head. 

2) How do they feel about confronting their friends when issues arise? He’ll only confront them if the situation turns absolutely dire/Grant thinks the friendship is on the brink of disintegrating. He’ll try to keep his own feelings close to his chest if he thinks it’ll lead to a confrontation. 

3) When speaking to themselves in their mind, how do they refer to themselves? “You” and a buncha self-deprecating or self-preserving adjectives. 

4) Do they enjoy wearing socks/stockings when they aren’t wearing shoes? Not really. Socks get annoying after a while. 

5) Do they have any unappealing habits (ex: picking their nose, hawking loogies)? Does nearly nonstop self-hate count?

6) How do they cope with losing a game? Shrug it off and move on

7) How do they cope with losing an argument? Same as the last answer

8) How do they cope with losing a friend? Fuck him up entirely. Losing one if they part ways after a fight is right up there with losing his friends in that skirmish, so a lot of anger/grief goes internal and he either shuts down or turns the blame on himself. 

9) How do they cope with losing a lover? Not as upset about losing a friend, but close. It takes him a while to decide he’s even worthy of love, so it’s an outlook of “they’re better off without me.” 

10) Do they enjoy sitting on countertops? I wouldn’t say “enjoy” but he does if the place he’s in is cramped and the space allows for it. 

11) How expressive is their face? Are they easy to read? Not very expressive/he usually keeps a neutral face, but he expresses himself a lot via expressions, so when he does react to something, a little goes a long way. 

12) How do they deal with experiencing physical pain?  He’s got a high pain threshold, so he basically just rolls with it. 

13) Are they easily insulted? Not at all

14) Would they prefer to act or react? Depends on the situation. In general, react, if there’s an emergency or someone is in danger, then definitely act first. 

15) How would they respond to performing on stage? The only way to get him up on a stage would be if you had to administer medical attention on a flat surface while he was unconscious. Can’t respond to being up there if you go out of your way to never get on a stage. 

16) Would they ever wear perfume or cologne? When? What would the scent be? He’s not a cologne guy in the least. 

17) Could their personality or interests be considered “flighty?” Do they change their mind/interests often? Not at all. He’s got a small handful of interests that never really change/suit him just fine, so he’s happy with them. 

18) Do they daydream? Of what? All of the “what if”s if his life hadn’t gone to shit. 

19) What is the most inappropriate thing they have ever done in public? Decked a guy in passing for poking fun at an injured homeless vet. It was an emotional day for him to begin with, and it’s not ‘inappropriate’ per se, but he’s still not entirely thrilled he did something that escalated that quickly. 

20) What was their favorite toy as a child? Little He-Man figures that his uncles got him. 

21) What was their favorite way to play as a child (ex: playing pretend, playing games with rules like tag,)? Playing pretend, though usually it was basically only half a game, because he’d pretend to be a rancher/cowboy in the Old West while helping out at his uncles’ farm. 

22) How do the sneeze (ex: loudly, quietly, openly, into their elbow, hold the sneeze in)? Tries to be as quiet as possible, into his arm 

23) When engaged in an irritating conversation, how to they conduct themselves? Lots of smiling and nodding. 

24) What words make them cringe? “Purpose” , “square” (in a ‘town square’ sense), “guilt”

25) How do they feel in large crowds? Fairly comfortable, though the soldier in him is constantly noting how many exits are around/what have you in case of an emergency where he has to get people out. 

26) Would they ever spend an afternoon in a library? What section would they spend the most time in? He probably wouldn’t, but if he had to, probably any place with the comfiest chairs. 

27) Do they find it difficult to try new foods? Not at all, he’s willing to try new things right off the bat. 

28) If a friend asked them to taste something and it turned out to be unpleasant, how would they handle it? Not let them see him struggle with it, keep his face/voice as pleasant as possible. He’d rather die than hurt their feelings. And he’d wait a few minutes/at least a couple of it’s a quick cooking process and make ‘harmless suggestions’ to try and improve the dish - but deliver the suggestions so blase so it doesn’t seem like he’s actively correcting them and they think it’s mostly their personal change, ie: “Oh, that could use... I don’t know, little something for an extra little kick” “Hmm. Oh, I could add more sugar, even out some of the bitterness!” “Perfect!” 

29) Do they wear underwear? 100% of the time, yes

30) Can they pee in front of other people? Only people he’s close to/has known for years. 

31) What story gave them nightmares as a child? When his parents talked about getting promotions and the like - which meant less time for him, so he’d dream about them leaving him somewhere/forgetting him/being all alone etc. 

32) How would they respond to being handed an infant? Absolutely petrified. He would hate it, fear that he’s tainting the kid and try to hand them off to someone else the first chance they got. He’d definitely have to have someone right there next to him to reassure him that he’s being really good with them. Which is a crime because most babies usually immediately love him. 

33) How would they respond to being asked to watch over a child for an afternoon? “Uuuuhhh is there.... someone... else? More qualified?” 

34) Do they enjoy climbing trees? No. Doesn’t really see the point. 

35) In which of their own skill sets do they have the most confidence? Why? Threat assessment while referring to people, because it’s what he was good at in the Army. 

36) Do they enjoy receiving compliments? How do they respond to it? Laugh it off and be super dismissive about it. “Thanks, but not really.” 

37) How often are they the one to initiate physical contact? Not very often. He’s got to be in a rare affectionate mood to initiate. If someone else initiates he’d be happy to go along with it, though.

38) Do they prefer salty or sweet things? Sweet

39) Do they get the urge to jump from high places? ... ... You all know the angsty direction I could take this which is ABSOLUTELY true, but for now I’ll say no and be lying through my teeth. 

40) Have they every written a dirty letter and actually sent it? Not at all. Dirty communication of any kind isn’t his forte. 

41) How would they describe their love life?  “Non-existent and loving it” (John or Matthew walk by) “... ... Okay so that was an outright lie and I’m happy.” 

42) How would they describe their sex life? “Not bad” - he borders on ace so it doesn’t happen much, which he’s absolutely fine with. 

43) Do they hide objects? What and where? He doesn’t hide any objects. He figures he hides enough of his personal life, why add more things to the list? 

44) What are their reasons for getting up in the morning (outside of achieving their main goal)? Again there’s a very heavy, very true, very angsty answer that I could go with, but for now - he doesn’t want to disappoint and/or worry Nic, John or Matthew, so he’ll get up for them, then genuinely enjoy the day just because he gets to spend time with them. 

45) Who is their greatest confidant? Who confides in them? Nic. She was the first one in years to not pry into his life with annoying, over-asked questions. She didn’t constantly give him pitying looks either. She treated him like a regular person and let him come to her with details about his life, so she earned his trust and friendship, and that gives her confidant status. And it’s mutual for that reason. 

46) What is something they’ve always wanted to do, but know they shouldn’t? Tell off his parents for being shitty people. He could, but there’s already been so much damage between them and done to himself he’s afraid he’d rip apart what shreds of a relationship they have left. 

47) Is there someone whose laugh makes them laugh as well? Nic again, John on occasion, Whitehorse, Matthew

48) How festive are they on holidays? Depends on who he’s with. If he’s alone, he’ll be vaguely festive. Put him with Nic, or whichever boyfriend he has depending on the Universe, or his family he does have a good relationship with: “Hell yeah, give me that ugly sweater, Hell yeah I’ll help you with the ham, Hell yeah I’ll play Santa for the kids.” 

49) How would they respond to their ears ringing for an extended period of time? Would drive him absolutely bonkers and he’ll try any trick in the book to make it stop. 

50) How likely is it that they would be the first to point out a full moon or a beautiful sunset? He wouldn’t be the first to point it out but he’d be the first to notice it. 

[mlpdestinyverse]

“Royal Run-In”

So an ex-prince, an artist, and a socialite meet in front of an ice cream shop...

Feat.  Monochrome,  Nova Spark,

Story and Description Under The Cut

-On a sunny and bustling street of the great city of Canterlot, a well-dressed young mare strolls along with her head held high, humming a cheerful tune. In one foreleg she holds a lace parasol, twirling it above her every so often. She moves as though she is a sight to be envied, the elegant curls of her hair bouncing along her back with each peppy step. As she passes by ponies she offers sweet smiles and friendly greetings, earning many back in return. As she rounds a corner, taking in the beautiful sights of the grand city, a display of stylish dresses in a shop window on the other side of the street catches her eye. The mare admires them, contemplating whether to cross the street to get a better look. But due to being distracted she squeaks as she bumps into something - the back of somepony sitting hunched over at a table, just outside of an ice cream shop- Heather: *feels a tinge of annoyance for the blunder and the eyes she had drawn, but puts on her best sheepish smile. She speaks with an accented voice, one meant for a proper lady of social standing* Oh I'm so very sorry, love! I wasn't quite paying attention- -Heather cuts herself off as the other pony sits up and turns around. She soon finds herself wide-eyed, tilting her head back further and further just to find the pegasus' face. And there, she sees a familiar set of green eyes staring back at her. Heather's own eyes almost bulge at the sight of Monochrome Dashielle, nearly a foot taller and...very much in-shape, if the toned muscles underneath their light coat say anything. She's ready to briskly leave, forcing the run-in to end there, until- Monochrome: *calmly appraises her, closing the sketchbook in their hooves* Hello Heather. Heather: *internally curses, knowing she can't ignore a greeting of familiarity now, not with so many ponies within ear-shot. She forces a smile* Monochrome! Hello! *looks them up and down again* I...didn't recognize you! -Heather nervously shifts her eyes. Some ponies glance their way, surely curious of someone of high stature like her speaking to a normal citizen, but thankfully they continue on their way. Her attention only returns when she hears the pegasus hum- Monochrome: *stoically glances down at themself, then back at her* Yes...I suppose puberty was kind. Heather: *tenses, absolutely loathing the jab. Yet manages a stiff laugh* I suppose it was! Monochrome: *stares at her smile before meeting her eyes* ...I see you haven't changed much. -Heather desperately wants to scoff, or roll her eyes, but knows such ill-temper would land her in deep water. Canterlot, after all, is vast and so unlike the schools she had attended and proudly stood at the top of. Ponies here, especially in the higher classes, are willing to believe and chatter about the tiniest of things, reputation of a pony be damned. She has no choice but to keep in check her desire to tell off those who manage to insult her or get in her way. So she opts for option two: sweetly put them in their place- Heather: *gives a cheerful, sugary grin* Oh Monochrome dear, don't be so silly! So much has changed, actually~ You wouldn't believe it! *takes a step back so Monochrome can get a good look at her and all of her glory, dressed with only the finest of fabrics* Moving to Canterlot after I graduated Friendship Academy was truly a dream, darling~ It didn't take long for me to meet the love of my life! *proudly touches the golden ring hanging from her neck* You are looking at one Lady Heather Tart Reed~ *waves a hoof* Or Heather Reed for short. Mister Reed is a darling noble stallion. You should've seen us! We started off as business partners and just fell absolutely in love! Our company has been growing rapidly and successfully ever since~ Monochrome: Wow. Heather: *barely holds back her smirk* I know~ So much has happened in only a few years! Monochrome: No I mean you....actually managed to get married. Heather: *feels a vein twitch in her head. She pushes out a giggle* Of course I did! My dear is just absolutely smitten with me. *twirls her hair around her hoof* I have him wrapped around my hoof, really~ Monochrome: Huh. Poor guy. Heather: *plastering back on her sugary smile she rests her hooves on her cheeks and makes a show of glancing over Monochrome's form* So what about you, sweetheart? I don't see a ring on you. *flutters her eyelashes* Don't tell me you don't have a partner yet! Oh how awful! -Monochrome calmly stares back at her, and for a moment, Heather thinks she's struck them- Monochrome: *hums and glances off to the side* He's a partner. Just not the kind you're thinking of. He's one of Canterlot's most brilliant minds, actually. -With great timing, both ponies hear the bell of the ice cream shop chime as someone exits. Looking up, they see a short purple stallion wander out. He holds two ice cream cups within his magenta magic, scrutinizing the larger of them with squinted blue eyes-

Nova: Okay, so they didn't have my carrot spice gelato, so I caved and got their weekly special...

-Heather almost cringes at the treat. It's some sort of red velvet and milk chocolate ice cream sundae, littered with dark swirls of fudge and topped with large brownie chunks, strawberry syrup, and black and white sprinkles. She watches the stallion stare at it with a mix of awe and fear-

Nova: Chrome, if this kills me, tell my mom- *finally looks up and stops, noticing another pony with Monochrome* Oh...uh sorry, didn't know you had company.

Monochrome: I wouldn't call her that.

Heather: *smiling wide, she tilts her head and speaks through gritted teeth* Oh, Monochrome, you're just...an endless sea of wit, aren't you? Monochrome: *corner of their mouth twitches* It's all I have nowadays.

Nova: *snorts, light-heartedly rolling his eyes* Not true, but okay.

-Heather finds herself going quiet as she watches the unicorn stallion place the cups at Monochrome's table. A weird feeling of familiarity continuously gnaws at her as she stares at him. The brilliant colors of his mane strike her, yet no matter how much she tries, no sense of recognition hits her as she scans his face. It's almost as if she's failing to register it, compared to everything else about him. She's tempted to ask him if they've met before.

Heather then glances at his cutie mark and softly gasps. As an avid admirer of the princesses, she can recognize that brilliant spark from anywhere.-

Heather: (!!) *straightens excitedly* Nova Spark! Prince Nova Spark! Of course!

-Nova Spark tenses as Heather's exclamation garners attention and murmurs from surrounding ponies. The onlookers nosily try to take a peek, as they naturally would with a royal nearby. However, to Heather's surprise, Monochrome stands and moves to Nova's most exposed side, blocking the view of the staring ponies. Mo sends an uncomfortably intense stare back at them, forcing a number of them to flinch or look away, if not making them give glances sparingly.

Nova relaxes a bit, but not for long. Heather tucks her closed parasol under her arm and steps forward to happily take Nova's hooves into her own. She almost misses the deliciously irked look that crosses Monochrome's face as she does. This is her chance to impress the eavesdroppers and bystanders with oh-so-wonderful pleasantries and familiarity. She's sure that as she is now, she can finally charm him- Heather: *gives her award-winning sweet smile* Oh Prince Nova, I knew you looked familiar! It's so good to see you again! The glasses are quite a look! Nova: *stares at her, wide-eyed, before slowly turning his head to make eye contact with Monochrome, as if searching for some answer* Monochrome: *sighs heavily and shrugs, waving a hoof at him to go on* Nova: ....*turns back to Heather just as slowly* I uh...do I know you? Heather: *giggles. She can only guess how different she looks from her old drab self* 'Course you do, love~! We went to the same Friendship Academy! I was Heather Tart back then! Nova: .... Heather: We worked together during a few group projects~? Nova: ....*slowly raises an eyebrow* Heather: ...*sweats, smile slowly straining* Y-you and I earned some of the highest test scores in our grade, deary! Remember? -Mentally, Heather finds herself recalling that they went to Friendship Elementary too. But of course he wouldn't remember that. He was always so interested in...Eventide. So much so, Heather could never capture his attention for long. Oh how she had loathed that. All because Eventide had connections with his family. She patiently waits for him to ponder over it. Even if he can't remember right away, she knows a well-trained prince like himself would have the common decency to at least feign recognition.- Nova: *breathes in deeply, shoulders rising...only for his whole posture to fall at once, staring at her cluelessly* Yeah no, I got nothing. Sorry. -Heather can't stop her eye from twitching. Hearing a snerk, her gaze then shoots up to find Monochrome hiding half of their face behind their sketchbook. She doesn't need to see their mouth to notice the amused crinkle of their eyes. Who knew the prince was so...blunt. But even if ponies are listening in, she still has a chance to recover. If anything, his memory failure would just look bad on him.- Heather: *quickly pats his hoof* Oh don't worry! It has been a few years, my prince! Nova: *strains a smile, one that looks nothing but forced and awkward* Stick with 'Nova'. Heather: *laughs* How modest of you! But isn't that a little too familiar, Prince Nova- Monochrome: *sighs in annoyance, shooting her a look* Maybe just respect a pony when they tell you what they prefer to be called. Nova: Agreed... Heather: (!) O-oh, of course! My apologies! *feels a bit nervous, seeing the uncomfortable edge to Nova's posture. Quickly changes the subject, bringing back her peppy tone* So what's been happening on your end, Sir Nova~? I'd love to know! Nova: *perks up a bit* Oh. Well... *glances over at Monochrome. He lightens up, smiling brightly* Chrome and I are working on a big project together. So that's exciting. -A vein bulges in Heather's head. For Monochrome, of all ponies, to be working with a prince- Heather: *voice becomes a pitch higher* W-what kind of project? Monochrome: That's a secret. *seeing Heather shoot them a tense look, the corner of their mouth lifts* All a part of the partnership, dear. Nova: Yep! Heather: *laughs stiffly* W-well, that's great, Sir Nova! *tightens her hold on his hooves. At least now she had an opening to truly impress him* I actually have a partnership myself with my dear husband! *winks* Surely you've heard of Reed Enterprise, our rapidly growing corporation right here in Canterlot! We've been quite the talk on the streets and in the local newspapers~ Nova: ...no actually. Heather:  A-ah...well! That's quite alright! If you've only been visiting, of course it would be difficult hearing about us! Nova: *tilts head* Actually, I've been living here in Canterlot for...two? Three years now. Heather: *sucks in a sharp breath*......and you've...never once heard of us.

-Nova and Monochrome exchange a matching blank glance, simultaneously returning their attention to the earth pony after- Nova and Monochrome: No...

-Heather can physically feel her pride cracking. Her ears then catch a few whispers. Tensing, she's forced to remember the passing ponies and those still lingering nearby, no doubt listening in on this mess. She grits her teeth, determined for some way to save this conversation- Heather: (!!) A-anyway! That reminds me! I'm holding a party tonight at our penthouse, to celebrate our new office building! If you're free, you absolutely should drop by~ *lifts her head proudly* You'll see many familiar influential faces, knowing you~ Miss Rarity and Fancy Pants himself will be attending! Oh they'd be just elated to see you, I'm sure! Nova: *winces* Thanks. But I'd rather just...you know...stay home. -Nova bobs his head in a continuous nod, his mouth pressed into a tight line while Heather waits for more of an explanation. ...none comes. Only awkward, empty silence fills the air between them-

Heather: Please, at least consider it! *eyes flick nervously, landing on Monochrome* (!) I'll even invite Monochrome! You could both come together! -Though the thought of Monochrome attending exasperates her, Heather is convinced for a short moment that the offer has to be a selling point. However, something akin to a record scratch occurs. Nova shuts his eyes and shakes his head vigorously, as if uncertain if he had heard her right- Nova: Wait wait, stop, hold up- *eyebrows draw in as he pulls his body a significant distance away from her* You invited me to some party, right in front of Chrome, and you were about to leave them out? Heather: *caught off guard by how offended he looks, as if she had personally insulted him. She stumbles over herself for a proper response* W-well I just- I didn't think they'd enjoy such a scene- Nova: Because they're not royalty, like me. -With eyelids half-lidded, Nova raises a brow-

Heather: *feels a bit of panic, realizing attention is returning to them* Of course no- -Heather suddenly feels something dry and...leathery against her leg. Glancing down, she's greeted by the sight of a large tortoise, dressed with goggles and a strange mechanism on its back, as it ever-so-slowly pushes its head into her foreleg, actually managing to move it back. Startled, Heather releases her hold on Nova to jerk away from the wrinkly thing- Heather: What is that doing here?! Nova: *frowns* Well that's weird...never seen him do that before. Hang on, buddy- *attempts to pick the tortoise up, only to grunt as he struggles with its weight*....C-Chrome... Monochrome: *releases a breathy laugh, moving between the ponies to pick up their tortoise* Tank...were you trying to protect Nova from the strange lady?

Tank: *slowly nods his head* Monochrome: *smiles fondly and rests their head against his* Good boy. -Heather doesn't stop herself from finally shooting a glare at them, but swiftly drops it when Nova turns back around, eyeing her- Nova: ...I have to say. Inviting ponies based on social stature alone is pretty shallow. And, like...a pretty awful way of making friends, I'd think. *glances away* I mean, I'm really not the 'life of the party' like you're probably imagining. -Heather gapes, utterly dumbfounded. She then finally hears it; distant snorts of laughter, eagerly exchanged murmurs, a soft "damn" and "yikes". The earth pony's face burns horrendously, that word echoing in her head. 'Shallow'. At once she wishes she could snap at him, for the impudence and sheer indecency.- Monochrome: Nova...*eyes the table* I'm sorry to interrupt with tragic news, but... Nova: *follows Mo's gaze and yelps, seeing his ice cream cup almost completely melted* Oh come on... I was looking forward to that. Monochrome: *frowns at Nova's look of disappointment. They gently place Tank down and, reaching into their saddlebag, they hand the unicorn a few bits* Just go get another one. *pulls the melted cup towards their body* We can try it together and...have sugar comas later, I guess. Nova: *snorts* Gee, how comforting...*shakes his head smiling* Thanks Chrome. *awkwardly looks back at Heather one more time* I...guess that's it. Enjoy your party, uh... Heather: *voice takes on a flatter tone*  Lady Heather, sir. Nova: *eyes her warily* Yeah...bye then. -Nova proceeds towards the ice creams shop, entering it once more. Sitting there seething, Heather can't believe how much of a crude, ill-mannered stallion the Friendship Prince actually is. Nearby, Monochrome raises a brow at her.- Monochrome: Something wrong? He was just being honest. I thought a beacon of honesty like yourself would appreciate that. -Heather shoots a withering look at them, gritting her teeth to hold back words as she silently fumes. Monochrome cracks a smile, a glint in their eye- Monochrome: *leans their head down to meet Heather's gaze evenly, softly whispering* Nice try, but...turns out I'm not afraid of you either. Heather: *releases a soft growl, followed by a soft 'hmph' as she stands* If you would excuse me, I have actual business to tend to. Good day. -With that, Heather dramatically opens her parasol and elegantly trots away, ignoring ponies in the immediate area as she hides away her injured pride. Monochrome simply takes a spoonful of their melted ice cream, barely containing a growing satisfied smile that they give to Tank- Monochrome: Hopefully that'll humble her. For a while at least.

We momentarily skip ahead to present day, to see what Heather is up to. We have one pony who's making a name in high society, and another who couldn't care less about that world after abandoning it. Put them together and you get one very, very amused Monochrome. ...who, with all of the drama going on, I almost forgot was originally written to be petty as fuck. To those they think deserve it, at least. As seen in their introductory chapter, "Overpriced".

Anyway! Believe it or not, this is the last chapter we'll be seeing Heather in who knows how long. Next chapter we'll be returning to Eventide's arc. Heather originally was meant to simply fill the role of the ex-best friend who had emotionally traumatized Eve, and while I had some plans for her, she was meant to remain a minor character. But lo and behold, as I do with characters, she's become much more complex than planned aaaand well...there are ideas, but until the day comes for those to come to life, we won't have to deal with her for a while. I will, though, be doing a bio for her to delve more into her character. Meanwhile: Gosh I've wanted to write Monochrome and Nova interactions for so long...as you can see there's so much you guys haven't seen, events that are only explored in Nova's past arc, but because his arc is the longest of any character's in the cast, it'll be a bit of time before we delve into that story. Til then, here's a taste~ Lastly. As you can also see, I've changed up my method for script-style chapters! Hopefully this is much easier and cleaner to read than what it was before.