#so my brain just went ‘eh we don’t need to keep a record of this’

[samuraisharkie]

*homer simpson voice* Marge I think I have brain damage

[daniegraceg]

Sunshine & Starlight

Summary: You finally meet the notorious brother of your friend Tommy Miller.

You feel an immediate draw to him, and he returns those feelings.

You have a feeling he will become a pivotal part of your life. You're just not sure what that will look like.

Ratings: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Tags/Warnings: just a lot of setup in this one. Some Angst, teasing. Mentions of sketchy science experiments, torture. SMUT will be coming next chapter.

Can't remember if I've forgotten any others.

Wordcount: ~~ 4K (oops 😳🤭)

Chapter One :: The Meeting

You’re working in the stables the first time you meet Joel and Ellie.

Like nearly every woman in Jackson, you can’t help but notice how good looking he is.

You introduce yourself to them both.

“Hi! I hear you’re this riff raff's brother.” You say as you shake Joel’s hand.

“Riff raff? What’re you, a mob boss from the 20s?” Tommy laughs.

“uh, duh. Can’t ya tell?” you flash a smile to him & laugh.

Joel can’t help but smile when he sees you smile.

“Sadly, my brain went to the Aladdin quote with the riff raff.” You finish. They all just give you a confused look. “oh my God, ya know? Aladdin? Cartoon movie? ‘riff raff! Street rat! I don’t buy that’” you sing the bar from the movie and the adults give you a look that shows they realize.

You roll your eyes. “need to properly educate y’all more on musicals, clearly.”

“Oh Jesus” Tommy rolls his eyes back at you. “hey, when you finish up here, can you put some supplies at the house next to ya? We’re going to have these guys stay there while they’re here.”

“oh, you don’t have to do that, we won’t be here long.” Joel interjects.

“Shush! It’s no trouble.” You say to Joel.

“ya got it!” you direct to Tommy and Maria. “I can have Andrew get some clothes together for you guys too.”

“I appreciate that ma’am, but really, we’re fine-“ Joel starts.

You put your fingers in your ears. “sorry, can’t hear you. I’m already off to do those things!! Toodle-oo!” you shoot Joel a smile before turning and disappearing out the door.

“She seems, weird but fun.” Ellie laughs.

“That’s a pretty accurate description of her” Maria laughs

Tommy catches Joel staring in the direction you just ran off to. Tommy clears his throat and Joel breaks his trance and looks back to him.

Tommy raises his eyebrow quizzically at him and Joel just gives him a look to shut up.

Tommy softly chuckles but can’t help the gears turning in his head.

They walk them around town, giving them the full tour of the town.

You make a welcome basket for them, enlisting your friend Andrew’s help to find them some clothes.

“Sssooo, is he as hot as the town says?” Andrew asks you.

You can feel the heat rushing towards your cheeks.

“Oh absolutely. More hot actually. But also seems a lot sweeter than rumors I’ve heard. But, that’s just my first impression so, who knows?”

Andrew’s eyes widen. “does our sunshine princess finally have a crush?!” he makes an exaggerated shocked face.

“What the fuck. God no. Just cause I’m human and have eyes, doesn’t mean I have a crush. Are we in middle school again?” you roll your eyes at him.

“oh come on, you need to find someone to keep your bed warm” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“no” you say shortly.

Ashley over hears y’all and comes up. “why NOT?”

You sigh loudly. “because I don’t need someone to warm my bed. I’m perfectly fulfilled. I got you guys, our other friends, the school, the clinic, the rec center. I don’t have time to date.”

“well what about just fucking?” she asks.

“eh, gets too messy, as y’all have seen with my track record.” You reply, referencing your long list of people in Jackson you’ve slept with, some no longer your friends because they caught feelings and you couldn’t reciprocate.

She eyes you before speaking. “I think that’s cause none of the other people have been able to handle you. You need someone that can handle you and loves all of you.”

“We live in the apocalypse, I think you’re aiming too high.”

You end the conversation there and go to deliver the package to Joel and Ellie.

You get there and see them sitting in the living room with Tommy and Maria.

Knock, knock, knock

“Come on in” you hear Tommy yell.

“Special delivery!” you say in a sing song voice. “got a whole lot of goodies, food, basic supplies, clothes. I think Andrew put in some ‘nicer clothes’ in there too for the party tonight too”

“A party?” Joel and ellie said in unison.

Tommy explains how the town has weekly parties to give people something fun to do.

“and this one here sings and entertains us all”

You let out a snort. “more like they tolerate me and question why this weirdo teaches the kids”

“you’re a teacher?” Joel asks, locking his gorgeous brown eyes on you.

“One of my hats I wear here” you laugh. “in addition to be the therapist, running the rec center, working in the clinic. Plus filling in wherever I’m needed.”

“Wow. Quite the resume.” Joel says to you.

You shrug. “stemmed from just trying to keep busy. Except the therapist part. I did that before the outbreak.”

“impressive” Joel replies, eyes not leaving you.

You laugh, “dunno about that. Getting people to talk is harder than getting the lid off a 20 year old jar.”

The group let’s out a chuckle.

You check your watch. “shit, I gotta go help set up. I better see y’all there or you’ll never hear the end of it from me!!” you wink at Joel before turning on your heels to head out “BBBYYYEEEE!”

Joel has a small smile on his face as he watches you head out the door.

“Jesus, Joel. You’re going to melt a hole right through her” Tommy says to Joel with a laugh.

That gets his attention. “dunno what you’re talking about.”

Ellie let’s out a laugh. “ok sure, whatever you say.”

Tommy laughs too.

“what are you laughing about too?” Joel asks.

“oh, nothing, nothing.” Tommy tries to stop his laugh. “just noticed you staring at her in the stables too.”

“I absolutely was not” Joel replies.

“how many times will he do it without even realizing?” Ellie asks. “a million?”

“probably” Tommy laughs.

“Both of you just shut the hell up” Joel says.

“I think you just enjoy torturing me. Fffaaahhhhhcccckkkk” Andrew is twisting and turning your hair in some weird way.

“You’d think you would be used to this by now” you hear from the doorway and see Olivia coming in.

You turn to see your fellow band mates coming in.

“I never will. Give me a ponytail with a ribbon any day, any time. I just let him do this to be nice”

“Psh, you like looking hot.” Andrew chimes in.

“rude! Am I not already hot?!” you feign hurt.

She just laughs at you “you’re something else.”

“something else like amazing, badass, smoking hot, never wrong, kind, right?” you laugh and flash a smile at her.

“mmhhhmm. Ssuurrreee. Whatever you wanna believe.”

Andrew let’s out a snort, “glad you’re feeling yourself today at least. There. Got your head looking hot instead of a hot mess.”

“oohhh, drew you really went all out with her today. What’s the occasion?” the drummer, Bobby, asks.

“Our girl has a new love interest!! I’m using whatever powers I have to manifest this shit to bring em together.” Andrew proudly proclaims.

“What? No! No love interest here! He’s got it in his head that he wants me to get with Tommy’s brother.” You roll your eyes extra dramatically. “despite us not knowing anything about him, I don’t know how I even feel but he’s over here trying to play cupid.” You say.

“Ooohh Tommy’s brother?” Olivia asks. “is that who was giving you those looks in the stables?” a huge grin is creeping on her face.

“YES!! See! It’s not just me thinking this!!” Andrew exclaims.

“I gotta say, I felt a strong vibe too, Y/N” Bobby pipes up.

“All of you are crazy.” You shake your head at them. “Clearly, you’re bored and just making up scenarios to keep y’all entertained.” An exasperated sigh leaves your mouth.

“why are you against it?” Olivia asked.

“it’s not that I’m against it necessarily. There’s just a lot of other stuff that has my focus, he just got here. Or who knows if he would even want that or be interested. Too many factors undetermined. I’m just not looking to get my heart all fucked up cause of feelings or anything.” You blurt all this out in a rush, the words leaving your mouth before you can even register what you’re saying.

Your confession shocks you just as much as it does them.

“Aww, does our therapist need some therapy herself?” Olivia asks, but doesn’t wait for you to answer. “aren’t you the one always telling us and everyone else “don’t wait to be happy, even if it’s just the possibility to be happy. Tomorrow isn’t promised, so go live and take the risks?”

“Do as I say, not as I do?” you cut in with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Woman, you’re always doing everything you can to take care of everyone else. You need to do the same for yourself. Just take a chance. That’s all we’re saying. When was the last time you’ve even had sex?” she asks, eyes fixed on you waiting for your answer.

“Uuhh, like a year or so? Not sure honestly. And that’s because that one dude caught feelings for me and I didn’t feel the same way and I had to let him down. I hated being the one to do it but definitely don’t want it happening to me. Can’t even trust that people will maintain the friends with benefits shit” you groan.

“Maybe what y’all are supposedly seeing is just built up sexual frustration, just wanting a bang buddy. Which, that I’d be down for. But there’s still the risk of feelings developing.” You finish, hoping they’ll finally drop it.

“Oorrr maybe it can start as that and you BOTH develop feelings and y’all have some fairy tale “happily ever after thing” Bobby adds.

“Yyeesssss!” your group yells out.

“since when did you guys get so romantic. It’s sick and disgusting and I think you need medical attention for it.” You say sarcastically.

“OOKK. How bout this?” Andrew says, “if you don’t at least go on one date with him, I’ll never shut up about it.”

“and what if he doesn’t want to do that? Hmm?” You ask.

“just trust me, he will. Now let’s finish getting ya ready.”

The shirt that was picked out feels tight on Joel’s arms but he kept it on. Ellie had made some creative adjustments to her outfit that Andrew had picked for her.

“well, well, well, you clean up nice” Ellie says and laughs.

“Shut up” Joel replies to her.

Joel and Ellie meet Tommy and Maria at their house and walk together to the hall.

“So they do this all the time?” Ellie asks Maria as you all walk.

“Yup, Y/N actually started it.” Maria chuckles at the memory. “One day after a pretty dicey patrol she was worked up pretty good and declared “I need to wiggle this out” and proceeded to just start singing some song, I think it was from a musical. And then just starts dancing around the room and gets other people dancing too. And everyone loved it and it lifted their spirits so she keeps doing it.”.

“so she just started an impromptu party and people just, went along with it?” Ellie asks, shocked.

Maria and tommy both let out a laugh as Maria says “Basically. She’s a powerhouse when she wants to be. Especially if it means putting a smile on other people’s faces. Plus, she’s really fucking talented honestly. Plays a bunch of the instruments and sings but she’s made a little recording studio so she can prerecord the different instruments she needs to play behind her while she sings.”

“Holy shit” Ellie says, “hey Joel, didn’t you say you played guitar? You should – uh- offer her your assistance” she laughs as she raises her eyebrows to him.

Joel just shakes his head and rolls his eyes at her.

The group walks through the doors and ellie let’s out a gasp when she sees.

Everything is decked out with hanging lights, some multicolored lights that make the space flash different colors, the tables and chairs are moved around the stage and there’s space for people to dance.

They go sit at a table near the front, arriving earlier than most. Joel and Ellie get introduced to more people as they filter in.

When the clock hits 7:30 the lights suddenly go out followed by a bunch of colored lights getting brighter. Then a spotlight goes to the stage and lights you up.

Joel can’t help but stare at you. Your hair is curled and is now purple. You’re in a shiny sequined strapless dress. It makes your breasts even more prominent and Joel is thankful he can disguise staring at you as just watching you perform.

Your dress hugs all your curves and hits you just below your ass, leaving barely anything to the imagination. He forces his focus onto the drink in his hand. Anything to try to think of some thing besides what he wants to do you.

You catch Joel’s eye and flash a smile at him.

Fuck, he thinks to himself, I’m utterly screwed.

“Hey hey people!” you call out through the microphone. “how we doing tonight?!”

A loud cheer erupted from the space.

“Whooo! That’s what I like to hear. We got quite a mix for ya tonight! Lots of different requests from you fine people – so let’s get to it!”

The band starts playing and Joel marvels at how you seem to be in your element as you’re on stage. He notices whenever you catch his eye a blush spreads across your cheeks. He can’t deny to himself that he loves it.

You sing a few upbeat songs before mixing it up with some ones that were requested.

During a slower song, you notice Joel is wearing what Andrew picked out for him.

You decide to say fuck it and use this as an opportunity to be flirty with him. You usually act flirty with the crowd anyways, so you hope it doesn’t look too suspicious.

The song changes to a faster beat & you do your thing, dancing and playing to the crowd. To your surprise, ellie actually gets Joel to get up and dance at one point and they’re both laughing having a good time.

Andrew is off to the side of the stage and gives you a look of approval and pride. He knows exactly what you’re doing and is simply elated.

You all perform the final song and declare “alright, that’s it for tonight my loves. Ya don’t gotta go home but you can’t stay here – unless you wanna help clean up” you laugh.

The crowd starts to disperse and Olivia runs to the bathroom with you to help you freshen up and get the sweat off of you.

“ I am SO PROUD of you!! Look at you, you sultry bitch!” she beams.

“Oh my God, you’re ridiculous” you laugh. “How do I smell? I feel like I worked up a sweat tonight.”

“You smell GREAT.” She says “he’s stupid if he doesn’t want to fuck you.”

“not my goal tonight, or any night.” You remind her.

“but if they end up staying?!” she ask, almost begging.

“small maybe” you reply.

“I’ll take it” she smiles.

You both walk out of the bathroom to see a few people helping to clean up, Joel included.

“Hey Joel! Glad ya made it! You saved yourself me giving you shit anytime I see ya” you laugh and he smiles.

“Well, thank goodness for that” he says with his Texas draw & chuckles. “You were incredible, by the way. I mean- every body was.” He glances over at Ellie. “she needed this, something fun.”

You nodded knowingly. “Every person needs it in this fucked up world. Even dudes who pretend not to give a shit about anything except for their brother and her” you throw a wink at him.

You swear he blushes a bit before muttering “yeah, alright.” With a roll of his eyes

You start cleaning up stuff near him and almost trip but he catches you.

“Fuck, his arms are incredible” you think to yourself “down, girl.”

“Thank you, my hero” you plaster on an over the top accent like you’re a damsel from an old western .

Returning to your normal voice you add, “Andrew, that one over there” you point to Andrew talking to Olivia. “he makes me wears these crazy shoes he makes/finds/repairs. Despite me telling him my ankles are too damn old and damaged for em. Always scared I’m going to just launch myself onto the stage and create and involuntary mosh pit or some shit.”

You sit on a chair and try to bend to take the shoes off. “goddamn it fuck, mother fucker.”

“what’s wrong?” Joel asks

“oh” you laugh. “sorry, Andrew just made this dress so fucking tight at my torso so it makes it a challenge to bend and get my shoes off.”

You swung your leg around a different direction to try to get a better angle. “normally I’m a lot more flexible than this when I’m not being suffocated by clothes”

A blush starts spreading on your cheek but that doesn’t stop you from speaking again. “That sounded dirtier than I intended. But oh well, giggity”

Joel sucks in a sharp breath before he let’s out a laugh, thinking how cute you look when you blush.

“Nah, not wrong at all” his eyes graze over your body before landing on your feet. “Here, let me help.”

Suddenly, he kneels in front of you, holding out his hand for you to place your foot into.

You just stare at him for a moment and he raises his eyebrows at you, silently telling you to give him your feet.

You do as he wishes and extend your leg into his hands.

His fingers graze a sensitive part on your calf before reaching your feet. He gently unbuckles one of the straps, then slides his finger along your foot to undo the other one.

He slides the shoe off like a reverse Cinderella. His fingers dance over your skin, sending electric shocks through you.

He gently places one foot down and holds his hand out for the other and you obey his unspoken command.

He seems to linger his fingers even more this time.

Fingers dancing on your ankle, to the buckle, click.

Fingers dancing to your toes, to the buckle, click.

Fingers dancing back up to your ankle, gliding your shoe off, fingers lazily trailing your skin behind it.

He looks up at you with those damned eyes again and a heat swirls through you settling between your legs.

He clears his throat awkwardly as he places your shoes on the floor. “Better?”

You take a breath, not realizing you weren’t breathing that whole time. “Much, thank you.” You flash him a huge smile, hoping and praying he somehow doesn’t see the blush on your face. “Such a gentleman. You’re going to spoil me.”

“What’s wrong with that? Beautiful women should be spoiled.” he asks, voice low. Making your insides swirl again.

God damn it.

You’re trying to think of a reply when you hear a loud bang noise.

You both whip your heads toward the noise and see Ellie trying to look casual as she tries to pick up a chair she dropped.

“Ah, a fellow klutz” you laugh and start to stand up. Joel stands and offers you a hand to help get up. “Thanks.”

It’s now that you notice everyone’s eyes were on the both of you during that whole interaction. They all try to turn now and look busy.

“Geesh.” You let out a small laugh as you look up at the clock. “Fuck, is that really the time? I should get going, gotta work early at the clinic in the morning.”

You see Andrew and Olivia give you a dirty look, knowing you said that to avoid being alone with Joel.

You walk to the other room and grab your coat and boots.

“That was hot, even if it was tame.” You hear Andrew from behind you.

“dunno what you’re talking about.” You act dumb, hoping he buys it.

He doesn’t.

“Don’t you bullshit me woman. We could all feel the sexual tension radiating between the two of you.” He says. You just roll your eyes and sigh. “He’s absolutely into you. I bet he’s a real attentive lover.”

“Stop. Please. I – I’m not sure if I could just fuck him and be done. Not if he’s going to be coming around more. So I’m going to avoid that until I can figure out my brain.”

He knows he can’t argue with that, not wanting you to be hurt. “ugh, fine. So you think you might… like him?”

“Dude I have no idea. Maybe? It’s probably just horniness masking itself for something more. But until I know for sure, it’s safest to avoid doing anything.” You’re eyes start welling up involuntarily and you try to sniff them back.

“Oh honey..” Andrew starts.

“It’s fine” you snap, drying your eyes. “just drop it. I’m probably just hormonal. Plus, you know my policy on romantic relationships, I’m good.” Andrew helps you put on your boots and you grab the rest of your stuff as you walk out.

“Ready frendies?” You smile at Joel and Ellie.

Joel notices your face looks… different. Like you’d been crying maybe, or almost crying. He gives you a quizzical look but you avert his gaze. He looks towards Andrew and raises his eyebrow.

“She’s ok” Andrew mouths to him and Joel gives a slight nod.

You step out into the cold and a rush of cold air went up your dress.

“Fuck me, why didn’t I grab sweatpants for the walk home. Come on people! Double time! This bitch needs heat!” you holler before starting to run.

You reach your house first, Joel and Ellie not far behind.

“Wellp, this is me.” You say awkwardly. “are y’all going to be in town for much longer?”

“We’re actually uh, actually headed out in the morning, headed to the university of Colorado.” Joel says.

“Oh.” You say, trying not to sound too disappointed. “You got family there?”

“I’m the daughter of some big wig firefly people as Joel calls em so we’re going to touch base with them, but then I bet we’ll be back, right Joel?” she nudges him with her arm.

“Right, yeah. Tommy’s the only family I got left. But- yeah, after this excursion we should be making our way back here.”

“Good, I’m glad.” You smile.

“I’m going to go head inside. Goodnight! Good meeting you!” Ellie calls behind her.

“You too! Sweet dreams!” You call after her.

Once she was out of ear shot you say to Joel. “Hey, uh, be careful with the fireflies you’re going to meet. I have a feeling she’s not actually someone’s kid there but I’m not going to pry. Just, some of them may mean well but they’re… “ you pause try to think of the words.

“You know fireflies too?” Joel asks.

“Yeah, ran with them for a bit. Actually met tommy briefly through them. A few years later met again here.”

“Small world.” Joel says. He wonders if the two of you ever fucked. He finds himself getting unjustly jealous at the thought.

“Tell me about it” you chuckle softly. “I don’t mean to overstep. I’m not fishing for information from you about what you’re doing. I just know when I was still with them, after Tommy left I think, the doctors were getting desperate to find a cure or preventative. They were getting more… morally gray. Doing experiments on people, kids even, that had been bit. And they did it before they turned… it’s why I finally left. The doctors were basically med school drop outs, thinking they were going to be the next savior.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “Idiot bastards were just cutting into them, thinking that’ll give them the answers, not using any other methods first.”

Tears start to form again but this time from anger.

“I don’t say any of this to deter you. You don’t seem like a man that CAN be deterred once you set your mind to something.” you chuckle awkwardly again. “I just wouldn’t feel right not telling you, so you have the full picture. Maybe they’ve gotten better, I hope so. But that was like 5 years ago so who knows.”

Joel stills for a minute. The closer they’ve gotten he’s been more worried about how the fireflies would actually be.

“Joel?” you say.

“Sorry. Yeah, I really appreciate you telling me all that. I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Ok, good. I’ll look forward to seeing your faces around here once you’re back then.”

Joel’s face breaks into a smile. “That’s definitely good motivation for me to hurry back.”

You blush again, can feel it through your body. There’s no way Joel doesn’t see it. And it’s then that you realize your cleavage is very prominently displayed and the cold is making your nipples stick out through your dress.

Not tonight, not yet. Shut it down. You think.

You chuckle. “Best come back in one piece, sir.”

“That’s always the goal.” You both let out a laugh.

“Well, I really should head to bed, early morning and all. If I don’t see you before you head out, be safe.”

“Always am sweetheart. Goodnight, sweet dreams.” He says.

“You too” you smile and go on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek before going inside.

[nat-20s]

 Part 8 of the wonderful! Au: the boys answer some questions! Up to you to decide if they actually clarify anything!

(also on AO3)

~*~

Martin: Hey everyone! I know what some of you are thinking right now: it's not Tuesday, why is this episode in my feed? I know significantly more of you are thinking: I don't consistently keep up with podcast releases, how much free time do you think I have, buddy? To answer your queries: this is a bonus episode! We're answering listener questions to clear the air and/or have fun. Also, I don't know, around 20 to 40 minutes a week, as that is the average amount of time per episode? Maybe during your commute? My husband's omnipotence has been gone for five years, we just have to guess at that sort of thing now.

Jon: For legal reasons, that last statement was a joke. In fact, to cover all of our bases, we do not guarantee that any of our responses are genuine.

Martin: Just because we say we'll answer things doesn't mean we'll answer truthfully. Though, honestly, I think we might make it more enjoyable if we do tell the truth. Like, I don't necessarily have a fun lie prepared for our first question from konspiracyking97: "What's their fuckin deal anyway?"

Jon: Is this referring to the oblique references  we've made about being from a parallel reality and only ending up here as a consequence of ending one apocalypse and potentially starting another or the general premise of the show?

Martin: Oh, it's gotta be general premise, yeah?

Jon: In that case, I'm Jon, the other voice you're hearing is Martin, we're married, and we talk about things that are..nice? Good? Usually generally but occasionally rather specifically pleasant.

Martin: That pretty much covers it. It's not a complicated show. Uhh, next question comes from Shane: are either or both of you aliens? Nope!

Jon: Well..

Martin: No. We are 100% human people from Earth, we are under no definition extraterrestrial.

Jon: Eh..

Martin: Okay, first off, I know the tone of that 'eh' and "not fully human" is not synonymous with alien, so even if 100% is being a bit generous, we're still from the same planet as our listeners.

Jon:..

Jon: But. We sort of aren't though. Technically speaking.

Martin: No no no no no. I don't care if it's parallel, Earth is Earth is Earth, regardless of whatever nonsense metaphysics might be occurring.

Jon: So what you're saying is that if you got sucked through a portal and landed on an Earth where dinosaurs were still the predominant species, you wouldn't consider yourself to be an alien?

Martin: Nope!

Jon: I'm certain that they would consider you an alien. All of their mammals are probably shrew sized.

Martin: Sounds like a them problem.

Jon: Sounds like a-?! You know what, no, this will be an off the record debate, for now, I suppose I concede that the two Earths and our physiologies are similar enough that we might, maybe, not count as aliens.

Martin: Thank you. Anyway, our next question is from anonymous, and asks, "Is all of this an ARG?"

Jon: A whomst?

Martin: Alternate reality game. It's a method of storytelling that's interactive with audience, and usually has, I dunno, a certain suspension of disbelief to it where it pretends to be something actually happening in the real world until a dramatic reveal. A lot times it was used as a marketing gimmick, but others have done it just for fun. I can show you some examples after the show?

Jon: So it's in essence a more involved creepypasta?

Martin, delighted: Aw, babe, I'm never going to have a handle on what pop culture you are and aren't aware of, huh?

Jon: We were born within a year of each other, and I've told you that I was a deeply morbid teenager, you should probably be able to intuit some of things, love.

Martin: This coming from a man who has yet to see "It's a Wonderful Life", but has seen every film in the "Banjo Cannibals" franchise, including the Easter special. Jesus doesn't exist in the Banjo Cannibals universe, why does it have an Easter special?

Jon: The movies are rather shoddily translated from Russian, so I'm fairly certain the Easter component of that special was invented wholesale in the English version.

Martin: You say that like it answers more questions than it raises.

Jon: Yes, because it does. Oh, and to answer anonymous's question, no, this isn't an ARG. From my understanding of it, if it were, it'd be a poorly constructed one, as there's no real game element to any of this.

Martin: Hmm. Well, sometimes the game component is just trying to figure out what's going on with the story, or if there's any deeper content, and people are definitely doing that with this show.

Jon: That's not by design though. It's more a side effect of us having poor brain to mouth filters, I'd say.

Martin: Harsh, but fair. Oh, this next one is from Zac, no K, who asks, "Are you two actually even married?"

Jon, flat: We are, but it's under false names because this whole thing is an elaborate insurance scam.

Jon, incredulous: Yes, obviously, we're married. What did you hear in this podcast that would make you wonder otherwise, and how do we rectify it?

Martin: Clearly we need to up our quota for how "disgustingly in love" and "horrifically sappy" we are per episode. Which segues nicely into the next question from Gwen, "What's your favourite wonderful thing you've brought so far?" My answer: my husband. He's kind of my favourite in most things, you know?

Jon: Boooooo

Martin: Why, what's your favourite thing?

[Jon reluctantly sighs]

Jon, indulgent: being married.

Martin: A: serves you right for trying to pretend you're the less horrifically sappy and romantic one even though earlier today someone put a love note in the lunch they packed for me-

Jon:- Lies and slander! I have never, in my life, done that, even once.

Martin: Oh, sure, not even once. And you definitely don't reserve the lilac sticky notes specifically for my lunches because you know I like the colour. 

Jon: I..I don't.. you're rather ruining my image here.

[Martin snorts]

Martin: Can't have the audience think that you are, on occasion, an incredibly doting husband-

Jon: -A title I would argue we both share-

Martin: - which is obviously why, even with it being your favourite thing you've brought, being married to me is just a small wonder-

Jon, audibly rolling his eyes: As I already explained-

[A Pause}

Jon: Actually, you're right-

Martin: Wait-

Jon:- I really should have brought it as a larger wonder-

Martin: Wait-

Jon: though I should warn you, I think I'd have far too much material for just one little segment-

Martin: No no no no no-

Jon:- In fact, I think I might have too much material for just one little episode-

Martin: Joo-oon-

Jon: I might have to do a whole series! Where would I even start? I mean I could talk about how every day I get to watch the early morning sun highlight your curls when I get up first, or hear you quietly humming and shuffling around the kitchen when you do, or I could talk about how the lunch notes only started in the first place as retaliation to the notes you would leave on the mirror for me to find, or how every time I get to see you at ease in a way that you aren't with anyone else, it takes my breath away, or I could talk about how cute I find the lines between your eyebrows that you only get when you're thinking something petty, but you know it's petty so you don't want to say anything-

Martin: Okay, okay, Christ, I give !up I surrender, and will cease my teasing on this particular topic.

Jon, probably making the :3 face: You don't have to stop. I mean, I could also discuss how very, very attractive I find your voice when it takes on a teasi-mmph!

[There's a pleased hum, then a pause.]

[The audio quality is slightly changed, as if the recording has been stopped and then started later]

Martin, giddy: Uh, heh, anyway, Eric asked what the least favourite thing we've brought was, and because of Jon's attempt to embarrass me live-

Jon, overlapping: It's definitely not live-

Martin:- on air, I'm gonna say it's my husband.

[Jon scoffs]

Jon : If the past few minutes are any sort of indication, I'm going to go ahead and saying that you are lying.

Martin, sighing contentedly: Maybe a bit, but how was I supposed to resist when your indigance gives you that adorable little nose scrunch? In reality, my least favourite thing was probably, um, mini golf? Which, I still don't think is inherently bad, definitely superior to regular golf, but when it's the only thing a next door two year old wants to do with you, the charm begins to wear off a bit.

Jon: Wow. A rather scathing review of a toddler.

Martin: Not so much a scathing review of a toddler as it's a scathing review of minigolf's inability to keep its appeal after the third time in the same week.

Jon: Mmm, the sound effects rather quickly go from part of the atmosphere to part of the irritation, don't they?

Martin: So what's your least favorite thing we've covered here?

Jon: Oh, love, I'm not going to pretend to have nearly enough memory of what we've covered so far to have a least favorite.

Martin: Really? Nothing that you regret or rescind?

Jon: Well, regret, certainly. It was one of the weeks where you went first, and your second item was mutual aid funds, and what they can do for marginalized communities, and I had to follow it with fucking Slapchop.

Martin, poorly suppressing laughter: In your defence, Slapchop, or whatever offbrand we have, is pretty useful, especially when either your scar or my arthritis is acting up.

Jon: I'm still not convinced you didn't somehow see my notes for the recording and decided you get revenge for the first year that we knew each other.

Martin, no longer suppressing his laughter: Yep, you got me! This marriage wasn't an act of insurance fraud, but it was a near decade long con to humiliate you on a podcast that about twenty people listen to. I'll draft up the divorce papers immediately, and then we can finally go our separate ways. 

Jon: I'm glad you've at last admitted it. Such a weight off of my shoulders. Goodbye forever then.

Martin: Right.

Jon: Right.

[A beat.]

[There's a pfft from one of them, before both dissolve into giggles that lasts a good 30 seconds.]

Martin, slightly out of breath: I can't believe we're the kind of people that talk this much about speciality kitchen gadgets.

Jon: Sorry about that.

Martin: God, don't apologize. I'm, like, deliriously happy with our varying degrees of useful cooking ware filled life. If you had told 25 year old me that one day he'd be debating the merits of getting a tortilla press with his husband, he'd have wept, I tell you.

Jon: Funny, if you told 25 year old me the same thing, he would've said "You don't know the future,piss off" and then quietly have a bit of a panic at 3 am that night.

Martin: I bet you were insufferable in your mid-twenties.

Jon: First of all, who isn't, secondly, I was fresh out of Oxford, and third, I was insufferable in my late twenties, as you can attest to, and I'm insufferable now, as you can further attest to, so extrapolation would indicate that, yes, I was insufferable back then.

Martin: Probably a different kind of insufferable, though.

Jon: There are different kinds?

Martin: Of course! You used to be "prick boss" insufferable and now you're "smug in a way that I can't admit I find hot or it will go straight to your head" insufferable.

Jon, in the aforementioned smug tone: Oh, really?

Martin: See, see! Straight to your head.

Jon: Well straight is probably the wrong descriptor-

Martin: Oof, 4 out of 10 joke, babe.

Jon: That would be a far more convincing rating if you weren't grinning right now.

Martin: It's a genuine review, I'm just well known to be a sucker.

Jon: You and me both, darling.

Martin: Okay, if you're pulling out darling, you're clearly in too giddy of a mood to be focused on recording. Last question, from Jess, "You two mentioned meeting at work, but how did you actually end up together?" That's easy, Jon pulled me out of a hell dimension and then we went on the lam together to Scotland.

Jon: If that's not the way to tell a cute boy you like him, I don't know what is.

Martin: All right, that wraps up this bonus episode, and as the old saying goes, hiding from murderers in a cottage is more conducive to romance than suggesting you gouge out your eyes together.

Jon, cut off: Hey-!

[lastbluetardis]

Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.”

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

[sweetwriter]

WHAT IF THE SHELBY BROTHERS TIME TRAVELED

Ok, here me out. I had this idea......but then I stopped because it is so easy for me to write them out of character 😫. But like I low key think it’d be cool asf for them to be in the 21st century. 

Here’s some of my idea I had a couple of months ago 

Word count: 1.1K 

(My style of writing is a bit....all over the place and I change POV constantly. Ill make an effort to list which POV, but I forget often😅)

You know, I can never catch a break. I mean, what in the literal hell😀 are the Shelbys doing 100 years later...shouldn't they be, you know, dust, worm food, 6 feet under?

They're in a whole new world. The 100 years between they're lives and mine are two different...I don't even know! Things they've never seen before are hitting them in the face. Literally, John hit the light pole (he was turned around). I can't really take them anywhere, they didn't know how to act in 1920 let alone in my time, where everything is watched, played back, and recorded.

So, I guess they get to meet my little sister 😬.

"Ok, we're here." It's a relief a few more blocks and they would've been hit by a car or something. "What is 'here'?" Arthur a little bamboozled by everything. "My home. This is where I live during my time period." Jeez, I sound like I'm in one of those sci if movies Penelope binges every Saturday night🙄.

"How did this happen, and when can we get back?" Tommy interrogated. As if I know. I was going to move on and pretend that feelings weren't there but nope, I have to face those eyes for Lord knows how long until we figure out whats going on. Turning back to the door, "How the hell am I suppose to know. I didn't do this, especially on purpose." Amelia snapped.  Amelia had no idea how she got to 1919 and now she has one more thing she doesn't understand, how they came back WITH her.

"Such a big house for only you,eh" John added in. The men looked around a completely different enviorment than what they've seen. Street lights, women wearing pants and shorts, and cars.

" No, I have my sister here." She's turns around to look at them, "I think she might like you." She said choosing her words WISELY.

"Who wouldn't" giving a cocky side smirk chewing on his toothpick

"Don't get to cocky John Shelby, I said might.'

"Ok, for being some of the most feared gangsters, you guys don't usually like orders being taken, but I need you guys to stay silent until I give a signal."

"Wh-" Arthur tries to ask

"No questions."

They reached the door only to hear an anime theme song and the smell of bacon.

"Yep, thats my sister alright."

"PENELOPE!" She shouted.

"FINALLY! Where were you. I thought you got kidnap or some shit." She comes down the stairs with her coiled hair is a high bun and edges done. With a hunter x hunter graphic t and grey sweats.

Penelope looks to the sides of her sister to see very GORGEOUS men wearing trench coats

Penelopes brain stops working🧠

"Let me-" Penelope cut her off.

"Please do. I'd like to know why my sister disappeared for almost 2 months and comes back with 3 6ft tall men, standing at our door. LIke what the hell?!" It's a fact that Penelopes frustrated stare and folded arms showed she was highly upset. Her sister, all the family she pretty much has left disappeared without a trace, and she had to keep going on with her days without her. It was a hard transformation. It wasn't the first time Amelia disappeared though, it's been a while.

Amelia explained (almost) everything  to Penelope. By her sister believing in sci-fi crap, she whole heartedly trusts her sister.

I wish she would grow up, she'll believe that they're aliens if I told her.

Penelope: hey what can I say, I'm unrealistically optimistic. 👁👄👁

"What are your names?" Penelope asked elongating her neck to see past her sister.  She watched their eyes. She can tell half way across the kitchen they've seen some horrid things. The eyes will never lie to you. As she she followed their eyes, they landed on her sister. Who nodded her head.

"She told you to stay quiet, didn't she?" My sister learns quickly, Amelia once brought home this guy who never stopped talking about his dog (👀 he should've never come home with her, their not that cute, let me just be honest). And.....

*flashback*

"My dog, Barkley-" I snorted and looked at Amelia with a 'are you low key being serious right now' look. Apparently he didn't notice and kept talking,

"He slobbers all over the place. He messed up my shorts and Birkenstock's I was going to wear on my date tonight" 🧍🏾‍♀️He was- they went to a fancy pants restaurant and he was going to wear- good job Barkley.

"John, jake,paul-"

"Tanner" He said. Oh whoops

"Janitor, I'm going to need you to leave. Almost publically humiliating my sister who would've publically humiliated me by you walking into a dress up date in shorts and Birkenstocks in late Autumn. Wish Barkley my best regards and hopes they live an amazing life" Penelope shoved Tanner out of the door and looked at Amelia disappointingly.

"I can't believe you were going to waste both of our times and almost made me burn my pizza."

*end of the flashback  

They stayed silent.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"So, they're from 1917, in 2019?"

"Yes." Remind me to ask Amelia why she brought these dudes to a whole new time period.

"They don't know damn near any of the things in our house. How much time do I have?"

"4 hours a day" She said fast.

"4- you're giving me 4 hours to figure out their clothes and teach them stuff?Why only four hours? What are you doing?"

"The same thing. But i"ll teach two, you'll teach 1"

"You still didn't answer my question, why only 4 hours?"

"You'll get attached." a scoff coming from my throat. "I don't get attached alright. I know how to teach and not care about my students thank you very much."

"So, you're going to forget the one with the-"{

"I TOLD YOU TO NEVER SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN. " She looked over at the strangers

The brothers going back and forth at the sisters.

"Plus he doesn't count"

"Fine! Who am I taking."

"John."

Penelope gave her a sarcastic look. She has no idea who is who.

John twisted his toothpick around his his mouth as he got up to follow the girl upstairs into her room.

He wasn't to far behind her with cap on his head. His eyes looking her up and down taking in her clothes, her hair, and even her socks.

"So, you're John Shelby." She said setting up an area in her room for her to start teaching him.

"And your the famous Penelope Taylor."

"Glad the introductions are over, so tell me about your life. I want to see where I need to start

[yandere-mha-blog]

Chapter 7: New lease on life

words: 2335

You weren't headed towards the police station but the building of the Hero public safety commission, so they were liars as well, it was very fitting for them. When they did stop they grabbed you by your arm and harshly pulled you out of the car.

“Wouldn't you normally take me to the police station?” You said

“We would if you weren’t involved with a high stack villain.” The man said, “Also word of advice, start talking right away to avoid the negations.”

“What?” you asked looking very confused as the two of you went into an elevator and he pressed the down button

“I thought you would be smarter than this, weren't you in school to become a surgeon, to think you would throw that all out.” He said, you rolled your eyes, as the elevator dinged and he escorted you down the hall outside a door where someone was waiting and he handed you off to them and left down the hallway, the other guy opened the door and shoved you down on a seat

“Stay still if you make any movements we won't hesitate to take drastic measurements.” He said leaving the room, how classy of them. You waited, and waited and waited some more before someone came in a familiar face.

“Hello again (last name).” The president said

“OH it's you, you know you didn't have to do the whole sending a squat team and escorting me off-campus in the biggest way possible,” you said

“I think you have bigger things to worry about.” she said putting the note down “I think you know what this is.”

Way to be caught between a rock and a hard place.

“What about it?” you asked

“We know this was front eh nighthawk, and the whole thanks for not snitching on me, I found very interested.” She said, “Now we need your cooperation.”

“Why would I do that?” you asked “I don't like you guys very much, so far you have arrested me twice and brought me to some shady underground interrogation room.”

“(name) the Nighthawk isn't someone you want to get mixed up in, we know he killed Akio, now tell me the whole truth.” “You really want to know the real story?” you asked

“Very much so.” She said

“Well okay, there I was trying to get some girl out of being assaulted, and Akio jumps on me and started strangling me, I was going to die, but then what happens, suddenly he is off me and pinned to the wall, this Nighthawk told me to leave and to take the girl,” you said

“So you were lying to us?” she asked

“You guys have exactly proven you are the most sympathetic people.” you said “But I don't know anything about him.”

“Why didn't you report him, or tell the police?”

“Not like they would have taken it seriously.” you said “and then once I left the police station, you go and stalk me and get so many of your employees hurt.” “I too am curious as to why he attacked them, they weren't after him.” She said

“Ask him not me, oh wait you can’t,” you said

“(name) we can have you put in jail for a very long time if you refuse to cooperate.” She said

“I’m calling your bluff, if you wanted me in jail you would have taken me there instead of here, I anti helping you,” you said

“Guess we have to convince you to cooperate another way,” she said getting up and leaving, as two men came in and grabbed you again dragging you off to another lower level and strapped onto a chair.

“Do what you need to get her cooperation.” The president said as another man walked in

“Quirk?” he asked, you stayed quiet “I’ll ask you again, quirk?”

“Why does it matter?” you asked, he raised his hand and placed a stinging slap across your face

“One more time your quirk?” he asked, you didn't answer and he placed another slap across your face, you just spat on his shoe.

“Fine be that way.” he said looking at your file.``He said, “Okay, you have talons, you flex your fingers and sharp knives like talons emerge from under your nails.”

“IF you had my record why the hell are you asking me for it?” you said, as he got out pair of pliers

“This should do it,” he said and you balled your hands in a fist, guess these people here saw you as nothing more than an accomplice to murder.

“Shit shit shit.” Hawks was thinking to himself as he was flying to the HPSC, this wasn’t good as he landed in an alleyway, it was hard to sneak around when you had two giant pairs of redwings on your back. They took you during the day something down there was near impossible, just what exactly were they planning, he knew they had taken you down to the sub-basement, well it was impossible for him to sneak down there without getting caught, he knew of one guy who would be able to get him down there and yoink you out of there in one piece, he didn't like who it was though.

As hawks flew down to a seemingly abandon bar he was confused, he looked at the card that the guy who was covered in mist said saying if he changed his mind come here, Hawks was looking around the location and seemingly nothing, he didn't have time to waste so he banged on the back door if this was some sort of sick joke he wasn't laughing, he was just about to leave when a black portal opened up, guess that was the cue to go in.

“Glad to see you have changed your mind.” He heard and looked towards Kurogiri

“Well not really changed my mind, I am not interested in joining any type of group, I need a favor.” Hawks said

“Forget it.” He heard another voice saw who was at the end of the bar, he never got used to the hands covering his face, didn't it smell.

“Now Tomura this is where negotiations come in.” Kurogiri said, “Still If you are expecting a favor from us without expecting us to ask something of you, I am afraid you are flying too high.”

“Because the lack of oxygen is messing with your brain,” Tomura said

“Hey look here, I am all for repaying favors here.” Hawks said

“Well, we don't need you.” Tomura said, “I already have my ace in the hole for the first plan of attack.” Tomura said “And I have more than enough players for it. You are too late, now piss off.”

“Okay...harsh.” Hawks said, “But think of me as a backup plan.”

“I already have a backup plan.” Tomura said, “Still I suppose having you as a player in the future would be useful, but what exactly is your favor you want from us?”

“Well I kinda got this person mixed up and the HPSC is keeping her in the sub-basement, and I can't sneak in that far.” Hawks said, “Look you hate heros', I hate who they work for.”

“What exactly is your goal here?” Kurogiri asked

“I want to see the HPSC crumble.” Hawks said, “But now it's just personal.”

“Hmm, tell you what bird brain, if I have my Kurogiri teleport you down there and back, you will owe a favor no questions asked, got it.”

“Got it.” Hawks said

“Kurogiri, you know the location of the sub-basement right.” Tomura asked

“That is correct but chances are once my quirk is activated down there it will set off an alarm, you will have to move quickly,” Kurogiri said

“Well, that's what I'm known for.” Hawks said

You were seeing white from pain, your left hand was shaking as blood was dripping out from under your nail, you looked over in pure shock, you saw your left thumb talon laying on the desk, so this was their plan huh, rip your nails out till you agree to work with them. You were just about to pass out with pain when the man slapped you across the face again.

“Wake up, don’t be passing out on me, now you want to have your right one out next, or your left pinky finger?” He asked, “Or we can skip all this and you can just be corporate.”

“If...if you think, for one second I am going to be anything but cooperative with you after you ripped out my talon, you must have something wrong with you,” you said as you were dry heaving

“Okay, pinky finger it is then.” He said, you gritted your teeth as he presses your pinky talon out right before a loud blazing alarm went off

‘CODE RED, CODE RED, INFILTRATOR ON THE SUB-BASEMENT LEVELS’

The man who just ripped your talon off ran out and locked the door and this must of been your lucky day, your hand was shaking front he pains till you heard a loud ‘thunk’ again the door which could only assume to be a body before the door opened and you saw hawks

“There you are-Holy fuck what the hell did they do to you!?” Hawks said looking at your thumb that was dripping blood, you had better days, he was horrified but not surprised as he ran over and tried to undo the straps that were keeping you on the chair “OH screw it I'm taking the chair, hey I kind of need to portal now.”

To your shock, you managed to get out of there and we're in a weird bar, maybe the pain was making you hallucinate, still, as hawks were tugging on the straps Tomura spoke up

“I thought you said it was someone important, not your damn girlfriend.” Tomura said, “Like someone who was actually useful.”

“She is important to me.” Hawks said getting your arms undone then working on the ones around your ankles “And she isn't my girlfriend either.”

“Well, you got her back so now you owe us Hawks.” Tomura said

“I know I know I'm not one to go around breaking my word.” HE said as got out and looked at your hands “Oh those ...can’t believe this.”

“Well whatever you're going to go on a rampage about isn't going to happen here, Kurogiri you can send them away now,” Tomura said as Kurogiri opened a warp gate

“We will call for you when we need it,” Kurogiri said as hawks slung you over his shoulder

“Noted.” Hawks said stepping through and finding it a bit odd that they knew the location of his hideout, not that he stayed in one place for long. You still looked out of it, what happened in there all he knew was that your thumb was bleeding and you were in searing pain, he had some sort of pain medication around here right?

He sat you down on the floor as he was searching around.

“Hawks….what are you doing?” you asked “Who were those guys, and where the hell am i.”

“One question at a time please.” Hawks said handing you a glass of water and some Tylenol

“I'm going to need a strong opioid for this,” you said but taking what you could, you did take the medication.

“(name) what exactly happened down there?” Hawks asked pointing to your left thumb

“Oh that...they wanted my cooperation for something but when I refused, they took out one of my talons,” you said

“....they did what?’ Hawks said trying to remain calm, you just nodded your head

“My left thumb talon, the guy ripped it out, he was going for my pinky one but luckily you came in time.”

“I saw some guy leave the room you were in and I thought him against the door, didn't know he did well...that. He said pointing to your thumb

“I’ll be okay, I just need some bandages.” you said “But where the hell am I?”

“Well at my place.” Hawks said, “I don't usually hang around one palace for long so it's a little under furnished, I'll go try to find some bandages.” Hawks said as you nodded your head using your shirt to put pressure on your injury. Hawks came out with some gazes and you took them from him. “You want some help?” He asked

“I know how to wrap up wounded better than you.” you said “Don't take that offensively but the number of scars on your arms shows that you don't exactly know how to treat a wound.”

“Haha well, you're not wrong.” Hawks said, “So what are you going to do now?”

“What do you mean, according to them I'm an accomplice to murder, of one of the most dangerous villains in japan, got broken out by a said villain, I can’t just go back to school after this.”

“That's kind of what I'm referring to, you don't know anyone in the underground that you can just crash with-”

“Ahem.” you said staring him down “Sorry buddy but as of now you are kind of stuck with me.”

“Ohhh I see, that makes the most sense, and since this is my fault, okay I'll take you under my wing.”

“Stop with the bird puns.” You said “Look I'm not exactly the most athletic type, but I am smarter than most, so tell you what, you keep me from the HPSC, I'll be your medic.” you said

“Well that sounds like a sweet deal, you would be valuable there aren't a lot of medics in my line of work.” Hawks said doing air quotes around the word work.

“So look you keep me from getting arrested and provide me with basic food and shelter, 'll help in what way I can in your goal, along with being your medic, do we have a deal?” you said sticking out your right hand

“Sounds like a deal.” Hawks said shaking your hand, this was the start of your new life.

[remmushound]

Bay/rise 34!! @brightlotusmoon @errorfreak88 @digitl-art-monstr @selfindulgenz @yarchurr @dakotafinely @yarchurr @sententiously-sarcastic @sprinklestheditty

“This is fucking stupid.” Raph was pacing anxiously, his frustrations coming out in the form of heavy breaths.

“I totally agree.” Donnie agreed, “But you know Leo. He’d not gonna let this go.”

“He he fucking ought to! We ain’t got time for this shit!”

The Leo’s were both separately getting ready for the spar, but with such an open space it was nearly impossible for them to get out of each other's line of sight. This resulted in what could only be described as a heated staring content between the both of them as they sharpened their katana and odachi almost passive-aggressively. The brothers and sister of both proud ninja were intermingled in a group together— their brothers’ antics weren’t enough to drive them apart completely, but it was enough for a wedge to be stuck between them.

“Is Leo gonna be okay?” Michelangelo appealed to Donatello, grabbing a hold of the older teens arm.

“I don’t know Michael.” Donatello sighed, sticking his nose in the air in his frustration, “Leon’s always getting himself in this kind of trouble! It’s gonna catch up to him eventually!”

“Hopefully not today.” Michelangelo said, looking to Leo. “Other Leo is very large. He’s jumbo sized!”

“Sadly, his brain didn't get the memo.”

Mikey was looking between both of the Leo’s with no small amount of guilt. Donnie had given him the clear after he had calmed slightly and the pain in his chest wasn’t so bad, but now the pain had been replaced with an intense sadness. Michelangelo nudged his brother and pointed to the sad box turtle, and then both brothers nodded at each other with similar intent as they marched over and each took a seat beside Mikey. 

“Why the long face?” Michelangelo pouted.

“I dunno, Mike, seems kinda… oblong to me.” Donatello motioned vageuly to Mikey’s face.

Mikey gave the slightest chuckle before he started to cry softly. Michelangelo frowned and looked to Donatello, who quickly pulled a tissue from out of his battle shell and offered it to Mikey. Mikey accepted it and, after a moments thought, said,

“You just carry tissues around wherever?”

“I never know when I’ll have to break out the dramatics~!” Donatello struck a pose.

“Are you okay?” Michelangelo gave Mikey a gentle stroke on the shoulder. “You look sad.”

“I’m just… useless.” Mikey hung his head.

That statement caused both Hamato brothers to erupt in loud, overlaying denial as they practically swarmed Mikey trying to convince him otherwise.

“You’re not!”

“You’re really not.”

“You’re incredible!”

“I once tried nunchucks for a day. Hit myself in the head, cried in a corner, slept in said corner. Very traumatizing.”

“You can do lots of things!”

“Except fight, apparently…” Mikey pouted, crossing his arms. “I just watched my dad and your dad get taken and I did nothing!”

“You’re not the only one who did nothing!” Donatello offered.

Michelangelo swatted Donatello and scowled at him a second before turning back to Mikey. “You panicked— that’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

“We were there! We— we could’ve helped stop them! We—“

“What could we have done…?” Michelangelo asked softly, laying a hand on Mikey’s knee.

Mikey gave a long, tired sigh reminiscent of someone far older with many more years of life bearing down on his shoulders. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.” Michelangelo said, “But what we could’ve done is gotten hurt! He took out all your brothers in one swing! All we would’ve ended up doing is getting taken out with them.”

“But don’t you think—“

“Come on.” Mikey’s words were interrupted by his Leo, who had lost what little patience remained as he strutted forward with the confidence of gods. “Let’s get this over with.”

Leo was the first in the dojo and he stood there as if he was still challenging Leonardo to back down at the cost of his honor. Leonardo didn't move from his place where he was still polishing his odachi.

“Well?” Leo prompted, “Come on! You challenged me to this, remember! Don’t you want to defend your honor?”

Leonardo thought for a second, and then shrugged. “Eh, never really had much of that to begin with. And I have all the time in the world baby!”

Despite his words, Leonardo seemed to accept his counterpart's challenge and stood from his seated position, giving his odachi a few experimental swipes before he came to join Leo in the dojo.

“This ain’t gonna end good...” April shook her head. Her face was painted to match Leonardo’s markings and she brandished a blue flag in support. Upon seeing Leonardo entering the dojo, however, she promptly cheered, “WHOOP WHOOP! YOU GOT THIS LEON!”

The rest of the gathered mutants— all except Raphael, who was still sleeping off his exhaustion— gathered in a tight group to watch as the scene unfolded. Donnie split from the group one last time in an attempt to appeal to his brother.

“Leo, this is crazy!” Donnie said, but it was like talking to a wall, “You can’t fight him!”

“Why not?” Leo asked calmly without dignifying Donnie’s concern with even a glance.

“Well, one, he's a child.” Donnie deadpanned, “And two, we need to be focusing on finding Master Splinter.”

“Trust me Don, this isn’t gonna take very long.”

“What you gonna do, punt the fifteen year old?!”

“He’s the one who picked a fight.” Leo growled.

“Yeah. Oh course he did.” Donnie leaned closer to his brother and spoke slowly, as if Leo were dense, “He’s. A. Teenager. A dumb, confident teenager!”

“So are we.”

“We’re gonna be twenty next month— I hardly think it counts!”

Leo didn't respond. He stared forward with a determined look and simply walked away from Donnie, leaving his younger brother staring after him with a frustrated disbelief.

Leo faced his counterpart. “Do you know the duel rights?”

Leonardo shrugged almost cartoonishly.

“Of course not.” Leo sighed, then carried on, “Rule number one: The offending party has the right to an apology and, if it is accepted by the offended party, then the duel will not carry to term.”

“Okay, so you gonna apologize them?” Leonardo asked, almost hopefully.

Leo narrowed his eyes and gave no answer. “If there is no apology met, then the next rule of order is to choose a second. The seconds are the judges— they try to reach a peace, and if a peace is unable to be met, then we move onto phase three. My second is my brother Raphael.” 

Raph grunted softly and split off from the group to hesitantly come to Leo’s side. 

“Don, you feeling up to it?” Leonardo looked to his brother.

Donatello gave it a moment's thought before shrugging and sauntering off almost in a bored fashion to Leonardo’s side.

“How do we win?” Leonardo asked.

“To win, you must knock down your opponent and hold your blade to their throat. Rule number three! The seconds try to negotiate a peace.” Leo gave a nod, and Raph lumbered forward to meet Donatello in the middle. The two of them quickly fell to a hushed discussion.

“Hello.” Donatello said, his eyes half-lidded and his voice dull.

“Hey— can’t you just try and get your Leo to apologize?” Raph almost pleaded, “You know this ain’t exactly a fair fight.”

“I know.” Donatello replied with little enthusiasm. “Your Leo’s gonna get knocked flat on his Gluteus Maximus. That’s science terms for buttocks. Aka: ass.”

Raph gave a half-amused snort. “No offense, pancake, but I think we both know that ain’t right.”

“Oh wowwwwww, so original.” Donatello slumped, “I’m so hurt. Then again you do have a good point.

Raph smiled, thinning himself victorious until Donatello added,

“I mean, there’s nothing Maximus about his Gluteus.” Donatello motioned to Leo with his thumb.

“No—” Raph growled and forced a smile as he addressed Donatello with slow words, “What I meant was that your brother is gonna end up with the same fate as a firework on Fourth of July.” He made an explosion motion and added his own sound effects, “I mean— come on! It’s like a dodge against a semi-truck— your bro stands no chance!”

“I think we can stand to disagree on that.” Donatello defended his brother calmly.

Raph fixed Donatello with a deadpan expression. “You’re not gonna back down are you?”

“Negatory.” Donatello finally smiled— little more than a slight curve of his lips, but still a smile. “Or way— would that be an affirmative? Eh. Doesn’t matter. Either way I believe we are done here.”

Without another word, he spun on his heels and carried himself confidently over to his brother’s side. Raph grumbled as he often did before taking his leave a few seconds after. There was a minute of stressful silence as both seconds reported to their brothers before Leo stepped forward again.

“Rule four. Draw your weapon only once there is a medic on sight with his back turned.”

Leonardo whistled. “I mean, not that I couldn’t beat you with my back turned, but seriously?”

“Not you.” Leo growled, “Donnie will be our medic on standby.” Leo motioned the tech genius to turn around, and Donnie hesitantly obeyed. This left only the Mikey’s watching. Once Leo was satisfied, he went on, “Rule five would usually include dueling at dawn, but I hardly think it matters down here.”

Leonardo looked up at the high ceiling and then down at Leo. 

“Rules six and seven are also moot given our particular circumstances. Unless you have a god you pray to…?”

“Eh, some may describe me as a God, but I think I forgive myself for my sins~”

It took everything Leo had to keep his cool. “Rule number eight. Your last chance to set the record straight.”

“Hey! That rhymed! Good for you!”

“Wait are you just getting these from the Hamilton Musical?” Donatello started to ask, but was interrupted; even as Leo spoke over him, he still continued to talk until he finished the sentence.

“Rule number nine! Look your enemy in the eye.” He and Leonardo locked gazes, “Meet your enemy in the middle…”

Leonardo and Leo took four paces each until they were directly in front of each other.

“Summon your courage in any way necessary.” Leo said cooly, giving a bow that Leonardo returned, “Take a minute to breathe, then take ten paces back.”

The Leo’s were almost in perfect sync as they took their paces backward, now several paces behind their seconds while still facing each other.

“Ready your sword…”

Twin katana and a single odachi were held at the ready.

“Take one final breath…”

No one in the room breathed.

“And count to ten. One… two… three… four...”

“...five...six…seven… eight... nine...”

“Ten.”

[jiminrings]

the volleyball shorts

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: coach koo’s just dying to know what his present is, you’re panicking because you can’t think of a present, and jimin and the gang tolerate jungkook a little bit better because it’s his special day :D // contains smut + gif isn’t mine!!

notes: happy birthday jungkook!!! i baked brownies irl for you u should come over sometime!!!

if you’ve read most valuable, the piece that started it all, then you knOw what i’m alluding to with jungkook and his relationship with y/n’s volleyball shorts!!

you swear,,

you could even really SWEAR on the brand-new refrigerator that you need to knock twice on to see what it contained that you split the price with jimin

and forcibly with also jungkook because he stays over so much at yours and jimin’s place that he’s basically a roommate now

and alsO forcibly with taehyung and yoongi because apparently your apartment is now everyone’s gathering place and they raid and inhale ur fridge atleast 72 times per day that the electricity bill’s gone up

that yesterday, it was just a month away from jungkook’s birthday!! you swear!!

and two hours ago, it was two weeks away!!

AND NOW

you can’t really digest the truth

that it’s just f i v e days away now

and you have zero thoughts to how you’re gonna throw jungkook his birthday bash :D

the guys probably figured that out too lol because they have an idea to how you’d be all over the place for even something miniscule

like one time you and jimin bought two rugs you couldn’t decide upon then you just agreed that you’d fit it underneath the coffee table and whichever looks ugly, you’ll return it later

but then the two rugs ended up being too pretty that you couldn’t decide nOW

and jupiter barked out of the blue and it was a eureka moment because :D aHA jimin what if we just let jupiter pick out the rug?? then that way it’s fair???

but then jupiter ended up lying on bOTH the rugs and now you were distraught

jimin was reassuring you like eH it’s okay let’s just go about our days and not spend y’know :D all our time trying to figure out what to pick :D

and then you obviously refused and you stayed up the whole night picking a goddamn rug and jimin was so close to toppling over in fear when he went to grab water at three in the morning

anyways

that’s why they’re here!!! even before you could call and gather them up when jungkook had to leave by himself to settle some things because he’s the coach,,

even before you could text tae and yoongi to take the elevator, they’re already knocking at your door

“...”

“......”

everyone’s just looking at each other in this makeshift circle you’re all in around the coffee table

even jupiter’s stopped barking and he’s been barking for the past five minutes at the new cactus succulent that jimin bought!!!

they’re waiting

waiting for that —

“I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO FOR JUNGKOOK I’M SUCH A BAD GIRLFRIEND A-AND-“

aha

meltdown

“not to stir the pot, but jungkook always zones out at practice and even during games then gIGGLES to himself!! and when i ask him why, he says that he’s just thinking about what you’re getting him for his birthday!!”

jimin shudders at that too because whew

like he knew that koo sometimes talks to inanimate objects but man his superior (albeit younger) is out here imagining his birthday present in the middle of a neck-and-neck game

he’s conversing with himself like he’s talking to you and that just makes him speechless

“kook buddy i haven’t played volleyball competitively in like two years but i sUGGEST you focus or else i will spike you haha jk but no really ahaha :))”

“not to stir the pot too, but jungkook asked me to play happy birthday. on the snare. happy birthday. ON THE SNARE.”

this time, it’s taehyung’s turn to shudder

because he got a new head that’s louder and more tear-resistant and he wanted to try it out ok

and what better way to try that than when it’s in one of your practice games??

he has his drumsticks already lifted but then out of nowhere jungkook pOps out with a cheeky grin on his face and tae almost pokes him in the eye

“how many syllables are your name, tae?”

“... are you really asking me this?”

“yeah!! how many?”

“... three, jungkook. what, do you need ME to count yOUR syllables for you??”

oh my god that is such a stupid question

but it’s coming from jungkook so lmao tae isn’t all that surprised

“what’s three plus twenty?”

“i get that you’re an athlete but don’t you kNOW how to count???”

“hyung what’s three plus twenty??”

“... twenty-three....”

tae’s so close to narrowing his eyes because if this is another one of jungkook’s lame pranks then he’s gonna whack him in the head for this

but then all of a sudden jungkook jUMPS and squeals before clapping his hands

“twenty-three days before my birthday!! quick quick play happy birthday for me nOW :D”

that’s so... chilling

“now not to stir the pot even further, but y/n,,, baby,,, why didn’t you brainstorm earlier??”

yoongi goes straight-in for the kill and it’s his version of “i told you so” but that does not make it better whatsoever

that’s the thing you don’t know either!!!!

and it’s totally your fault and you shouldn’t have been complacent because now you’re paying the repercussions of cramming AND panic-sweating!!!

it’s okay!

you got this! :D

“how about some more black shirts??” tae pitches in and it’s a resounding no from you and the assistant coach

“jungkook has enough of those,, even jimin and i can take a dozen from his stash and it won’t even make a dent!!”

jimin’s racking his brain and he hasn’t thought about something this hard but ok fine anything for you

“new chunky shoes?? but uGH he already has too many of those-“ that makes him groan even harder because buying another pair for kook means him tripping over them

not to mention that the shoe rack is now taken over by jungkook atleast 50%

and once again jimin reiterates <3 this is the y/n and jimin apartment and nOT the y/n and jimin and this dude that dOESN’T pay rent apartment

yoongi’s in deep thought as everyone around him throws ideas around

okay dOn’t tell anyone but yoongi’s now getting into bullet-journaling :D

tae just gave him a dotted notebook one day because he accidentally bought a dozen instead of one from amazon so lol here hyung u like writing right???

by writing, yoongi meant scribbling haphazardly and waking up the next day and trying to decipher his own handwriting

but then he came over to your apartment and you bought pastel highlighters because they were on sale and nOT because you needed them and you wanted to try them out!!! but jungkook was sick that time and you needed to make soup :((

“yeah ok leave it to me,, i’ll swatch it for you or something.,.,.”

one thing led to another and :D AHA

yoongi blackmailed everyone to not say a single word to anyone that he now loves bullet-journaling and he had to whack tae one time when he kept teasing him

also he now has a bujo account on instagram and it’s nearing 5k followers omg and he will d-word when someone irl finds out that it’s him

“boxers.”

yoongi says seriously and it makes everyone shut up because he sounded sO sure

he just has this certain authorative aura around him that you wavered because oH right yes boxers,,, will buy,,,, thank you

lol but you snapped out of it

“jungkook already has too many boxers!! he likes basketball shorts more nowadays and-“

“what? who said the boxers were for jungkook??” yoongi scrunches his nose at your ridiculous reply

your eyes are squinted so hard as you try to decipher the flow of thoughts of everyone in this circle

“oh. i want boxers. want them for christmas!! take note, y/n.”

oh

okay

cool

good news: you now know what you’re gonna give to yoongi on christmas

bad news: you dON’T know what to give to your boyfriend on his birthday five days from now

there’s something somewhere in the middle of all the banter that you’ve tuned out though

something that just makes your eyes bulge and hit whoever’s lap is beside you repeatedly (first of all it’s jimin’s for the record and second oW THAT HURTS) with a grin on your face before you hurriedly stand up and they equally as hurriedly do after

“i know what to get!!”

jungkook’s stArting to get antsy if he’s being honest

it’s not because he’s in his own apartment with you after so long he’s stayed over at yours

he really doesn’t mind that bit, no

jimin, tae, and yoongi were all staying over at your apartment instead as they make the last bit of preparations for jungkook’s birthday the next day!!

they all insisted that you rest because you’ve been so frantic the last couple of days and tbh even taehyung hyped of tWO cups of coffee can’t keep up

no — jungkook’s so antsy because he doesn’t know what you have in store for him :((

for the last five days you haven’t touched him nor did you let him touch you :((

a heated makeover that’s cut too short is as far as it could only go and he’s just so????

like is that a part of your birthday surprise or nOT

he has a love-hate relationship with surprises now because first of all,,,

he kNOWS that there’s gonna be a surprise and that excites him

but the worst of it all is that he knows there’s a surprise but he doesn’t know what it is

that’s like uhm

standing fifty feet away and being forced to pick between a lifetime supply of sugar and salt that’s placed into jars but u don’t know which is which

that is such an odd example to compare it to but that’s only what jungkook could process this now oKAY

you still let jungkook cuddle you so he guesses he could still touch you

he could rest his hand on your tummy!!!

but riGht when he’s about to sneak in a lil squeeze at your boob over your shirt then that’s when you slap his hand away and he frowns

just some hOURS left and it’s finally his birthday!!! he’ll just nuzzle to your neck and all would be fine :)

the lil party’s gonna be thrown in jungkook’s apartment anyways because as you’ve all come to known:

his apartment’s bigger than the one you and jimin share and that irks him because!!!

“yOU have the bigger and better aprtment why are you still cramping at ours???”

“i like staying with you guys!!!”

“nO you like staying with y/n and i come in handy when you need to steal someone’s pasta from!! i bought you tupperware and wrote your name on it but you still eat from mINE!!”

now everyone has their designated roles

jimin’s in charge of making the lasagna and he takes great pride in arranging the layers neatly and not half-assing the amount of cheese

taehyung had the great idea of wAIT what if they don’t like lasagna?? (jimin was offended by that omg who wouldn’t like my lasagna are u kiddinG)

so what he did was bring over this foldable table :D lay cups of ramen neatly :D decorate jungkook’s kettle because he realized that it looks like dOlphin when you tilt it sideways :D

and it’s now tae’s ramen station and so far the party-goers are LOVING it and it’s a close tie between him n jimin

yoongi’s in charge of food that the other two didn’t bother to think about basically

you locked jungkook in his own room lmao and had to bribe him with a kiss or two to stay there and not leave until you tell him to

you’re in charge of the decoration and not to toot ur own horn or anything but you did a pretty damn good job :D

there’s foil balloons you had to blow up and decorate meticulously

lol jimin accidentally bought the wrong ones so now it’s JUNGK00K instead of JUNGKOOK

you even learned how to fold paper cranes so u could fold the quantity of them to jungkook’s age for yoongi to stick them up to the ceiling

you EVEN bought blackout curtains and a lil disco light!!! that’s how well-put you were despite cram-planning!!

it was time to let out jungkook because the guests were starting to come in

and oh my gOD jungkook does clean up well..,.. wow

he’s dressed himself in just a white button-up but with the sleeves folded and some buttons left alone

thEn it’s the same black jeans but with a fancy belt he only pulls out whenever he goes to prissy parties!!!

and oh god

oh my

it’s his slicked hair that’s showing his forehead and tHAT’S when it sinks in you that oh.,.,. right.,.. jungkook’s growing his hair out and he’s been in a cap this past week and OH

it only hits you that oh.,.. jesus christ.,.,. jungkook has a mULLET

it’s a mullet-type of situation and it’s part-straight and part-wavy and wOW

you want nothing more but to pounce on him and it makes you audibly gUlp

jungkook’s as surprised as you were of him because w-wait a second

ok you’re wearing your favorite white shirt with the print on it that you wear at home!! he isn’t surprised

but are you wearing vOLLEYBALL SHORTS.,.,..

like as in the same volleyball shorts... that he..... adores..... a-and fantasizes over

oh my god everybody shut up

is that-

is that hIS OLD VARSITY JACKET????

the one with Jeon embroidered in the back and the one he wore to death that it still has his scent on it even if you washed it clean???

.... oh

that uH that makes jungkook put a hand over his chest

god im coming up

the party was an absolute bLAST!!

you and jungkook would stray from each other time to time because you’re each whisked away to talk but you’d always find each other after

you cAn’t contain yourselves at the sight of one another

kook keeps putting his arm around your waist and you keep squeezing his forearm

over-all it was such a great party 20/10

the girls chipped in to buy their coach jungkook (u put the idea in their head and they were amazed because they didn’t think of it) a smartwatch and he was so :D upon receiving it because wOah!!! omg he’s now a smartwatch owner sUck that kim namjoon

kim wears these fancy analog watches still and that makes jungkook roll his eyes because yEa that may be a rolex but my team did obliterate yours lmaOoo what about that huh

jimin’s gift was very heartwarming no matter how much he denies it to be

first he bought jungkook matching slippers with him because he’s so irked to see jungkook in chunky sneakers aLL the time

then uhm

an official key to the apartment and a written letter that when the two of your drive back,,, you could all do a handprint at the picture frame with the four of you and that’s jupiter’s paw included

you’re not gonna lie that dID make you tear up a little bit because wow :((( jimin used to be hesitant of jungkook at first but nOw he’s officially welcoming jungkook in with no anger whatsoever

kook also did cry a lil bit and they hugged it out

taehyung hand-knitted a blanket for jungkook with lil dolphins on them

he missed some stitches but he did his best oKAY and koo was so excited because wow omg this is so good!!!

yoongi bought jungkook a guitar because yeah.,.,. u dO get into my nerves sometimes but i care for you and i guess you’re my little brother now :)) i don’t make the rules

and as for your gift

... well

everyone’s already left and it’s just the two of you now finally

jungkook’s sat at the edge of the bed patiently because you’re fishing for the paper bag you’ve hidden and he’s sO on edge alright

he’s closed his eyes and you didn’t even tell him to so he’s THAT obedient

“you can open them now,” you’re sat on jungkook’s lap and it’s quite the tease for you to be perched near to his knees instead of his crotch but oK he won’t complain yet

it’s a box??

oh

... oH

“that’s for me??”

jungkook awes immediately when he opens to box and sees shiny silver gleam right up at him

it’s the matching thick necklace and bracelet he’s been eyeing for quite some time now yet refUses to buy

and here it is!!!! right in his hands!!!

“yes and they dOn’t allow refunds so please just wear them and don’t make yourself guilty!!”

you’re taking it from his hands and he’s smiling giddily when you clasp the cool jewelry around his neck and on his wrist

cute

and now it’s time for —

“i’m sleepy. are you sleepy yet?”

you do your part in messing with jungkook as you stifle a yawn, pretending to arrange things around the room before settling near him at the edge of the bed

he almost gives himself whiplash to look at you because you can NOT be serious

“no you’re not. you aren’t sleepy. your eyes tear up when you wanna go to bed.”

it’s endearing for you that he knows thay but you just continue to deadpan for the time-being

“i do? well i think i’m tearing up now.”

jungkook scoffs and crosses his arms across his chest because nO your eyes are dry!!!! look at them!!!! not a single tear!!!!

he’s looking at you so pointedly that it makes you chuckle, finally sitting down on his lap properly like he wanted you to that it makes him grunt

jungkook hasn’t had any decent action for a week now and even the slightest contact of you sitting on him, still-clothed, already makes him cRUMBLE

the thought that you’re in your volleyball shorts doesn’t help at all

it’s nice seeing him so flustered and willed right now,, his pupils already blOwn out and you haven’t even done anything

jungkook’s beautiful and that isn’t up to debate but even more-so up close that you could hear his labored yet trembling breathing

“you wanna kiss me?”

that dOES it for him and he almost leaps at the question but that’s when you pull back to which he audibly whines

:D

you come back again but it’s you who initiates it and jungkook practically melts at the taste of your mouth, already getting handsy as he squeezes at your thighs

he’s the one who’s gaining the upper hand and that was nOT the plan so that’s why you pull away right when he’s getting drunk on you

he’s chasing after your lips and you practically tut at him condescendingly that makes him huff again

“say please.”

aHA

jungkook’s eyes widen at that and he scoffs in disbelief because oh my god so tHIS is what you’re doing

now this is what he makes you say

and you never got him to say please because whenever you urge him to he just laUGHS upfront and it makes you pout

no jungkook’s not gonna do —

his giggling’s cut short when you let your mouth wander to his neck and right on to his sweet spot, immediately sucking on it harshly to paint your mark on

there’s slow kisses on his jugular nexy and you won’t do the same as what you did to him the first time and it’s frUstrating

add on to that with how you remind him you’re still on his lap with you grinding on him tOO pain-achingly slow

ok jungkook might say please after all

you’re coming back up to his jaw again and kissing everywhere but his lips that it’s starting to make him cave

“pl-“ he stops himself because oh gOd is he yielding but that’s when you snap too smoothly right on him, the intimate yet clothed feeling of you enough to make him moan in distress

“please?”

it’s instant relief when you’re back to kissing jungkook again and he might just bURST at this point and you’ve only been kissing him

tasting your lips is his first priority and breathing’s his second that it makes you chuckle with how needy he is, having to push him off because you know he’s getting light-headed

jungkook’s regaining his breath and he still wants mORE unsurprisingly

you’re taking off his shirt and stripping off his pants that leaves him with his boxers but on the other hand, you’re sTILL fully-clothed sans the varsity jacket

he’s about to do something with that which explains his grabby hands trYing to take off your shirt

but his hands not only get slapped away again, you’re pINNING them down back to the bed

“y/n i swear-“

he’s growing restless because he needs you right here and right now but you’re just tOO stubborn and bossy which is definitely a switch of roles

you grind on him a little too roughly than you intended to but the feeling’s more than welcome because you feel so fULL already and it makes jungkook unintentionally thrust into you

your shorts are feeling more than damp and his boxers are being a little tOo tight now

that’s when you lift yourself up from his crotch and let go of his hands, your face dangerously near his as his pupils shake

jungkook’s clearly looking at your centre and he whines when you still (purposely) won’t get what he’s trying to say

he’s always clearly had a vision of eating you out in your volleyball shorts that’s for sUre

but he didn’t imagine it like this and you know what he’s not complaining his hips try to buck up but to no avail, your finger hooked underneath his chin to make him look at you again

jungkook looks sO fucked out and he knows that far

he cries like a lost puppy with how you press your thumb to his bottom lips, your other hand making soothing circles on his chest

“you want a taste?” you ask ever so gently and that makes kook nod more than eagerly, about to pull you by your thighs and his mouth’s wAtering just by thinking about it

it’s the tut you give him again that makes him succumb, throat strained as he trains his pleading eyes on you for permission

“p-please?” jungkook’s too impatient to wait for an answer as he roughly grabs you to position your clothed core right above his face, immediately pressing his nose to inhale the scent of you with his lips ghosting your already-soaked folds — something so obscene about it that it almost makes your knees buckle, “that’s a g-good boy.”

he’s rELISHING on the slip of your tongue and he wastes no times in taking off your shorts, diving in with an eager tongue that takes you off-guard

now this is the real deal

jungkook takes mUCH pleasure in giving you yours and the unhinged and dirty moans you’re giving him are egging him on further

you taste so sweet and it’s enough to make him dizzy with how you’re opened up to him and for him only

he has a death grip on your thighs because you keep twitching and on the other hand he’s cravinG for you to take everything he’s giving you

he slips his hand to thumb at your clit in desperate circles and god the countdown to when you’re gonna reach your peak becomes alarmingly too near

jungkook doesn’t stop when you’re tugging at his hair roughly or when you’re yelling out his name like a mantra

jungkook doesn’t stop either when his face from the nose down is starting to get messy with the taste of you

doesn’t stop either when he’s starting to see your eyes become glassy and your lip trembling

absolutely doesn’t stop when you snap suddenly and gush over him because in fact, he still continues with much more fervor

jungkook was messy and kept lapping up at what you were giving him that’s enough to drive you into anoTher orgasm with how sensitive you are

holy fuck

jungkook’s laughing against your neck as you’re draped over him, making flowers bloom on your neck with his tongue as he makes you catch your breath

“there’s still another gift i haven’t showed you.”

okay nOW you’re nervous

kook stops pressing kisses and your words obviously make him perk, trying to hide his fascination and excitement but that’s poorly-done with how he’s trying to hide it

“you have mORE?? think y’already gave me heaven if i’m being honest”

he wouldn’t be opposed because honestly speaking his stamina as of the moment would last him aLL night and he’s on a high just from eating you out!!

oh my god you can’t possibly fall in love more with jungkook

you’re tracing the sweat that’s going down on the necklace and it makes you go lightheaded with how perfect he looks

the imprint of his bracelet’s marked snug on your left thigh with how hard he was gripping you earlier

he’s patiently waiting and waiting on you, drumming his fingers on your thighs in anticipation

here goes nothing!!!!

you take off your shirt and aHH jungkook visibly moans at the sight of a bare you

he’s right you are the present

but nO that’s not what you’re trying to get at

jungkook has his wandering hands taken down for the nth time this week but something about this feels a bit more special and reserved

he’s a little lost when you get off from him and instead sit beside him against the pillows, still kneeling on the bed so you could be higher than how he’s sat right now

he is mORE than lost when you smile at him gently and take his hand to —

oh

oh my god

oH MY GOD

it’s a tattoo

it’s a tiny and dainty tattoo on your rib in black ink

JJK

“jjk? that’s-“

holy fucking sHIT

everybody shut up!!!

everybody pLEASE be quiet jungkook needs a moment rn

it’s his initials

in his handwriting

on your skin.

oh my god

you’ve always adored jungkook’s tattoos i mean it’s nOt a surprise for anyone

they peak from time to time but sometimes they get covered with his coach jackets and his hoodies

and it’s at home where you can see them all

there’s a little inkling in the back of your head that oOH you’ve always wanted one like what he has

what was holding you back was that maybe it would affect your career or whatever

you and jimin read the guidelines for a whole hour and it wasn’t illegal for players to have tattoos!!!

as long as it doesn’t go against the rules and it won’t hinder your play

tattoos on the wrist or in between the fingers or in the forearm were a little risky because it’s always in direct contact with how you play

jimin was all thumbs-up on your idea because he himself has a couple of tattoos and was all wOah that’s so sweet!!!

taehyung was very warm with your idea and he swears that he’ll get one soon just give him some tIME to conceptualize what would his first one be

yoongi agreed and he alsO has tattoos himself and he was the most realistic (?) out of the four of you going “well you and jungkook better not break up lol”

he thought of it more and honestly?? he doesn’t see you and jungkook breaking up because there’s just sOMETHING alright??? something so unbreakable

jimin and taehyung and yoongi made a bet when you were getting your tat cleaned up that lmao what year would jungkook propose in

it’s your first tattoo and like you didn’t want to dive in head first and have a whole sLEEVE tattooed on the first occassion ya know

so why not the one you love?

and like it’s hidden by a shirt and obviously not a LOT of people would know about it and —

oh wow

uhhhh

jungkook’s.... crying?

he loves you sO much you have no idea

you’re tasting the salt from his tears when he kisses you so tenderly but it’s okay you don’t mind

he’s the one pinning you down this time and well he used to swear that he’s nEver the one for giggly sex

but oh god look at him now

mAYBE THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU’RE HAPPY AND ON CLOUD NINE!!!

he has your hands flat against the mattress before he holds them :D

this is jungkook’s best birthday eVER 

“wanna spend all my birthdays with you.”

you instantly giggle to his neck and that tickled him a little bit okay

“you wanna marry me??”

you’re feeling everything at once and you have never grinned sO hard and laughed

jungkook rolls his eyes but that’s only because he might burst if he keeps looking at you

“well i don’t have the ring yet dummy but yEs i do want to marry you!!”

mrs. jeon!!!

wow that sounds hEAVENLY

you raise your head to whisper to his ear, leaning down for you instead so you wouldn’t strain yourself, “say please.”

“i hATE you,” jungkook cackles and it should be illegal to how warm and content he feels!! 

“you love me!!” there’s a lil sing-song voice and of cOURSE he does!!

he’s so whipped for you and he might go to the ends of the earth just because you insist

“solid facts.”

“my god—“ jungkook stills, laughing at you who’s underneath him before he breaks out into a grin

a little tiny ᵏᶦˢˢ on your nose

“what was life before you?”

[buckstaposition]

I cling to your lips like gloss (4)

a Javier Peña x OFC story

also on AO3

tags&warnings: spoilers for S3 eps1+2 mainly, some for later episodes also; mention of drug use; brief description of a panic attack; sleazy David Rodríguez is sleazy; somewhat liberal use of the f-word and also other swearing; reference to past canon character deaths; this blog is CIA station chief Bill Stechner-phobic to the max; most non-graphic, vaguest possible reference to sex (to when Javi goes home with that lady in episode 1); oblivious mutual pining; idiots with zero emotional self-awareness; domesticity

word count: 15.435 (I’m sorry, here are some snacks 🍌🥨🧁🥤)

summary: Diana goes into the lions’ den. Javier is not having a good time. No one gets enough sleep.

tag list & author’s notes have been moved to the bottom. let me just say sorry this took me so long and I hope you’re all well and healthy and happy holidays and may the new year be better for all of us 

Masterlist

Prologue • Chapter 1 - The Informant • Chapter 2 - A Wedding and Four Funerals  • Chapter 3 -  Swallow Pride and Anger

Chapter 4 - Prime Numbers

Franklin Jurado, Diana thinks, is a bit of an ass. It's not even that he happily, willingly, goes around laundering narcos' blood money, or that he gets rich off that himself. In this moment, it's mostly the way he dismissively rolls his eyes and can barely keep the contempt out of his voice when arguing with her about Maltese vs Caymanian tax loopholes. Like she's an idiot for actually reading the laws, spotty as they are. 

On top of everything, it's keeping her in her office well past the time she was meaning to start getting changed and dolled up for the grand party that night, and she feels a pressure headache of annoyance building behind her temples to boot. 

She's this close to bludgeoning the man with her stapler when an insistent knock sounds at the door, followed by a blonde head poking in. The blonde lady starts speaking in rapid English, too abrupt for Diana's brain to keep up with what is being said, but she instinctively recognized the tone of a husband being reamed out with righteous indignation and if nothing else, it gives her a certain kind of vindication. 

"Hi, I'm Christina Jurado. Just Christina is fine. Pleasure to meet you!" The other woman now stepped fully into her office, holding out her hand and smiling just a tad too brightly. 

"Diana...Galindo." Why she'd chosen to be known here under her married name is anyone's guess. Perhaps it was mostly a matter of having grown used to it. Perhaps it allowed her to pretend that this wasn't quite her, just an act to be put on for a greater purpose. That helping drug cartel bosses hide their blood money from the tax man and signing off on their henchmen's paychecks was something that Diana Teresa Artemisia Rivas Rincón would not be caught dead doing, no matter the circumstances. "Pleased to meet you." 

"Franklin, we'll be late!" the other woman throws over her shoulder. Rather pointedly, too. 

"We're not done discussing-" 

"I don't care, Franklin!" There's a moment of very animated eye contact, the kind of wordless back-and-forth that she'd dreamt of developing with Juan Mateo but that they never quite managed. Just another little detail that ultimately spelled the end of their marriage. "Actually, why don't your ride with us?" 

"I, um-" Diana instinctively reached to adjust the wire she'd been wearing for most of the day (to get used to the feeling and not inadvertently betray herself later), only catching herself in the last moment and fidgeting with the collar on her blouse instead. "I- Felipe was supposed to drive me. I need to get ready still, too." 

"Eh, he can tag along. What are you wearing? Do you have your dress here?" She did. There was no arguing with Christina, but no malice in her overbearing imperiousness either. Nonetheless, Diana tried to argue, if only for politeness' sake. How she wouldn't want to impose. That it wasn't a problem, since Miguel Rodríguez had very kindly arranged for her transportation in the form of the afore-mentioned Felipe. Mrs Jurado waved it all off. And perhaps the obvious annoyance in Franklin Jurado's eyes gave her a little push. Say what one might about the Rodríguez brothers, but at least neither of them had ever questioned her professional expertise. 

Before she knows what hit her, the three of them are sailing out of the building and towards the cars parked out front. Well, Christina is sailing, while Franklin and Diana are trotting along behind her and shooting each other sour looks. It's the kind of wrathful indignation that she hadn't felt since second grade, when Bruno Moreno had pulled her pigtails and stolen her pencil. Christina seemed unperturbed, ordering the drivers around in her accented but surprisingly decent Spanish. Felipe caught Diana's eye, wringing his hands and questions in his eye. 

"It seems I will be riding with Mr and Mrs Jurado. Perhaps you'd be kind enough to follow us to their hotel and then take my work clothes back to the office after I've changed? I'd hate to have to lug around my stuff or leave it lying around somewhere. You'd be a great help this way, and as far as I'm concerned, you can go straight home after that." 

"Of course, ma'am." He nodded, seeming relieved by the clear instructions. Diana smiled and handed off her garment bag to the Jurados' driver. 

The drive itself could have been more awkward, what with being caged in the back of this limousine with two strangers, one of whom all but openly despised her and spent his time pouting after his wife had told him in no uncertain terms that if a single word of work talk left his lips she'd shove him out the door and into oncoming traffic. Luckily she also had made it her personal mission to pack half an evening's worth of small talk into the barely twenty-minute-ride. 

The Jurados' suite was grand, the lounge alone bigger than the house Diana had grown up in. She was still trying not to show how out of place she felt among all the marble and gilded edges when Christina steered her towards the back, still prattling on in a way that the DEA would have a lot of fun picking through when they got the recording from her wire. 

"Ugh, this place is so... Sorry, we wanted the president's suite, but one of the North Valley people snatched it up. Their... Who is he, Franklin? That unpleasant little man - is he the leader of the pack? With the young woman we saw when we checked in. Was that his wife?" 

"Salazar." Franklin muttered, his face curdling into a deeper frown. At least Diana wasn't at the top of his most hated list, apparently. "Yeah, I think so honey." 

"She looked awfully young." 

"I'm sure we'll meet them all at the party." 

"Something to look forward to." Christina grimaced and pulled Diana into the spacious bathroom, settling her down in front of a gigantic vanity mirror. 

"Alright, what are we doing with you?" Diana looked at her own wide-eyed reflection staring back at her while Christina started pulling her hair free from the simple clip she'd used to hold it up. 

"I, uh-" Diana pushed her glasses back up her nose and frowned. "I have contact lenses." She gestured vaguely towards her reflection. She had also packed a small bag with the handful of make-up items she owned, but lack of practice didn't exactly serve to make her adept at using them. Christina grinned excitedly, her whitened teeth shining. "Well no, that won't do! Hang on." 

She sprung up and rushed towards the door, only stopping when she reached her husband who had lingered there, leaning against the frame.  

"Hey you." For a moment, they softened, stealing a small kiss amid halted momentum. Diana ached to witness it. "Hey yourself." 

"Go get changed." Christina smiled, kissing his cheek as she brushed past to dive into her suitcase. 

"You're telling me? Don't take too long, we're on a schedule here." The words were softened by his tender expression, and as she walked past on her way back he reeled her in for another, deeper kiss. Diana pretended to be very invested in not poking her eyeballs out. Well, half-pretended. Putting in contact lenses was another thing she wasn't exactly used to. When she'd finally managed to fumble the second lens onto her eyeball, Franklin had long left and closed the door. 

Without further ado, Christina set to work. Within moments, the marble counter was covered with various cosmetics and the other woman's eager hands set to work. Diana had no choice but to submit. Thankfully again, it was Christina who shouldered the bulk of the conversation. 

"So, I did notice you're not wearing a wedding band, Mrs Galindo." Diana's eyes were closed, as her eyeshadow was currently being blended, but she did stiffen and instinctively her other hand went to touch where her ring had been. "Oh damn, I hope that wasn't- He's not tragically deceased, is he?" 

"No, we're...separated. Divorcing. It's... it's dragging on, to be honest. I've learned more about Colombian marriage law in the past year than I ever wanted to know." She tried to diffuse with a joke, but it didn't quite land. 

"Sorry, you must think me so rude. We only just met and here I am acting like we're friends!" She bit out in a jarring departure from her hitherto genial tone. "Anyway, I admire you. That can't have been easy what with how...uh-"

"...Catholic this country is?" Diana supplied, clasping the other woman's hands in hers with a slight smile. Christina huffed in relief. "Yes, I suppose. It's just... it's so hard. Marriage I mean. Sometimes I don't even know how to bear it." Her gaze fell towards the bathroom door that Franklin had closed behind himself upon leaving. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she continued. "How did you even know you couldn't go on like this?" 

Diana gulped, hating what she was about to do. Resenting, for a moment, women like Gabriela who only had to sell a bit of their time and acess to their bodies to these people. She felt like she was selling away her soul every single day. 

"Mrs Jurado-"

"Christina. Please, you can call me Christina."

"Christina, let me be honest. I never truly loved my husband, and he didn't love me. We liked each other and it was convenient, and expected, to get married. And in the end that proved to not be enough. But from what little I have seen, that's not something you and your husband have to contend with. Even if things are hard, as long as there is love you can overcome them. You have to believe in that." 

Christina choked out a tearful little laugh, like in spite of herself. 

"Oh God, good thing I haven't put on mascara yet. You're making me all dewy-eyed." She chuckled, then threw her arms around Diana and gave her a tight squeeze. "Thank you. Really." 

"Of course," Diana awkwardly patted the other woman's back, thankful that she wasn't currently facing the mirror, "and I would be happy to become your friend." Whatever ice had remained between the two women was broken after that. Christina perked up and returned to chatting animatedly, finishing her make-up, doing up her hair in a very elegant twisted bun, and gushing over her dress.

"Do you have any jewelry to go with it?"

"Not really, no. I only ever wear this." Diana indicated the thin silver chain around her neck. Christina tutted. 

"Well, that just won't do. Wait, let me just-" An impatient knock at the door interrupted her. "Oh dear, looks like we're running late."

Diana saw a chance to get a moment alone and suggested they each get dressed quickly, and separately, lest they waste any more time and husbandly nerves with their chatter. 

"Okay, but holler if you need help with the zipper or anything." 

Diana had never squeezed into a garment faster, glad that she had chosen to put on the wire device that morning already. She tugged the actual wire tight around her body where it had loosened over the course of the day, then shimmied into the underdress she'd brought in the hopes that it would conceal any suspicious bumps or lines. She had almost wrestled the zipper into its final position when Christina knocked and entered, quickly getting the last inch or so with a comment of how husbands were useful for some things. 

"Anyway, I thought these would suit you." Christina presented an opened velvet case. Sitting inside it was a jewelry set, sapphires with diamonds set in gold. Real ones, judging by the Cartier labelling embossed into the velvet. A necklace, earrings, bracelet and ring, all fancier and more ostentacious than anything Diana had ever set eyes on. Immediately, her palms started sweating. 

"Oh, I couldn't possibly-" 

"Nonsense." Christina cut her off, placing the case down and snatching the bracelet and Diana's wrist. "You'll look so pretty and expensive. You can return them to me later, we'll be in town until Tuesday." Having clasped the bracelet around her wrist, she now moved on to the earrings. "Maybe we could get coffee on the weekend or something." 

"I'd like that." Diana lied. Christina smiled at her brightly. "Great! I just need to ...uh, freshen up a moment." Taking the hint, Diana gathered up her things and stepped outside, awkwardly holding her bag of of work clothes to give to Felipe down in the hotel lobby. Franklin was standing by a sideboard, boredly rifling through a magazine. 

"Mrs Galindo." He acknowledged. For a split second, he looked like he wanted to add something, but caught himself. Diana followed his gaze towards the closed bathroom door, behind which low noises of shuffling and splashing water could be heard. 

"How long have you two been married?" She had no idea how this information might help the investigation, but determined that wasn't for her to worry about. Franklin sighed, gaze still fixed on the door and absent. 

"Seven years now." He finally tore his eyes away from the door and let them flit over her briefly, catching on the borrowed jewels but electing not to comment on it. "They say the seventh year is the hardest, don't they?" 

"I wouldn't know. I never made it that far." Though if Juan Mateo didn't pull his head out of his ass soon she would spend the seventh year still technically married. The thought made her frown. 

Before either of them had to search for more overburdened smalltalk, the bathroom door blessedly clicked open and Christina emerged with a wide grin and a spring to her step, her eyes just a smidgeon glassy and too bright. Diana politely pretended not to see the remnants of fine white powder that Franklin surreptitiously wiped from her nose and upper lip. --- They arrived not exactly on time but not fashionably late either. There's a line of cars already plugging up the driveway to the sprawling estate, stringed lights illuminating against the darkening sky. They got out and sauntered towards the two-storey villa, the Jurados up front and Diana trailing behind like the kid that's finally allowed to come along to the fancy family outings. Her dress hadn't felt this tight in the store, or at any point afterwards, until just now. 

"Franklin! I'm so glad you're finally here! Mrs Jurado, it's a pleasure." Diana can only just contain the flinch at the sound of this voice, and before long Miguel Rodríguez turns to her with one of his bright, self-satisfied smiles. "Mrs Galindo, I'm so glad you could come. We need to introduce you to the rest of the guys! It's been too long!" 

He has his arm around her shoulders within the same breath, exuberant and steering her through the scattered throngs of people at a pace that doesn't even allow for snatching a champagne flute from one of the waiters floating around. She plastered on a fake demure smile. The 'invitation' hadn't exactly been a matter of mere suggestion. 

Miguel led them to a dainty pagoda that sat a comfortable distance from the pool and most of the din and chatter of the other guests, nestled between the luscious greenery of the large garden. Diana could hear the mumbled whispers of the Jurados behind her, Miguel's droning on of meaningless small talk that she barely paid attention to. She could see Gilberto's back, his stature dwarfed almost comically by that of a much larger and broader man sat to his side, with short silver hair that gleamed in the low light. 

"Gentlemen, I believe we are complete!" Miguel boomed, ushering her up the few steps and into the circle. 

"Mrs Galindo, what a pleasure!" Gilberto shot up and made a show of shaking her hand and pulling her close to present her to the rest of the ...associates. 

"Now I believe you've not yet met these fine gentlemen. Pacho Herrera, Diana Galindo." Pacho stood and took her hand gingerly, his face impassive and tone painstakingly polite and neutral. "My pleasure."

"Mr Herrera." Diana replied, heart thumping up into her throat. They'd not so much met as passed each other in front of offices or meeting rooms a handful of times, his tightly coiled, jaguar-like energy always seeming just a smidge out of place in those blandly corporate spaces. 

"And here's Chepe, came all the way down from New York especially!" The large man with the silver hair stood to his full impressive height, snatching her hand with a wolfish grin and dropping a just-too-moist kiss on the back of it with a wink. Diana did her utmost not to flinch. For just a moment, she regretted the moment she'd taken off her ring and put it in front of a shocked Juan Mateo on their kitchen table before leaving their shared apartment. It was moments like these that she missed the protection it had afforded her from some unwanted advances. 

Pallomari was last, balding and skittish, with huge owl-eye glasses not unlike the first pair she'd ever had. 

"Mrs Galindo, how interesting to finally put a face to the name." He greeted, sounding painfully rehearsed. Diana returned with some meaningless pleasantry, hyper-aware of the wiretap device against her skin. She wondered whether it even picked up anything apart from the thundering of her heart. 

"So, about your big announcement-" Miguel began once everyone was settled into a seat with a drink in hand. Gilberto cut him off almost immediately.

"Now, now brother, let's enjoy the party a bit beforehand." A look passed between them, a challenge issued and accepted, until Miguel turned his gaze away with a barely concealed snarl. Gilberto leaned back in his seat, glass raised with a smug and triumphant smirk. "Let's just say that I have made an important investment into our future. We will continue to thrive, but more importantly, we will be safe. Our families will be safe." 

With that cryptic remark, he threw back his drink, expression melting from jovial to grim. The ensuing silence made the hair on the back of Diana's neck stand up, a feat she wouldn't have thought possible with the amount of hairspray Christina had encased her head in. 

"He's dead, Pablo's dead." Miguel reached over where she was squished between the two men, squeezing his brother's arm in reassurance. "He's gone and we helped bring him down." 

"We did. This country should build us monuments, instead they issue arrest warrants!" Gilberto bit out, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. 

"To Pablo Escobar, may he forever rot in hell!" Chepe bellowed, glass raised high. They all joined in. Diana thought of her father. How he'd done her hair and walked her to school every morning and tucked her in with a new story every night when she was a girl. How, during her first year of university when she'd been so lonely and homesick she broke down crying, he'd taken precious time off work and taken a night bus to come visit her in Bogotá for a weekend. How her heart still split down the middle whenever she so much as thought of the crash that killed him. But the gentlemen didn't need to know that she despised them just as much as she did Escobar, not yet anyway. So, she raised her champagne alongside and joined her voice in the chorus of gleeful condemnation. - She'd just escaped Christina and the gaggle of wives for a moment, excusing herself to the restrooms. What the DEA might glean from their inane chatter, she couldn't possibly fathom. She was glad that she was free of them for a moment, and that disecting the recording wasn't her problem to deal with. On her way into the house, she must have passed by at least two dozen important and powerful people. There were a few handfuls of representatives, a number of mayors, at least two senators, an attorney general and an army general. No one she'd ever voted for, at least. And those were just the ones she'd managed to get Miguel to introduce to her, or her to them - either way, she'd made sure to repeat every name as clearly as possible for the recording. 

Rounding the last corner in from the veranda, she all but ran into Salcedo. 

"Mrs Galindo." His tone was clipped as ever. She wasn't sure whether he might be suspicious of her in particular, or whether it was a general thing and he was just like that. 

"Mr Salcedo." She nodded, tone painstakingly polite. He set her teeth on edge, always so stiff-backed with that serpent edge to him; in a ranking of people within the cartel who had this effect on her he would probably come in about third. She wondered what Javier- what Agent Peña would make of the man. "What brings you here, Mrs Galindo?" Or perhaps he just didn't like her for some reason. Which was very much a mutual sentiment. Not that she held particular sympathies for anyone here. 

"To the restroom?" *Take a wild guess, buddy*, she thought, one eyebrow arching with clear condescension. 

"To the...house." 

"The restroom." She resisted rolling her eyes. As much as she may personally dislike Miguel's chief of security, purposely antagonizing him was probably a bad idea. And yet, petty temptation beckoned in every nook and cranny. Like the sideboard they were currently standing in front of that displayed a solid bronze statue of a very rotund dancing couple. "To marvel at the Botero, naturally." 

Salcedo's eyes followed her nod towards the heavy bronze. "It's genuine, you know." He said it not in the tone of an art aficionado, but rather in the crudely suggestive one of a third-rate telenovela detective trying to be slick by not outright asking if she meant to steal it. 

"Of course, Mr Rodríguez wouldn't stand for anything less." The thing was half her size and probably twice as heavy, what was he thinking? Himself a master at subtle insinuation, probably. Or that being poor and growing up in the comunas naturally meant she had sticky fingers. Uptight, hoity-toity middle class prick. Like his employers weren't internationally wanted criminals of the highest degree. The audacity of it!  

His mouth was already halfway open to retort when his name being yelled from outside made both of them turn. David Rodríguez hung onto the veranda door, snapping at Salcedo that his father wanted him for something, and pronto. Diana could practically hear his teeth grind in irritation, but he schooled his face into a carefully blank facade before he gave David a nod. 

"Ma'am." Salcedo gave in and moved, squeezing by David. David purposefully did not budge, instead giving her a leery once-over before following after the other man. 

Diana fled into the bathroom down the hall in a manner she hoped looked urgent rather than as panicked as she felt inside. She held it together until the lock slid closed, and then she was crouched on the floor, curled up and heavy breathing into her hands. The small pressure point of the wire recorder thingy felt like a ton weight against her chest and her heart was beating so fast she could feel it everywhere. 

Hyperventilating. You're hyperventilating, her brain supplied unhelpfully, and she almost laughed at herself. She wished she wasn't here all on her own, wished she had at least one of those spy devices in her ear for some moral support, tried to recall the exact feeling of Agent Peña's hands on her shoulders, warm and grounding. One hand remained up, muffling the desperate breaths and whimpers from her mouth, while the other dropped, thumb dipping underneath the fabric at her chest to brush soothingly across her collarbone. It worked...to a degree. A very small degree. What she would give to at least have the deep, comforting rumble of his voice, or the way he'd held her close after the festival. Did he even know how calming his presence was? It always seemed to work on her, in wrath and anxiety both (something that Juan Mateo had never been able to affect unless it was to irritate her more). So much so that now even just focusing on it was enough to help her pull herself together. 

The guest restroom was bigger than her childhood room had been and, of course, looked more like it belonged in some fancy hotel. All warm-toned marble and matte gold appliances. The mirror was huge and its frame, naturally, also gold. What was it with rich people's obsession with gold? 

"Okay." Diana said to her reflection, then went to work freshening up. Carefully, she wiped away the smudged mascara under her eyes and reapplied her lipstick where it had come off on her drink earlier. She stuck her hands underneath her dress to check on the recording device, concerned that a wire had shaken loose or something, but the small rectangular container still sat right snug right against her sternum. She gave it an absent tap and adjusted the microphone bit so it sat just below the seam of her collar again. 

"I hope you'll get something worthwhile from this because I am never doing this again." A knock on the door nearly sent her into cardiac arrest. Diana swore under her breath, then called out that she'd only be a moment. 

"Sorry," an apologetic female voice came from the other side of the door, "You've been in there a while, is all. Are you alright? I have an aspirin in my purse if you need it." 

Diana stopped dabbing at her still damp eyes and tried to determine whether her near panic attack was the sole reason her vision was still a bit hazy. She could count the times she'd been out without her glasses on one hand. 

"Oh no it's just-," she crossed over and unlocked the door to find a young, very pretty and very concerned looking woman on the other side, "I just had some trouble with my contact lenses. They're awfully fiddly." She stepped back and opened the door wider. "All yours." 

"Oh I don't-" She looked down the hallway, further into the house, her eyes widening slightly when she caught sight of something or someone outside of Diana's field of vision. "Actually, I think I need to...uh, powder my nose or something." 

The door fell into its lock the same moment the younger woman had stepped into the room, not giving Diana a chance to leave. Not that she was over-eager to get back outside and mingle with the corrupt and criminal. That and the discomfort and anxiety hung around the other woman like a cloud. Diana made up her mind, sitting down on one of the plush benches in the room. 

"I'm not a big fan of parties either." She stated, voice careful and soft. The other woman stood, unsure and tugging at the short hem of her dress. 

"I wish they could just open the buffet already. My husband is three drinks in and he gets-" She trembled. No, shuddered. Diana patted the space beside her on the bench, a gentle invitation. 

"It's alright, we can stay here for a little bit. I'm Diana." 

"Maria." She stuck out her hand, which was also still trembling slightly. "Maria Salazar." --- By the time the two of them dared venture outside again, there was indeed, finally!, food to be had. Diana pulled Maria along to the relative safety of the gaggle of wives, busy amusing themselves while their husbands dealt with their important business matters. But then, the bandleader announced that the dancefloor was now officially open and started off with a spirited selection of the finest Colombian rhythms of the past twenty years. One by one the wives were collected to fill said dancefloor, leaving Diana sitting alone at the table with the sad remnants of various canapees and salads. Here was another occasion where she didn't miss Juan Mateo. Or his two left feet. Idly, she turned the near-empty cocktail glass between her fingers and wondered whether Javier danced, or could at least be persuaded to try. 

"You don't dance?" David appeared so suddenly that she almost spilled the last bit of her drink. She remembered his leering earlier, forced her face not to flinch until she had raised the glass and could hide her  expression of distaste behind a sip of the overly sweet and fruity cocktail. Hummed non-committally and hoping against hope that he'd grow bored and leave. Of course, she had no such luck. 

"Oh, whom with? Everyone's paired up already." Sip again. The glass had another three or four in it, if she stretched it smartly enough. "I'm afraid third-wheeling is the unenviable fate of divorcees." How old was this boy anyway? She must have ten years on him, at the very least. But apparently he'd got it into his head that he must prove to himself what a man he was, and how irresistible. At least he had the good sense not to try anything with the wives of any of the powerful men present. 

"Dance with me." David stated. Ah, bingo. He might have at least pretended to ask, she thought sourly. "I insist." 

Of course you do, you entitled brat. "It would be my pleasure." She lies, as most politeness is lies, here in these circles comprised of snakes. Fakes a smile the way she's been taught to by this world, so easy to act and conceal the disdain underneath. It doesn't falter even when his hand, clammy and slightly sweaty, settles way too low for comfort or propriety on her hip. She resolves to step on his feet - accidentally - at least twice. 

David Rodríguez was not what one would call a skilled dancer. At first, Diana had been thankful that the band wasn't playing any slow songs yet, but it had taken approximately half of 'Bamboleo' to dispel the hope that this would keep David's hands from wandering. Well, if she was stuck here she might as well try to get some intel out of him. 

...It takes about two and a half songs - the band now switching to their international collection - to determine that this route of inquiry is absolutely doomed and David completely useless. Doesn't know any business particulars, and doesn't care to. Too distracted with trying to put some moves on her, which she steadfastly ignores. Well, if details of her failed marriage and dragging divorce aren't enough to discourage him, she's got another one up her sleeve. Not to mention she's been curious ever since the gaggle of wives had made their introductions earlier. 

"You're not married." She leaves the 'yet' unsaid, hanging in the air between them as heavy insinuation. 

"If I were, would I be dancing with you?" A faithful husband, and in these circles at that? What a novel idea. Diana almost snorted out loud. Left it at a telling look that seemed to go over his head completely. Doesn't have the energy to dissect how a dance with a friend or acquaintance at a party isn't exactly on par with, say, the juridical definition of adultery. Which brings her mind back to the tedium of having to explain to various lawyers, notaries, judges that no, her husband wasn't a cheating pig who drank and beat her, and that there were a multitude of quieter reasons why marriages failed. 

"I have been wondering, though, where the third of the Mrs Rodríguezes belongs. Besides your mother and your aunt." She nodded over at the three women in question, one dancing with either Rodríguez brother, the third being currently twirled about by Chepe and looking a bit motion sick from it. 

"My mother is dead." Ah, shit. Diana faltered, and this time the graze of her heel on his shoe really was entirely accidental. Something in David's eyes shuttered and hardened, gaze for once lifting from her body and darkly fixing on his father. "They're all my uncle's wives." 

"Oh. Oh!" Diana's mouth falls open. Of all things she could have expected, this was certainly not one. "That's um... That sounds, uh..." Illegal, but then again, what did a bit of consensual polygamy matter in the grand scheme of things, she supposed. 

"You sound so scandalized. Didn't think he had it in him, didn't you?" David smirked, tightening his grip on her back again and leading her in a turn. 

"No, I'm just...wondering...about the, um...time management...aspect." In fairness, that was one of the things she did wonder about. David laughed, bringing her in closer. 

"Each gets two days per week and Sundays he has them come all together and sit there while he watches sports." 

How thrilling. "Whatever works for them, I suppose." 

Diana tried to subtly twist away again. She wasn't going to get anything else from this, what with David already being bored and growing increasingly impatient. And she didn't have an escape plan that didn't consist of ramming her heel into him somewhere until she struck bone. 

"Damn, can't they play something from this decade?" He whined as 'Money, money, money' faded into 'Knowing me, knowing you'. "All of this ancient stuff-" Sensing another chance to subtly nudge him away from his inexplicable sudden attraction, Diana jumped. "Oh I quite like it," she remarked lightly. Now go in for the kill "Reminds me of my youth." 

David harrumphed, then grunted as her heel dug into his toes again. "Oh dear, so sorry." Diana said breezily,  forcing his hand up from where it had been creeping towards her ass with a deft twirl. 

"It's fine." He gritted. "Did you want to-" 

"Allow me to cut in." Herrera stepped up, lightly shoving David aside to take his place. "I've not had the pleasure yet, Mrs Galindo." Diana forced a smile as his hand settled at her waist. Pro: at least this one wouldn't spend the whole time trying to feel her up. Con: not being thus distracted, he might notice...something. And become suspicious. If he wasn't already. Truth be told, Herrera scared her almost as much as Navegante did. Sometimes more so. 

"Right, well this is a very tight dress, so I can't do any adventurous moves." She warned, plastering an apologetic expression onto her face. Thankfully the band had changed to a faster track, though they kept with the international flair of the selection. Next up was some Brazil, if she wasn't mistaken. David stood between the twirling couples for a long moment, glaring but not daring to do or say anything that might affront his father's business partner. She shot him a fake apologetic smile, but suspected it was more the insistent raised eyebrow from Herrera that ultimately got him to scurry. 

Pacho Herrera could dance, that much was undeniable. Under different circumstances she might have even enjoyed this. He was also unnervingly quiet. If the purpose of this was to unsettle her, his tactic was very successful. At this rate, just keeping her feet under her proved to be challenge enough. One could think the band had launched into a Tarantella, given the speed they were going. Her head swam from the quick succession of turns and twirls, and when he dipped her upon the song's grand climax, her heart stopped for a variety of reasons. One of them being that she thought she felt some of her concealed wiring dislodge. 

"I think your dress is not too tight after all, Mrs Galindo." He pulled back up and righted her again, blessedly stilling a moment while the band segued into a mellower number. Diana gulped in a few deep, unladylike breaths. 

"No trust me, it is." She was still catching her breath; meanwhile he didn't even have a single hair out of place. Unfair. "So," Diana began her feeble attempt to bring the situation back under some semblance of control, "Are you interested in... tax exemptions?" Apparently humans could wheeze and cringe simultaneously. Very interesting. Herrera didn't answer immediately, just started leading her back into a mellow sway. 

"I think you're interested enough for all of us, Mrs Galindo. Miguel showed us the figures earlier. Very impressive. I see why DIAN recruited you right out of university." How he made what was ostensibly a compliment sound like a threat, Diana didn't know, just that it did nothing for her heart rate. 

"Thank you." He spun her out along with a flourish from the brass section, turning her already shaky voice into a squeak. She really hoped the recording had not picked that up. After the spin, his hand slid up over  her back, before settling back on her waist. To her horror, something in Pacho's expression twisted and he pulled her closer, hand splaying over her mid-back again. So much for avoiding being fondled for one dance. 

"What's this?" 

"Oh, I don't want to bore you with the details of women's undergarments. Suffice to say I'm wearing an insane amount of Spanx right now." 

There was a prolonged moment, during which Diana tried to keep her cool while deciding how much of a scene she was willing to cause should he not let it rest. Normally none at all, then again it was her life on the line. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr Rodríguez requests you make your way to the equestrian ring for the big announcement." 

Never in her life had Diana welcomed an interruption like at this very moment. Herrera hesitated for a split second, expression still unreadable, before joining the throngs of people set in motion. He grasped her hand firmly, looping it through his elbow until it rested on his forearm, where he pinned it with his other hand. Just unconspicuous enough to look polite to any onlooker, just forceful enough that she knew she couldn't free herself without obvious struggle. 

"He could have done this up on the other stage." Miguel grumbled when they reached him, standing off the side to the stage that had been set up in the area. 

"You know how he is, Miguel. Always has to have his way." The two men exchanged a glance around her while more people filed past. 

"Mrs Galindo." 

Diana hummed in acknowledgement, returned the meaningless pleasantries. Yes of course she was enjoying herself. What a lovely party. The music? Exhilarating. The buffet? Exquisite. Her divorce? Ugh. She would really prefer not to think about that right now, thank you very much. 

"It's next Thursday, right? Your court appointment?" 

"Yes, thank you for letting me combine this with a work trip to Barranquilla. It's my personal business after all." 

"Of course, we want you at your best. Undistracted. Unburdened." Diana almost laughed, barely managed to suppress the snort and cover it with clearing her throat. 

"I thought that had all gone through ages ago." Herrera remarked lightly, grip finally easing up some from her wrist. Diana sighed. 

"I'm divorced, as far as I'm concerned. I moved out, signed my papers. I don't know what he thinks he's doing. I'm not going back to him. This obstinate little tantrum isn't helping his case anyway." Countless hours spent arguing with various legal professionals flashed before her eyes. "It's a very tedious process."

"It's a very catholic country." Pacho said, somewhere between wistful and embittered. She used his momentary distraction to pull her arm free. 

"That's true." 

Up on the stage, Gilberto was fiddling with a microphone and waiting for the last few stragglers to come and fill up the equestrian ring so he could begin. Again, the two men exhanged a telling glance around her. 

"You gonna go up there with him?" Pacho said lowly, hands now crossing behind his back. Miguel shook his head. 

"You go. I'll stay here. Better view." 

Diana stayed demonstratively rooted to the spot when Herrera started moving. He shot her a look, which she pretended not to notice in favor of striking up more mindless small talk with Miguel. Apparently Herrera decided that it wasn't worth making a big deal out of, choosing instead to let her be and weave through the audience until he reached the bottom of the stage, exchanging a greeting with Santacruz and glowering over the assembled crooks and accomplices. 

Gilberto's speech was... full of pathos and grandstanding, and too many high-minded terms for such a petty crook, she thought. When did the delusions or grandeur usually start appearing, she wondered. Was it with the first million? The first billion? But it's the core of the announcement that makes her gasp and sets the wheels in her mind into overdrive, the implications just mounting up. She spares a quick glance at Herrera at the foot of the stage, his face too demonstratively blank save for furrowed brows. Miguel beside her is more expressive, but quick to reign his face back in. Among the surprised gasps and whispers all around it tells her enough. Briefly, she thought of making a comment to Miguel, but his jaw is set so tight she can hear the grinding of teeth and she doesn't have anything productive or intelligent to say anyway, so she lets it be. Swallows the bile that rises up in her throat as Gilberto proclaims 'For our children! And for our children's children!', and tries not to roll her eyes. Or gouge his out, for the sheer gall of it. Because here she stands, approaching thirty-five and still deathly afraid to bring a baby into a world they have made so violent, so toxic, so dangerous. Meanwhile Salome is without her parents, both murdered by this unending war. Meanwhile a David Rodríguez flounces around as some sort of better henchman, he and his cousins all cushy and carefree thanks to daddy's blood money. It churns the stomach with rage. 

"Mrs Galindo! Just the woman I've been looking for!" 

The crowd parts for him, less so out of reverence and more because people are slowly drifting away, gossip already flying about, Diana is pleased to note. 

"Mr Rodríguez, what an...impactful speech." She said demurely, keeping all her sneering tucked safely away behind the mask of officiousness. 

"It's the coup of the century!" She catches Miguel's scoff just in the corner of her eye. "It also means transferring our assets into the...ah, ...legitimate sphere, if you will." He's got his arm around her shoulders again, leading her back towards the dancefloor, the buffet and tables, the house. By chance and his smaller stature, he's speaking almost directly into the shoulder with the hidden microphone attached, detailing all the financial acrobatics he wants her to perform to save all their assets from both law- and taxman. There she went again, trading complicity for access. --- Just over an hour on and the gender ratio has left Diana sitting squished between Herrera and the youngest of the Mrs Rodríguezes, but at least he seems to have taken his measure of her. And swallowed her undergarment excuse. Swallowed...undergarments. She snorted semi-loudly into the cocktail she'd been nursing this whole time, the ice in it all but dissolved. Dammit, here eyes were getting heavier by the minute and it wasn't even that late, barely midnight. Then again she had been up since five and alcohol, even though she hadn't had all that much, always made her sleepy. And the guests had started trickling away, leaving behind a scene of mild devastation. 

"I think Mrs Galindo needs to go home." It was Franklin Jurado speaking, Christina's head buffered on his shoulder as she slept. Diana had just enough self-control left to not tell him to fuck off. Or maybe she really is too tired to; doesn't even have it in her to get annoyed at Gilberto's patronizing tone as he agrees. 

"Yes, why don't you drive Mrs Galindo home?" 

She hums more in acknowledgement than agreement to Hererra's suggestion, tired eyes hazily following his line of sight to the man stepping forward from the shadows at being summoned. His gaudy shirt reminds her of one Juan Mateo had worn on their honeymoon and which she had hated half because it had been a gift from her horrible mother-in-law, and half because it was the most hideous thing she had ever seen. And then realization hits and her blood runs ice-cold and alertness slams back into her consciousness like a bullet. 

"Mr Velasquez." her voice is so weak and brittle, she thinks it must give her away if nothing else did so far. She took one last sip to wet her dry mouth, and because frankly she needs the alcohol now more than ever. The suggestion to call a taxi died on her lips as she realized that there was truly no way out of this. So, she steels herself and stands on sore feet, bidding the bosses of Calí and their dependents a good night. "I would be much obliged, Mr Velasquez." 

Navegante approximated a smile and stalked ahead. --- Well, there goes his progress. He'd been down to three smokes a day, four on a bad day, due in part to an iron adherence to some hard and fast self-imposed rules, such as no smoking in his office (or, in fact, no smoking inside the building at all). Tonight, however, is the night of the Calí godfathers' big announcement party, and Javier had not moved from his office for longer than a quick bathroom break or coffee run. He had also gone through half a pack of cigarettes in the last two hours, and his stomach was beginning to feel queasy the longer he spent glancing at the phone on the edge of his desk from the corner of his eye as he pretended to make his way through the mountain of paperwork that somehow never seemed to get any smaller. The fact that he'd woken that morning with the memory of Diana Turbay's lifeless body crumpled in that cupboard certainly hadn't helped. 

He last looked at a clock around half past nine, when a very insistent cleaning lady had shooed him out of his office and he'd spent around ten anxious minutes hovering by the door in case the phone rang. It hadn't, and now here he was, eyes burning and brain mushy with his heartbeat a steady pulsing behind his temples. And he wondered– 

Javier swiped up the phone before the first ring had even finished. "Miss Rivas!" 

"I'm fine." She didn't sound fine. She sounded on edge. Rattled. Like she was trying to reassure herself. He gripped the phone receiver tighter. 

"Where are you?" What was he gonna do? Drive all the way to Calí from Bogotá at half an hour past midnight? Even a flight would take hours, and raise suspisions to boot. 

"I said I'm fine," she replied, nails clacking rhythmically against the plastic phone casing in what he knew by now to be a nervous tick. "I'm safe. I'm home." 

Javier breathed a relieved sigh, rigid shoulders slumping a fraction. He supposed he could have ordered Duffy or Lopez to do something if push had come to shove, though what he honestly had no idea. 

"Good, that's good." 

"Mr Velasquez gave me a lift." 

Who the hell was that? "Who the hell is that?" Javier asked. 

"You probably know him as Navegante." Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Mentally he's already halfway out the door, physically at least halfway out of the office until the phone wire makes known its spatial limitations. 

"You alright? Is he still there? Lock your door, double lock it, I-" 

"I didn't give him the exact address, please calm down." He does, but only enough to catch his breath and not bolt out the door. There's a rustling from her end of the line, and she makes a sort of breathless little sound, somehwere between a sigh and a grunt, followed by a low but vicious curse.

"You okay?" 

"It's the damn zipper again; I'm this close to pulling something. Hang on." Judging by the thud that reverberates she set the phone down on a counter or table. Javier's hand went to rub at the back of his neck, half reflex, half sympathy. "Let's focus on the real issue here. The announcement." 

The way she said it was urgent, but he chose to believe this was due to wanting to get the message out and not to any concerns of Navegante lurking nearby. He had to, for his own sanity. 

"Apparently Gilberto cut a deal with the government." 

"The government?" Javier echoed weakly. 

"The new Samper administration. I knew why I didn't vote for those clowns. No, that's ...I had many reasons for that actually, first and foremost of them being that the Liberal Party nowadays is a damn joke. And to think that this is the same party that my parents fought for in their youth! Anyway, enough of that. They get half a year to get their house in order, then turn themselves in on the smallest possible charges, minimal jail time, back out again after a few years and back into their cushy lives with all of their blood money laundered neatly away. A clean slate." He'd never heard her sound so bitter, and he'd heard a good deal of her opinions on the Gentlemen of Calí over the past year. 

"So they're just going to get away with it." Javier grit out, equally livid. "Wait, you said Gilberto cut the deal? What about the others?" 

"Yes, so here is where it gets interesting. I didn't get the sense that they knew. Beforehand I mean. You should have outfitted me with a camera too, because Miguel's face was priceless." Another grunt and then a triumphant little 'ha' and then her voice sounded clearer again, nearer as she picked the phone back up. 

"He doesn't like it." 

"None of them like it. Don't want to give up the power, if I had to guess. What is it with men and building their entire ego on how much they can make others fear them?" 

Javier hummed non-committally, deciding that he had nothing valuable to add at this point. 

"Yeah, you're right. So how do I get the 'ooof' ...the recording to you? Usual way?" Javier didn't even get to reply no when she went on, now audibly shuffling around her apartment and out of the rest of her clothes. "I can't believe I almost forgot! I met the money launderer. His name is Franklin Jurado. He'll be in Calí until Tuesday with his wife Christina. I somewhat promised her to meet for coffee on Sunday; if you can have one of your agents trail me you can get them." 

She sounded so hopeful that he hated to have to dash it, even for her own safety, but snatching such an important cartel member so soon and with her so close would cast suspicion. She couldn't be involved. And he hadn't heard back from his agents yet, which was possibly a bad sign. Javier made up his mind, cringing while he glanced at the clock to make some mental calculations. 

"I'm coming over." 

"To Calí?" 

"Yes, what's your address? Unless you'd rather meet somewhere else?"

She gave her address, sounding stunned. He jotted it down under the note he'd made of Jurado's name; he'd need someone to look the guy up first thing tomorrow. 

"You're not leaving now, are you? It's late, you need to sleep." Javier could picture the way her brow creased in a frown just from the tone of her voice. 

"No, I'll call you again as soon as I know when I'll be there." Driving the whole way would be a nightmare and eat up most of the day. Javier whirled around and pulled an atlas from the shelf behind his desk. Flying in directly was out of the question with the way the godfathers had the whole city under surveillance. Buenaventura, under two hours by plane and then about two and a half from there to Calí. Yes, that would work. 

"Goodness, you're actually serious about this." 

"Of course." Javier stopped in his tracks for the first time in several minutes now, taking a moment to breathe and slump in his seat. He was exhausted yet wide awake, and likely would be for some time. "I mean, if that's okay with you." 

"Of course, umm...anything in particular you'd like for dinner?" Javier stopped. He would be staying for dinner, possibly the night, too. In a hotel of course, he couldn't possibly impose- 

"You don't have to cook for me." His mouth said, but his stomach said bandeja paisa. Briefly, the thought of taking her out for dinner popped up, indulgent and unbidden, and was immediately squashed by the thought of the godfathers' eyes everywhere. "I can pick something up on the way." 

Her protest turned into a yawn not two syllables in. Javier couldn't help the small smile appearing on his face, felt it only by how it twinged his tense jaw. "You're tired, you should rest." 

"We're not finished with this." She mumbled obstinately. "You rest." 

"I will." He would, eventually. "I'll call you tomor- ...today." A quick glance at the clock revealed it was now past midnight. She made a very grumpy, very adorable huffy sound, mumbling something about the inexorable passage of time. 

"Sleep well, Miss Rivas." 

"You too..." There was a rustle and the quiet squeak and groan of a bedframe and mattress. He waited a moment, unsure whether more was coming or whether she'd just been too tired to disconnect the call. A short silence burst into a quick curse, her voice remote but still clear enough to make out. "...God fucking dammit, fucking contact lenses! Son of a rabid-" 

"Miss Rivas?" By the rapid padding of feet and the continued cursing he had to suppose that she hadn't heard, and by how either sound seemed to be at about equal distance with neither decreasing, he supposed further that the phone was still in her hand. As soon as he heard the 'thunk' that most likely meant that the phone had been tossed down on some surface, he tried again. "Miss Rivas?" 

"You're still there?" She sounded marginally more awake now, but not like this state would persist for very long. 

"You didn't hang up." And perhaps Javier wasn't all too opposed to having the continued assurance that she was alright and her cover intact. "You swear very entertainingly, by the way." 

"I'm glad my lack of filter and ladylike decorum amuses rather than appalls you." Splashing water interrupted them for a moment, but was quickly replaced by more colorful cursing. 

"Please, don't hold back." Javier commented drily, not really expecting to be heard clearly since the satphone didn't have a loudspeaker. 

"Very funny. Why don't you talk to me a bit more while I try not to poke my eyes out by accident-" 

"I- ...I'm afraid I don't really have anything interesting to talk about." 

"And I don't have enough brain left today for anything more taxing than the weather anyway. I just need your voice; I'm dead on my feet. How was the weather in Bogotá today? I always found it so cold when I was at university there. Nothing like Medellín. They used to call me 'chompa' at uni because I would never go anywhere without one. Too cold. And of course Calí is so much warmer than either..." 

"It's been quite grey here, and not especially warm either. Back home it's at least twice as warm but I've been here so long now I think I'm more used to it." 

"I never asked where exactly you're from..." 

"Laredo, Texas. It's right on the border with Mexico." 

"Laredo..." She mused, puttering about still. "Oh like the song? As I walked walked out on the streets of Laredo..." She must really be tired and devoid of all usual inhibitions, Javier thought, to just start singing like this. Not that he minded. She got halfway through the first stanza until she faltered, the lyrics escaping her. Her voice was soft and with that same raspy edge she had when speaking. It was a voice suited best to lullabies he thought; or to yearnful ballads performed in smoky bars, or some similarly wistful thing. "Aren't I supposed to be the one talking?" 

"Hmm, this works too. I'm almost done, so you won't have to humor me much longer. So, tell me more about Laredo while I brush my teeth." --- He ended up talking longer than that - divulging more than he ever planned to as per usual, of the town and the ranch that sat up against the river - until she was settled back into bed and about to doze off for good. If nothing else, it settled him too somewhat, though sleep would elude him for a a good while yet even despite the physical and mental exhaustion the day, or in fact the whole week, had brought him. No sooner had he disconnected the line with a soft 'Sleep well' than the phone rang again. 

"Yes?" 

"Boss, I've been trying to reach you for half an hour!" Duffy's voice sounded strained and any modicum of relaxation Javier might have gained dissipated with immediate effect. He scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes and resigned himself to dealing with one more catastrophe. 

"Duffy, what is it?" Agents Duffy and Lopez had organized their own infiltration of the godfathers' party, courtesy of the intel provided by Miss Rivas as well as what Operation Cornerstone had shaken loose. At least he knew it was nothing that had blown the cover of his informant. 

"Okay well, no use beating around the bush here. Our guy got made, and Calí knows we're here-" Javier listened to his agent's report with his frown deepening. Why was it that with every step forward, another wrench was thrown his way? 

"Alright, close up shop. Leave as soon and as inconspicuously as you can. I'll see you back here at the embassy on Monday morning." He ordered. Hopefully the gentlemen and their security would leave it at the gesture of intimidation, especially if they thought themselves well on the way of becoming untouchable, but one could never be too careful. 

---

Javier consulted the clock for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. Normally the bar down the street from the embassy wouldn't be his first or even fourth choice, but tonight he was looking for a place to wind down with the shortest possible distance to cover afterwards. The danger of being accosted by any of his co-workers was one he'd simply have to brave. If luck was on his side for once, none of the more sociably inclined would be there any more, or too engrossed in their own merriment to notice him slink in, and if not, his curmudgeonly ways were known well enough that a civil yet decisive refusal would hopefully be deterrence enough. 

It was for Stoddard, but of course not for Bill Stechner, the non-drug-lord bane of Javier's existence. Ostensibly on the same side, though Javier would argue that the CIA was on its own side entirely. Or that their budget would be spent more productively by making the damn lot of them just feed dollar bills through a shredder, but no one asked Javier about these things. So, he sits and grinds his teeth while Stechner's smug voice grates on his nerves. Visualizes strangling the CIA station shief with the tie he'd just pulled off and balled up into his pocket moments ago, which does a little bit to alleviate the almost overbearing urge to smash Stechner's face into the bar top. "Oh come on, you don't care about American streets or dead Colombians." 

And the deal? How the hell does Stechner know about the deal when it's only just been announced? For a split-second, he wonders whether Diana- but no, he trusts her completely, and he hasn't told anyone except a handful of his agents about her, deciding this information was so sensitive it was strictly need to know, and even they only knew her by her assigned code name. Not even the ambassador knew that he had such a high-priority informant on the inside of the cartel. Stechner must have some government source, be it an informant of his own or bugs in the offices of ministers. The way he only mentions Lopez and Duffy's operation confirms it. 

"Same goal my ass." Javier muttered into his whiskey after Stechner slithered away. This had been supposed to be a one-drink-night, but now he was feeling like he might need at least three more, if only to dull the screeching of his swirling thoughts. 

It's no use. He's all keyed up still, something feels like it's burrowing inside of his chest, some sort of woodland critter both desperate and unable to settle down. He's tired, too, of course, eyes heavy and burning and sore, feels like his eyeballs are coated in smoke and pitched open by caffeine. He shouldn't have had that much coffee that late; despite his high tolerance it does still have an effect on him. Thank goodness on any given day, but right now he's regretting it. His leg jumps, knee knocking painfully against the bar front. He feels eyes on him. They've been there since he walked in, furtively glancing throughout his confrontation with Stechner, but bolder now. He feels it like a prickle on his skin. Turns his gaze finally. Sees long dark hair, open, melting into the late shadows of the bar. Too long, but it'll have to do. She's... he's definitely seen her around before. The elevator? Different department, perhaps press office, or visas. Definitely nowhere near the DEA offices or he would have known her name. She's coming over now, leaning easily against the bartop, slender fingers tapping, and an easy, eager smile. Her hair isn't dark enough, and too long and wavy all the way through instead of only curling at the ends, and nothing else about her appearance quite matches up, but she's pretty and willing and he's pent up and about to crawl out of his skin. And so he lets her take him home. And he means to leave right after, he really does. If only not to give any impression of this having even the slightest potential of becoming any more than it is. But Katie (that's her name, but he's learnt a long time ago to not groan out names during, because whether the name is correct or not it always turns out bad somehow), Katie sleepily mumbles that he can stay because it's late, and truth be told? He's completely shot, feels like he couldn't move if he wanted to. And the thought of dragging himself back to his empty apartment with only his thoughts for company is the most unbearable thing at this moment. Her mattress is too soft and despite the fact that he only laid on it until waking again at first light, it messes up his back for almost a week. --- It is indeed much warmer in this side of the country, and an especially hot day in Calí itself. On the coast where he'd landed, there had at least been a breeze blowing in from the Pacific, but the further inland Javier drives the less the air seems to move. He felt the sweat start to gather at his hairline, and down his neck, as soon as he parked the rental car in front of the cluster of new-ish high rise apartment blocks in one of the north-western boroughs of the city. 

Javier grabbed his one piece of luggage and the bag of takeout he'd picked up on the way, just as promised, and walked up to the first building to study the panel beside the door for the correct bell to ring. A sharp whistle made him look around, then up at the next building. Miss Rivas was all but hanging off the side of her balcony, waving down and giving Javier half a heart attack seeing as she was on the sixth floor. He waved back in acknowledgement, then jogged over to the already buzzing door, which he pushed open. Blessedly, there was an elevator, and not two minutes later he stood in front of her apartment, the door swinging open before he could raise his hand to knock. 

"Hi." She sounded breathless, as if she'd run up six flights of stairs, not across an apartment. 

"... Miss Rivas." In his relief, he'd almost slipped. Almost called her by her first name, but they're not there yet, strangely. Or not strangely at all, in fact. It's quite by design. It's a way of keeping himself detached; professional. Or whatever excuse he could come up with to maintain this state of perpetual denial. 

"Umm, ...lunch? I brought lunch." He thrust the bag foward, watched it swing between them while cringing inwardly. 

"Good! I've only been up for two hours or so; I don't even care what it is, I'm starving!" Carefully, she took the bag from him, one hand supporting the bottom like a newborn's head, the other brushing his as she looped her fingers through the handles. "Come in, come in." 

Javier stood a full three seconds or so after she'd already turned around and walked down the narrow hallway, rooted to the spot and struck dumb like some sort of imbecile. His skin prickled in all the places he'd let Katie touch him the night before, which, admittedly, hadn't been too many - but still enough to be burning him with that familiar mixture of guilt and shame now. So he does what he does best when it comes to emotions: deny and repress. 

He left his shoes beside the pair of strappy heels she must have discarded there the night before, probably in a hurry to get the severely uncomfortable looking things off after spending a whole evening in them. The hallway opened into an open living room and dining area, the balcony beyond that, and a galley-style kitchen off to one side not unlike his own apartment. It was a sparse place, not quite enough furniture to fill the space - a long couch and coffee table, a low sideboard with a TV on it, none of it new save for the stereo system that was of course on and softly playing the usual eclectic music mix. Javier dropped his bag beside the couch where it would be out of the way. The dining table barely deserved the name. It was a small, round, reedy looking thing, just large enough for two, or maybe two and a child, with two plastic fold-out chairs. On it stood a light blue and white ceramic fruit bowl that currently held zero fruit, just the recording device he'd given her and... some pieces of golden sapphire and diamond jewelry? Puzzled, Javier picked up what turned out to be a bracelet. He raised one eyebrow at her as she set down plates for them. 

"Got a raise?" 

"Ha! As if. I should have, though. What with the extra work I got saddled with last night. That's the problem with rich people. Miserly. The more zeroes on their bank statements the stingier they get." She scoffed, ranting away all the way to and fro carrying the cutlery. "No, this-" she stabbed a spoonhandle through the bracelet and swirled it around once, twice, before glowering at the gemstones darkly, "This is what Mrs Jurado had me borrow to complete my outfit yesterday. Obviously I have to return them, which is why I'm meeting her for coffee tomorrow afternoon. If you do your whole government agent covert spy observation thing you could at least get eyes on her, maybe even him, too. Franklin Jurado, the money launderer. You can just smell the entitlement on him. I bet he went to one of the really fancy schools over there, like Princeton. Or maybe Harvard." 

"I'm glad to see you're making friends." Javier had followed her to the kitchen, leaning against a cabinet and watching her place the food on plates, any attempts to help or make himself useful deftly rebuffed as always. 

"I think it was Harvard actually. I think he mentioned it- It's on the recording, in any case. Real smug about it too. La Javeriana is a perfectly good university, too. Older, too. Luis Carlos Galán attended it, you know? Graduated in economics and law, like I did." 

"Like the new president, too." Javier dared remark, only to be leveled with a death glare that could make a man fear for his life. 

"Professor Samper, oh yes," she said pointedly, thrusting the plates at him, "Don't remind me please. The whole family attended, have for generations." 

Javier dutifully carried over the dishes and set them down, returning a moment later for the pitcher of water. Diana followed him, wiping her glasses with her tee-shirt in a gesture he had come to know was more about calming down than it was about being able to see better. 

"Right, no politics at meal time. Tell me something interesting instead." Diana attacked her food with a frightening kind of fervor. And suddenly the only thing he could think about was what Stechner had told him the night before, how the deal would go ahead, a neat little setup by politicians whose only objective was looking good enough for re-election. Naturally, the words died in his throat. He shrugged and started digging in. 

"Nothing huh? Okay, well, how about this then: How many Mrs Rodríguezes are there?" 

"Is this a trick question?" There should be one only, seeing as Miguel was widowed and his little shit of a son wasn't exactly husband material - nor looking to be. "One?"

"Close. There's three." 

That didn't make any sense. "That doesn't make any sense. Miguel is widowed and David- ...Gilberto! Gilberto?" 

"Gilberto." She confirmed. "All three. They have a rota, apparently. On Sundays they just sit around while he watches whatever game is on which sounds thrilling. And I thought my marriage was crap." 

"Huh." If Javier thought that the farcical nature of governmental - and inter-governmental - bureaucracy had prepared him for the absurdity of chasing drug kingpins he had apparently been sorely mistaken. But mostly, he was relieved to see that Diana was in such good spirits again, what with how affected she'd sounded the night before. Lunch was over in no time at all, and Javier felt his short night starting to catch up with him. He yawned surreptitiously as he helped carry the dirty dishes back into the kitchen, or what he thought had been surreptitious anyway. 

"Okay, coffee or nap?" 

"Huh?" Dammit, his eyes were burning. Diana took the plates and deposited them in the sink, leaving him to blink sluggishly. "I can do those. The dishes." 

"You're about to keel over. Haven't slept a wink, have you?" 

"About three hours, and another half hour or so on the plane. I'm fine, really." He admitted. The fact that he had to lean against the cabinets did not exactly serve to strengthen his argument. Diana tutted. 

"I need to run some errands, grocery shopping and the like. If you are really determined to get to work on the recording I'll make you a good strong coffee before I go, but I would personally suggest you use the time to catch up on some sleep. The couch pulls out." 

It was tempting, it really was, but Javier also knew that he'd have a harder time falling asleep later if he messed up his rhythm more now. 

"Coffee it is, then." She set to work in the same breath. 

A fond smile pulled at Javier's lips. "Thank you." --- Even knowing she was fine and safe now, she hadn't expected that listening to the recording would be so excruciatingly stressful. She had very helpfully compiled a list of encounters, along with time estimates (and a very evocative caricature of the chief accountant, Guillermo Pallomari), which had allowed him to fast forward through the recording to get a general overview. Even so, he'd gotten stuck on several bits, even replaying a few. The introductory round, for one. Her panic attack in the bathroom. Or the segment with that slimy little bastard David Rodríguez. Her quick thinking and clever diversion of Pacho's suspicions. He hated hearing the strain in her voice, the barely masked anxiousness that none of them even seemed to notice but that stood out to him so very clearly. His jaw was clenched so tight he could feel his teeth grinding– The lock on the front door clicked open, jolting Javier from his focused state. A quick glance at his watch told him it had been well over three hours since she'd left for her errands, afternoon now melting into early evening. In his haste to get up he tangled the wires, cursing as he he sat back down. Diana huffed into view, heavy-looking bags on each arm. 

"Hey there," she threw him a quick smile before vanishing into the kitchen to set down her load, re-emerging a heartbeat later. She crossed the distance in a few strides, lightly squeezing his shoulder as she leaned over him to peer at the notes he'd taken. "How's it going? Anything viable?" 

Her touch, given with such casual affection, electrified him. He'd never been, never considered himself the type of person anyone would come home to. 

"Plenty." He needed to collect himself, clear his throat and mind and get a grip. "You did amazing work." And I can't use it in court because you incriminate yourself all throughout.

"Good, I'm glad. Would have been a re-" 

The shrill ringing of her landline interrupted them. Immediately, Javier mourned the loss of her touch, the spot on his shoulder where her hand had lingered now turning cold. Pull yourself together, dammit! 

The telephone was mounted on the wall that separated hallway and kitchen, and had a cord long enough to allow for a range of movement to about halfway into the latter. Unsure of whether he was supposed to be listening, he tried to go back to the recording. Only tried rather turned into pretended. As quickly as he had put the headphones on, he took them off again, watching Diana for a moment of hesitation. She was shuffling around the kitchen entrance, emptying her shopping bags with the phone receiver pinned between her cheek and shoulder. She was talking to her aunt, tense and worried, but managed a small smile when she caught Javier's eye. Wordlessly, he started helping her putting the groceries away as directed. 

"No, I know you don't approve. No one approves except Gabriela, and incidentally Gabriela is also the only one who saw that I was making a mistake right from the start and the only one who tried to dissuade me from going through with the wedding, and if I'd only listened to her and my gut back then, I wouldn't-" She turned her back at this, and Javier put away the last few pieces and left the kitchen, giving her the pretense of privacy at least. It wasn't like the apartment was so vast that her voice wouldn't carry. He walked over to the stereo system he'd turned off earlier and switched it back on, fiddling with the volume by way of looking distracted. 

"...No, and I don't want to talk about it any more. I don't care what the Pope says; the Pope was never married! ...Yes, put her on; I think that's better for everyone involved." 

Immediately her voice and stance relaxed, became softer and warmer, and the conversation a lot more one-sided as Diana talked to Salome on the phone. Javier's knees were starting to protest at his half-kneeling by the sideboard, but he was too transfixed by trying to determine whether the little girl would perhaps say a few words today. She sometimes did, though very rarely, and Javier had yet to witness it himself. 

"Okay, my little darling, you be good for granny, alright? Sleep well, sweetheart. I love you. Bye-bye." 

Diana hung up and shuffled over, taking a seat on he edge of the coffee table closest to him. Javier gave up on the volume dial and turned towards her. 

"Everything okay?" She nodded and took off her glasses to rub at her eyes. Cautiously, Javier placed his hand atop hers where it laid in her lap, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the top of it soothingly. "And are you okay?" 

"I will be; I just- ...I try that she at least hears my voice every day, even if I can't be there and- She's so little and has already lost so much, and every time I have to leave I feel like I'm just making it worse and like maybe that's why she still barely talks. And it's so unfair! She's just a little girl and she needs her mother or at least she needs a mother and we try - my aunt and I try our best but we're all that's left of this family." Her voice got quieter with each word, fading to a whisper before ceasing. Javier didn't know how to respond; all the obvious things seemed like meaningless phrases, frivolous and unhelpful. Diana deflated, her whole frame drooping like misery personified. She let out a single, quiet sob, gripping his hand in both of hers like he was her anchor. "I just wish I at least knew what I was doing." 

She wiped at her eyes angrily, blindly grasping for the glasses on the table behind her until she found them and shoved them back on. She stood abruptly, but did not let go of his hand, instead tugging him up, to which his beleaguered knees only objected more. 

"Sorry, forget that. Let's sort out dinner." She stalked back into the kitchen, and Javier could only follow of creaky knees, the blood rushing back down into his feet and making them prickle and almost falter. She finally let go of his hand in front of the refridgerator, throwing open the door of it like a shield between them.  

"So for dinner I was thinking-" 

"Miss Rivas." She didn't even hear him, just went on explaining what was possible with the ingredients she'd picked up earlier. Javier laid his hand on top of hers gently, feeling the tension in her fingers, the tremble in them as she gripped the fridge door tight. Gently still, he eased her grip and shut the door. She didn't even look at him, obstinately staring down at the tiled floor instead. 

"I'm in control of my emotions." She declared defiantly. "I'm not a liability to your investigation." 

"I know." Javier took both her hands in his now, squeezed them once, still gentle. Kept his voice soft too; soft and low and for her ears only. "I know you ...aren't. It's okay. You're doing so good. You're doing amazing. It's okay." On the last few words, he raised their entwined hands, nudging her chin up to look at him. Took in her reddened but stubbornly dry eyes, her lips pressed into a painful line, and the hard set of her jaw and brows. All she needed was one final push to let go, one word of permission, and he gave it gladly. "It's okay." 

He'd expected an outburst now, an explosive outpouring of grief or at least wrath. Instead, Diana squeezed his hands back once before letting go, leaving him standing in the kitchen while she went into her bedroom. He heard her rummage around for a moment, then she returned with a small photo album in her hands which she carefully set down on the counter before throwing it open and flipping through the pages until she found the picture she was looking for. It showed what he assumed was her family. He recognized only her and Maritza, both noticeably younger then. Side by side, the family resemblance became more apparent, especially in comparison with the respective parents. Wordlessly, she flipped through the pages. In the next one Maritza's father was missing, the one after that, her own father was no longer there. The one after that showed the addition of a young man and what must have been a newborn Salome, him holding the baby with a broad, dimpled smile that his daughter had inherited. He was gone in the following picture, Diana's mother vanished in the one after that, until the last photograph showed only Maritza's mother, Diana herself, and little Salome. 

"Some time after we cleared out Maritza's apartment, I went to Escobar's grave. If I was looking for some kind of satisfaction, I didn't find it there." She closed the album with a sharp snap. "The whole drive back, last night, I was sure I was about to end up fish fodder, and I just thought... with how my aunt's health is failing, will Salome be all alone in the world before she's even five?" 

Javier swallowed hard, choking on the words that had sprung up onto the tip of his tongue. That he wouldn't let that happen (but it could have happened not twenty-four hours prior and there would have been nothing he could have done about it). That he would make sure the little girl was taken care of (How? He wasn't kin and Diana's aunt didn't know him. And he wasn't exactly prime fatherhood material, so what exactly did he think he could do?). And in the back of his head, he still heard the desperate shallow little breaths she'd heaved during her panic attack. So different words jumped onto his tongue instead, tumbling out before he could ever think through the implications. 

"Do you want out? You don't even have to go meet Mrs Jurado tomorrow, I can organize to have you pulled out within the week. And your family too. You'd be safe." 'I am never doing this again', she'd said. Well, he wouldn't make her. And considering what he knew now, that his whole investigation was just a front? What was the damn point of it anyway? 

Diana smiled, just a slight quirk of the corner of her lip, but the first in what felt like hours now. "Now? No. I don't want anyone else having to go through what my family and I went through, here or anywhere. This kind of...lust for power - it's grasping. It never stops, it is never satisfied. And it doesn't care what stands in its way." 

"You sure?" He ought to tell her, he really ...but even though the betrayal isn't his, just his to hand on, he hesitates again. 

"I am. Starting with meeting Christina Jurado tomorrow. Besides, you'll be with me all the way through." 

"Yeah," his voice creaks like a rusty hinge, "Yeah, of course I'll be. Just a stone's throw away." --- "Goodness, does she ever shut up?" Javier shut the door behind himself, hanging up the spare key on the hook by the door. They'd just returned from Diana and Mrs Jurado's coffee and lunch date - separately for safety purposes - and Javier's head was still swimming. Diana might be reasonably called talkative, but at least she had things to say. Christina Jurado, it turned out, could talk a mile a minute without saying much of substance at all. Diana had been all but steam-rollered by the barrage of conversation and Javier, who had listened closely to all two and a half hours of it, was starting to feel the beginnings of a pressure headache building. 

"Without being condescending, Agent Peña, there is so much that men don't understand about the way women talk with each other." Diana peeked out into the hallway with a raised eyebrow. "Besides, she may well have been... uuh-" 

"May have been what?" After discarding his shoes, he walked into the apartment fully. Diana frowned, then touched a fingertip to the side of her nose with a meaningful look. When he didn't light up with sudden understanding, she gave a good-natured yet long-suffering sigh. And Javier really thinks he should probably have slept more than four hours, but his back was now paying the price for his stint on that marshmallow fluff that passed for Katie's mattress, and also his mind liked to give him trouble when it ought to quiet down. 

"She may have been what, Miss Rivas?" 

"Mrs Jurado, I have good reason to believe, likes to uhh... sample the product." The penny rolled around Javier's exhausted mind a moment longer before dropping. 

"...You mean to tell me she was high on cocaine the whole time?" 

"Yes. Why are you whispering?" Why indeed. Javier cleared his throat and wondered why this revelation left him so scandalized. "She did use on Friday night, too, which is a frequency I honestly find alarming. I hope it's more of a weekend thing- Franklin knows, but I don't think he has any idea what to do about it. I'd reckon it's something they're both keen to keep under wraps, though for different reasons. I don't imagine the gentlemen would be overly thrilled, especially the brothers. They like to keep a pretty tight hold on everything even remotely to do with the business." 

"Huh... what the hell are you do-" While he had been musing on this new development in his sluggish mind, she'd stuck one hand down her blouse from the top and the other up it from the bottom, fumbling around for a moment before pulling the wiretap she'd been wearing for the meeting out and handing it to him non-chalantly. 

"When's your flight?" 

"Uh, late. Later. Ten-ish." He'd be back in Bogotá before midnight, but there was the drive back to Buenaventura to consider. Even so, it was only mid-afternoon now. Javier rubbed his hand over his burning eyes. His brain was no longer in a state to be doing that kind of math and he sighed, the coffee he'd just had clearly not doing anything. 

"You have at least an hour to get some sleep. Come lie down." She was out from in front of him and across the room before he could blink tiredly, already pushing back the coffee table and bending to pull out the couch. Javier meant to protest, he really did. But. Sleep beckoned. And so, with heavy feet dragging across the laminate floor, he acquiesced. 

"Thanks." He mumbled, gratefully receiving a pillow. 

"I'll wake you in an hour, hour and a half tops." She already sounded further away than she should be, considering she was by the sofa-bed's - and his - head still. Javier hummed a reply, more affirmative sound than any proper words. As he drifted off, he thought he felt gentle fingers brushing the hair back from his forehead. But surely that was just wishful thinking, for what else could it be? ---

So, six more months of looking busy and doing nothing while the Calí godfathers revved up operations to squeeze as much money as they could out. He'd had to send his agents home after they'd been splashed all over the front page of the Espectador, so not only did the DEA not currently have any presence on the ground in Calí, it also left Diana without even the faintest layer of protection. And with the massive stink the Colombians, fronted by General Vargas, had kicked up about it, he couldn't send in any replacements, no matter how eager or indeed fastidious Agent Feistl was. And now the incident in Yumbo. The youngest of the dead had only been six years old. Javier glowered at the TV report where the safety inspector was giving his final report. Natural gas leak... yeah, sure. This thing reeked; he felt it in his bones that the cartel was responsible somehow. And he couldn't go after them. The desire to go find Stechner and smash his stupid smug face through the screen became near unbearable. He turned the TV off before the urge manifested into action. 

He sat down behind his desk, taking a moment to look around the largely dark and empty office space around him before opening that particular drawer on the top right and taking out the arrest warrants. Their money and power and the influence both bought meant that the Calí bosses could move comparatively freely, but they still hid away. Carefully so, with the kind of tight-knit security that most heads of state could only dream of. Even if he did find a way to get at them, his hands were now unofficially bound. Well over a year's work, two good agents sent home, his informant risking her life every single day, more innocent dead who would never get justice, and what for? He hated it. He still hadn't told her. He thought about quitting. 

The phone rang. He knew it was her. She didn't even try his home landline first now, knowing he spent his evenings at the office more often than not. Javier let it ring once more while mustering up the courage to come clean. 

"Miss Rivas, good evening." 

"Decidedly not. Did you watch the news?" 

Javier scrubbed a hand over his face, squeezed his eyes shut so as to not have to look at the warrants spread out on his desk. There was only so much mockery a man could take. "Yeah. Yeah, I did." 

"It was them. David specifically, that self-absorbed buffoon. They chewed him out for over half an hour over it, which is far less than he deserves." 

"I figured." His throat felt tight; undoing another shirt button did precisely nothing. 

"Gilberto worries it will give the government leverage to go back on the deal. I hope it does."

So did Javier, but knowing the special interests being at play here he didn't hold out much hope. 

"And you have been made to recall your agents from Calí." 

Javier gulped. "Yes." 

"But they'll be replaced, right?" 

Well, here goes nothing then. "...No." 

Silence. She's not one to raise her voice even when upset and right now she must be livid. But perhaps she's shocked before anything else. Shocked into silence, into disbelief. He hates this, too. He wishes she would scream at him. Instead all he gets is a brittle quiet little '...What?' 

And it's so unfair, all of it. Stechner doesn't have to face her with this, the bastard. None of the politicians who are oh so invested in this little vanity project do either, the consequences aren't real to them. They get to collect the empty symbol of a supposedly bloodless surrender, some good publicity, and don't have to do or face any of the ugly truths on the ground. He thinks about quitting again. Pats his pocket for the reporter's business card. If he's leaving, he thinks, he'd do it with a bang. Burn all bridges with a mighty barrage of his personal J'accuse. But for now that's all idle thinking. 

"The surrender deal is going ahead as planned, because the powers that be will it so." He explained, truly understanding the sentiment of shooting the messenger at this very moment. "My hands are bound, there's nothing I can do."  

"Bullshit!" Yeah, agreed. He tries saying more, justifications that turn to dust on his tongue before the words even leave his mouth. His heart's not in it, and it only serves to stoke her wrath, fearsome even over the distance of the phone line. 

"What else will they get away with? If you're rich enough you can buy impunity? A blank cheque for murder? How many more people must die? Every day I go in and make myself complicit in it all on the promise that it will take them down!" 

The worst part of this, perhaps, is that he knows she's right. If any of those senators in their cushy Washington offices had even a bit of her bravery, her steadfastness, her moral clarity– 

"I'm sorry." His mouth is so dry. At last he opens his eyes again, glaring down at the warrants. Gilberto Rodríguez Orejuela. Miguel Rodríguez Orejuela. 

"You're sorry?" Even now her voice is still level. Full of venomous disbelief and cold with rage, yes, but it has not risen even a single decibel. 

"Miss Rivas, I-" 

The line went dead with a click. She'd hung up.

--- --- --- 

author’s notes: 

*me, an idiot* this chapter will cover episodes 1 through to 4. this is a thing that is feasible and realistic

*me, 7000 words in and still at the party* ah. oh no.

in other words: remember last chapter when I cut things off because I wanted to keep it below 10k? yeah, that won’t be happening anymore. It takes as long as it takes. *shrug emoji* stay hydrated.

DIAN (Dirección de Impuestos y Aduanas Nacionales) is the Colombian government agency that is responsible for collecting taxes

Fernando Botero is a Colombian artist and sculptor, famous for these really chunky bronze statues, though the one I reference here is a complete fabrication and does not actually exist

according to the Art and Making of Narcos book Navegante’s actual name is Jorge Velasquez

‘chompa’ according to the dictionary I used, is a term for jacket used in Colombia and some other places

yes I looked up average temperatures in all these cities. I have concluded that it gets hot af in Laredo

La Javeriana (Pontificia Universidad Javeriana) is one of the oldest and most prestigious universities in Colombia. Presidential candidate Carlos Luis Galan did indeed attend there, as did president Ernesto Samper, who is president during the season in the show. He also did indeed teach there for a while in the early 80s, which fortunately matches up with my timeline. It was indeed founded before Harvard. Thirteen years before to be exact (1623 vs 1636)

here’s the drawing Diana made of Pallomari (contador=accountant): 

tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @fromthedeskoftheraven @dindjarindiaries @shikin83 @cinewhore @maddoggrahaml @javier-djarin @huliabitch @heatherbel @shestillwrites1​

didn’t ask to be tagged but reblogged all previous parts and therefore I assume you enjoyed it regardless of that you reading my story made me very happy list: @asoftcollection​ (thank you for indulging me and brainstorming the Jurados with me it helped a lot) @holographic-carmen​  @dermandalorianer​  @oldstuffnewstuff​ (sry it won’t let me tag ur sideblog hope this is okay)

Next Chapter

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 11 - De Orfeo Records

Summary: Sunset Cure AU, Willex, is there a chance?, 2.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Reggie and Carlos were running around in the middle of taking down equipment after their latest gig. Luke shook his head as he wrapped cords over his arm and placed them in a storage box. Alex, however, was nervously trying not to get run into as he carried various pieces of his drum set out and handed them to Bobby in the back of the van. He could forgive Reggie not really helping out since he was taking responsibility for the kid, but also hadn’t anticipated that their energies combined would put him more on edge.

As he went inside to grab the last piece of his set, he found that Reggie had taken his flannel and tied it around his neck like a cape, with Carlos wearing his leather jacket in a similar fashion. They approached Bobby, who immediately joined their game and they pretended to battle each other. By the time Alex had finished getting his whole set in the van, they were playing out a dramatic victory over defeating Bobby.

“Guys, this is great, but we really should finish packing up,” Alex said, although he was smiling from the entertainment.

“I guess you’re the next bad guy we fight,” Carlos said in a mock-deep voice.

“We can schedule it later, Robin,” Alex teased.

“Oh, no, he’s Batman,” Reggie corrected. “I’m Robin!” He put his fists on his hips in a proud superhero pose.

A big SHHHHHH came from Luke and they all looked over at him to see what was up. He was far off by the venue office, holding a phone to his ear and writing onto a notepad. His eyes were wide with excitement, and his energy was only held back by the other hand tapping against the paper. The boys watched as his smile grew bigger and he said goodbye, barely putting the phone back in place properly.

“YEEESS!!” he cried, raising his fists into the air in celebration. They all came running toward him to see what had happened.

“Boys, we’ve got good news!” Luke told them. Looking on in anticipation, Alex gripped his fanny pack tightly. “One of the record execs that came tonight is offering for us to sign onto their label and put out some songs! He even heard our demo!”

Everyone celebrated, jumping up and down and high-fiving each other. Reggie let Carlos climb onto him in a piggyback and they both yelled triumphantly. Luke pulled Alex into a bro hug, then Bobby. Alex held his arms up and placed his hands on top of his head, unable to believe what had just happened. Euphoria filled his head like helium and he went to double-high-five Carlos, who was still perched on Reggie’s back.

“So what else did they say?” Bobby asked, still smiling.

Luke had to shake off some more excitement before he could explain the rest.

“Ahhh, so he said we could meet in a few days to discuss business and contracts and such, let us get a look at the studio and stuff. I got all his contact information and he’s totally excited to get us on. We’re moving on up boys!”

The celebration continued, and their renewed energy caused the rest of the take-down to go by much faster. They were still riding the high as they drove home. Alex listened to Luke talk about which songs they would want to record first and where they would land on the charts. He remembered that feeling he had back at the Pearl during their sound check. Doing that? For real and not just dreaming and hoping about it? They hadn’t made it just yet, but this was a change he could be excited for.

Reggie had been staying with Carlos, which the rest of the boys figured was a good excuse to not stay home. As Bobby pulled up to the house, he and Luke began climbing out of the van. Carlos and Reggie were already inside.

“Uh, guys?” Alex said, still in the back of the van. They all turned back to him. “What are you doing?”

“Oh,” Luke gestured like oh-silly-me. “We all decided to stay here for the night. It’s just a nice change from the garage and Julie’s aunt has lots of leftovers that need to be eaten so…”

“So...I’m grounded,” Alex reminded, raising his eyebrows. His parents hadn’t been happy about him sneaking out to the pier the other night.

“Screw your old man, Alex,” Bobby said.

“Yeah, he can eat my shorts if he tries to do anything about it,” Luke added.

Alex took a moment to think. Disobeying wasn’t going to do anything for or against him at this point - he kept anything truly important to him out of his parents’ reach and since he’d gotten the punching bag he could actually contend with their tempers. They couldn’t punish him in a way that mattered.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” he said finally, following them into the house.

They found Reggie and Carlos already raiding the kitchen.

“Alex, you’re staying too?” Reggie said when he saw them enter.

“Yes!” Carlos cried, pumping his fist. “You get to make popcorn. Tonight, the Empire Strikes Back!”

“Oh yeah, baby!” Reggie responded as the rest of the boys began following orders from Carlos. Alex wasn’t crazy about Star Wars, but eh….young Mark Hamill was hot so he didn’t mind too much. He was sure most of them would fall asleep during the movie anyway.

A couple hours later it turned out he was right. Carlos was slumped on the floor leaning back against the chair Luke was sitting in, hand still in the bowl of popcorn. Luke was leaning on his hand, breathing soundly. Alex had watched earlier as Bobby’s head flopped onto Reggie’s shoulder and the flustered look that had overcome Reggie’s face, and it was too good not to smile at. Once the VCR began automatically rewinding the movie, Alex shut off the TV.

He stared at the ceiling as he pulled the handle on the La-Z-Boy he was in and reclined into a somewhat comfortable position. Even now, weeks later after meeting for only a day, the first thing he wished he could do was tell Willie the news about the record label. He probably would have been just as ecstatic as the rest of them, if not more. Victoria would be back soon and hopefully have some news. He guessed it didn’t matter if he’d been right about the missing kid, but maybe just knowing if she got to talk with Willie would be enough.

The memory of soft brown eyes still rose in his mind. He’d been doing his best to keep that moment cemented in his brain because he’d noticed it helped him sleep. It was funny because he’d done the same thing with the guys, but staring into Willie’s eyes had been an entirely different experience. Alex wished he had the proper words to describe it, but the best he could do was marvel. Willie was clearly unaware of the strength he held, and it made Alex want to bring that out with his entire being. If he ever did get the chance, that would be something worth looking forward to.

Victoria didn’t arrive until the afternoon the next day. Since Alex felt that she had gone because of him, he made everyone else clean her house as well as they could. No traces of food on the floor, no messy beds, and the kitchen was cleaner than when they had found it. As she came back into the house, she put a hand over her heart.

“Wow!” she exclaimed. “I should take trips like this more often if you boys are this good!”

“Yes, tía, please, please, please let them babysit me again! Pleeeeaaassee!” Carlos begged with his hands pressed together.

“Ay, sobrino, no me quieres?” she shook her head.

“No, I do!” Carlos tried to recover. “But they’re fun!”

As if to make a point, Reggie rubbed a hand on Carlos’ head.

“It’s okay little dude, we’ll be back.”

Victoria pulled her wallet out of her purse.

“Well, you boys took very good care of him and I promised I would pay you, so here you go.” She handed each of them a generous amount of cash. Luke, Reggie and Bobby all whooped as they thanked her and headed to the van. Alex held back with anticipation. Victoria looked at him seriously.

“There was no connection,” she told him before he asked. “His guardian explained everything to me, and there was nothing else to go on. I wanted to know because I thought I could solve an old case, but I had to let it go.”

“Well, did you get to talk to him?” Alex tried not to sound too urgent.

“You mean Willie? No, I never saw him. After talking with his guardian I didn’t need to.”

Bowing his head, Alex made himself swallow his other questions. She had at least tried.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry if it was inconvenient.”

“I chose to go, don’t worry about it,” she assured.

Nodding and saying thanks one more time, Alex hurried out after the rest of his friends.

A few days later, the boys slammed the doors of the van shut as they looked up at the building before them. It was so plain and simple on the outside; they never would’ve guessed there was a studio there. It was likely they had driven past it many times on the way to a gig. Pushing through the door, they all looked at the logo in neon lights on the wall: De Orfeo Records.

Collectively, the boys took in awed breaths at the reality of where they were standing. This was too good to believe. Alex took in the scene, trying to imagine this being a place he came to regularly. Could he ever get used to it, or get over the sheer excitement of just being there? Luke patted him on the back, desperately trying to contain himself. They wandered through the halls a little bit until they came to a room where the door was sitting open.

“Oh, boys!” A man called as they almost walked past it. “In here!”

As they all shuffled in, the man shook their hands and pointed them to a couch where they could sit. Alex nervously stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he took a seat. The man across from them was dressed surprisingly casually, if not with obvious expensive taste. He still had sunglasses on, but their yellow tint was clearly not for actual UV protection.

“Nice to meet all of you,” he was saying. “My name is Alan, I’m one of the producers here at De Orfeo. Which one of you did I talk to on the phone?”

Luke raised his hand.

“That was me,” he said, already gushing with excitement. “How’d you hear about us, anyway?”

Alan didn’t answer, but instead looked up at the doorway as someone else came in.

“Hello boys!” Caleb Covington entered, his charismatic smile spread wide across his face. “So nice to see you again.”

Alex’s heart rate immediately sped up and he clenched his hands inside his pockets. How could it be? He thought his last chance to reach out to Willie was gone and seeing Caleb brought back everything he hadn’t been able to ask Julie’s aunt. All the guys were happy to recognize him.

“I won’t be staying for the negotiations,” Caleb said. “but I wanted to properly introduce myself as the owner of this label. I want to assure you boys the best experience as newcomers in the industry. Let any nerves that still linger walk right out the door.” His eyes landed on Alex for a moment, and it felt purposeful. “Take it away, Alan.”

Listening to the producer’s pitch was difficult to focus on now, and Alex had to fight hard against his brain latching onto the new hopes that had arisen. He was thankful that when paperwork came out, Bobby was mindful enough to have them read through it. It was taking too long, though, and Alex was already wishing he had his drumsticks in hand to help pass the time. Reggie had so many questions, and Luke had trouble understanding numerous words - at least that kept Alex occupied because he could be helpful in that. A good hour had passed going over all the information.

“This looks great!” Luke said finally. “How are we feelin’ boys?”

Each of them nodded and looked around at each other, confirming that they all agreed on every settlement. Luke grabbed a pen and pulled his copy of the contract toward him, pausing momentarily to drink in what was happening. Then he signed his name in giant letters. Alex, Bobby, and Reggie followed suit, and Alex could feel a weird tingle rush through his hand as he made the final flourish with his pen. They were all in now.

As the band began celebrating, Caleb knocked on the doorframe.

“If it’s alright with you boys, I wanted to speak with Alex privately for a moment,” Caleb said, gesturing for Alex to follow him outside the room.

His curiosity was at the point of overflowing, and he went out trying to control his trembling hands. Maybe Caleb had talked to Willie after all. This could be his way to bridge that gap and he wouldn’t have to live off of just memories.

Everyone else was still going nuts over getting the contracts signed back in the room. Standing in the lobby, Caleb was looking at him seriously, maybe even pitifully. It quickly drained the exhilaration in Alex’s chest.

“I can tell you’ve been wanting to ask me some questions,” he began. “But before you do, I thought it was best to inform you of some important details first.”

Alex looked up at him with his hands back in his pockets and gulped. Why was his heartbeat suddenly so loud? He knew Caleb couldn’t actually hear it, but it still embarrassed him. His mouth began to go dry.

Caleb furrowed his brow, as if what he was about to say wasn’t easy to get out. He bowed his head and took a breath before looking at Alex again.

“Willie,” he started. Then he paused. “Is dead.”

The trembling in Alex’s hands stopped.

He stared at Caleb, as if he could pull off the serious expression and find a joking smile underneath. It was a few moments before he remembered to breathe in, and blinking seemed to cut that moment into two as if the first one wasn’t real.

“No, no, that can’t - ” he heard the words spill out of his mouth. Why was his body so tense and ready to defend itself? His cheeks felt hot.

“I know the news is hard,” Caleb interrupted, placing a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I can hardly bear it myself. There was an electrical fire. He didn’t make it out.”

Alex could only shake his head. Caleb’s expression wasn’t changing and for some reason it was the most infuriating sight. He could punch that face and make him bleed if he really wanted to. The adrenaline was already rushing to his fist.

“There has to be a mistake,” he said, chuckling darkly.

“There is no mistake,” Caleb told him firmly.

How was the man so calm? How could he say those words out loud and not immediately crumble to the earth? How could he have worn such a large smile earlier?

“I know you two weren’t friends for long, but he made it clear you were important to him.”

The words came through as if from a tiny speaker. They’d only gotten one day and it wasn’t enough. Willie couldn’t go like that, he simply couldn’t - not when Alex needed to know if they could’ve ever had something real. He still wanted to know so many things about him and look into those brown eyes and soften the hard edges on them. He needed to - 

He was crying. On his hands and knees, trying to get the dark shadow that had grown inside his chest to come out. It made him choke. Caleb had apparently left him alone, unable to console him, and he felt hands on his back and shoulders as he fought to properly breathe. Luke was knelt down before him, mouth hanging open in want of words but not able to form any. Bobby was gripping his hand and supporting him as he and Reggie pulled him up onto his feet.

“We need to get him in the van,” one of them was saying.

Any movement from there was not his own. All three boys were trying their hardest to help the tallest member of their band out of the building. Everything was numb - like a machine that had broken down after being run too hard.

The brown eyes faded into darkness, murky and thick. There was no air in his lungs to scream into that dark, no tie-dye, no rolling of wheels on the sidewalk, no ‘ribbit’, no more wondering and hoping.

Dead quiet. That was all.

[imgoingtohellsofuckit]

Dipper Pines Is Bad At Romance

Adult Dipper x Reader

Warnings - None

Summary - Mable kicks Dipper out for the day and he meets a girl that seems too good to be true

soo i’ve been rewatching gravity falls and I remembered my childhood crush on Dipper so I decided fanfic time

"Dipper you've been staring at that book for hours!" Mable groans, "stop being so boring!" Dipper rolls his eyes as he moves the book up to cover his face. It's just like Mable to bother him about nothing. I mean he's working on a case he doesn't have time to not be focused. Sure they saved the town- no the world but that doesn't mean she's come to her senses about how they need to focus on these things."Mable I'm kinda busy," Dipper groans.

"You're not busy you're boring!" Mable exclaims.

"I'm not boring I'm trying to help Ford with this investigation," Dipper says at once, "I mean this is important!"

"You know what else is important?" She asks looking over her brother, "socializing, going outside every once in a while. When's the last time you talked to someone that wasn't related to you?"

Dipper thinks for a moment. He can't remember if he's being honest. He's just been working with Ford so he hasn't had time to worry about talking to other people.

"And you reek- have you showered either?" Mable asks him.

"I-"

"No no thats it as your twin I'm putting my foot down," Mable says fiercely, "you're going to go shower-and then I'm making you go into town and socialize!"

"I have a job to do," He says defensively.

"Dipper you're wasting your twenties away!" Mable exclaims, "come on all you've done the last three weeks is work on this. You're just burning yourself out so. You need a break. So I'm forcing you to take one."

"Ugh kid this room's disgusting," Stan groans, "I'm pretty sure it's a biohazard."

"I've almost got it-"

"No you don't," Ford says simply, "Mable you can look over his notes for now, Dipper you need to leave the house."

"But-but-"

"Dipper you are disgusting," Mable says harshly, "come on go into town and I don't know get a coffee or talk to someone. Get some new clothes so we can burn those."

"Hey!"

"Now shower and go!"

Dipper caved. Well is it really caving when you're bulled into it? So he showered and got his car keys from Mable and went in town. If for nothing than get everyone to shut up.

"Well what now," Dipper says as he walks along the sidewalk. His eyes scanning the building, "god why did they have to do this now? I was so close to a break through!"

"Man have I heard this one before," Dipper hears a unfamiliar voice say. He turns to see a girl around his age looking at him with a soft smirk. He's never seen her in town before. Must be new. "Team throw you out even though you were almost there?"

"Family actually," Dipper replies.

"Ouch thats even worse," She adds, "traitors the whole lot of em."

"Tell me about it," Dipper says chuckling lightly, "how do you think I feel."

"Positively filled with despair?" She teases lightly.

"Well I wouldn't go that far," He says with a chuckle, "I haven't seen you around before. You live here in Gravity Falls?"

"Ah I'm fairly new," She shares.

"Pretty random place to decide to move to," He says looking to the girl. She chuckles lightly.

"A friend from college grew up here and had a free room," She tells him, "I love small towns with weird people and thats pretty much the staple here." Dipper chuckles.

"You don't even know that half of it," Dipper says brightly, "I'm Dipper by the way."

"Dipper? Nice name," She says eyeing him closely.

"Nickname actually," He says as he rubs the back of his neck, "ya know one of those childhood nicknames that stick with you for the rest of your life."

"Oh man well at least you've got a cute one," She flirts, "the names Y/n."

"You're really pretty-No! Wait no you are pretty but uh uh- I mean that's a pretty name," Dipper stumbles. She chuckles.

"Thanks," She says giving him a soft smile, "so Dipper how about you and I get a cup of coffee?"

"Uh yeah," He stumbles, "that would be great."

"Come on," Y/n says leading them into the coffee shop. As they get into line his eyes keep on her closely. He's never met anyone so confident like this- well maybe Mable. But she's so much more calm and cool. They get their drinks then take a seat together at one of the tables by the windows. "So Dipper- aren't you Mable's twin?"

"You know my sister?" He asks.

"Oh yeah she's like always at the record store I work at," Y/n says, "she made me a sweater. Honestly I adore her."

"Everyone does," Dipper says softly.

"I'm sure that you hear it all the time," She says to him, "ya know she talks about you a lot. She's been trying to get me to come down the shack to meet you for like three weeks now."

"Whoa really?"

"Yeah she says we'd be good friends," She explains, "something about how we both are nerdy and like the paranormal."

"Paranormal eh?"

"Yeah I'm a paranormal investigator on the side. It's kinda the perfect place for that job," She smiles, "I know you guys aren't supposed to talk about it. But when Pacifica told me all about it-"

"Pacifica? That's your friend!"

"Yeah we were room mates in college," Y/n shares, "she's great for the most part. She told me all about you when you were like what 12? How you used to solve mysterious and helped saved the world."

"Really she talked about me?"

"Pacifica? Oh she talked all the time about the Twins who made her than a spoiled brat-"

"We did didn't we."

"Cocky aren't ya," She smirks, "you're lucky you're cute."

"I'm cute?"

"I thought you knew that already?" She chuckles as she twirls the ends of her h/c hair. Dipper chuckles nervously.

"So what did you major in?"

"I double majored in physics and parapsychology" She answers, "my parents were very confused. What about you?"

"I majored in biochemistry and minored in photographer and film production," He shares, "I loved it and it helped me start producing my online show."

"Online show?" She asks, "thats awesome."

"Yeah awesome," He says blushing brightly.

"I'll check it out sometime," She says smiling. He chuckles nervously again. She's pretty she's making him so nervous. I mean pretty girl who likes the paranormal and already knows about his weird past she's perfect- maybe too perfect. I mean girls aren't really interest in him and I mean she did just pop up out of no where. Oh man she's too good there has to be something wrong with her. She's a murderer, she's Bill! No she can't be. Oh my god is she just a bunch of  gnomes? Or a unicorn? Or a mermaid? "You okay Dipper?"

"Uh yeah I just need to call my sister," He says standing. She nods then looks to her coffee as he slips outside the coffee shop. He moves dialing Mable's number at once. After the third ring she picks up.

"You can't come back yet," Mable groans, "we're still cleaning up your toxic wasteland of a room." Dipper rolls his eyes.

"Listen Mable I think I need you to come into town... Look I met this girl-"

"You met a girl!"

"Mable listen to me!"

"Yeah okay okay listening!"

"I met this girl and she said she knew you but she's like crazy perfect and I think she might be gnomes," Dipper exclaims.

"You should crazy."

"I'm being serious Mable her names Y/n and-"

"Oh my god you met Y/n! Dipper I've been trying to set you two up for weeks!" Mable exclaims, "she's perfect for you! Oh do you like her?"

"Mable you aren't taking this serious!"

"No shes perfect for you!" Mable exclaims, "she's pretty, she's nice, she like mysterious! What's the problem Dipper?"

"She's too perfect!"

Mable sighs loudly. Of course her twin would do something like this. It's Dipper for crying out loud. He'd see a girl so obviously perfect for him then find a reason to mess it up.

"Dipper I'm begging you not to ruin this," Mable says firmly, "I've been setting you guys up for so long now and if you ruin it because you are too paranoid I will make you join that speed dating thing."

"What? Mable no!"

"Dipper you're ruining this! Just give her a chance she's really nice!"

"Too nice!"

"For a guy who's so smart you're kinda dumb."

"Mable," He groans. She sighs. What could she do to convince him that this is a good thing?

"Dipper?"

The boy turns to see the girl in question behind him.

"Y/n hey," Dipper says tensely.

"You think I'm a bunch of gnomes? Like what stacked up in a crop top and jeans?" She teases lightly.

"I'm hanging up now Dipper... Don't mess this up!"

"Mable-"

No use. She already hang up. Dipper sighs as he looks to the girl.

"I just- I don't know I've never met any cute girls who also like the science and the paranormal."

"Your sister was right you are dorky," She says with a chuckle, "listen I'm not a bunch of gnomes or a vampire. Not even a zombie. I'm just me. A normal girl." He avoids her eyes. He feels bad. I mean they were having a good time and he just had to freak out and ruin it like always.

'God dipper why do you always have to do this stuff!' He mentally screams.

"You know I don't meet a lot of cute guys who are into science and the paranormal," She says smirking at him, "I'm still kinda convinced you're a shape shiftier who's trying to get my brain. Paranoia comes with the job. We kinda need to get used to it. Think we can but aside the crazy theories and hang out? If you're like what Mable describes I'm sure we'd have a lot of fun."

"Really?"

"Yeah," She smiles, "I'm thinking you and me go and look at this haunted  mansion a couple towns over."

"Yeah?"

"I think it would be a great first date for us."

"Date?"

"I mean if thats okay?"

He smiles.

"It's okay."

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE – A COFFIN THAT SMALL (S01E19)

 [TRIGGER WARNING: kid trapped in laundry chute gif under the cut]

Matt Casey: Hey.

Heather Darden: I am so sorry. I completely zonked out.

Matt Casey: No worries. I didn’t want to wake you.

Heather Darden: What time is it?

Matt Casey: Uh, 7:00.

Heather Darden: Oops, I, uh, I have to pick up the boys from

                              grandma’s.

Matt Casey: Okay.

Heather Darden: Uh, the baking dish is still dirty, so I’m gonna

                              wash it.

Matt Casey: I’ll clean it.

Heather Darden: Matt.

Matt Casey: I saw this swing set fort type thing at True Value.

                      I’ve been meaning to build it for Griffin and Ben.

                      I’ll bring it and the dish by after shift. If that’s cool

                      with you.

Heather Darden: Thank you, you’re… that’s very sweet.

Matt Casey: Oh, come on.

Heather Darden: Mind if I use your bathroom?

Matt Casey: Of course.

                                    [knocks on door]

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Matt Casey: Hey.

Kelly Severide: My dad wanted me to drop that off. His way of

                          apologising for you catching that elbow.

Matt Casey: Thanks.

Kelly Severide: All right, well, I-I’ll see you at the house.

Heather Darden: Do you have any mouthwash?

Matt Casey: Eh… it’s not what you…

                      Hey.

                      Hey! It’s not what you think!

Kelly Severide: Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got it all figured out.

                                   [car door slams, engine starts]

                                                     cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: Hey! Any of you guys know John Pritchard,

                                         or are you all too young?

Matt Casey: He was gone before I came on, but I heard stories.

Mouch: Piece of work, that one.

Otis Zvonecek: What, he died or something?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah! You know, Boden, Mouch and me,

                                          we all knew him back in the day. He

                                          must have been 20 years older than

                                          Boden if that tells you anything.

Otis Zvonecek: What did he die of?

Christopher Herrmann: Old man stuff. I don’t know.

Matt Casey: [chuckles]

Christopher Herrmann: Funeral is tomorrow up at Grayslake.

Otis Zvonecek: Are you guys going?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, I guess, you know? We should

                                         pay our respects.

Matt Casey: All right. Hydrant’s good to go.

Christopher Herrmann: [grunts]

                                         Peter Mills, you get to flush the next

                                         one.

Mouch: By the way, saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi.

Otis Zvonecek: What the hell’s that?

Mouch: You bet me I couldn’t say a sentence in Japanese. I just

              said one. You owe me 20 bucks.

Joe Cruz: [chuckles]

Otis Zvonecek: Okay. (A) I don’t remember that. And (B) how do

                           I know you’re not just speaking gibberish?

Mouch: It’s a sentence.

Otis Zvonecek: What’s it mean?

Mouch: Pay me 20 bucks, I’ll tell you.

Otis Zvonecek: Ridiculous. You tell me and…

Boy 1: Help! Help!

            He fell!

            We were playing hide and seek upstairs.

Victim 1 (Little boy): [groans]

Matt Casey: Hang on. We’re coming.

Victim 1 (Little boy): [strangled grunts]

                                                 - title -

Joe Cruz: (into radio) This is 81. I need a paramedic across from

                  our firehouse.

Dispatcher: (over radio) What’s the address?

Joe Cruz: (into radio) Look for our lights!

                  Let’s go, bro!

Peter Mills: Hit it!

                                        [siren wailing]

Victim 1 (Little boy): [strangled grunts/breathing]

Matt Casey: His neck’s twisted. He can’t breathe.

Boy 1: I told Taye not to go in that chute. He knows better.

Matt Casey: Come with me.

                      All right, we have to get through this block.

                                             [buzzing]

Boy 1: [crying]

                                         [sirens wailing]

Matt Casey: (over radio) 61, we need you on the second floor.

                      It’s a child.

Gabby Dawson: What’s going on?

Otis Zvonecek: Kid hid in the laundry chute.

Joe Cruz: Mills, get in here.

Peter Mills: Yeah!

                                             [drilling]

Lady 1 (Mom): Dougie?

Boy 1 (Dougie): [cries] I told him infinity times not to hide in

                           there [cries]

                                 [indistinct chatter]

Matt Casey: Okay let’s peel back the front.

Lady 1 (Mom): Taye?

Chief Boden: Ma’am. Ma’am, don’t look.

Lady 1 (Mom): [gasps]

Chief Boden: We’ll get him out. Let them work.

Matt Casey: Get his head.

Lady 1 (Mom): Dougie… Honey, go upstairs.

Chief Boden: Okay.

Lady 1 (Mom): Oh God. Oh Lord.

Matt Casey: Let’s back him out.

Chief Boden: Don’t look.

Lady 1 (Mom): [cries]

Joe Cruz: [grunts]

                 Grab his legs.

Otis Zvonecek: He’s conscious but barely.

Lady 1 (Mom): Taye! [cries]

Chief Boden: Okay, okay. Okay.

Lady 1 (Mom): [cries]

Joe Cruz: Grab his legs.

Lady 1 (Mom): Taye.

Leslie Shay: Let’s board him quickly.

Chief Boden: Hold on to me.

Lady 1 (Mom): [sobs]

Gabby Dawson: One, two, three.

                                                  [grunting]

Gabby Dawson: You the mother?

Lady 1 (Mom): Yes.

Gabby Dawson: You can ride in the back with me. Let’s go.

Chief Boden: Go on.

                                                cutscene

Gabby Dawson: I’ll be right back.

                            What have you heard?

Lady 1 (Mom): Um… the doctor says it looks bad. It’s a

                          damaged windpipe, so his brain was…

                          without oxygen.

Gabby Dawson: Well, they’ve got great surgeons here. They’ll

                             do everything they can.

Lady 1 (Mom): You know… Taye has been to your firehouse.

Gabby Dawson: Oh yeah?

Lady 1 (Mom): Yeah. His whole class went on a field trip last fall

                          when the school year started. It was all he could

                          talk about for days [chuckles] [sniffs]

                          He said he wants to be a fireman, help people.

Gabby Dawson: That’s… that’s sweet.

Lady 1 (Mom): [sniffs] Gangs are always calling, but he won’t bite.

                         He’s gonna be straight and narrow, and I believe

                         that.

Gabby Dawson: I’m sure he will.

Lady 1 (Mom): [sniffles] Thank you.

                                               cutscene

Matt Casey: You gotta be kidding me.

Mouch: I don’t know if I can handle another season like the

              last one.

Christopher Herrmann: Hope springs eternal.

Mouch: Hope never met a Sox September.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, well at least you guys have a series win

                           in the last century. Try being a Cubs fan.

Christopher Herrmann: There’s plenty of room on the

                                         bandwagon if you want to move to

                                         the south side.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah. What are you, Pouch? You Cubs or Sox,

                           huh?

Christopher Herrmann: Look at her feet. She’s definitely a

                                         White Sox fan.

Joe Cruz: Guys, put a cork in it. I’m trying to listen to the

                 Hawk.

Mouch: Saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi.

Otis Zvonecek: What does that mean?

Matt Casey: Hey, if they score, come get me.

Otis Zvonecek: [muttering] Saikensha… Sai…

Chief Boden: Hey Lieutenant. I want to bring you up to speed

                       on what Kelly’s just filled me in on.

Kelly Severide: I’m gonna push to fast-track Peter Mills to

                          Squad. The youngest anyone’s every made

                          it was 23.

Matt Casey: You.

Kelly Severide: I think Mills can break the record. And I talked

                          to Chief Walker over at District, and he thinks it

                          would be great for CFD morale.

Matt Casey: Is that what you think, Chief? Great for morale?

Chief Boden: As long as he qualifies.

Matt Casey: Well, sounds like you guys have all the answers.

                                              cutscene

Peter Mills: You wanted to see me, Chief?

Chief Boden: As you’re aware, Lieutenant Severide thinks

                       that you’ll make a strong addition to Rescue

                       Squad.

                                          [door closes]

Peter Mills: Yes.

Chief Boden: I just want to hear your take on it.

Peter Mills: I’m gonna bust my ass to make it happen.

Chief Boden: Why?

Peter Mills: I’m sorry?

Chief Boden: Why’s it so important to you?

Peter Mills: ‘Cause I want to be an elite firefighter, sir.

Chief Boden: And this has got nothing to do with your

                       father?

Peter Mills: No, sir.

                    This has nothing to do with what my father did

                     or did not do with his time at the CFD. This is

                     about me

Chief Boden: Well, since you’ve been here you’ve put on ten

                        pounds. Which, from where I sit, doesn’t look

                        like a candidate willing to bust his ass.

                        [slurps]

                                             [door closes]

Gabby Dawson: Hey, how’s it going?

Peter Mills: Been better.

Gabby Dawson: You need me to take care of someone? Give

                             me a name.

Peter Mills: Not now.

                                               cutscene

Matt Casey: Heather Darden and me, we’re just friends. She

                      came over to talk and fell asleep on my couch.

Kelly Severide: Right. Got it.

Matt Casey: I don’t know what you want me to say here.

Kelly Severide: I saw what I saw, Casey. Sell your clean whistle

                          act to someone else, ‘cause I ain’t buying.

Matt Casey: You can’t imagine you might be wrong about

                      something, can you?

Kelly Severide: I can imagine a lot of things, just not the idea

                          of you rolling around with Andy’s widow.

Matt Casey: Come on.

Kelly Severide: Explain to me why Heather barely talks to me,

                          but she’ll sleep with you, even though you’re

                          the guy who put her husband through that

                          window?

                                            [gunshots]

                                            [shouting]

                                       [glass shattering]

Firefighter: Get down!

                    Get down!

                                            [gunshots]

Christopher Herrmann: What the hell is going on in here?

                                        [tires squealing]

Chief Boden: You okay?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Chief Boden: Casey, are you okay?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Chief Boden: What the hell is going on here, Detective? This

                        has always been a neighbourhood house.

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): You tell me. No run-ins recently? No

                                         fires where one of your guys tried to

                                         pop off to the local…

Chief Boden: No.

Christopher Herrmann: We’re not cops. People are happy to

                                         see a firefighter show up.

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): Could this be Voight related?

Matt Casey: Voight?

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): When it comes to gang violence, the

                                         man has a long reach. He’s got a

                                         dismissal hearing soon.

Matt Casey: Not like Voight to stir up the nest if he’s trying to

                      free himself.

Joe Cruz: Man, why don’t you pick up one of these bangers

                  for something small and trade the bust for what

                  they know about the shooters?

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): Corner boys in this neighbourhood

                                         are good. We can’t catch them with

                                         the drugs and make the bust stick.

                                         We’ll keep our ears to the ground.

                                         In the meantime, I’ll make sure we

                                         have a conspicuous police presence

                                         around the station.

Chief Boden: Meaning what?

Man 1 (Det. Ben Vikan): Put a special detail on it. Squad

                                         outside. Officer posted in the 

                                         house.

Firefighters: [muttering in disagreement]

Chief Boden: Well, that’s fine. So long as the men are safe.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs]

Chief Boden: What?

Christopher Herrmann: Cops in the house is a bad precedent.

                                        Sends a message to the good residents

                                        around here that… we’re not a safe

                                        haven.

Mouch: You rather have one of us be killed?

Christopher Herrmann: Of course not.

Chief Boden: We will let the police handle their business, and

                        we… will handle ours.

Joe Cruz: [sighs]

                                          cutscene

                                [police radio chatter]

Otis Zvonecek: Never seen anything like this before.

Joe Cruz: So much for being the neighbourhood’s house.

                                     [engine starts]

                                   [dramatic music]

                                         cutscene

Lady 2 (Barista): Here you go.

Leslie Shay: Thanks.

Kelly Severide: Thanks.

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Kelly Severide: Hey, any word on that kid pulled out of the

                           laundry chute?

Leslie Shay: I haven’t heard anything yet.

                      Hey, what’s going on with you and Casey? It

                      seemed like…

Kelly Severide: Oh, I don’t… I don’t want to talk about Casey.

Leslie Shay: Okay, fine. We’ll just enjoy watching you two

                      mark your territory.

Kelly Severide: Ah…

Leslie Shay: So what do you want to talk about?

Kelly Severide: So how would this work? With the, um…

                           insemination?

Leslie Shay: Well… basically, you know, I’d get a hormone

                      injection once a day for 12 days to boost

                      ovulation, then we’d go to a clinic where they

                      have rooms set aside for collection. Meaning

                      you know, they give you magazines or

                      whatever and you go in and do your business.

Kelly Severide: I mean, I get that part

                                         [chuckling]

Kelly Severide: How much does it cost?

Leslie Shay: Uh, all-in, 10 grandish.

Kelly Severide: 10 grand, are you serious?

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Kelly Severide: You have that kind of cash?

Leslie Shay: I’m gonna stretch some card limits and cobble

                      it together.

Kelly Severide: I’m in.

                                            [laughter]

                                            cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: What?

Mouch: You picked him up first?

Christopher Herrmann: Just get in.

Mouch: Now I gotta stare at the back of your head for an

              hour?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Mouch: Guess it’s better than getting shot at at the

              firehouse.

Boden & Herrmann: [laughs]

                                               [laughter]

Chief Boden: So I come home, try to climb in through the

                        window, but it’s shut. It’s locked.Oh, okay. I

                        thought I got a clean getaway, but no. Now

                        I gotta go around and ring on the damn

                        doorbell.

                                                [laughter]

Chief Boden: My old man, he’s just sitting in his chair.

                       Waiting for me. For hours.

Mouch: 3 o’clock in the morning.

Chief Boden: Alcohol on my breath

Mouch: Ooh! [laughs]

Chief Boden: He just stares at me, hard as nails. He says,

                       “boy, you got four choices where you’re going

                        to college… Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines…

                        pick one.”

Mouch: Wow.

Chief Boden: [scoffs]

Christopher Herrmann: At least your old man gave a damn.

Mouch: Oh, Bill Herrmann wasn’t so bad. I’m friends with

              Chris’s older brother, Larry. Your dad would throw

               the ball with us when he was home.

Christopher Herrmann: Larry did not disappoint him the way

                                         that I did.

Chief Boden: You never told me about your dad.

Christopher Herrmann: Aw, sold luggage to department

                                        stores all over the Midwest. He

                                        was on the road more than he

                                         was home.

Chief Boden: Is that right?

Christopher Herrmann: He wanted me to chase him into

                                         the business like my brother

                                         Larry did, so naturally I took the

                                         fireman’s test.

                                               [chuckling]

Christopher Herrmann: They got this whole thing…

                                         Larry and my dad.

                                         I don’t talk to him that much

                                         anymore.

Mouch: You should call him.

Christopher Herrmann: I should. It’d be that much worse

                                         when he didn’t call me back.

                                            cutscene

Gabby Dawson: [panting]

Peter Mills: What are you doing here?

Gabby Dawson: Maybe being quiet and keeping to

                            yourself is how it works in the Mills

                            family, but that’s not how the Dawsons

                             Dawsons do it.

Peter Mills: Is that so?

Gabby Dawson: Look, if you want to fly solo, you better do it

                             in bed with your eyes closed, okay? But if

                             you want to train for Squad, you better get

                             ready to talk while you run, ‘cause I’m

                             coming with you.

                             Hey. I want to be a part of whatever comes your

                             way.

Peter Mills: Well, then you better tie your shoes first.

Gabby Dawson: Oh!

Peter Mills: [laughs]

Gabby Dawson: [laughs] Oh I’m gonna get you!

                                          cutscene

Chief Boden: This is the right time, right?

Christopher Herrmann: Paper said 3:30.

                             [organ playing in background]

Christopher Herrmann: Excuse me, is this the Pritchard

                                         funeral?

Man 2 (Mortician): Yes. Yes, we’re about to get underway.

Christopher Herrmann: Oh.

Man 2 (Mortician): Have a seat.

Mouch: Thanks.

Chief Boden: Thanks.

Christopher Herrmann: Are you kidding me with this? Didn’t

                                         he have, like, five sons?

Mouch: Yeah.

Christopher Herrmann: Where’s his family?

Man 3 (Preacher): Welcome, friends. We’re all here today not

                                to grieve but to celebrate the life of…

                                John Aaron Pritchard. Matthew 5:4 says,

                                “Blessed are they who mourn for they

                                shall be comforted.”

Mouch: Let’s get outta here.

Chief Boden: Amen.

Christopher Herrmann: So, like, I mean, that’s it? I mean

                                         what… half a dozen people, and

                                         no family, and a preacher who

                                         doesn’t even know his name

                                         without looking at the program?

                                         And where’s the truck with a half-

                                         raised ladder and salute to a fallen

                                         firefighter?

Chief Boden: Chris…

Christopher Herrmann: No, I’m serious. What’s my funeral

                                         gonna be like when I kick it? Or

                                         yours, Mouch, huh?

Mouch: Doubt I’ll care.

Christopher Herrmann: All the same, he deserved a funeral

                                         with respect for all of his service.

                                         And just because he waited a dozen

                                         years to die and moved out to the

                                         sticks doesn’t mean that he wasn’t a

                                         hero.

Chief Boden: Let’s go.

Mouch: Shotgun!

Christopher Herrmann: This… this ain’t right! Grr!

                                               cutscene

                               [indistinct police radio chatter]

Matt Casey: Any word on the shooters?

Uniformed Cop: Nada.

Matt Casey: How was the funeral?

Christopher Herrmann: What’s worse than terrible? It

                                         was that.

Peter Mills: [groans]

Otis Zvonecek: What?

Peter Mills: Oven’s busted.

Christopher Herrmann: What? Blender is too.

                                                [buzzing]

Joe Cruz: Bad news. Remember that kid from last shift?

                  Trapped in the laundry chute?

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah?

Joe Cruz: Didn’t make it.

Gabby Dawson: He came here, this kid. He was here on a

                            class field trip.

                            He told his mom he wanted to be a fireman

                            when he got home.

Peter Mills: Wow, I recognise him. It was my first day. You

                    guys had me give the tour.

Otis Zvonecek: [exhales] Man I remember that.

Joe Cruz: Funeral’s on Friday.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey pop, it’s Christopher. Just…

                                         checking in. I know it’s been a

                                         while, and… anyway just call

                                         me back.

                                                 cutscene

Kelly Severide: You know what the worst part is?

Matt Casey: What is the worst part, Kelly?

Kelly Severide: That you don’t have enough sack to

                           admit you’re sleeping with Heather.

                           At least come clean.

Matt Casey: Keep walking. I’m done explaining myself.

Kelly Severide: You haven’t explained a damn thing!

                           That’s the point!

Matt Casey: ‘Cause you’re wrong!

                      Don’t come up on me again like this.

Kelly Severide: Really?

Chief Boden: What the hell is going on here?

                        In my office, now.

                                           [object clatters]

Chief Boden: We’ve been here before. Almost tore

                        this house apart.

Kelly Severide: This time, it’s different.

Chief Boden: Tell me about it.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, Casey, tell him about it.

Matt Casey: No offense, Chief.

                                          [door shuts]

                                            cutscene

Leslie Shay: So what do you think about the whole

                      Casey/Heather thing?

Gabby Dawson: Uh… I don’t know.

Leslie Shay: Hmm. You haven’t asked him?

Gabby Dawson: We’ve said like two sentences to each

                            other in a month.

                            Hey, what’s your name?

Man 4: Phillip.

Gabby Dawson: [laughs] All right, let’s get you up, Phillip.

                            Come on.

                            Here we go [groans]

Leslie Shay: Whoa!

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Leslie Shay: Phillip, that is not the kind of full moon I was

                      expecting to see today.

Gabby Dawson: [laughs]

Leslie Shay: Come on.

Gabby Dawson: Here we go.

Leslie Shay: All right, keep your pants up.

Gabby Dawson: Whew! So Severide’s, uh, little swimmers,

                             huh?

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: And who’s paying for this?

Leslie Shay: [sighs] I don’t know.

Gabby Dawson: You know, there’s another, cheaper alternative.

Leslie Shay: Oh, come on.

Gabby Dawson: What? I’m just saying.

Leslie Shay: Oh boy.

Gabby Dawson: Nature has already worked out a lot of these

                            details.

                            Come on. Oh!

                                      [engine revving]

                                      [tires squealing]

                                       [horn beeping]

Leslie Shay: (into radio) I need a 10-1 to East Van Buren, now!

Dispatcher: (over radio) What’s the nature of the call?

Leslie Shay: (into radio) Someone’s stealing our ambulance!

                                       [horn beeping]

                                     [tires screeching]

Gabby Dawson: Hey!

Man 5 (Thief): What the hell?

Gabby Dawson: Pull over!

Man 5 (Thief): Shut up!

Gabby Dawson: You can’t steal an ambulance!

Man 5 (Thief): I said shut up!

Gabby Dawson: Listen to me, moron!

Man 5 (Thief): Quit talking to me!

                                     [horn honking]

Gabby Dawson: This ambulance has GPS. They can track us in

                             the city so they know where we’re at at all

                             times. When you hear the beep that means

                             that they’re about to shut down the engine!

Man 5 (Thief): What are you talking about?

Gabby Dawson: They’re gonna turn off the engine, lock up the

                             tires, and send your face flying through the

                             windshield.

                                       [sirens approaching]

Man 5 (Thief): That ain’t true!

                                      [police sirens wailing]

Gabby Dawson: Here it comes!

                                               [beeping]

Gabby Dawson: You should buckle up!

                                       [beeping continues]

Man 5 (Thief): Damn it!

                                         [tires screeching]

Gabby Dawson: [heavy breathing]

Man 5 (Thief): [groans]

                                            [siren whoops]

Gabby Dawson: Somebody call for an ambulance?

Leslie Shay: Come on, Philip.

                                                 cutscene

Leslie Shay: Hey.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

                                             [door closes]

Leslie Shay: [clears throat] I know this may not be the best time,

                      um, but I have a new proposal. So please don’t

                      say anything or make any funny faces.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

Leslie Shay: Okay. Uh… I can’t afford the insemination. So I’ve

                      been thinking about Plan B. And I propose…

                      when the time is right, you go into your room with

                      magazines or Skinemax or whatever you need to

                      get yourself ready. And then with the lights out,

                      you signal me by calling out my name once. You’ll

                      hear your door open, footsteps. And… and then

                      you’ll be mounted. You will finish your business

                      inside of me as quickly and efficiently as possible.

                      And then I’ll be out the door, so you can clean up

                      or whatever you need to do. At which point, I will

                      need to be alone. Most likely to cry. And we will

                      never speak of this to anyone ever [chuckles] for

                      the rest of our lives. And… I thank you for

                      listening. Just think about it.

                                         [door shuts]

                                           cutscene

Gabby Dawson: [sighs]

                                      [phone buzzing]

Gabby Dawson: Here we go. Here we go.

                            Sit. Sit.

Mouch: What the hell are you doing?

Christopher Herrmann: I’m not standing near any windows.

Mouch: Well, it ain’t exactly easy to watch the ballgame with

              you staring back at me.

              You think the shooters are going to text you before

               they open fire?

Christopher Herrmann: I broke down and called my old

                                         man. I got nothing back.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs] Mills, what’s for lunch?

Peter Mills: Oh, um, I was bringing in some beef tips but I

                     don’t think they’re gonna taste that good raw,

                     so, uh, we can do some pimento cheese

                     sandwiches…

Joe Cruz: How about Al’s beef?

Peter Mills: Okay, all right. We’ll do Al’s beef.

Matt Casey: Call it in.

Peter Mills: I will. All right.

Mouch: Oh Otis!

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah?

Mouch: Uh, saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi.

Otis Zvonecek: Seriously, up yours, Mouch.

Mouch: [chuckles] Hey, you know who knows how to

              translate that? Andrew Jackson [laughs]

Chief Boden: Dawson, where’s Shay?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, I don’t know.

Chief Boden: This is Tara Little. She’s a candidate. She’s

                       gonna be riding along with you guys for the

                       next few shifts for evaluation.

Gabby Dawson: Cool.

Lady 3 (Tara Little): Hey, so nice to meet you. I’ve heard

                                 a lot about you.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, don’t pay any attention to what these

                            guys have to say. Especially Frick and

                            Frack over here.

Lady 3 (Tara Little): Oh, which one’s Frick?

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] Come on.

Matt Casey: What’s that?

Peter Mills: Oh, it’s… yeah I keep the cooking club cash

                     hidden here. That-that’s cool, right?

Matt Casey: Yeah. Yeah it-it’s fine. I’ll get the food.

Peter Mills: No, I don’t mind. I’ll grab it.

Matt Casey: I got it.

                                      [car door shuts]

Matt Casey: I want to talk to whoever’s in charge.

Young Man 1 (Dealer): Nah, get back in your truck.

Matt Casey: Not a cop. Not armed.

Young Man 1 (Dealer): Nah man, get back in your truck.

Matt Casey: I just want to talk.

                                 [game sounds on TV]

Young Man 1 (Dealer): [clears throat]

                                         [door closes]

Matt Casey: You in charge?

Young Man 2 (Greshawn): Who wants to know?

Matt Casey: My name’s Casey. I’m the Lieutenant at

                      Firehouse 51 down the street.

Young Man 2 (Greshawn): So?

Matt Casey: Someone tried to pop a couple shots into our

                      house in broad daylight. Could have killed

                      someone. Someone who works to protect

                      this neighbourhood every single day. Now I

                      know why. You guys hide your drugs in the

                      hydrants, don’t you?

                      Look, we have to flush those hydrants twice

                      a year. Otherwise one of these buildings is

                      on fire… yours maybe. It burns down

                      because there’s no water in our hoses. You

                      know, I’m not stupid enough to think that

                       you’re gonna give up selling your junk

                       because I come in here, but I’m telling you,

                       you hide it in the hydrants, it’s gonna get

                       flushed.

Young Man 2 (Greshawn): You done?

Matt Casey: No. Like it or not, we all gotta coexist here,

                      right? This is our neighbourhood. You

                      don’t own it.

                                          [door closes]

                                             cutscene

Leslie Shay: Hey. Guess what?

Kelly Severide: What’s up?

Leslie Shay: Well, my dad just called. He’s gonna pay

                      for the insemination. Says he was

                      worried that he’d never be a grandpa.

Kelly Severide: That’s great.

Leslie Shay: Yeah. So you know, back to Plan A.

                                           cutscene

                                [indistinct radio chatter]

Otis Zvonecek: You know what? Fine.

Mouch: Saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi.

              Creditors have better memories than

              debtors.

                                        [train passing]

Mouch: Hey, Lieutenant, okay if we make a quick

              stop. Won’t take long, I promise.

Matt Casey: Sure.

Mouch: Cruz, take a right here.

Matt Casey: This is the right place?

Mouch: This is it.

Christopher Herrmann: Aw, come on Mouch. What

                                        is this?

Mouch: Just wait. I want you to see this.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Man 6: Randy! How are you?

Mouch: What do you say, Larry?

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): Good to see you man. Hey.

                                           Chris.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, Larry, how you been?

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): You’re not getting away with

                                           a handshake. Come here,

                                           little brother.

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, good to see you.

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): [chuckles] All right.

                                           Hey.

Christopher Herrmann: Hey. Wow you guys have grown.

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): Yeah. How long has it been since

                                           you’ve been here?

Christopher Herrmann: I… don’t remember. Uh, dad around?

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): No, he’s in Boston. He’s supposed

                                           to be selling socks to Filene’s

                                           basement, but he’s probably

                                           already in line for bleacher seats at

                                           Fenway. Randy called and said you

                                           were down about dad. So come on.

                                           There’s something you should see.

Man 6 (Larry Herrmann): You should hear him talk about his

                                           son the firefighter. I can’t get him

                                           to shut up about it.

                                                  cutscene

                                          [dishes clattering]

Chief Boden: Okay.

                        Mrs Leppert.

Lady 1 (Mom/Mrs Leppert): Chief.

                                                Hello. I’m sorry to bother you.

Chief Boden: No, not at all. We’re all very sorry about your

                       son.

Lady 1 (Mom/Mrs Leppert): Thank you. You may know he was

                                                here once. And… he wanted to

                                                be a fireman ever since. Anyway,

                                                he would have been happy to

                                                know you guys were there at the

                                                end. And he would have wanted

                                                you to have this. Thank you for

                                                what you do in this

                                                neighbourhood.

Chief Boden: Thank you.

                        We owe this kid. We owe Taye better than this.

                         We are better than this.

                                              [somber music]

Christopher Herrmann: I have an idea.

Chief Boden: Ten-hut!

Chief Boden: Present arms!

                                               - end -

Definitions:

Saikensha wa saimusha yori kioku yoshi = Creditors have better memories than debtors

Hope springs eternal = Said when you continue to hope that something will happen, although it seems unlikely

10-1 = Fireman/firemen needs emergency help

Frick and Frack = English slang term used to refer to two people so closely associated as to be indistinguishable

Filene’s Basement = Department store company

Ten-hut = Come to attention!

[girlboss-molina]

Be Who You Are (No Compromise)

A Julie and the Phantoms Modern Royalty AU

Chapter 2: A Tale of Punches and Pancakes

AO3 Link

Words: 9389

-----

Alex POV

...

The jet ride was nice from a glance, but insufferable for Alex. His wish to leave his anxieties in Tambor? Yeah, he knew that was bullshit. As the miles passed, his stomach bubbled and knotted more and more until he had no room for the small wrapped chocolates in the dish at the back of the plane. The fluffy clouds seemed to taunt him with their serenity, making him feel out of place with his disgust, anxiety, and anger. 

Why, why, did he have to be put in an arranged goddamn marriage when he was nineteen? The gods hated him, for sure. 

He was back to considering options in his fake-your-death-to-get-out-of-it plan when Luke finally broke the silence.

“Dude, you okay?”

“Have a guess.” The sarcasm in his voice was tangible. 

“Yes?”

“Have another guess.” Alex barely smiled at Luke’s laugh. “I just… I hate this. Julie’s awesome, dude, she’s one of my best friends. But I don’t want to marry her.”

“I feel you,” Luke responded. “I really, really want to get you out of it.”

“Thanks.” Alex went back to staring at the clouds.

…

As the plane touched down, the rumbling shook up the nerves in Alex’s stomach, and he had to shut his eyes and focus on his breathing and the feeling of Luke’s hand on his. He did his best not to crease his vest as he leaned over, holding on tight. 

When he felt the motion in his ears stop, he carefully opened his eyes, relieved when he wasn’t nauseous. Of course, he couldn’t get rid of the anxiety. 

They’d landed in the runway behind the Dahlia palace, and thankfully, the small amount of vision he had out his plane window only showed the back of the palace and, on the other side, the tall, forested mountains in which he and Julie had run around in many times when they were younger. The scene was calming, and settled his nerves. 

As the doors opened, sending a crisp blast of cold Dahlian air in his face, the familiar smell of petrichor and honey reminded him of when he and Julie would run for hours, climbing trees as high as they could, despite Ray’s constant warnings and pleas for them to be careful. How simple it would be, really, to run out the plane door and across the runway until he was back, surrounded by the branches. It would be a nightmare, of course; he barely knew how to make a fire, which was definitely a skill he would need if he were to survive on his own in the cool Dahlian climate. Surely he could figure it out, though. It couldn’t be that hard. And the motivation of not having to act straight for the rest of his life would certainly help. He wondered just how fast he could run-

He was jolted back to reality by Luke excitedly hitting his shoulder. 

“Your highness, as your Royal Best Dude™ I am legally required to get you up and moving so that you don’t start spiraling. Plus, I’m hungry.” Alex rolled his eyes and laughed despite himself. 

He wasn’t going through this alone.  

…

He should’ve expected the cameras, really. But the bright flashes startled him as soon as he stepped out of the plane, and he had to quickly struggle to compose himself. He gave small smiles and respectful waves, walking across the long runway to the limousine waiting for him. He would be making a round past the palace gates before formally entering the palace from the front. So he climbed into the lush leather seats, with Erik and Luke right behind him, and sat down, squeezing his hands into fists and then running his fingertips over the indents from his nails. 

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as he tapped his foot. He wouldn’t admit it, but the feeling of Luke’s and Erik’s hands on his shoulders helped. A lot. Tension melted away from him, and while he was still nervous, he somehow managed to stand and steadily walk out of the limo, a smile breaking out on his face as he saw Julie. 

Alex wasn’t sure why he was surprised at how beautiful Julie was, there really was no paralleling her beauty. And yet, his heart swelled with pride at seeing her elegant violet dress, embroidered with dahlias. 

“Alex, why the hell do you walk so fast?” asked Luke, breathing heavily and trying to keep up. 

“I’m gay. Next question.” 

“That’s fair.” 

As he ran to Julie, Alex was so caught up in the euphoria of seeing his friend in person that, for a moment, he lived in a world where the paparazzi wasn’t a thing. But he didn’t care. Julie saw him and ran through the gardens, a huge grin visible from hundreds of feet away. She ran to him, her gown flowing in the breeze, and as soon as they were within a few feet of each other, Julie jumped and Alex let out an “oof” as he caught her in a hug, spinning around and laughing.

“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, and Alex nodded.

“Yeah, you too! Even though we, you know, FaceTimed last night.”

“Eh, details. Besides, the press wants a happy reunion.”

“Fair.”

“How was the plane ride?” 

“Amazing,” Alex said. “Nothing better than being on the edge of a panic attack while you’re thousands of feet in the air.”

“I’ll fight your anxiety,” Julie decided. “Tell it to meet me behind the Denny’s tonight.” Alex snorted. 

“I’d rather you didn’t punch my brain. I kinda need it.”

“Do you?” Alex gasped in mock offense.

“Okay, rudeness aside, I think this is the part where we walk around the garden and pretend we don’t know there are photojournalists hiding behind the bushes.” Julie nodded and took his arm.

As they strolled around the gardens, the aroma of flowers settled some of Alex’s nerves. He never turned around to make sure Luke was there, but he somehow knew. It was the Royal Best Dude™ telepathy, probably. And Erik was probably bringing his suitcase up to wherever he would be staying. So, Alex did his best to relax and hang out with his friend.

“Ava’s going to be ascending soon,” he noted. “She’s pumped. Though I’m not sure how good of an idea it is to let a twenty-three year old run a country.” Julie laughed.

“I’m happy for her! And I’m sure she’ll be fine. She knows how to party, for sure, but she’s also responsible. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, I’ll let my anxiety know.” Julie burst out laughing, and Alex soon followed. 

“Her Royal Majesty, Queen Ava Mercer of Tambor,” Julie said. “It has a nice ring to it.” Alex nodded. 

“Yeah. I’m excited for her, too. All jokes aside, I think she’ll make a great queen.”

“Definitely.”

A few moments passed, including Julie gently picking a rose from the garden, one with a pale pink coloring, and sticking it behind Alex’s ear. When it wouldn’t stay, she scrunched her nose and carefully tucked it into the breast pocket of his vest. 

“You look absolutely dashing, your highness,” she said with a fake, posh accent. Alex giggled and rolled his eyes. 

“You’re a dork.”

“I know.” 

…

His room was really something. 

After he and Julie had finished their walk around the gardens, they’d given each other cordial bows (of course tied with a friendly wink, because they were just Like That), and Erik had shown him up to his quarters. Luke followed, and Alex noticed his cheeks were considerably red. 

It was chillier in Dahlia than it was in Tambor, though, and Luke had never been Plus, a breeze had flown in during the last ten minutes of their walk, on which Luke was shadowing. He was probably flushed from the cold air. 

He was down the hall from Julie’s room, in one of the guest rooms he’d used when playing hide-and-seek with Julie when they were kids. But it had been completely refurbished, since he would be staying there for a few months.

The soft carpet was a creamy tan, and the large, full-length mirrors let in sunlight that cast gentle shadows from the posters on the giant bed, which was adorned with blue sheets and pillows, with gold and pink accents. The dark, forest green walls gave the room a soothing effect, and the twinkling fairy lights were like fireflies in a meadow. A crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the ceiling, glittering with diamonds and gold. A mahogany record player sat on a media table, along with wireless chargers for his phone and laptop, next to the sliding door that led to a huge bathroom. The tiles were light tan and grey, peppered with flecks of quartz that shimmered in the light. A giant tub sat near a tinted window, as well as a vanity with a majestic painted mirror. The shower could’ve fit his entire bed.

Even though he wasn’t keen on marrying Julie, he wouldn’t dislike his stay here. 

“Dude,” Luke whispered. “Your room is awesome.” 

“I know, right? Definitely nicer than my room in Tambor.” 

As Alex went to his giant suitcase full of neatly folded clothes, beginning to tuck them into drawers and onto hangers, Luke helped out. 

“So,” Alex began, breaking the silence. “How are you liking Dahlia so far?”

“It’s great! Kinda cold, but I’ll get used to it. And… Julie seems really nice.”

Alex definitely didn’t miss Luke’s blush when he mentioned the princess, and his lips raised into a smirk.

“Yeah, she is. You should get to know her at dinner tonight.” Luke cleared his throat.

“Uh, yeah. Definitely.”

“You good?”

“Totally,” he insisted, though his voice rose an octave and Alex couldn’t suppress his laugh. 

“Sure.”

…

The dinner was incredible. Platters of roast beef sat next to giant bowls of mashed potatoes, and the bread appetizers were soft and delicious. And, even though he was legally allowed to have alcohol based on Dahlian laws, he thought better of it, instead filling his glass with water. He noticed that Julie did the same. 

“Not a fan of wine?” he asked. 

“Nah, not really. It always gives me a stomachache.” 

“Same.”

Alex went back to his food, before noticing a man around his age eyeing him. He had dark hair and was dressed in a red vest and dark grey shirt. He seemed quite kind, if the small smile on his face had any say.

“That’s your brother, Reggie, right? I think I’ve only met him once.”

Julie followed Alex’s gaze. “Oh yeah! You would get along great, I think.”

“Cool.”

…

Before dessert was brought up, everyone in the grand hall got to mingle for about twenty minutes and let their food settle. Alex let Julie introduce him to Reggie, with whom he immediately hit it off. 

“No way, you play the drums?” Reggie asked. “I’ve always wanted to learn, but I’m no good.”

“Yeah, I do! You said you play bass?”

“Yep!”

“That’s awesome, dude.”

Their conversation lasted a bit longer, and Alex felt confident that he and Reggie would be good friends, especially because of his lighthearted demeanor, and their bro-hug before Alex was pulled away to talk to another nobleman. 

He was bounced around like a ping-pong ball, being chatted up by guest after guest. Soon, though, he needed some air, so he searched to room for King Ray.

“Your majesty?” he asked, jogging over. Ray turned to him and gave a warm smile, shaking his hand.

“Hello, Alex. You can call me Ray. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, thanks. I was just wondering if I could sneak out the back for a moment? I need some air.” Ray laughed.

“Of course, son. I told them to give you some space,” he noted, guestering to the nobles, “but I doubt they were able to contain their excitement.” Alex nodded, grateful for Ray’s chill vibes. “Try to be back in ten minutes?”

“Of course.”

Ray nodded and patted his shoulder, and Alex stepped through the back door of the grand hall, grateful when he didn’t see anyone. He took a deep breath, fiddling with the hem of his vest. 

A voice caught his ear. 

“-yeah, don’t worry, Alyssa. The mousse is in the refrigerator-” 

Alex whirled around, searching for whoever had spoken, but before he could…

WHAM. 

A cold rush of air blew from behind him as a door opened, and someone ran into him.

Hard.

Alex stumbled forward, trying to catch himself but to no avail. His momentum swung him forward, leaving him on the ground. 

“Whoa!” he started, looking at the person who’d ran him over, and…

Oh fuck, he thought. He’s hot. 

“Agh, sorry, I really need to watch where I’m-” the man cut off, his cheeks flushing. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, your highness.” He scrambled into a bow, and Alex blushed. 

“No, you’re good, bro.” 

Alex got a good look at him, and felt his cheeks flush. He had long, silky brown hair that fell over his shoulders in waves, and smooth brown skin that had darkened in a blush. His dark eyes were kind and playful, adorned with long eyelashes. 

Alex inhaled slowly, trying to ignore the rising gay panic. 

“Are you okay?” the man asked. 

“I’m fine, yeah. Thanks. Just trying to clear my head. Until you, you know, tried to crack it open.” To Alex’s surprise, the man giggled, and holy fuck, if he wasn’t already adorable, that would’ve been the tipping point. Creases folded at the corners of his eyes, and his perfect smile turned lopsided as he laughed. 

“I did pancake you, huh?” Alex tried to laugh, and the man cleared his throat. “Sorry. Oh, uh, I’m Willie. It’s nice to meet you.”

Alex reached for his hand. “Alex,” he greeted, still hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. 

“Well, I’d better make sure we’re clear to bring up dessert. But I’ll see you around, your royal pancakeness,” Willie said with a grin, spinning on his heel and going back to the kitchens. Alex nodded, even though he was already gone. 

-----

Julie POV

...

As soon as Alex’s plane touched down, Julie couldn’t hide her excitement. She rushed through her photos, and as soon as she could see him, she took off running, a huge grin on her face. The silky fabric of her dress flapped against her shins, and she sprinted even faster, ignoring the goosebumps on her arms. 

As soon as she reached him, she jumped into the hug, laughing as he spun her around. They might have FaceTimed the day before, but it just wasn’t the same as seeing him in person. He was one of her best friends, and the fact that they hadn’t seen each other in so long was frankly biphobic. 

But as she spun around, finally opening her eyes, Julie caught sight of Alex’s guard. She’d never formally met him, and she’d always thought he was cute, but wow. 

He had deep hazel eyes and pale skin, cheeks flushed from the cold, his wavy brown hair neatly styled, with a touch of personal flair. His chiseled jawline cast a shadow on his neck, and his biceps were visible through his dark jacket. Julie tried to look away and focus on her friend, because now was the literal worst time to develop a crush on someone she barely knew. 

Not that she had a crush on him, or anything. 

Julie forced those thoughts out of her head, and scolded her stupid heart for fluttering when she caught his gaze. She turned back to Alex, laughing when he insinuated that photojournalists would be hiding behind the bushes. 

“Ava’s going to be ascending soon,” Alex told her. “She’s pumped. Though I’m not sure how good of an idea it is to let a twenty-three year old run a country.” Julie laughed, silently agreeing.

“I’m happy for her! And I’m sure she’ll be fine. She knows how to party, for sure, but she’s also responsible. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, I’ll let my anxiety know.” Julie burst out laughing, soon followed by Alex.

“Her Royal Majesty, Queen Ava Mercer of Tambor,” she said, letting the words flow off her tongue. “It has a nice ring to it.” 

“Yeah. I’m excited for her, too. All jokes aside, I think she’ll make a great queen.”

“Definitely.” There wasn’t a doubt in her voice, either. 

Julie had met Ava when she was eight. Ava had been thirteen, and was the coolest thirteen-year-old ever, in little Julie’s opinion. She vaguely remembered hanging out in her room with her, and thinking she was just the coolest ever. Then again, she was an eight year old. To an eight year old, all thirteen-year-olds are cool (or gross, but we don’t talk about that).

Julie walked with Alex, chatting about random things, including plans to get out of the arranged marriage, each more complicated than the next. Julie couldn’t stop herself from laughing when Alex brought up his temptation to just run into the woods with no supplies or survival skills, and just be a gay forest cryptid. She was quite fond of it, to be honest. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t have any plans that didn’t involve either faking their deaths, or something treasonous, neither of which would be good. At least, not in anyone else’s opinions. 

…

After Alex went up to his room, Julie did the same, and immediately flopped on her bed, finally allowing herself to process her thoughts about, well, everything.

God, she wanted out of this marriage. She knew Alex did as well. They’d talked about it endlessly over FaceTime, texting, and just now, in person. But neither of them could come up with an actual plan or a good enough reason to halt it. Because, you know, the people actually getting married never get a say. 

Plus, it did not help that Alex’s guard, who she’d learned was named Luke, was really cute. She furrowed her brow. She’d never even had a real conversation with the guy. Not that it mattered, of course. She remembered when she was fifteen and had already decided that Nick Danforth-Evans was a sweetheart, even though she’d only had one real conversation with him. 

But this felt different somehow. She couldn’t help but feel like Luke was actually really nice. She just got those vibes from him. She cursed her stupid heart for making her feel things. No, Molina. There’s no such thing as liking a cute guard. 

It didn’t work. 

She stared at her ceiling, watching flecks of dust float around the air, and jumped when Flynn and Carrie walked into her room without knocking. It wasn’t like she actually expected them to knock, but she’d zoned out and the sudden sound took her by surprise. 

“I know that look,” Flynn said matter-of-factly. “What’s the crisis about?”

“What isn’t it about?”

“Uh uh, don’t try to deflect by answering my question with another question,” Flynn scolded, and Carrie bit back a laugh. 

“I just…” she searched for an excuse. “I love that Alex is here, but I don’t want to marry him,” she said, remembering that the best lies were based on the truth. “And he’s gay, so I know for a fact he doesn’t want to marry me. Plus, you know. We’ve expressed that multiple times. And I know there’s really nothing I can do about it, because it’s all arranged, and bitching about it does nothing to help, but honestly? I’m just feeling bitchy.” 

“As you should,” Carrie agreed, to Julie’s surprise. “If anyone deserves to be a little bitchy, it’s you. I mean, come on. You’re a teenage girl who never actually got a normal life because you’re frickin’ Princess Julie Molina, heiress to the throne of Dahlia. And you’re stuck in an arranged marriage with one of your best friends, and neither of you want it, but you can’t actually change it. I’d be bitchy too.”

“Thank you for summing that up,” Julie deadpanned. “But… it helps. Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“She’s right, Jules,” Flynn agreed. “Be the bitchy bisexual you deserve to be.” That elicited a laugh, and Julie couldn’t help but leave the smile resting on her face. 

“Alright,” she decided. “We have self-defense in half an hour, so we should get ready.” Flynn nodded and pulled Julie off of her bed, leading her to the giant walk-in closet, searching the hundreds of options, but steering clear from the gowns. 

Flynn and Carrie must’ve known she needed cheering up, because they sarcastically suggested the biggest, poofiest gowns Julie owned, tied with a tight shawl and the wobbliest heels imaginable. Julie laughed despite herself, especially since she could barely walk in the shoes they’d picked. She was also taller than six feet, which was a plus, but she would pick stability over height any day, especially when she was going to practice kicking people’s asses. 

Eventually, she settled on flexible black leggings with a purple stripe going down the outside of each leg, and a simple white tunic that starkly contrasted her dark skin. It was fitted but she could move easily in it, stretching into a backbend to make sure. 

She sighed and allowed Flynn and Carrie to take either arm and lead her downstairs to the training arena. 

…

The training arena was a huge room, the floors completely covered in mats, aside from the giant gymnastic trampolines at the far corner and the running track that traversed the perimeter. On the far side opposite the trampolines were sets of weights and treadmills, as well as other equipment like bars and benches. Punching bags were hung sporadically around the martial arts area, which was also used for tumbling and floor routines. 

Lady Athena gave a smile as they walked in, soon followed by Reggie and Mira. Lady Athena was a tall, muscular woman with silky black hair that was always in a high ponytail. Her bronze skin glittered with sweat, and her two-piece athleisure outfit left her chiseled abs on display. 

“Alright,” she said, clapping her hands. “Reggie, since you’re bigger, you’re with me. You four, pair up and practice your hand-to-hand skills. Remember the blocks we learned last week.” Julie nodded and paired with Flynn, immediately getting into position.

“Head’s up,” she warned with a smirk, before lunging with a punch that would’ve hit Flynn square in the chest if not for her catlike reflexes. She knocked Julie’s hand out of the way, and Julie had to twist to avoid Flynn’s counterattack, letting herself lean backwards. But when she almost fell, she used it to her advantage, hopping backwards onto one hand and spinning, tripping Flynn by kicking her feet out from under her. Before Flynn could recover, Julie pounced over her, grabbing her shirt collar and pulling her fist back, ready to attack. She didn’t follow through, obviously, but she knew she had good form. 

“Well done, your highness,” praised Lady Athena. Julie blushed.

“Thanks.”

“Whatever,” Flynn grumbled, and Julie laughed. “Rematch?”

“You’re on.”

…

Julie had defeated Flynn four times to two, and was feeling very confident. It must’ve helped, exercising, because her worries about Alex and Luke were far away as she battled Carrie and then Mira. Or, they were until a certain brunette guard walked in the room in a sleeveless shirt and shorts that showed off his muscles. 

She shouldn’t have let herself get distracted, though, because in her haze, Mira managed to throw her off balance and win their round. 

“Hah! That’s two each!” She outstretched her hand, which Julie gratefully accepted, pulling her up. 

“Good job,” she said, still distracted but keeping her eyes far away from Luke. 

“Hi, is this the self-defense lesson?” Luke asked, and Julie could no longer ignore him. 

“It is,” Lady Athena confirmed. “You’re Prince Alexander’s guard, correct?”

“And certified Royal Best Dude™,” he added with a grin that was so adorable it made Julie flush. By some miracle, nobody noticed. 

“Alright, why don’t you train with Reggie? He can show you what we’re working on. I need to go make sure nobody’s going to throw out their back at the weights.” With that, Lady Athena stalked off, her ponytail swaying behind her. 

Luke walked over to Reggie, and Julie did her best not to stare as Reggie guided Luke, and they began sparring. Luke was surprisingly agile, but he was too enthusiastic, reaching for every possible blow, not realizing where he left himself vulnerable. But his puppy eyes when Reggie defeated him were too cute. 

Julie cleared her throat and turned away. 

“Tiebreaker?” Mira nodded, and they went to sparring. Julie ducked and dodged every hit of Mira’s, even getting in a few herself, but she was thrown off when she heard Luke laugh, a musical, joyful sound, and Mira took advantage of her momentary slip, finally beating her. 

“Yes!” Mira jumped and pumped her fist, then helped Julie up. 

“Nice job!” Julie grinned with the words, high-fiving Mira. 

“Alright, break time.”

Julie walked to the edge of the wall where she’d left her water bottle and towel, almost choking on her water when she heard Luke’s voice behind her. 

“Your highness?” he asked shyly. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met.” Julie smiled and outstretched her hand, shaking Luke’s. “I’m Alex’s guard, Luke.”

“Hi! You can call me Julie,” she said with a smile, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too! Oh, by the way, great job during your fights. I saw your takedown on the other girl, the one with the braids.”

“Oh, that’s Flynn.”

“Cool. But yeah, I saw your fight, and that was really impressive. I doubt I could spin on one hand like you did.” 

Well.

If Julie hadn’t been blushing before, she certainly was now. At least Luke’s cheeks were only red because of the intense workouts. 

“It took me forever to get that move right,” she admitted. “I only just got it down, if I’m being honest. I still slip up sometimes, too.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he complimented. And oh, his smile really was a beautiful thing. 

“Alright, break time’s over,” called Lady Athena. “No more flirting.” Julie’s stomach dropped, and she inhaled, a denial already on her tongue, before she realized that her coach was looking at Flynn and Carrie, who were chatting animatedly, both blushing. 

She practiced a bit more with Carrie, doing her best to ignore the boy next to her. When the class finally ended, she hurriedly thanked Lady Athena before rushing up to shower.

Letting the hot water wash over her, she pondered how the hell Luke had wiggled his way into her heart so quickly within one conversation. 

Was she being brainwashed into liking a guy she barely knew?

Was this some elaborate trick that whatever higher being existed had orchestrated as a ploy to get her out of the arranged marriage?

… And more importantly, would it work? 

The thought made her laugh. Not that she didn’t slightly believe this was all some sort of elaborate trick to get her to commit treason and fall in love with someone she wasn’t supposed to, but it was funny nonetheless.

…

After she’d done her best to set the record for hottest, soapiest shower possible, Julie wrapped herself in a towel, massaging peach lotion into her skin, the scent matching her shampoo. As she rubbed it into her hands, she imagined what it would feel like holding Luke’s hand, before quickly banishing the thought away to the depths of simpy hell.

This was worse than she thought. 

She changed into her evening gown for the dinner, allowing Mira to lace up the back. It was all navy blue, a long strapless dress that reached her ankles, with a see-through tulle layer over top that went up to a sleeveless halter neckline, leaving the rest of the tulle layer to flow down neatly over the rest of the silky dress, which tightened at the waist. Tiny diamonds had been sewn into the tulle at her waist, high in concentration before gently tapering off the lower in the skirt they went.

“Okay,” Carrie said, walking in with Flynn beside her. “I think I speak for everyone when I say, damn. That dress is fine.” Flynn nodded enthusiastically. 

“I know, right?” Mira said excitedly. “I actually helped tailor this one! It was one of my favorites to make.”

“And for a good reason,” Julie agreed. “Mira, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Not quite,” she said, turning Julie towards the vanity. “I’m thinking we do something simple but elegant for your hair?”

“I vote for that,” Flynn interjected. 

“Sure!”

Mira set to work, combing through Julie’s hair with her fingers. Julie closed her eyes. She’d always loved the feeling of people playing with her hair, and as Mira wove her dark locks into two thick braids that soon joined together, letting the rest of her hair poof at the base of her neck, Julie was transported back to her mother’s room when she was five. She remembered the feeling of her mother braiding her hair like it was yesterday, the gentle tugs and nimble fingers on her scalp. It wasn’t the same with Mira, of course, but it was refreshing and comforting at the same time. 

“Hey, Jules?” Flynn called from her closet.

“Mm?”

“Mind if I steal that asymmetrical dress for tonight? The jade one,” she clarified. 

“Feel free!”

The dress in mind was a slim-fitting jade green dress that reached her knees, but the hem was cut asymmetrically, leaving one side longer than the other. It had golden ribbon-like threads spun around it with no particular rhyme or reason, and a built-in sash made of pale, spring green tulle roses. The thin straps showed off her shoulders, and when Flynn walked out with it on, Julie noticed Carrie blush.

“Dude, you look awesome,” Julie complimented. Flynn twirled, letting the light play off of the shimmery fabric.

“Thanks!”

Mira finished doing Julie’s hair, and held up a mirror for her to see. Julie admired the thick, smooth braids that gently rejoined at the base of her neck, letting the rest of her dark curls loose in an elegant fashion.

“It’s amazing, Mira! Thank you so much.”

“Of course! And thank you for letting me do it,” she said with a giggle. “Your hair is so fun to style.” Julie blushed. 

…

The dinner was rather uneventful, thankfully. Julie wasn’t sure if she would’ve had the energy to constantly be answering questions. Instead, though, she got to introduce people to each other, and relax and eat, and try to keep her eyes away from a certain hazel-eyed guard.

She was grateful for the relatively simple task.

-----

Luke POV

...

Luke had heard about the self-defense classes in the training arena, and he was itching to get moving, so he changed into workout clothes and headed down there. 

The spiral staircase was wide and glittered with colored glass, the silver banisters gleaming in the light. He trailed his hand down it as he made his way down.

When he reached the training arena, he closed the door behind him and went to set down his water bottle and towel- but not before noticing Julie.

At the self-defense class.

Thankfully, she didn’t see him. He hung back for a moment, watching as she sparred with another girl with long braids. The way she moved was incredible, like water flowing in a current, unpredictable and smooth. Of course, if anyone asked, he was most certainly not admiring it. He could silently appreciate her skills, though.

As she dodged hit after hit, throwing her own blocks and blows, it looked like the girl with braids had gotten the better of her, but as Julie leaned backwards, she hopped and - holy fuck - caught herself on one hand, spinning around in the air like some sort of ethereal breakdancer, and knocking the other girl’s feet out from under her, before pouncing, grabbing her shirt collar, and pulling back her fist, before freezing and laughing. 

Whoa. 

So not only was she a wicked beauty, Luke realized, she was a human wrecking ball, too. 

He cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from the beautiful badass in front of him, tuning out Lady Athena’s praise in favor of clearing his head before approaching to join. Not that it worked. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of Julie. The other three girls (and the guy, if he was being honest) were all stunningly fit and agile, but there was something about Julie that enchanted him. The way she was always smiling even in the middle of a training fight, how, even when she was defeated, she brushed it off with a laugh, how she was light on her feet like a cat as she dodged and spun, how she was needlessly extravagant with her self-defense and yet somehow always made it work. Maybe that’s just what princesses were like; even when defending themselves against possible attackers, they had to be as beautiful as ever. 

Of course, right now, Luke knew she didn’t look how she normally would, in her silky gowns and expertly styled hair. Now, she wore matching athletic clothes and had her hair pulled back into a ponytail, with some strands coming out in a sweaty frizz. And yet, that somehow just made her even more breathtaking. Even when she was sweaty and working out, she managed to look like an angel.

An angel who could easily kick his ass, he remembered as she pulled the upside-down-one-handed-breakdancer move again, this time on a redheaded girl he didn’t recognize. 

Before he could stop himself, he approached Lady Athena. 

“Hi, is this the self-defense lesson?” He asked the woman.  

“It is,” Lady Athena confirmed, and he nodded.. “You’re Prince Alexander’s guard, correct?”

“And certified Royal Best Dude™,” he added with a grin. He would never let go of that title.

“Alright, why don’t you train with Reggie? He can show you what we’re working on. I need to go make sure nobody’s going to throw out their back at the weights.” Luke nodded again as Lady Athena walked away.

He walked over to Reggie, shaking his hand.

“Hey, I’m Luke,” he introduced with a smile. Reggie shot one back.

“Reggie!”

“Nice to meet you! So, do we just… fight? I’m not sure how this is run here compared to in Tambor.” Reggie laughed. 

“Yeah, pretty much. You good at hand-to-hand?”

“I’m not bad,” he admitted. “But I’m no expert.” He couldn’t help looking at Julie. “Is she always that much of a badass?” Reggie followed his eyes to Julie. 

“Pretty much,” he said with a laugh, and Luke dearly hoped he wasn’t blushing.

“Good to know. In that case, if I introduce myself to her, how scared should I be?” He asked it with a smile and a joking tone, but he was actually a bit nervous. But, you know, just because he now knew that she could kick his ass seven ways to Sunday.

No other reason.

“Oh, don’t worry!” Reggie assured him. “She’s actually really nice. I’ve known her since she was eight,” he explained. Luke nodded, grateful for the reassurance.

“Alrighty then,” he said, hopping into a fighting stance. “Let’s get cracking.” 

…

By “let’s get cracking,” he was hoping he wouldn’t be cracking his ego, but he was sorely mistaken. Reggie didn’t seem like it, but he was really strong, and really good at fighting. Luke was more agile than him, and strength-wise he could compare, but the Dahlian style of fighting was so different from the Tamborian style. They were similar in many ways, of course; they had the same moves and strategies. But the ways they moved were so different, the ways they executed their moves had an uncanny grace and deadliness.

He did his best, reaching for every blow he could, trying to get the upper hand. And, to his credit, he won a few rounds. But he accidentally left himself vulnerable most of the time, leaving perfect opportunities for his opponent to strike, because Of Course He Did. 

When they called for a break, Luke wiped his forehead with a towel, grabbing a drink of water. Then, he swallowed the lump in his throat and approached Julie.

“Your highness?” he asked shyly. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met.” Luke tried not to blush when she smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Alex’s guard, Luke.”

“Hi! You can call me Julie,” she said with a gorgeous grin, and Luke knew he was a goner. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too! Oh, by the way, great job during your fights. I saw your takedown on the other girl, the one with the braids.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he mentally kicked himself. Not smooth, Patterson. What if she thought he was creepy? 

Thankfully, though, she smiled.

“Oh, that’s Flynn!”

“Cool,” he said, relieved. Nice and smooth, Patterson. “But yeah, I saw your fight, and that was really impressive. I doubt I could spin on one hand like you did.” He reached up and scratched the back of his neck nervously, and he couldn’t help but feel accomplished when Julie’s cheeks flushed. Of course, his were probably just as red, but hopefully he could blame it on the workout.

“It took me forever to get that move right,” she admitted. “I only just got it down, if I’m being honest. I still slip up sometimes, too.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he complimented with a smile. And it wasn’t a lie, either. 

“Alright, break time’s over,” called Lady Athena. “No more flirting.” Luke cleared his throat, getting ready to insist that he wasn’t flirting, before he realized that Lady Athen was looking at Flynn and another redheaded girl, who were chatting animatedly, both blushing. He sighed in relief. 

As he went back to sparring with Reggie, zoned out but fighting just as well as he was before, maybe even better, he pondered Julie’s abilities. How did she manage to be so beautiful, so graceful, and yet so kind and badass? It shouldn’t have been possible for any one human to do that all, much less a teenage girl who was already juggling the responsibilities of being a princess. 

Julie was, Luke realized, even more incredible than he’d ever thought possible.

…

All throughout the dinner, he was trying not to stare at Julie. Her dress was absolutely gorgeous, and the way she flitted around the room like a butterfly was absolutely ethereal. Tie that with the diamonds sewn into her navy blue dress that looked like fading stars and twinkled in the light, and she looked like she was wrapped in starlight. He knew it was appropriate for that star of a woman, but still, he thought it should’ve been illegal for anyone to have that effect on him. 

His cheeks were red, and he stared at his plate, inhaling the scent of roast beef and mashed potatoes, along with the aroma of warm bread from his appetizer. 

Even with the cool air of Dahlia and his thin shirt and suit vest, he was still sweating. He was absolutely gone for a girl he’d only had one conversation with, a girl he’d only known for a maximum of five hours. 

A girl who his best friend was being forced to marry. 

That was the worst part of all of this. His best friend, who would never be in love with Julie no matter how good of friends they were, had to marry her because of goddamn international relations, and there was nothing he could do about it. And, a selfish part of him thought, it means you never had a chance. He shoved the thoughts out of his head, hating the lingering ache they left in his heart. 

Not that he would’ve ever had a chance anyway. She was a beautiful, badass princess, and he was just a guard she didn’t even know. 

-----

Reggie POV

...

As soon as the plane landed on the runway behind the palace, Reggie smiled at Julie, letting go of her hand as she readied herself.

He understood her worry. No matter how close you are with someone, being set to marry them - especially when you didn’t want to - was daunting. Of course, he’d never been through the same thing, but he was always an empathetic person, and he could practically feel his own sister’s worry and ache.

He saw Prince Alexander walking to the gardens, and smiled when Julie broke into a grin, running to him. He twirled rose petals between his fingers, letting out a small laugh when she jumped into Alex’s arms. He didn’t want to seem like a helicopter brother, though, so he went back inside, leaving Jules with Prince Alexander. 

When he stepped inside, he nearly ran into Ray.

“Whoa, sorry!” Ray laughed. 

“You’re perfectly fine, mijo. Everything okay?” Reggie sighed.

“I’m just worried for Julie. I’ve never really gotten to know Prince Alexander, and-”

“I’ll stop you there,” Ray said. “Believe me, I know what you mean, and if I could stop it without huge consequences, I would. But Alex isn’t someone you need to worry about. That boy is one of the sweetest, kindest people I’ve ever met,” he assured him. “And while I know neither of them want to get married, I know that they’re both mature, and good friends.”

“Thanks,” Reggie sighed. “I just wish I could get her out of it, you know? I mean, that’s my little sister.”

“I understand,” the king agreed. “But unfortunately, there isn’t anything to be done other than let Alex settle in.” Reggie nodded glumly. “Hey, wasn’t there a progression you wanted to show me? On your bass?” Ray clarified. Reggie immediately lit up. 

“Yeah! Julie and I have been working on a song called Icarus, and she’s got a killer piano melody worked out. I went off of some of her chords and found a super cool progression on my bass that adds a really nice line underneath hers, and it sounds-” he did the chef’s kiss thing with his hand- “divine.”

“Alright, well now I’ve gotta see it!” Reggie’s grin lit up even more and he ran to his room, followed by Ray, who was jogging behind him. 

Reggie’s room was huge, the walls painted dark blue. He’d always found the color soothing. He snatched his red and white bass guitar from its stand, spinning on his heel as he ducked under the strap, letting it settle by his waist. 

When Ray met him there, Reggie grinned, plucking the strings animatedly until he remembered the notes. He didn’t bother grabbing his phone to try and find them from wherever he’d written them down in the endless scrolling of his notes app. Soon, though, his chaotic ADHD brain remembered, and he began excitedly plucking specific notes in a rhythmic pattern, his fingers stretching to reach each fret as he hopped from the E string to A, then G back to E and D. He smiled even brighter when he saw Ray grinning and tapping his foot to the beat.

“So, it kinda just goes like that, until we get to the chorus. Then, I come in with a little…” he slid his finger down the string, letting the note slide down before he hopped back into the rhythm, the same notes as before, but ordered differently, giving a new feel to the music. 

He hopped around, spinning as he played his bass, humming the lyrics under his breath.

“That sounds super cool, mijo!” Ray exclaimed, one eyebrow furrowed, as was custom for him whenever he was excited. Reggie hopped up and down happily, fixing the cuff of one of his sleeves. 

“Thanks! Julie and I are gonna try to record it. I’m trying to learn how to play the drums, to add a steady beat, but I can’t seem to figure it out.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it soon.” Reggie beamed. “I’m so sorry, mijo, I have to go. I’d love to hear more later or tomorrow, though!”

“Okay,” Reggie said. “Bye!” He continued playing marking down cool progressions he found, and just hopping around to get out his wiggles. 

…

At the self-defense class, he sparred with Lady Athena. Sometimes he would spar with Julie or Flynn, but even though she was no doubt better at fighting, he was also bigger, and she was paired with Flynn. 

Lady Athena was amazing at fighting, and Reggie got his ass kicked most of the time, but he was able to win a couple rounds, which he was quite proud of. Lady Athena complimented his form, and he had no doubt that he would be gathering serotonin from that compliment for weeks. Even then, though, he got plenty from seeing his badass little sister master her insane breakdance-style move, with which she completely demolished Flynn in a few seconds. His chest swelled with pride when she won.

Soon, though, a man named Luke entered the studio, and Reggie definitely didn’t miss Julie’s blush when she looked at him. She might’ve been supposed to marry Alex, but it wasn’t like either of them wanted it. Plus, he was always down for a little treason, especially if it was with Julie. 

Lady Athena paired Luke with Reggie, perfect timing for her to go check on some of the other people in the arena. 

“Hey, I’m Luke,” the man introduced with a smile. Reggie gave his trademark grin.

“Reggie!” He outstretched his hand, and Luke shook it. 

“Nice to meet you! So, do we just… fight?” Luke asked. “I’m not sure how this is run here compared to in Tambor.” Reggie laughed. He’d never sparred with anyone from Tambor before, so this would be fun.

“Yeah, pretty much.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You good at hand-to-hand?”

“I’m not bad, but I’m no expert.” Reggie followed his gaze as it shifted over to Julie. “Is she always that much of a badass?” He asked, clearly in awe.

“Pretty much,” Reggie replied with a laugh, grinning at Luke’s blush.

Simp.

“Good to know. In that case, if I introduce myself to her, how scared should I be?” Luke was fiddling with the hem of his shirt by that point. 

“Oh, don’t worry!” Reggie assured him. “She’s actually really nice. I’ve known her since she was eight,” he explained.

“Alrighty then,” he said, hopping into a fighting stance. “Let’s get cracking.” Reggie grinned and reciprocated, taking the first strike. 

The first thing he learned was that Luke was very opportunistic in his fighting style. He went for nearly every possible blow, even if it meant leaving himself vulnerable. Reggie, of course, took advantage of this. He had to make sure his new friend (and sister’s possible future treasonous boyfriend) knew he could protect people. 

Luke pouted, and Reggie couldn’t help but admit that he had adorable puppy eyes. 

He helped him up, laughing. A few more sparring rounds passed, and Luke turned out to be quite adaptable. He found ways to get past Reggie’s blocks, and even put some up himself. Soon, they were evenly matched, and Reggie was impressed. Although, he soon found that he could get in another blow by telling a horrible joke, then striking when Luke laughed.

He thought it was pretty genius.

…

The dinner was rather uneventful. He did, however, get to meet Prince Alexander, which he was very happy about - even more so now that he was confident in Ray’s assurance that he was a good person. They’d chatted about politics and whatnot, before both admitting that they were bored. Somehow, the conversation strayed to music.

“No way, you play the drums?” Reggie asked excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to learn, but I’m no good.”

“Yeah, I do! You said you play bass?”

“Yep!” He beamed, making a mental note to ask if he wanted to see, sometime later.

“That’s awesome, dude.”

“Thanks!” 

They talked for a little while longer, before Alex was pulled away to talk to some other Dahlian nobleman whose name Reggie kept forgetting. Plus, Alex seemed tired; unsurprising, given the long day he must’ve had. 

Reggie eventually settled down and ran through his thoughts.

He knew he couldn’t protect Julie, not like he wanted to. Plus, she didn’t need protecting, he’d come to realize after Luke’s “badass” comment at the training arena. Julie Molina wasn’t just a badass in self-defense, she was also a badass in every other sense of the word. She was a teenage girl, the heiress to the Dahlian throne, juggling her academic lessons and royal lessons, along with making time for her friends, free time, and she managed to (usually) get enough sleep. She was a complete badass who didn’t need protecting. 

She needed support, instead. That was something Reggie could do. He could be by her side every step of the way, no matter how hard it got. He was her brother, and he loved her more than life itself, loved every crooked smile, every curl of hair, every eye roll after one of his famously bad jokes. She didn’t deserve any of this, but by God, he’d do his best to make it bearable for her. 

-----

Willie POV

...

After lunch, the burn on Willie’s hand had calmed. Rather than the angry red mark it was earlier, it had shrunk into an annoyed red streak. Still a nuisance, but he didn’t really care.

As Willie whipped the mousse, his mind strayed to Prince Alexander. 

What was he like? Was he as cute in person as he was in photos? Probably, Willie decided. Photos never fully captured someone’s beauty unless they knew what they were looking for, and that was always more of an emotion. Photojournalists aimed for lighting and composition. There were always emotion in the photos, yes, but they never actually got to see the people in the photo. 

He wondered if he would get to meet him. Would it go well? Would he like the bread he’d so carefully baked? Would he enjoy the mousse cake he was whipping up right now? All of these questions whirled around in Willie’s brain as he whipped the mousse, letting it become airy and fluffy. Sprinkles of cocoa powder dusted the counter next to his mixing bowl, but it was fine. It would all get wiped up later. 

He grabbed a tub of fine cinnamon, sprinkling in a pinch for a little bit of kick. It was barely noticeable, but it gave the mousse an extra depth that it normally would’ve lacked. He’d never told anyone his secret, despite prying from Lilian. 

Sprinkling in a tiny bit more to account for the large batch, his thoughts wandered again.

How was Princess Julie dealing with all of this? Willie had never had a real conversation with her, but she seemed to be very well put-together. She managed everything so well, at least from the outside. Though he knew better than anyone that, no matter how organized someone may seem, there’s always a storm underneath. 

Willie finished up, putting plastic wrap over the mousse and sticking it in the giant refrigerator, before taking off his apron, washing his hands, and heading for the door.

“Willie?” Called Alyssa from behind him. He turned around, walking backwards. 

“Yeah? I’m just going on break.”

“Did you finish making the mousse?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Alyssa,” he said, walking out the door. The mousse is in the refrigerator-” 

WHAM. 

Willie let out a slight “oof” as he ran into the person in the hallway.

He stumbled, catching himself before he fell, though not as gracefully as he would’ve liked. He’d fared better than the other person, though. 

“Whoa!” The man said.

“Agh, sorry, I really need to watch where I’m-” Willie cut himself off, his cheeks flushing as he realized he’d just ran into Prince Alexander.

Well, so much for making a good impression.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, your highness.” He scrambled into a bow, and blushed. 

“No, you’re good, bro.” Willie was taken aback by the casual response, but he wasn’t complaining. 

Willie finally got a good look at him, and wasn’t at all surprised when he found that he was even more stunning in person.Of course, it made it a whole lot harder to hide his gay panic.

He had blonde hair that was expertly styled, and a crisp, blue suit vest with minimalistic gold embroidery that brought out flecks of blue in his eyes and highlights in his hair. His muscles were defined and visible through the sleeves of his white dress shirt, and even when he was frazzled after just having been knocked over, he still looked as handsome as ever.

“Are you okay?” Willie asked, concerned. 

“I’m fine, yeah. Thanks. Just trying to clear my head. Until you, you know, tried to crack it open.” Willie couldn’t help himself from laughing, and dearly hoped it wasn’t the wrong move. But the prince had a small smile on his face and pink dusting his cheeks, so he had a feeling it was okay.

“I did pancake you, huh?” He tried to laugh, and Willie nervously cleared his throat. “Sorry. Oh, uh, I’m Willie. It’s nice to meet you.”

Willie outstretched his hand, delighted when the other man shook it. “Alex,” he greeted, still blushing a little bit, which could be chalked up to the embarrassment of being plowed over. Willie was worried things would get awkward soon, so he searched for an excuse, hating that he had to leave.

“Well, I’d better make sure we’re clear to bring up dessert,” he said. “But I’ll see you around, your royal pancakeness,” Willie added with a grin, spinning on his heel and going back to the kitchens, hoping Alex hadn’t noticed his internal gay panic.

…

“Well, that was a quick break,” Alyssa pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess it was,” Willie agreed, not fully listening. 

He’d fucking pancaked the prince. Prince Alexander Mercer of Tambor. And Willie, despite his constant hoping for a good impression, ran him over because he wasn’t even watching where he was going. 

How the hell was he such a mess? And even more, how would he ever be accepted by literal royalty who was way too cute to even exist? 

Willie shook his head, letting his hair fall over his shoulders, ignoring the feeling of Alyssa’s eyes on him as he walked into the giant refrigerated room, grabbing the huge bowl of chocolate mousse and scooping it into a piping bag, grabbing some of the chilled cakes.

His hands were steady and meticulous as he gently piped the mousse onto the cakes, making a thick layer on top of each, then lifting into a swirl that peaked in the center, adorning each cake with a bit of wafer and chocolate. He set each one on a tray, waiting for Alyssa to pick it up. Plating was her specialty, because according to Lilian, any time Willie did plating, it ended up “chaotic” and “messy” and “unorthodox.” Personally, he thought it was cool. But, not everyone could have taste, he supposed. 

…

Later that night, as he wandered into his small room in the chefs’ quarters, laying down on the soft bed, his mind wandered to Alex. Despite constantly being on the news, he was a mystery, an enigma, a puzzle Willie had the urge to solve. What were his interests? His desires? His hopes, his dreams? 

Of course, he would never be able to act on his feelings about the prince, how adorably awkward he was, how gorgeous he was in any outfit, no matter the style, how even in one simple conversation, Willie had become so enamoured that he wanted to know everything about him. Not in a creepy way, of course, but in the way one wishes to know someone they’ve just met, who intrigues them to no end. 

That night, his dreams were haunted by a familiar face, a shy smile, and a piercing set of bluish eyes.

[aclosetfan]

hi so like

“i saw this and thought of you immediately”

if you want to for any ship HDHDHDHDHD

@over-under-through1 Okay, so, I gave ya greens last time, and you said ANY ship, so I decided to give my rare pair some love. And it’s just sweet pure brain rot. Anyway, as always, thanks for the prompt!!! 

Prompt: “I saw this and thought of you immediately” from the prompt list of ways to say “I love you” without actually saying it 😊 that whole list makes me go soft. Pairing: brick/bubbles 

Word count: 4696// this was supposed to be a drabble :)))))

Summary: I’ve got nothing witty to say. Bubbles just gives our boy a gift and he almost hemorrhages. 

(Bubbles’ love language would totally be gift-giving based on how crafty she is, my love language is definitely NOT gift giving so I hope this isn’t horrible)

Brick licked chip crumbs from his fingers as he flipped through the tv. On the floor, next to the recliner he had deemed his for the afternoon, his journalism partner—one seemingly disgruntled Blossom Utonium—was busy organizing their project into five hundred million different tasks. She was dividing them evenly, and despite her warnings and threats, he had already resigned to do his two hundred and fifty million assigned mini-steps last minute like usual. It was the same song and dance they did for every project they were paired up for, which was incredibly often and, frankly, not by choice, though now, he supposed he'd be a bit insulted if she went and picked a new partner after everything they had been through together.

Investigative Journalism 302 was supposed to be another blowoff class he had decided to take solely for the credits. Still, when it became clear to the professor that Brick wasn't going to be taking their class seriously, they had gone out of their way to ruin his life and pair him with Blossom Utonium. Despite the good A-quality content they churned out, it had not been an easy go around the first few times they had been paired together. They were too similar and too different in all the worst ways. She was too type-A to his type-B, and they were both too stubborn to admit when they were wrong. But, him and Blossom both had a penchant for sticking their noses in places they shouldn't, so somewhere along the line—probably around the time they had broken into More Co. to follow a lead and diffused a hostage situation at the Mayor's Manor—they figured it was easier to be friends, not enemies.

They were chalking up to be Townsville's resident Sherlock and Watson, except they both fancied themselves Sherlock and the other Watson, but, eh, what relationship was perfect?    

This time around, they were investigating some strange chemical. The only lead they had come from Blossom's own father. He had apparently said something "cryptic" over Sunday brunch that had launched Blossom into overdrive. Eavesdropping on one of her old man's telephone conversations, she had listened to him mutter about the letter X, failed mutations, a strict deadline, and an explosion that may or may not have been the same explosion at the 'abandon' smelting factory two weeks ago.

She took the information personally since it involved her father, but Brick had met the man before and didn't think there was an evil bone in his body. The lab he worked for, though, was an entirely different story. H.I. Mechanics was one hundred different kinds of shady.

Three days from now, Blossom had decided that he would need to have the, again, two hundred and fifty million preliminary tasks done before their big stakeout. She’d be lucky if he decided to do three of them, but he entertained her ramblings anyway because the longer he stuck around her place, the longer he got to bum her cable.

That had become their routine. Meet at Blossom's place, let her rant like an anal madwoman, ignore her in favor of the reality trash tv that he loved but could not afford at his own apartment, and then have whatever painstakingly thought-out plan Blossom had concocted backfire on them in the near distant future. The process was like clockwork.

"—and if we go in at that time, really, why would they refuse us entry? The records we're looking for should technically be public record, though they're no doubt redacted. We're going to have to—you're not listening to me, are you?"

"Yeah," he hummed, more focused on the reality tv season wrap-up reunion he was watching, then whatever she was talking about, "that sounds good."

"So, you're not." She snipped, and the tone of her voice caught his attention.

"Huh?" He glanced at her for a moment before looking back at the tv, "Not what?

"Listening to me." She gave him a cross look, stepping in front of the tv, "You're not listening to me.

"Whaaa?" He tried sounding offended as he attempted to shoo her out of the way, "Noooo, what gave you that impression?"

"Listen," she snapped her fingers in front of his face a few times, and he felt his face scrunch up in distaste—he wasn't a dog, "both of my sisters are going to be home soon, and I don't want them to get mixed up in all of this, so we need to drill out the details of this plan before they get home!"

Blossom lived with her sisters—Buttercup, and Bubbles—in a two-bedroom apartment close to the University in downtown Townsville. All three went to TownU, which wasn't too surprising to Brick. It was an incredibly good school, and he'd admit all three of them were smart, but still, three for three had to be a little weird, right? And to think, people accused him and his brothers of being joined at the hips.

He gave her a dry look as she walked back to her spot on the carpet. "We both know that's not how this works."

Blossom slammed the book she had opened shut, "You're impossible."

"I think you meant to say consistent." He spared her one last glance before settling back into the recliner, "Really, Bloss, how in the world do you think you'd be able to keep this one from them? At this point, my brothers just assume I'm at the center of the mayhem."

She tsked, but the lack of argument was deafening. After a moment, she sighed, and her shoulders dropped, "I just don't want them to get hurt. Not like last time."

"Don't know what you're so worried about." He drawled, "I recall them saving us, not the other way around."

"And I recall the scar that's now running up and down Butters' back." She shot back, "This time, there will be no mess-ups."

"Yeah, wanna bet on—"

"Home!" Buttercup's voice rang throughout the apartment as the front door was slammed open and shut, "How we feeling about take-out—Oh, sup, Brick. You good with Chinese tonight?"

"We're working on school stuff!" Blossom exclaimed, scrambling to cover up the more elicit details of their ‘homework.'

Buttercup rolled her eyes, placing a hand on her hip, "I can tell. What's it this time, huh? Something normal or is there a bomb threatening to reactivate the volcano in Townsville Central Park that I should be made aware of?"

"It's norm—"

"—mutants." He interrupted Blossom, "The man funding your dad's company is sups sketch."

Buttercup shifted on her feet and crossed her arms, "Does this have to do with that Chemical-X stuff dad was talking about?"

"Don't you have a shower you should be taking?" Blossom huffed, glaring at the both of them, "You just finished a run, I can tell; you smell like a pig."

"That's what tipped you off?" Buttercup snorted, "Not the copious amount of sweat dripping down my face? Hey," she nodded her head at them, "ask me how my run went."

Together, he and Blossom rolled their eyes and sighed, "How'd your run—"

"Really well, wow, thanks for asking!" Buttercup smiled, "I beat my average, sooo think hard about what where you want to order from for dinner tonight. We're celebrating! I already texted Bubs," Buttercup stuck her tongue out at them, "she was much more enthusiastic."  

"Then celebrate with her," Blossom frowned from her spot on the floor, fingering the edges of her notebook, "we've got a lot to finish tonight. I don't think we'll have—"

"Yeah, yeah. Listen here, hero-girl," Buttercup scowled, hands back on her hips, "you still gotta eat. Ima take a shower, you have till then to put the spy shit away. Speaking of spy shit," her glare shifted to him, "your brother done fixing my car yet?"

"Ask him, babe." He sniffed, looking pointedly at the tv, "I ain't the middleman."

He suppressed the urge to bulk as Buttercup lifted him up off the recliner by the collar of his shirt. A dark smile snuck its way across her face as she leaned close into him, "Considering the fact that you owe me for getting it destroyed in the first place, baby, then I think you are."

"A lesson in forgiveness would do you well, but fine, I'll ask." He sneered back, unwillingly to show the dread that ran up his spine when he saw the look in her eyes, "You do realize, though, it'd be faster if you just called—"

"Nope!" She sang, dropping him back down in the seat, like nothing had just transpired between them, "If he wants my number, he has to ask for it!" She walked down the hall towards the bathroom, "I don't make the rules."

He scowled, watching her walk away before turning his head back to Blossom, "She's lucky I owe her."

"You're lucky," Buttercup called from down the hallway, "that I saved your sorry ass!"

Blossom snorted, and he shot her a dirty look, "Don't encourage her."

"Oh, be quiet," Blossom snickered, "just watch TV like you always do, and I'll put—"

"I'm home!" A high, singsong voice rang through the house, as the door was once again thrown open, and his heart palpitated without permission. He forced his eyes to focus on the tv, and if Blossom noticed how he sunk low into the recliner, she thankfully didn't say anything.

"In here!" Blossom called back, and from the corner of his eye, he watched as Bubbles stuck her head around the corner. Quickly, he turned his attention back to the tv and tried his best not to seem at all interested as she practically danced her way into the room. She was always practically dancing everywhere she went. It was annoying.

"Blossy, oh my god, you will not believe what—Brick!" She exclaimed, shoving a finger in his face when she noticed he was in the room, "Wai—Brick Jojo! Do not move from that spot!"

He blinked and looked around at the spot he had forged for himself in their living room. His bookbag, snack bags, disregarded textbooks, and his jacket littered the space around him, and his body had imprinted into the recliner's seat cushions, so when he looked back at Bubbles and gave her a dry look, he meant it when he said, "Yeah, wasn't planning on it."

He looked away quickly when she beamed at him. Her smile was bright, sweet, and dimply, and also very annoying. People couldn't always be so immovably happy, could they?

Bubbles giggled and did a little hoppy-dance before she calmed down and looked back at him, "Ahhh, okay!" She wagged a finger at him, "You stay! I've got a surpriiiisseee for you."

"Again," He huffed, ignoring all the less-than-innocent surprise scenarios his traitorous brain played through, "wasn't going anywhere."

"If you're not going anywhere, why don't you actually do some work while you wait." Blossom's voice bit through the air, but he ignored her, going back to flipping through the tv.

"Yeeepp," He popped, his tone no drier than hers, "wasn't planning on that either."

 Blossom mumbled to herself and looked at Bubbles, "Before you go, can you help me with these books? I'm putting them in my bedroom."

Bubbles held out her arms, moving around the recliner and out of his field of vision, "No prob-lamo, chica! What's this all for?"

"Don't worry about it." Blossom brushed Bubbles off, and her sister giggled again.

"What?" The blonde snorted, "Is there a bomb in the volcano?"

He could practically hear the way Blossom stiffened, "Why does everyone keep saying—do people think there's a bomb in the—"

"Blossom!" He groaned, "I'm fucking hungry, hurry up."

She hmphed and stomped out of the living room with Bubbles presumably following, so he relaxed in his seat, ready to blow out the deep breath he was holding when Bubbles' visage filled his vision.

Her smile crinkled the corners of her baby blue eyes, and the back of his neck instantly warmed at the proximity. He wasn't one for people invading his personal space, but Bubbles literally had no freaking concept of it. She was always shoving her face in his. So, unfortunately, Brick was very aware of the sun freckles that littered their way throughout her cheeks and it was particularly distressing because staring at her face made it easier to forget the No Touching Rule he was pretty adamant about people following.

"Stay." She reminded him; her tone tinged with lingering laughter. This close, she smelt like the physical embodiment of a bakery, and it took a significant amount of willpower to pull his eyes away from her.

"Whatever." He mumbled.

With another giggle—always with the dumb giggling—she was gone, and he was finally alone to collect himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered a string of particularly nasty curse words at himself. Objectively, he was well aware that Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup were…attractive, but he was never actually supposed to be attracted to any of them. They were the girls. They were just the girls. Ever since he had known them, they had been just the girls.

Blossom had a stick up her ass.

Buttercup could probably disembowel him.

And Bubbles giggled and smiled.

And it didn't matter if she giggled and smiled at him. Because she giggled and smiled at everything. She was one of those people, the kind of person that gave someone their undivided attention in a room full of people. She was good at making people feel good about themselves. She didn’t do it just for him. No see, if he was attracted to Bubbles, which he wasn't, it was because she was very good at making all people feel seen. So, he wasn't special. He wasn't. And it just—she would…he wasn't used to people just automatically assuming the good in him. People so optimistic tended to avoid him.

The positive attention was just making his head spin, making things confusing, and that was it. He wasn't one of those sad, lonely guys who mistook niceness for flirting. He had a clear head on his shoulders. It was just attention he was unused to. And it was a kind of attention he didn't need. Bubbles was just a nuisance. Her personality was too sweet. They were so different. Even if he did actually end up somehow magically liking her, it wouldn't work between them in a million years.

Besides, everyone already knew that pretty social butterflies didn't actually go for anti-social dweebs. Real-life wasn't an overdramatic coming-of-age rom-com. Realistically, she probably went for guys like Boomer.

He let out a shaky breath and turned up the volume on the tv. Some housewife was crying about something laughably petty, but he couldn't find it in himself to smile.

A second later, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of hands clasped together over his eyes. He only relaxed when he heard Bubbles voice nice and warm next to his ear. "Peak-a-boo," she laughed, "guess who!"

He ignored the way her breath tickled his neck and frowned into the darkness, "A heart attack?"

"Oof, so close!" She snorted, releasing her hands from his face and leaning around the recliner, so he could see her smiling at him, "It's Bubbles!"

"Hello, Bubbles." He droned, not resisting the way his eyes rolled but fighting the way his mouth was trying to twitch into a smile.

"Ready for your surpriiisse!" She sang, walking around the chair so she could stand in front of him with her hands clasped behind her back. He pressed his way further into the recliner after their knees knocked together, distancing himself from her.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "What is it?"

"It's a gift!" She rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, still smiling.

"Okaayyy." He reached a hand out with grabby fingers, "Let's get this over with, give it here."

She tilted her head back and laughed, a real honest belly laugh, before she looked down at him again, and suddenly, he felt tiny under her gaze. "Oh, my goodness, Brick," She chided, "I'm not just gonna hand it to you! Close your eyes and hold out your hands!"

He adjusted the brim of his hat lower down his face and looked away, "I don't—"

"I said—" she repeated, reaching a hand out to pull his hat down completely over his eyes, "Close your eyes!"

"Fine." He hissed, trying to sound as grumpy as he was pretending to be and readjusted his hat as he shut his eyes, "They're closed. Happy?"

"Hold out your hands!"

He sighed but complied, and after a bit of shuffling on Bubbles' part, something small was placed in his hands.

"Okay," she announced, "now open your eyes!"

He opened his eyes and stared at the little…thing in his hands. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he figured it was some kind of fluffy…hat…keychain? He didn't know. He gave it a quizzical look before returning his stare to Bubbles.

"Ta-da!" she sang, accompanied by a pair of jazz hands, before she clapped them together, "Do you like it!"

"What…is it?"

There was a pause, and the smile on Bubbles's face fell away. "What is it!" She huffed, cheeks puffed out like an angry chipmunk, which was the worst angry face she could have because it just made her cuter, "It's a dog keychain!"

"This—" he held the keychain up for both of them to examine, "—is not a dog. It's a ball of fluff."

Bubbles' mouth dropped open, "It totally is! Look," she snatched it out of his hands, smooshing the fluff down so she could show off its' pointed ears, stubby little legs, and tail, "see! Puppy! A little Pomeranian! Baby puppy! Puppy, puppy, puppy!"

With something akin to bloodcurdling embarrassment pulsing through his veins, he watched as Bubbles continued to baby talk the offensive keychain, placing a tiny peck on its' small nose.

"And look!" She gushed, shoving it back into his face, "Look at its wittle red hat!" She squealed, bring it back to her so she could cuddle it to her face, "It's so cute I can't even!" Without warning, she dropped into his lap, which was around the same time his heart dropped into his stomach, "I saw it and thought of you immediately!"

He froze at the admission. He had never once thought of himself as someone who short-circuited very often, but people didn't compare him to a cute Pomeranian keychain very often either. In fact, he had been called a lot of things in his short lifespan—wiseass, smartass, punkass, there was a very consistent theme of derogatory titles thrown at him on the daily—but cute Pomeranian was not one of them. And, frankly, he couldn't say he was a fan.

"Are you comparing me to a Pomeranian?" He sneered, momentarily forgetting the fact that Bubbles Utonium was making herself comfortable on his lap, and he was neglecting to stop her.  

"Duh!" She said rather flippantly, pushing the brim of his hat up and off his face, so they could look at each other. Another definite no-no that he was too flabbergasted to address.

"I would not be a Pomeranian!" He argued when he collected his jaw off the ground.  

"Uhhh, yes, you would, lol." She argued back, playing with the fluffy little keychain in her hands. She kissed its face again, and in turn, his face only got hotter.

"Uhhhhhh," he mocked, "no, I wouldn't be."

She looked up from the keychain and gave him a somewhat patronizing look, "Yes, you would be."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

She laughed, "Brick, yes! You're just like a Pomeranian! You're super intelligent, curious, feisty, you like being the center of attention," she looked off for a second in thought, waving a hand in the air as she talked, "and you've definitely got some tiny dog syndrome in you."

He blinked at her, gaping, as his brain worked overload to find something to dispute in that analysis, but when he couldn't find any, he spat at her, "Why do you know all this shit about Pomeranians, huh?"

"They're one of my favorite breeds!" Her face lit up, "They're just so cute! I love them! And you remind me of them, so I got this for you!" She held the keychain up again, "It's so cute!"

His mind ground to a sudden halt as the words' cute' and 'love' and 'you' repeatedly echoed in his head. His heart hammered away in his chest, and in his panic, he contemplated throwing her off his lap and burning the whole apartment complex to the ground. What was one more arson charge on his record, anyway?  

"Bubs—stop saying…so what?" He asked, floundering before changing tactics. She wasn't the only one who could say embarrassing shit. "Does that mean you think I'm cute or something?" He flirted with a smirk, but it was only after the sentence left his mouth that he remembered Bubbles Utonium didn't get embarrassed. She smiled and giggled.

And that continued to ring turn even now, as she laughed, wrapping her arms around hia neck, she squeezed him. Only letting go of him slightly, to the bring the keychain up to his face, so she could bop the little dog’s nose and his nose together. "Of course!" She agreed, "Cute as a button!"

"N-no!" He sputtered.

"No," she pulled away from the crook of his neck, tilting her head in question, "what?"

"No," he sneered, "I'm not cute like a button."

She considered this for a second, tapping the keychain to her face, before shooting him a broad smile, "Handsome? Is that better?" Mirth tinkled in her big doe eyes, "You're our handsome boy?"

"That's worse!" He complained almost hysterically, running a frantic hand through his hair, knocking the hat he had somehow forgotten he had on from his head.  

"Aw, Brick, come on," She rolled her eyes, catching the hat before it fell to the ground and plopping it on her head, "what do you want me to say then?"

"The truth never hurt," He spat as if he hadn't lied through his teeth at least three different times this week to three professors that he couldn't attend class because his beloved family pet 'Insert Name Here' had died.

Bubbles pouted, "But I told you the truth! I think you're handsome!" She held up the keychain, and with a horribly fake and cheesy deep voice, she used the gift as a puppet, "You're the most handsomest boy in the whole world!"

She solidified her point by making the keychain kiss his nose once more before pulling back to gape at him, "Wow, see even Mr. Puppy agrees with me!"

"Oh, right," he shook his head, in mock agreement, "a handsome boy with little dog syndrome, right?"

"Well," she shrugged, waving him off, "I never said you were charming."

His retort was caught off with a giggle, and she made the keychain kiss his nose once, then twice, and then his breath hitched as a third wet kiss was planted on his cheek by Bubbles herself. She pulled back with a coy smile.

"Brick…" she hummed, trailing off, and something about her tone made him swallow thickly.

"Y-yeah." He finally pushed out after a moment.

"Can I play with your hair?" She asked, leaning forward, laying her head on his shoulder as she twirled a lock of his hair around her finger, and he swore his soul left his body. No one, absolutely no one, touched his hair. No one wore his hat. No one sat on his lap. And here she was. And here he was. And he wasn't stopping her like he should have been.

"Uhh, umm, I—uhh—"

"Bubs, jeez!"

He jumped, choking on his own spit, as Buttercup marched into the room, her hair still dripping wet.

"Seriously, personal space, you're making him uncomfortable." Buttercup huffed, one hand on her hip as he gestured to his face, which was probably redder than his hat.

"Uncomfy!" Bubbles shot up, and a guilty look flashed across her face as she took in his face, "Ah, shoot, sorry, is this too much?" She took her arms away from his neck and wrung her hands together, for the first time blushing, "I just get too excited sometimes! I have a lotta love in my heart, ya know?" She finished with a bashful chuckle.

The small distance between them actually made it a little easier to think again, but she didn't need to know that. Embarrassed by the noticeable flush of his face and his reaction to Buttercup catching them, Brick shrugged and looked away, "You're fine."

That was apparently not good enough for Bubbles because she pleaded again, "I'm sorry!"

"I said," he hissed, wishing she'd drop it, "you're fine!"

"I'm still so sorry!" Looking back over, he was surprised to see her lower lip wobbling, "I shouldn't have forgotten!" She put her hands on her face, squishing her cheeks, as tears began to well in her eyes, and he sent a frantic look over towards Buttercup, "I know you're not a hugger, I should have asked and—"

"—Bubs, he said he was fine." Buttercup interjected again, "Now, you're just making him uncomfortable all over!"  

Bubbles looked from Buttercup to him, back to Buttercup, and then finally to him once more. "You're fine?" She clarified, “This is okay?”

And all he could do was nod, "Yep."

Visibly relaxing, her eyes became less and less watery, and she shot him a relieved look.

"Sheesh." Buttercup mumbled and walked away, "zero to one hundred. Bloss!" She called out, "Come save your poor counterpart from the clutches of cuddly evil over here and let's order the food!"

"What!" Blossom called from her room down the hall.

With an exasperated huff on Buttercup’s part and something more frantic on his part, they both yelled out, "Food!" and there was a scoff from the bedrooms.

"No need to yell!" She shot back, "I'm coming!"

Buttercup shook her head before jabbing her thumb in the direction of their tiny kitchen and announced, "I'm getting the take-out menus."

Bubbles nodded and then, beamed when she noticed Blossom had walked into the room.

"Blossom! Look at this cute keychain I got for Brick!" She cooed, her eyes bright and excited again, which would have brought him some relief if she hadn't opened her big mouth and kept talking, "Doesn't it remind you of him? It's a Pomeranian!"

Face aflame once more, he snapped, "I'm not a Pomeranian!"

"Ho—ly shit!" Obnoxious laughter floated its way out of the kitchen that only made him grind his teeth, "He totally is!"  

"It's the little dog syndrome." Blossom agreed, flipping her hair over her shoulder and ignoring the crude gesture he shot her way as she walked past him towards the kitchen, "BC, let's order from Lee's!"

"No way!" Buttercup argued, "Pa Changs!"

He turned back to Bubbles, who, despite it all, had yet to remove herself from his lap. He was about to make some remark about him pushing her off of his lap in the next three seconds, but the way her eyes flinted over his face made him pause. When she realized she had been caught staring, she smiled once more, bright and beaming, and his heart did another funny little dance.

"You like it, right?" She tilted her head, holding the keychain up so it dangled between them, "I…I can take it back if you want."

Her smile fell the slightest of fractions along with his heart.

"No!" His hand shot out, taking hold of the keychain, "It's—I like it, whatever." He sniffed and turned his head away, "So quit the kicked puppy shit, alright?"

Another smile. Another giggle. It felt like a sick joke, but Brick was pretty sure he was falling in love.

-----------------------------------------------

A/N: That’s right! It seems the only way I can write romance is with a shit ton of pining!!!! To love is to long, I guess. It’s a little awkward in some places, but it was for fun, so I decided to cut myself some slack and post it anyway! I hope you like it!!! The pairing doesn’t get a lot of love, but I think opposites attract dynamic is so so so cute.

Also, sorry this took me forever! First, I got distracted looking at cute dog pics and then halfway through writing the drabble I was like “hey what if I stuck Blossom in this and she and Brick solved mysteries??” So, then I lived with that AU floating around in my head rent-free, and now, finally, here we are. ANYWAY, in this AU, Blossom is in a very sapphic relationship with Princess, who, along with HIM, is the main antagonist. The Professor is the damsel in distress btws. Brick and Bubbles are disgusting cute. Boomer’s gay, who for tho?? Who knows! Not me! But he’s a freelancer, who’s hardcore freeloading off of Brick and Butch, and that’s all you really need to know. Buttercup has big Mom Friend vibes. Also, Butch is a mechanic and playfully flirts with Buttercup, which she thinks is funny until he actually starts really flirting with her, and then she’s like “um, sir, I am a maiden???” b/c she is actually both shy and a prude. (And you know I like my greens) Anyway, el oh el, it’s a good time.

inspo for the keychain (and brick):

[thefantasygirl3]

Negaverse stories: Bushroot's backstory

Genre/warnings: Comedy, Slice of life, Action, Drama.

Word count: 3 581

Summary:  After the events of Darkwing Duck coming to the Negaverse and helping the now called “Darkwing Ducks” save st. Canard, the four heroes   decided to adopt the adorable little Gosalyn, buy a house and start a   life together. But the little duckling is curious over how all her dads became heroes to start with, so she asks them to tell her that story.

Notes:  The third story out of four, featuring the friendly four. I almost forgot to upload it here, but here it is. Only one more to go. Link  to other parts of the story: 1 - Megavolt. 2 - Quackerjack. 4 - Liquidator.

It was 9:00 am in st. Canard. Most kids were busy in school, learning their ABCs and 123s. Emphasis on "most". In the Darkwing ducks' household, the little duckling Gosalyn was laying in bed with an ice pack on her head. She had gotten sick that morning and her parents had made her stay home, which she thought stunk! What is she going to do when she's stuck in bed? While she's laying like a sack of sneezing potatoes in bed, all her friends are having fun at school, playing with their new dolls and talking about their pets. She wanted to hang out with all the other kids! But at least she wasn't completely alone, not only was Bushroot home, as he was a stay-at-home-dad, but Quackerjack also left Mr. Banana brain to keep her company while her papa was busy.

She let out a big, bored sigh and sank more into her bed, almost disappearing in the covers. But then she heard something from outside her window, making her push herself up with a groan and head over to take a peek. And outside she saw her papa, Bushroot, kneeled down by his garden and tending to the pretty little flowers, yet to bloom while he hummed happily. His fly trap was helping him by carrying the watering can for him. One of the buds started to make strange little noises before it burst out crying like a child. He gasped softly and bent down to give the baby bud soothing pats to calm it down. "Shhhh. Don't cry, my widdle baby! It's ok! Shhhh… it's ok. Go back to sleep. Papa's here" he whispered in a baby voice to the bud as it stopped crying.

Gosalyn puffed up her cheeks grumpily and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at her papa acting like that to one of his mutated flowers. Always doting on them like babies. He never treated her like that! Was she getting jealous of flowers? Yes! Yes she was!

She walked over to the door to head out into the garden, but was interrupted as she let out a big, loud sneeze. She snivled and rubbed her beak of snot while glancing back at the bed, where Banana brain was looking over at her while lying lazily on the bed. "Don't look at me like that. I'm just going outside" she told him with a stuffy nose before she sniffed a bit and continued towards the stairs. 

As she was half way down the stairs, she spotted the plant man starting to hurry inside and soon thereafter spotted the sick little girl dragging herself down from her room. "Oh nonono!" he shouted surprised as he ran over towards her and stopped her at the end of the stairwell. "Chickpea! You shouldn't be walking around! You should be trying to sleep the sickness off!" the nervous duck man started to gently usher her up the stairs, until he noticed her grumpy face and came to a stop.

"Hun? What's the matter? You don't look happy" he muttered concerned and crouched down to be on her level. "... I was lonely" she mumbled and lowered her head, getting red cheeks from the feeling of embarrassment. The plant let out a big sigh and stood up so he could walk over towards the couch. Gosalyn, without a word, followed after him and crawled up beside him. "Dandelion, you need to rest. But if you're feeling lonely, I guess I can sit with you for a while. So… what did you want to do?" He asked while reaching an arm out to wrap around her and pull her in closer. "... can you… tell me about when you became a hero?" She muttered weakly and looked up at him with a pair of puppy eyes. "Ah… so it's my turn now? I… guess it was inevitable. Very well… I can't say no to you when you make those eyes" he let out a soft chuckle before giving his daughter a smile and giving her a gentle hug.

Before I became… this, I used to be the head scientist in a food lab. We would find the best, cheapest ways to make our food. But I was… let's just say rebellious and used the lab to make my own interesting food experiments. See I wasn't exactly cooperative, I would bully the scientists beneath me to get my way and I'd use all of the equipment to do my own things. I'd even manipulate and bully my boss so I had him in my grasp as well. There was only one person I couldn't push around in the workplace and that was ms. Rhoda Dendron. 

Rhoda… she was… beautiful. She was smart and headstrong, an amazing addition to our little lab team. She'd treat me so coldly and would not give me the time of day at all. And I was crazy over her. She was so confident, I just couldn't help but fall head over heels in love with this feisty woman. But she absolutely despised me. She saw me as a jerk who disrespected everyone and didn't mind using others for my own self gain. And… she was kind of right. I'd be so nice and romantic to her, but she couldn't care less.

"What? Why would you like someone who doesn't like you?" Gosalyn asked confused as she nuzzled into her papa's side, glancing up at him slightly. Bushroot blushed up lightly and looked away from her, a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead. "Um… well… she was… you know! She was pretty! And confident!" He tried to excuse himself while getting progressively redder. "Eh. It's fine. Love is weird. Please keep going" she told him softly as she dismissed the question as fast as she had asked it.

Anyways. One day, I was working in the lab, ordering around the other two scientists to do my work for me while I was investigating the growth of my lovely little plants. They were rushing around with hamburgers or something, doing whatever it was we were trying to do at the time. I honestly can't remember. But then, suddenly, one of the guys ran into me and spilled ketchup all over my plant. I gasped in shock and turned to him, face covered in rage. "You MORONS!" I yelled "Can't you watch where you're going?! You might just have ruined my experiment!". The other man ran over and helped his friend up, looking at me while apologizing. "Why I OUGHTA-" as I was just threatening them, I heard the door open and I looked up to see Rhoda enter. I was immediately smitten and I reached out to pull up the scared scientist I had just raised my hand to, finishing my sentence with "Help you up, you poor man!". 

She simply gave me the dirtiest look and turned her head away, walking straight past me without any acknowledgement. I just watched her walk past and ignore me, throwing my labmates to the floor in frustration. As soon as I did, the door opened again and my boss came in. He looked over at me with a big grin. "Ah! Mr. Bushroot sir! It's great to see how far you've gotten on today's assignment! I really am lucky to have you on the team!" He kept praising me, like always. I just huffed at him and went back to clean my plant off. "It's really those two you should be thanking! Reginald was probably playing with his flowers the whole time!" Rhoda scoffed as she took out her lab notes and pens, glaring back at me like I was the scum of the earth. My boss turned to her with a gasp and stormed over with an angry look. "Ms. Dendron! We don't make such harsh, unfounded statements towards our labmates! Plus, he wasn't the one who came late today, now was he?" He scolded her while she simply rolled her eyes and looked at him irritated. "And because of your tardiness, I will be forced to cut your pay!" He added on, finally earning a reaction out of her. "What?! How dare you?!" She barked in shock. 

I shot up straight as I heard that, realizing I could do something that I thought would be sure to make her like me. "Um, actually! I asked her to get me some documents that I really needed! That's why she came in a little late. Those documents were very important" I told my boss calmly while I slid up beside him, giving Rhoda a smug grin and a raise of my eyebrows. She frowned grumpily at me. "Oh! Very well then! Sorry for the confusion! Carry on!" My boss told the two of us before he left the room. I turned to Rhoda to smile at her, but she just turned away from me and huffed angrily. "Thanks, but I don't need your pity! I'd rather be fired!" She growled at me before storming off to her papers again. I was left standing there, sour and annoyed. I just stared and muttered under my breath "I will impress you… you'll see. I'll be amazing the next time you see me".

That evening I went back to my green house where I conducted most of my experiments. I was determined to show Rhoda what she was missing out on, so I had decided to put my most ambitious project into play. I had been working on a way for people to survive on only water and sunlight, just like plants do. If I could somehow combine a plant's DNA with a person's physical form then I was sure I would be on the front of every magazine and newspaper. But most importantly, Rhoda would be so impressed that she'd fall in love with me instantly. At least that's what I thought at the time. So I set up the machine, connecting a simple house plant to one end and getting myself ready for the other end. But before I started, I had set up a camera to film my achievement and I had just pressed record and started talking to the camera. "Attempt number 14, time 6:42 pm. Date- wait. The recording lists the date. He he! Well I have finalized all the components of the photosynthesis converter and I believe now is the perfect time to try it out on a living subject. And that will be me! Thank me later for making you famous, future me! Oh! And if I die and you find this tape, Rhoda, I want to say that I love you and that you deserve my position in the lab. I formally give it to her if this is seen after my death. Alright! Let's begin!" I finished my statement and ran over to the lab table so I could lay down on it. I hooked myself up and started the process, watching myself and the plant get raised up from the ground.

Everything became blurry after that. I barely remember anything until a while after I had woken up. I must have stumbled around in a daze for a while until I regained my composure. When I did, I was laying on a big leaf, as if it had caught my fall. My head was spinning and pounding, making my vision all white. When everything in my lab started fading into view, I finally sat up and rubbed my head, groaning and whining. Then I heard the sound of a gasp, catching my attention. I looked up and saw none other than my love herself, Rhoda, staring at me in absolute horror before letting out a blood curdling scream. I screamed too and shot up from the leaf. "Ms. Dendron! Wh-what are you doing-?!" Before I could finish, she grabbed a nearby broom and started hitting me with it. I yelped in pain at her hits and started to back away from her, backing up into a window where I saw a frightening sight.

I was a plant. I had turned myself into a duck-plant-mutant, green with a head full of petals. I was shocked, until I got another whack by the broom. I turned around to her and pleaded "W-wait! Rhoda! I-i-it's me! Reginald Bushroot!". She stopped hitting me and stared surprised. "Mr. Bushroot?!?" She asked in disbelief as I let out a sigh of relief. She then smacked me again, even though she just realized it was me. "H-hey! Stop! Stop hitting me! I'm not a monster! H-h-help! HELP ME!!!" I yelled and begged as she kept hitting me, until she stopped all of a sudden and screamed in fear. I looked up and saw one of my plants had grabbed a hold of her arm and was pulling her away from me, as if it was trying to save me. Instinctively, I ran over and grabbed her other arm, yelling "No! Let go of her! Don't hurt her!". And it did exactly that, releasing her and pulling back. We were both left in stunned silence, until Rhoda broke it with "you… can talk to plants now?!". "No… no! I never meant for this to happen! I was supposed to photosynthesize! I was going to eat like a plant, not be one! I'm going to be INFAMOUS Now! I'll be some sort of freak of nature, literally! It's awful! It's horrible! It's-!" I kept rambling and pacing back and forth, starting to panic over what an awful failure this experiment was. 

"Amazing! You're a super duck! You can make plants do what you want! That's so impressive!" She suddenly interrupted me, making me stiffen up in surprise. "It… is?" I muttered, clearly having this flattered grin on my face, judging by the sudden thoughtful grin that she got. "Oh… of course it is! Reggie! This is so cool! If I knew you could do something like this… why I'm just sorry for how I've acted!" Rhoda said in this sugar sweet voice, tilting towards me and giving me these big pretty eyes. I just blushed up and felt my body start to shake, like there was an assault of butterflies in my stomach. "R-re-r-reggie…?" I could only utter before I collapsed backwards, getting caught by the branches of a tree behind me before I hit the ground. "Oh you're so silly, Reggie. It's kinda cute" she commented with a small giggle.

Me and Rhoda had moved toward the front door of the greenhouse while I explained to her what happened. She interrupted me somewhere near the end by putting a finger to my beak. "No need to explain more. Why don't we go outside and try those powers out, huh?" She suggested as we headed out through the door and stood outside. I felt a little nervous as I removed her hand and smiled nervously. "Um… I'm not sure I should do that. What if someone sees me? I'll be taken away!" I told her, looking around nervously to make sure no one was around. Rhoda leaned over and grabbed my arm, whispering softly "do it for me". I just gulped and walked past her, looking around for something to do to impress her. I saw a few pretty flowers bit away and thought they would do nicely. '"Alright! How about you show me some fun tricks, cuties?" I asked kindly, watching as the flowers grew up taller and twisted around each other delicately. I watched with this big smile on my face, until they suddenly reached out to grab the nearby bench and threw it into a lamp post. "Oh no! Don't do that!" I gasped and tried to pull the flowers back while the lamp post collapsed at the middle and came crashing down beside me. Those tiny flowers sure were strong! Rhoda just watched me, mumbling something, sounding very impressed by what just happened.

"I'm sorry Rhoda! I didn't Think they would get so violent. Maybe I am just a monster now! I make plants come to life and attack people!" I started panicking as me and her were heading back inside. "Oh you're being silly, Reggie! Maybe… they just misunderstood you! Or wanted… to impress you? Who cares anyways? What you did was really amazing! Imagine what you could do with these powers. You could rule the whole city. With your… girlfriend by your side?" she told me as she hung onto my shoulders and gave me this sensual look. I just stared at her, not able to enjoy the moment after her mentioning the ruling the city thing. I just removed her arms and backed up a bit. "Ha ha! Funny joke!" I just said while still backing away. "No! I'm serious! You and I could finally make a mark on history! Who cares about science anymore!? We could be more than scientists! Reggie!" She insisted as she started to approach me more, this devilish smile on her face. "Uuuh! R-rhoda! I think you're misunderstanding me! I'm not an evil scientist! I just want to experiment with plants!" I insisted as I backed up faster, a big leaf coming down to help hide me since I was clearly scared. 

"Ugh! What's wrong with you, Bushroot?! Why are you such a coward?! You weren't acting like this in the lab! Guess I finally see who you really are, a loser! You have this fantastic opportunity and you're not taking it!" Rhoda suddenly started yelling at me as she swatted the leaf out of the way and stomped closer, causing me to fall backwards and crawl back towards my lab area. I grabbed the machine that mutated me and used it to pull myself up off the floor, looking at the angry woman horrified. Her attention was pulled towards the machine and her scowl turned to a light frown. "Well if you're not using these powers, then I will" she growled and ran to connect herself to the machine. But I grabbed her with my vine arms and threw her back away from it. "No! I'm not letting this happen to anyone else! I'M NOT CREATING ANOTHER MONSTER! THIS MACHINE WILL NEVER BE ACTIVATED AGAIN! EVER!!!" I started screaming as I turned around to face the machine. "PLANTS! DESTROY IT!!!" I demanded with a stomp, watching as the biggest plant in the room reached down to grab a hold of the whole appliance, ripping it off of it's wires. "NO!!!" Rhoda screamed and grabbed the emergency axe, swinging it at the tall flora and making it drop the apparatus back down. It broke open in a huge explosion, knocking me out cold.

I don't remember much after that. I was out for quite some time. I just remember my consciousness fading in and out as I was trapped under the debris. At one point, I could hear faint talking, yelling, as if there were people trying to put out the fire I assume was going on around me. Then my sight faded back in when I was free from the collapsed greenhouse. I was watching it grow further and further away as I was seemingly being carried away by someone wearing rather colorful clothes. When I finally woke up completely, I was staring at an unfamiliar roof, laying on a mattress, bandaged up and treated. I sat up and saw these two people in weird outfits sitting nearby, sighing in relief as they saw me awake. "Hey! You're ok!" The duck in the jester outfit cheered and smiled brightly at me. I completely ignored him and said the first thing on my mind. "My lab… what happened to…?" Before I could finish, the look on the rat's face told me everything I needed to know. It was all gone. My life work was gone. My eyes filled with tears and I just cried quietly. "H-hey! Not everything burned! This little guy made it!" The rat then said as he ushered over this adorable venus fly trap to me, which licked my face and nuzzled me gently. I just cried and hugged onto him tightly, letting the tears just flow as I began to sob uncontrollably. The rat and duck moved closer to me and tried to comfort me the best they could. I was crying like a baby for quite some time.

"After that… the guys took care of me until I was back on my feet. When I was, I told them my story and they offered to let me join them and help them fight crime. So that's what I did. And now I'm here" Bushroot finished his story and smiled down at his kid, who was half asleep in his lap, cuddling up to him. "So she didn't really like you… that's awful" She commented and let out a yawn. "It was… the biggest heartbreak of my life. I was never able to feel attracted to another woman after that. But I did find love… in my wonderful family!" He sighed as he hugged onto her gently and patted her head. Gosalyn smiled brightly and closed her eyes, muttering "I love you, papa". "I love you too" Bushroot responded with a huge grin, picking her up to head off to bed. Spike the fly trap took a peek out of curiosity, making the duck hush him softly. "Shhh. Let the angel sleep" he whispered before carrying her off to her room, Spike close behind.

[an-absolute-travesty]

Royal Screw-Ups

It’s time, the final chapter is here 

*Sobbing*

I won’t get too sappy on you guys here, since I got pretty sappy at the end of thing on Wattpad

But yeah. Thanks if you’ve been reading this long. I have more plans for this world (i have some plans for a few oneshots) but for this moment, we are closing out this story

If you’re looking for the rest of the story, it can be found on my wattpad @ohwowhatethis, under the tags “kotlc fic” and “keefex” on my blog, or under the cut on my pinned post

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed, just for this story or as a whole): @you-are-the-vacker-legacy @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlykeefitz @percabetn @vibing-in-the-void @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42​ @rainbowtay-11 @callas-starkflower-stew @impostertamsong @appalyneinstitute1 @stars-and-splendor @anna-without-an-e

Chapter 8:

Word count: 3,677

Warnings: swearing, cassi-ass being an ass, destruction, fire, chaos, etc.

Three months of planning later, servants scurried around the property in preparation for the ceremony the next day. A glass dome had been built in the center of the property to house it.

Tam and Linh had arrived soon after they had their first meeting, luckily Tam and Fitz weren’t as lovey-dovey in real life as they were in their letters. However, Marella and Linh very much made up for it. The moment they met the guard and the princess had a connection, the sweet talk was almost too much to bear.  

In fact, all of them had grown quite close over the past months. Who knew low-level treason could bring people together so. 

Of course, not nearly as close as he’d like with a certain person, but closer for sure. Every week they met back up at the library to work out bumps in their plan, clean up the absurd amount of paper Keefe used in drawing out his first plan, or just sit and talk. Today would be their last before the big day. 

Keefe watched over Dex’s shoulder as he made his final tinkers on the device he had been working on.  

“How’s it looking Techmaster?”

“Eh, having more metal makes everything easier but...it’s one use only, so I can’t test it. We just have to hope for the best.”

“Well, I have faith in you. Your genius brain could make anything.”

Dex rolled his eyes. Keefe wanted to subtly touch him to see if his blatant flirting had been noticed, but it felt wrong to. He had been stuck in the dark for the last 3 months. 

Everyone else ran their lines around the room. Everyone besides Sophie who, as typical of her, looked half way sick in the corner. 

Keefe sat down next to her on the floor.

“Alright, what’s up Foster, have you acquired a stomach bug?” 

She giggled. “No...it’s just…” She sighed. “It feels wrong, y’know? I mean...I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“You’re really doing the opposite of hurting people though, I mean you’re making them happy.”

“Not happy, hysterical. Yeah it can be happy, but not in the way we’re doing it. Trust me, it’s not fun to watch.”

Keefe thought for a moment.

“Hey...your parents have that griffin, right?”

~*~

The sound of a wedding march echoed through the castle lawn as Sophie was led down the isle by her father. Keefe guessed she looked quite lovely in her dress, Biana, who stood as her maid of honor, was looking at her more like a husband would than him. He stood frozen at the alter, Fitz beside him as his best man and everyone else interspersed within the crowd for optimal dramatic effect. 

Sophie reached him at long last. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t look sickly this time. Her face steeled with determination gave him confidence. 

The guy marrying them together was one of Cassius’ officials. Keefe didn’t bother to remember most names anymore, but this one was a...Moland? Noland? Something like that. 

Everyone winced in unison as the man started talking, Keefe’s ears began to ring a bit at the volume.

“Lords and Ladies, we are gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of our young Prince Keefe Sencen and the lovely Miss Sophie Foster-Ruewen.”

Keefe only realized he was fidgeting when Fitz subtly reached out and held his hand down from where it had been tapping on his leg.

“We are honored to be joined by so many friends and family. The Goom and Bride are overjoyed you all could be here to participate in this most important occasion.

“There are few greater joys in life than finding someone we truly connect with. Creatives have many names for this, a spark, clicking, but let us say today what it truly is: love.”

Keefe looked out into the crowd, he caught the eye of Dex. The redhead’s brow was crinkled and his cheeks flushed slightly. He pat the pocket of his coat in confirmation. 

“Love is what these two young souls have found in each other. In love, our truest selves are revealed. We open ourselves up and break down our walls. The veil we present to the public is lifted so we can be loved for who we are, not who we pretend to be.”

Keefe struggled to not roll his eyes. He took a final look around the room, each person nodding as he met eyes with them.

“Over these months, our Bride and Groom have developed a strong bond. This bond will only get stronger throughout the course of their marriage. Let us revel in the joy and love displayed in front of us today. May we treasure these memories as Prince Keefe and Miss Sophie get set to begin their new life together.”

Keefe took a deep breath, knowing the next words out of his mouth.

“If anyone has cause to object the forming of this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

3, 2, 1…

“I object!” 

0.

Stina first. “This marriage was meant to be mine! She’s just a dirty commoner!”

“How dare you!” Fitz cut in before anyone else could. “I object because I love her! Sophie is meant to be with me. Maruca has admitted her love to Keefe, let her marry him!”

Biana gasped dramatically. “Maruca you snake! You knew I loved him.”

“You only loved his title!” She screamed, standing up to match the rest. “And Fitz, if you’re so concerned with what Stina has to say about Sophie, you should hear what Wylie has to say.”

Fitz walked in Wylie’s direction and he stood. “Why you little-”

Just then, Keefe heard it. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.

BOOM.

An explosion burst a small part of the glass dome’s ceiling. Sophie let out an ear-splitting whistle and the griffin flew straight through the hole as the glass fell. Screams erupted through the room as the animal landed on chairs and destroyed the alter. 

The screams only got louder as the room was lit up as bright as the sun before swiftly being plunged into darkness. Those involved in the plan used the opportunity to gather themselves at the exit. With the exception of Biana and Marella who, if all went as planned, stood prepared by the very flammable reception tables. 

The darkness lifted and people quickly ran out, some of the more stuck up nobles guided by guards. Once everyone was out safely, Keefe watched as a red glow started and grew. Marella wasn’t visible, but anyone paying attention could see the two sets of footprints forming in the grass.

People ran farther from the dome swiftly filling with fire. It spread quickly, but before it could reach the outside, Linh yelled. 

“Everyone back up!”

She pulled water from a nearby pond, making a large wave that, while it put out the fires, crushed the dome in its entirety. 

~*~

Two hours later, the guests sat huddled in the ballroom of the castle, many wrapped in blankets and eating soup the kitchen served to recover from what they had been through. Through the window, Keefe saw the Ruewen parents attempting to calm their griffin after taking a long time to wrangle it. 

They were good at keeping secrets, they brought the animal here in the first place. 

Just as he started crossing the room to go talk to Dex, he felt a heavy hand grip his shoulder.

Cassius looked at him with a glare that could kill ten men. He wordlessly guided Keefe in the direction of his office and the prince obliged. 

When Keefe walked in the door, it was messier than he had ever seen it. Even his father himself was disheveled, his typically slick-backed hair uncharacteristically sloppy and his tunic smudged with soot. He sat down at his desk and heaved a sigh.  

“Do you know why I brought you in here?” 

“Because my wedding was destroyed?”

“Because we are going to plan a new one. I need you to collect everyone who had objections to get this idiotic drama cleared for the records. I’ve sent for Councillor Bronte, he can officiate you. You will have a wedding today, whether you get the ceremony or not.”

“One problem with that, Biana and Marella haven’t been found.”

Technically the truth. They were to hide in the Queen’s Gardens until further notice, but the Guard Force didn’t know that. 

Cassius was silent for a moment, his face hidden in his hands.

Then he started convulsing.

No, not convulsing.

Laughing.

“Of course!” He got up from his chair in one movement. “Of course they haven’t been found! Why am I even surprised anymore.” He threw his hands in the air. “Nothing ever goes right!” He spoke through his teeth as he pushed everything off of his desk.

“MY MARRIAGE” He cleared a bookshelf with one arm, dumping the junk to the ground. 

“MY LEADERSHIP!” He knocked over his chair.

“MY SON!” He grabbed the painting from the wall and threw it down. 

“ALL DISAPPOINTMENTS!” He pushed over his desk, it landed with a loud crash.

“And now this too? Nothing ever goes right! No matter how hard I try! No matter how much work I put in! Everything ends in failure!”

“It’s a good thing this was my wedding and not yours then.”

The door behind them opened without a knock. 

“King Cassius, is this a bad time?” Bronte looked at the office with contempt. 

“No, now works.”

Despite not being formally invited in, Bronte sat down on the overturned desk and pulled out a folder of paperwork. 

“So...we’re trying to do an emergency wedding, yes?”

Cassius nodded.

“And from my understanding, there were 1,2...4 objections that haven’t been cleared?”

Cassius nodded again.

“Then I’m afraid I can’t perform a wedding. Legally or morally considering the fact that fate itself seems against this union. It is traditional, when a wedding goes so badly, to accept that something in the universe is not accepting of the marriage and call it off.”

“I understand, Councillor. However, I am the goddamned king and you will do as I say!

Bronte was unfazed.

“Actually sir, with only a month until the coronation you have resigned some of your duties, as is customary. You don’t have full control over the law at the moment, you signed a contract.”

He pulled said contract out of his pocket, displaying the signature, before putting it back in.

“Prince Keefe and you now have split control, as you had when you had a spouse. You both must agree if you are to override a law.”

Cassius hid his face once again.

“Go. Get out of my sight.”

Keefe turned to leave but his father grabbed him.

“Just Bronte.”

The man shrugged and closed the door behind him.

“Keefe...do you know why I was so eager to get you in as king?”

Keefe said nothing. That was one thing he couldn’t figure out himself. 

“I am a shitty, shitty, king. I was never made to rule. Your mother? Yes. Yes she was. Me? No. Not at all. I thought I could do this job, I thought it would be cushy, I thought I’d have all the power in the kingdom as well as riches upon riches without having to work. I was wrong.

“I wanted to train you to do this better than I ever could. I wanted to make sure you were going to be prepared.”

“No.” Keefe’s eyes started to water in anger. “You wanted to train me up to take your job as soon as possible. You didn’t want the responsibility so you decided to hand it off to your child. It’s just like...it’s just like Mom. You were the judge and the jury but you were too much of a coward to be the executioner or even a mourner. You hand off all your problems for someone else to deal with. You’re a fucking coward and nothing else.”

“I cared Keefe!-”

“NO YOU DIDN’T.” Tears streamed down his face. “You never cared about me, you never cared about Mom, you never cared for anything or anybody but yourself. 

“I don’t love Sophie and I never will, but you tried to make me marry her because you loved the idea of the strong son with a quiet woman. That shows how much you care.”

“It was what I thought was best.”

“WELL YOU WERE WRONG.”

Keefe walked out and slammed the door. 

~*~

Keefe went to his room and sobbed. He rarely indulged himself in crying but today was one of the days he let himself. It was maybe an hour later, when he was out of tears and just laid staring up at his ceiling, that he heard a knock on the door.

When he opened it, no one stood there. Just a small note in scratchy handwriting. 

“Meet us at the library, midnight”

~*~

Keefe carefully sneaked through the castle halls, only the candle he held lit his way. He slowly cracked open the library door.

“SURPRISE!”

Suddenly a whole group of people attacked him in a hug, rainbow lights filled the normally dull room. 

“W-what is all this?”

“It’s a surprise party silly!” For the first time since he’d seen her, Sophie looked truly happy. “We don’t have to get married! And we got out of it without any serious injuries.”

Fitz pulled him over to a table. “C’mon, Bi stole some leftover cake no one ate from the kitchens.”

He looked around for Dex hoping to see his beaming smile and instead saw him sitting solemnly in the corner. He didn’t look Keefe’s way. 

“Hey Fee, are you okay?” Apparently Fitz just now noticed his still puffy face.

“Yeah um...just my dad being a jerk again. Don’t worry about it.”

Fitz shrugged it off, he knew about jerky dads.

Or he used to, anyway. That bastard Alden ran away a long time ago. 

Keefe tried to partake in the festivities but he found it hard. He was going to be king in a month, and hopefully a good one at that. Just about anything was better than Cassius. He should be celebrating right now. But...there was still something bothering him. 

It was approaching the wee hours of the morning as people slowly trickled out. Wylie had long since dropped the rainbow lights. They had been celebrating for hours, Dex was silent nearly the whole time. 

“Alright.” Fitz said through a yawn. “I’m tapping out. Night Fee. Last one standing has to clean everything up.”

Keefe nodded. When he finally left the room and they were all alone, he approached Dex. Still silent in the corner.

“Okay, what’s going on Techmaster? You seem down.”

“No it’s just...it’s hard to explain.”

“Take your time, if you’d like.” Keefe sat down criss cross in front of him.

His lips went pouty in a way that made Keefe realize he was staring at his lips.

“You’ll think I’m weird. And clingy. And jealous. Honestly I shouldn’t even be saying any of this right now but I make bad decisions at 3 A.M. I guess.”

“Hey, you can tell me anything.” Keefe started to reach his hand out to Dex before remembering he shouldn’t read his emotions. Dex grabbed it before he could pull away. A lot of sadness and hurt there. He quickly stopped reading, though their hands stayed locked. 

“It’s just...there’s this person. This guy. And...and I thought maybe he liked me but now I think he has a boyfriend. I’m not sure though.”

Keefe’s heart dropped. “Well...boyfriend status can be changed.”

Dex chuckled. “I don’t know, they have nicknames for each other and everything.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Looks serious.”

It was silent for a moment, then Dex spoke.

“Look...don’t worry about it, alright? It’s really no big deal. I’ll get over it, I guess.”

“Maybe he likes you back.”

“I highly doubt it. I’m...I’m not good enough for him. I’m just a servant. He deserves someone better.”

“Why does being a servant mean you’re bad? I’ve met some nobles that are real assholes. You’re way better than all of those fuckers.”

Dex laughed again, wow Keefe could listen to that forever. 

Dex sighed. “You know what? Screw it.”

He seemed to steel himself before saying his next sentence. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. 

“Are you dating Fitz?”

“What?” Keefe laughed awkwardly. “No, no, no. He’s just a friend.”

“Oh. Then...who were you talking about at the gardens? I- I thought it was Fitz and you guys got together and-”

“No, goodness no. Fitz is great and all but...well he’s just not my type. And he’s been dating Tam for a while now.”

“Oh I uh...I didn’t notice.” Dex’s face flushed furiously. “Who were you talking about then?”

Keefe met his eyes. “Depends, who were you talking about?”

He didn’t answer but his silence spoke more than any words could.

Keefe scooted closer and cupped Dex’s face in his hand. He looked into the boys periwinkle eyes.

“Dex, can I kiss you?”

“Please?”

And they did.

When Keefe heard descriptions of kissing the same gender, they always said that it felt wrong somehow. But this...this only felt right. Like he had been waiting his whole life for the moment when he met the gardener boy’s cracked lips. They weren’t soft, and the kiss was a bit awkward, but it just felt...correct. Keefe chased the kiss slightly when they finally had to pull away. 

A shy smile spread across Dex’s face.

Keefe leaned back in.

~*~

Keefe walked out onto the newly-built stage in front of the castle and looked upon his people. His ceremonial robe was itchy and too large for him.

Cassius was no where to be seen. He had just...run away. The day of the wedding was the day he broke. The kingdom had been sovereignless for the last month, coronations couldn't be rushed. 

Typically the previous king would place the crown upon the head of the new ruler. Because Cassius seemed to run away in the night with nothing more than a clump of riches, Keefe got to choose who would crown him. 

“Friends and subjects of the Kingdom of Eternalia,” Oralie started. “Today, we crown a new ruler. A ruler to put the people first. A ruler who will not sleep until every one of his people is fed. A ruler to unite us.”

Keefe never realized how long winded Oralie was. Looking into the crowd, he spotted Sophie. She wore a sour expression.

Sophie never was a fan of Oralie, she wouldn’t tell him why. 

“Prince Keefe has shown a care for his people deeper than any king before him.”

She could say that again. Keefe found Dex in the crowd, absolutely beaming.

“In the time I have had the honor of teaching him in my lessons, he has shown a willingness to learn. An ability to adapt. And a knowledge of the system as well as its successes and failures deeper than anyone else his age.

And yes, it is truly a shame that a king must be crowned this young, but I have no doubt that in time he will do right by our great kingdom.”

Oralie walked over to him, her pink flowy dress trailing behind her. She picked up the ceremonial crown off the pillow that a servant was holding.

“Prince Keefe of Eternalia, do you promise to uphold the law and do what is right for your people to the best of you abilities?”

“I do.”

“And do you promise to preserve the honor of our nation?”

“I do.”

A loud voice came from the crowd.

“AND DO YOU PROMISE TO NOT LET CASSI-ASS BACK INTO THE THRONE ROOM?” Keefe could tell it was Marella, but no one else had to know that.

He cracked a smile. “I do.”

Oralie chuckled too.

“In that case, Keefe Sencen of Eternalia, with this crown I deem you King of Eternalia. May you have a long and peaceful reign.”

The heavy crown was placed upon his head. The crowd cheered and chanted, his friends yelled the loudest. Keefe saw as Fitz lifted Biana on his shoulders, they all hugged and screamed excitedly. 

Who he noticed most of all was Dex. His bright smile in that moment was worth everything he’d been through. 

Maybe he had found someone he didn’t mind being with.

~*~

Like most days, it was a somewhat quiet day at the castle. 

Keefe looked up from his painting to study the gardens, once called the Queen’s Gardens, but that was ages ago. The wall that once surrounded the beautiful landscape was knocked down a very long time ago. 

Keefe smiled as he spotted Dex tending to some ivy that had grown on one of the ancient statues. Even being a king couldn’t keep his husband from assisting the gardeners. 

Tomorrow, some old friends were visiting. That in itself wasn’t particularly special, as they visited at least twice a year (usually more), but tomorrow was special because it was the anniversary of the Great Wedding Destruction as historians had come to call it. 

How many years had it been? 300? 400? One tends to forget. 

After 50 years or so, they admitted to planning the whole event. By then, Keefe had already convened with the councillors to pass same gender marriage and gotten married to Dex. The law couldn’t exactly do much, it had been a while and no one was injured so any fear of being charged with treason was history.

A few minutes later, Dex trudged into Keefe’s art studio. 

“Hey lovey, do you know where I put the high-power garden clippers?”

“I hope in your lab, but you might want to check the kitchens.”

“Why would they be in the kitchens?”

“Heard some buzzing coming from there and last time I saw the nieces they had frosting all over their faces.”

Chaos ran in the Dizznee family. 

Dex sighed as they heard a loud bang followed by an “Oops.” from downstairs. 

“Gosh if Rex doesn’t pick up his children soon...I won’t do anything but I’ll be sour about it.”

Keefe chuckled. “You might want to go check on them, wouldn’t want them to break your invention. If they haven’t already.”

Dex hummed noncommittally. “Whatcha drawing?”  

“Just a boring landscape...that happens to include a dragon.”

Dex leaned over the easel. “It’s a very pretty boring landscape that happens to include a dragon.”

“Thank you very much, dearest.” Keefe leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Now you may want to actually check on the girls. I don’t think Elwin can heal severed fingers.”

“Yeah, okay.”

As he walked from the room that used to be Cassius’ office he yelled, “Emily! Leah! Please don’t be killing each other-”

Keefe just smiled. He did that a lot nowadays. 

He hoped these days would last forever.