#technically goes with something I haven't written yet

[folightening]

Reunited at last

Too pretty not to share. Commissioned by bilo_art on twitter.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 3

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle* Disagreeing amongst partners, disappointments, unexpected turns, denial of feelings, unwanted revelations. Summary: It's Valentine's Day and no one's date seems to be going quite the way they expected. Notes: Apologies for the posting delay, my lovelies! Please enjoy 💖

Ch1 ~ Ch 2

When you still haven't heard from Marcus the next day, you're really pretending not to be bothered by it. You go about your work as usual, take care of your guests, manage a few nibbles of lunch, and work through the Valentine's check-ins with Malachi to make sure that everything goes smoothly. The whole day is chaotic and the inn is completely sold out, and yet you can't stop glancing down at your phone to see if you've gotten a text back.

You've just slipped into the kitchen after your shift to see Sydney after her spa-and-afternoon-tea date when the restaurant's hostess on duty comes in with a reservation slip to add to the board. The restaurant is basically fully booked now, with a few last minute cancellations and reservations working themselves out throughout the day, and a part of you wishes you could just stay here tonight and keep working, but you promised Sam. And you promised your mother's office that there would be social media updates tonight. This date might as well be public, so there is no backing out now.

“Hey babe!” Sydney grins as she looks up from the cake she is decorating, the piping bag in her hand full of dark chocolate buttercream. “Checking in before going to get ready?”

“Yup. Just came in to say hi and check the last minute reservations.” You take the slip from Sydney’s hostess with a flourish to tack it up on the board, and immediately make some sort of inhuman squawking noise that has your best friend whirling around in the kitchen.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She demands, rushing over to the board. From the noise you made, it’s either incredibly good or incredibly bad.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Not technically, anyway. But you hand over the slip with obvious discomfort — or maybe a tinge of something else deeper and darker — on your face. “It’s…I guess…Marcus has a date tonight.”

“What? Oh…” she takes the slip and reads it, frowning slightly as she looks up to see you fidgeting and looking away from the paper. “Well, um, I guess that means he will be here and it’s good that you are going out with Sam.”

The frown that has formed on your face cuts deep, and you put down the empty mug you had grabbed to pour yourself a late afternoon cup of coffee with a slam. “Of course it’s a good thing.” You state unequivocally, not wanting to deal with or admit to the burning feeling in your chest. “He’s my boyfriend. It’s a very good thing.”

Sydney doesn’t comment, just pins the reservation to the allotted slot: 7 pm for two. There’s a note on the reservation to have a bottle of champagne brought to the table with dessert, so she’s not sure what to make of that. It seems unlikely that he’s taking his mother or sister out for a romantic meal.

“I have to get changed.” Comes the unnecessary announcement as you pace a little square around the corner of the kitchen only to end up facing Sydney again. “I just wanted to say hi, and I hope you and Juan had a good day.” Before this…intrusion into your thoughts, you had wanted to know everything. Every single thing they ate at tea and did at the spa. Now you feel like throwing up from pure discomfort.

“We did.” It seems wrong to rub it in your face right now, since you seem to be having some sort of reaction to the idea that Marcus would book a date here. She has to wonder if there’s meaning behind it, or if he had just imagined bringing someone here because it was a wonderful little place. The dining room of the restaurant is intimate, perfect for romance, especially tonight with the lights lower and the decor that had been brought out for the holiday.

“Good. I—okay. I’m going to go up, then. Malachi has a full reservation book and there’s an extra bellhop on tonight for the full house.” Sweeping out of the room is probably an overstatement, but you certainly move fast enough that Agent Bailey has to hop to in order to keep up with you as you head for the back stairs. Suddenly you have all the nervous energy in the world to walk all the way up to your apartment instead of taking the elevator.

“Okay…bye.” Sydney calls out, eyes wide at the dramatic exit and she pulls out her phone to send a quick text to her husband.

You might have tried a little harder than was strictly necessary to look good tonight. Not because Marcus might see you — that doesn’t make any sense — but to try to shut up all the whirling thoughts in your head about your loyalties and your attachments. You’ve been with Sam for almost a full year. It’s eleven months next week. And he deserves your complete attention. So if he gets you in your best little black dress and the earrings he gave you for your last birthday? That’s good, too.

Sam is nothing if not punctual, actually showing up fifteen minutes before you needed to leave. One of his office aides had run out to get you some flowers, now in hand, and he smiles widely when he sees you. “Wow.” He hums, whistling appreciatively. “I feel underdressed.” He jokes, wearing a smart suit like he normally does.

“You haven’t been underdressed since the day you were born.” Sam is perpetually put together, so you have definitely stepped up your game from the jeans and cheeky blouses that would normally have been good date clothes in the past. “Hi honey.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He offers you the flowers with a smile. “You look incredible. These are only half as beautiful as you.”

“Thank you, honey.” The large bouquet is all red and pink buds, clearly done up for the holiday, and you let the day’s earlier tension roll off your shoulders as you inhale the sweet scent. “Let me put these in the vase in my office and we can get going?” Upstairs in your place they’re beautiful, but downstairs means anyone who sticks their head in your office will see them.

“Of course.” He nods and looks towards Agent Bailey. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Agent Bailey.” He tells her politely. “Would you mind following us to the restaurant tonight?”

“No surprise stops, Congressman?” Following behind isn’t unusual, but Bailey still had to do her job. Any unexpected additions to the night just complicate matters.

His smile tightens slightly. “Just the itinerary you have planned out.” He comments, slightly irked that he has to have plans approved through the Secret Service. It’s not exactly his idea of pleasant.

“Ready to go?” It only takes a moment to get your flowers in water, and you reach for Sam’s hand. After spending your time getting ready reminding yourself to focus on your relationship and stop being so wishy-washy, you’re trying to put your best everything forward for tonight.

“Absolutely.” Sam smiles broadly, his shoulders rolling back and he puffs his chest out proudly. “Let’s go get romantic.”

The restaurant that was picked out is small and welcoming, a  homespun but upscale bistro owned by a couple from New Orleans that moved up to Maryland sometime during the raising of their children. You had read the website while you were getting ready for tonight. The place boasts an impressive menu and a fan favorite étouffée, as well as an entire family working every aspect of the restaurant. From what you can tell, it looks like a perfect date spot. When you pull up it’s brimming over with people, too, which makes you even more excited. Busy means tasty, of course.

“Well this looks promising.” Sam comments, looking over at you. “What did you say the menu was?” He hadn’t really paid attention to where it was, just that you had said it was a good choice for a dinner out and photographs. You know how to work PR from your mother’s campaign, something he admires.

“New American through a New Orleans lens.” That’s what the website had said, and you could swear you already hear jazz pouring out the front door.

“Interesting.” He doesn’t particularly care for spicy foods, his stomach never agrees with it, but he trusts your judgement. “It’s perfect for the photographer and I’m assuming there’s some heartwarming backstory to the place?”

“Family owned and family run.” You can practically hear the silent commentary in his head, and you touch his arm as he holds the door for you. “I read the reviews in advance. Not everything is spicy. Don’t worry.”

“You know me too well.” He throws you a grateful look and leans forward to open the door for you to enter the bistro.

“Good evening.” The hostess at the front of the restaurant knows exactly who you are, just like everyone working tonight does. Just like their entire family does. Getting a visit from the Secret Service and having a discreetly placed photographer arrive just a little while ago gives the whole night an extra flare of the unbelievable. With two menus in her hand, she smiles a shaky, bright grin. “Please come right this way.”

Sam’s hand is on your back, knowing that a lot of eyes are turning from the staff to the patrons. It’s expected when your significant other is a recognizable face. He doesn’t miss that they put you and him at a table in the middle of the room.

There are small vases of red carnations on every table, and candles, and neat purple tablecloths that look like they have been given a little extra pressing for the occasion. You thank the girl politely and smile, not thrilled to have all eyes on you but already knowing that there is nothing you can do about it.

Sam is the one to pull out your chair and help you sit down before he pulls his own chair out. “Shall we order a bottle of wine?” He asks. “Or would that not look good?”

“How about a half bottle?” You suggest, showing him the part of drinks menu that lists half bottles. “Celebratory but responsible.”

“Perfect.” Same agrees, knowing. It wouldn’t be a positive image to have drinking and driving be recorded.

“Whatever you want to choose.” He’s pickier than you are in general, and definitely about wine, so it’s up to him.

He smiles at you in gratitude and immediately dives into the wine list to see what they have available.

“Oysters Rockefeller to start?” As a Maryland boy he loves seafood, and there’s some sort of odd determination in your mind to prove to yourself that your focus is entirely on Sam.

“Absolutely.” He agrees while wholeheartedly and when your server approaches, he finds in a polite smile to give them.

He orders the wine and your appetizer, and beams a smile at the flustered waitress before the two of you are left — sort of — alone again. Agent Bailey has gone to sit with the designated White House photographer at a separate, discreet table. It leaves the two of you to pretend that this is just as normal a date night as any other. “So,” you hum, looking over the menu. “How was work?”

“It was good.” He had kept his office hours short today, like most of the House, so he could get out on time. Plenty of other members had plans or just didn’t show up at all today. “Worked on the bill I want to introduce.”

“How close are you to having the draft done?” The House Judiciary Committee has been an important posting for him, and though you can’t claim to understand the nuance of every single detail of the bill he has been working on, you know that it is a big offering to make from such a new member of the committee.

“First draft is almost complete.” He tells you proudly. “Only a few more hours of work to be honest. My team has been working hard on it.”

“The first bill you’re sponsoring yourself is a big deal. I’m glad you’re proud of it.” Given how much of his work is paperwork and legal-ease, it’s good to have something tangible to work on and be proud of. Certainly not everyone who works in the government can say the same.

“Thank you.” He smiles, leaning back as the waiter comes back with the glasses of wine. “Hopefully it’s just the first of many.”

"I hope so, too." He has high hopes for his career, and you know he'll work hard for it. There's just the tiny voice in the back of your head reminding you that he might not value your success as highly that is bothering you. Still, you raise your glass to him and smile. "Happy Valentine's Day."

“Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.” Sam smiles and taps his glass to yours before taking a sip. “Have you given any thought to my proposal?”

“I thought we could talk about it tonight?” The mention of a proposal specifically makes you shiver in a way you didn’t know you could shiver, but here you are. “Starting with…the logistics of it all.”

He admires the practicality of your statement and nods. “What are your concerns?” He can hear that you have them and hopes that the two of you can come to some kind of agreement. He’s negotiated a lot in his position and knows there is always give and take for things to work.

“I…” He’s practical. Pragmatic. And you know that. It’s something that you have always said you liked about him because it balances against your tendency to dream. “I want to move forward. Take another step.” In your impulse, you reach across the table and take his hand. “But I’m not sure I’m ready yet. So I’d like to do it slowly.”

“Maybe a drawer for when you stay over?” He offers, lifting a brow. “Space for a toothbrush?”

“That’s kind of what I was thinking, yeah.” A relieved smile spreads, glad to see that he isn’t upset at your still moving slowly in this relationship. Moving too fast in the past is what you blame some very serious relationship failures on. “Maybe try to see each other more than just once a week? Work permitting, of course. I know we’re both busy.”

“That was kind of the point of moving in together.” Sam reminds you, although he’s not put out by it. “Maybe we can, but you will have to spend less time at the inn.” He hums. “You are always there. You even live there.”

"I know." That's on you, and you know it. But you still shift in your seat like you've been called to the principle's office. "I have to cut back on late nights. Malachi is more than capable of running the place any time of day and the new night manager is doing really well."

Sam nods, it’s a conversation that he’s had with you several times but nothing has changed so far. “I understand being passionate about your work.” He reminds you with a smile, reaching for your hand. “But I also want you to be passionate about other things too.” He squeezes your fingers. “Maybe kids, one day?”

"You know I want kids." That is never something that you have hemmed or hawed about. Wanting a marriage and a family is something you were pretty up front about. "Kids, a dog, the whole white picket fence thing."

“I know.” It’s a good thing too, because he wants the same thing. Although he knows that can’t really happen if you are running yourself ragged at the inn. “Just wanted to make sure that was still the case.” He jokes.

"It is." Your fingers squeeze his gently. "I haven't changed my mind about what I want."

“That’s good.” Sam smiles and feels a little better about the fact you aren’t jumping at the chance to move in with him. He had expected less resistance if he was honest with himself.

"So the next time I come over I'll bring some things to keep at your place?" A little bag of work clothes and duplicate toiletries at his house sounds positively quaint, but very sweet.

“If that’s what you want.” He agrees, leaning back again when the waiter comes with the appetizer. “Are you still planning on staying tonight?”

You pause long enough to thank the waiter and for both of you to order your entrees and have a sip of your wine after the waiter goes again. "Of course I was planning on it. It's what we talked about. But...I felt like packing a bag to bring over tonight felt a little...presumptuous? I didn't want to jinx it."

“Nothing presumptuous about it.” Sam disagrees with a smile, knowing he would have loved if you had started bringing things over. “But we will do things on your schedule, as long as our end goal is the same.”

End goal. That part still bags at you a little and you still aren’t sure if you’re overreacting. Marcus seemed to agree with us, and so did Sydney…and it’s making you wonder. But will it ruin the night to make a fuss over it? There’s really no way to tell. “I want to make sure we’re on the same page about all of it.” You decide, making sure there is no worry or waver in your voice as you reach for an oyster. It’s just a conversation. Just a conversation with your boyfriend. No big deal. Just clearing the air.

“Good.” There’s a moment’s pause where the two of you start to split the appetizer, each of you tasting it and Sam hums in approval. “I say we live together for at least a year.” He looks up at you. “What do you think?”

“At least a year before what?” The clarification seems important, since the two of you seem to have slightly different expectations. It’s slight, but it’s there.

Sam chuckles slightly. “Before the next step?” He asks playfully, shrugging slightly.

“That makes sense.” But not knowing exactly what he meant makes you feel a little foolish, so you huff a laugh and have another sip of wine. “Of course. That makes perfect sense.”

“You seem off tonight.” Sam tilts his head curiously. “Fight with Sydney? Never thought I would see that.”

“No, god no, nothing like that.” A fight with Sydney is about the farthest thing from the truth. The trouble is…you can’t really tell Sam the truth. It would be a ticking time bomb in the middle of your relationship. To not only think that you might have met your soulmate but to suddenly find yourself caring immensely about what that could mean? Hell, even being attracted to him? It would be a disaster. And you can’t blame him because you would feel exactly the same way if Sam came to you after meeting the girl that the universe says is his perfect match. Instead? All you can really do is make an excuse. “I haven’t really been feeling myself for the past few days.” That is very much true. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let it affect tonight.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Sam’s brows pull down. “Do we need to ask them to box up our meals? The photographer can take their photos now and we can go home if you aren’t up for a night out.” Despite his own views of how the night would go, he would never drag you around if you’d rather be in bed sleeping.

It’s sweet of him to offer, but you know he would be disappointed. And, unfortunately, no amount of sleep is going to pull you out of the Marcus-shaped funk you have found yourself in. No, sleep won’t help. And tonight is supposed to be about you and Sam, so it’s going to be. “That’s okay,” you assure him, shaking your head and promising yourself that the smile on your face won’t falter again tonight. “I’d rather spend tonight celebrating with you.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” He’s giving you a doubtful look, but he doesn’t call the waiter over. “Maybe it’s just that you need a night away.” He suggests. “I have a late morning scheduled so we can sleep in.”

“Unfortunately, I have an early morning.” You bite your lip, knowing he’ll hate that. “We have a big event tomorrow night and they’re showing up early in the day. Early bird check in, venue set up, all of it.”

Sam is quiet for a minute and then looks down at his plate again. “Well, I guess that can’t be helped.”

"It's all hands on deck right away." And suddenly you feel horribly guilty about it, even though it's your job. It's something you do out of love and a deep passion for the industry that you've chosen to work in. But a morning of just sleeping in sounds so nice.

“You don’t need to explain.” It’s not like you would change your plans anyway, but it definitely sours the idea he had for the next morning. “You have priorities.”

“Yes, I do. Just like you would if you had a day full of meetings to handle.” He sounds cold, and it bothers you so much more than you would have thought. Like you’d had disappointed your parents with a bad grade on your report card instead of telling your partner than you’re anticipating a demanding work day. “I would support you if that was the case, so I don’t understand why you seem so upset with me.”

“Because we had talked about it.” Sam reminds you. “Two days ago.” He clenches his jaw and takes a breath before releasing it. “You’re right, you have work and it’s important.” He agrees. “Forget I said anything.”

“We did talk about it two days ago. And we talked about me staying over, but not about doing anything the next day. Because I told you weeks ago when this group booked their party that it was going to be a big deal.” Barely managing not to drop your fork in the table, your eyes drop to your lap and you can feel the pressure of disappointment driving at the backs of your eyes like fire and you have to take a deep breath to steady yourself. “I feel like we haven’t been communicating as well as we used to.”

“After we talked about you staying over, I asked if you wanted to have a lazy morning and you said ‘sounds good’.” Sam realizes you had told him about the booking. “We got our signals crossed. It happens. We will need to work on it.”

“Yeah.” You nod, quietly sitting back in your chair again while being very aware of the pairs of eyes that have all turned to witness the First Daughter argue with her boyfriend over their romantic Valentine’s dinner. Fuck. Mom’s going to kill me. “Yeah,” you agree with a vague nod of your head. “We’re just a little off. We’ll work on it.”

“It’s okay.” Sam promises with a smile, reaching out and taking your hand again. He doesn’t want you to be photographed looking unhappy, because then rumors would fly. Public figures aren’t allowed to have bad moments. “We will make the best of tonight.” He tells you. “Or…we can go back to your apartment if you’d prefer?” He offers. “That way you can sleep a little longer?”

"You normally hate staying at my apartment." The water pressure is better at his house, you'll give him that. And the bed is bigger. But the breakfast at your place is far superior every single time.

“I know, but I also know that you have an early morning and I would like to compromise.” He offers.

His hand fits around yours, anchoring you to the table and to him, and you remind yourself to breath. A miscommunication isn't an argument. And even if it is, an argument isn't the end of the world. "I would really like that," you agree, squeezing his hand just a touch. Trying to show him silently how much you appreciate that he's willing to bend a little for you. It has never bothered you that you go to him — stay at his place, attend his work and social events, usually let him pick restaurants for dates as well. But it's nice to feel a little give in your direction as well.

“Alright, then it’s settled.” He nods quickly and smiles at you. “We will have to swing by my house to pick up a change of clothes though.”

"We can do that." You'll tell Agent Bailey after dinner, and the message will get relayed. It will all be fine. Whatever is causing this gap between you and Sam, you'll figure it out. Starting with a little bit of compromise. "And tonight we'll clean out a drawer for you at my place. We'll each have a drawer."

It’s on the tip if his tongue to refuse, to remind you he doesn’t like staying at your place. It’s too busy and he likes privacy in his home, not people coming and going at all times. “It’s a plan.” He decides to say instead, happy that the meal is coming out.

The restaurant is busy tonight, full up with reservations for dates and girls’ nights out. Tables are packed full and the kitchen is bustling, but Malachi sits calmly at the reception desk making sure that all of the inn’s reservations for the night are being taken care of to the best of his ability. The less you have to worry about tomorrow with that incoming party, the better.

Marcus smiles as he walks up to the desk, guiding Vanessa up with a warm hand on her lower back. He hadn’t wanted to be alone, especially on Valentine’s Day, so he had once again tried one of the dating apps. Tinder Without Marks was kind of the opposite of Mate Marks and he appreciated that. There wasn’t any emphasis on tattoos or scars, just on personalities. He had been talking to Vanessa since you had bailed on his offer of dinner and tonight was the first date. “Reservation for Pike.” He greets Malachi warmly.

"Special Agent Pike!" Malachi was not going to forget that face or those shoulders anytime soon, and he smiles genuinely for what seems like the first time all night. Holidays are always a lot of extra running around. "Reservation for the restaurant tonight?" He would have noticed the name if the FBI agent had reserved a room at the inn. He definitely would have noticed that.

“Yes.” Marcus nods and smiles. “How are you Malachi?” He remembers the concierge’s name and greets him like a friend. “I knew that coming here would be a fantastic treat.”

“And…Miss D’Amario.” When the concierge’s eyes light on the woman beside Special Agent Pike, he nearly bursts out laughing. This is going to be the biggest gossip amongst the staff. Multiple staffs. “Does chef know to expect you? Or should I let her know?”

Marcus tilts his head and looks at Vanessa. “I didn’t realize you’ve been here before.” He had told her where he had made reservations, but she hadn’t said. “Do you come often?”

“Once or twice.” She admits with a sheepish smile as Malachi comes out from behind the desk to escort them into the restaurant. “Usually just to run errands. My boss…he comes here a lot.”

“Interesting coincidence.” Marcus muses as the two of them follow Malachi. “You never actually said who you worked for.” He reminds her.

She hadn’t. That’s true. Because on a dating website all kinds of information can get taken out of context or photoshopped into other things. All she had said before now is that she works on Capitol Hill. “Congressman Chase.” She tells her date, a little more secure in handing this information over after having looked into him and agreeing to this dinner. A girl can never be too careful, after all. “I’m the senior aide in his office.”

To his credit, Marcus doesn’t freeze, although his eyes blow wide. He can hear Malachi snicker quietly, although the agent isn’t sure why. Even though he doesn’t have anything against the congressman, the knowledge that she is his senior aide dulls the excitement of the date almost immediately. “I met him just the other day.” Marcus admits. “My friend and former colleague is the event planner here.”

“You know Juan?” Vanessa seems to ease immediately, the tension of meeting a stranger off the Internet soothing with the knowledge that Juan Badillo is an excellent judge of character. “Okay. So you know who owns the inn, then. And why I’m running errands here fairly often.” She smiles when Marcus pulls out her chair for her and thanks him before sitting. “I’ve always wanted to try the restaurant but never have a chance.”

Marcus smiles and nods, even though he’s not exactly sure how this dynamic would work. “Then it’s a good thing I got reservations here.” He tells her and picks up the menu. “Do you want some wine? I think I would like some.”

“That sounds great.” She nods happily, not catching the change in his demeanor even in the last few seconds.

He’s still not going to be rude. Vanessa is a lovely woman, and he shouldn’t feel guilty for being here on a date with her. Not even if you know her and she works for your boyfriend. “Are you a red, white or rosé kind of woman?” He asks, scanning the selections and looking back up at her.

“Usually white. But if you like red I’m happy to try something new.” Vanessa is happy to let Marcus take the lead, not feeling strong enough one way or the other to have a preference.

“There’s a wonderful Prosecco on the menu.” Marcus offers, lifting his brows. “It’s Valentine’s Day after all, and we aren’t alone. We should celebrate.”

"Perfect." Her smile spreads again and she sits back, looking over the menu and regarding the man across from her. "So what department of the FBI are you in? We haven't really talked about work yet."

“Art Crimes.” He supplies wondering where you and Sam are. A discreet glance around the restaurant was a relief and a disappointment not to come up with you. “I’m actually the head of the department.”

"So...is that forgeries and thieves? Like in caper movies?" Vanessa sounds suitably impressed even though it isn't the part of FBI work that gets glorified on tv or in movies. "I didn't know that was a whole department on its own. You must have a lot of responsibility."

“It’s a lot of paperwork.” Marcus admits. “Although I’m sure you have plenty yourself.” He chuckles. “I wish that it was like the movies, or that show White Collar that was on a few years ago. I could use a Neal Caffery sometimes.”

"Oh, I don't think I've ever seen it. I guess I have a little homework to do." On whatever the show is, plus on art as a whole. Art class or art history...museums in general aren't really Vanessa's thing. It just never seemed very practical. "Paperwork is okay when there's a rhythm to it. Sometimes I even turn on music quietly in the office while I'm copying and filing. It's really helpful even though it's kind of a no-no."

“Why would that be a no-no?” He wonders if Sam is a stick in the mud. “Most of the time, I encourage my team to listen to music, it helps engage your mind.”

"We try not to have anything on in the office that could interfere with being understood on the phone," she explains, like it's some kind of party line or sage advice that has been handed down to her. "Staying on message is important. And it's hard to stay on message if you can't be heard."

“And what’s your message?” He asks, finding it slightly intense, but he’s not the politician.

"Right now, our message is about serving our community. Working to bring business into our district without threatening existing small businesses, and making sure that we take safety standards into account." Obviously very proud of her work, Vanessa sits up straight in her chair and folds her hands in her lap with the air of someone being interviewed. "The Congressman is paving his own path and we're all on board for the ride."

“I see.” He can approve of such a message, admire it even. The congressman is obviously working for the best of his district and there is something noble about that. “That’s a good message to have.”

“It really is.” When Vanessa nods, it’s eager. “He’s on the fast track to the White House. It’s a privilege to get to work for him now.”

“A fast track, you say?” Marcus works so hard to keep from frowning, not liking the way that it makes it seem as if you are a steppingstone for Sam. Even though that shouldn’t bother him as much as it does.

“Absolutely.” She pauses long enough for the waiter to return for their drink order and explain the beautiful Valentine’s prix fixe menu before leaving them be again for a few minutes. “Congressman Chase has seven more years to be the youngest president ever elected, and he can do it.”

“That’s a lofty ambition.” Marcus agrees, wondering how much of dating the current president’s daughter is included in those plans for the White House.

“It’s going to be great.” She laughs, not the least self-conscious, but shrugs her shoulders. “I like my job a lot. Sorry if I get carried away a little.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Marcus waves that away, although he’s sure he sees hero worship in Vanessa’s eyes, and perhaps a crush on her boss. Nothing wrong with that unless they are being inappropriate and he can’t see the congressman doing that with his ambitions. Some congressmen, sure, but not Sam. “I wish a lot more people enjoyed their jobs like that.”

“It makes hard work worth it,” she agrees, though she does demure and tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “You…must love art? To be so involved with those crimes specifically?”

“I have come to really appreciate it.” Marcus tells her. “I never really stopped to look and think about much art before, but some weekends, I enjoy going through the museums for pleasure and not trying to research a piece.”

"DC is a very good place if you like museums." Even if she's not very big on them herself, she knows that to be absolutely true. It's where she ends up bringing family whenever they visit, so she has seen quite a few of the Smithsonian museums by now. She'd just rather be at a game.

“They are nice. Especially if a game gets rained out.” Marcus agrees, leaning back when the waiter comes back with the first course. “Thank you.” He hums and looks up at Vanessa. “This looks amazing.”

“It really does.” Vanessa looks as delighted as Marcus does and she offers him a sincere smile. “I’m very glad you decided to ask me out tonight.”

“I am too.” He smiles at her even if he feels guilty that he’s not as glad has he had been before he realized the connection to Sam Chase and therefore….you. He picks up his Prosecco and holds it up. “To positive first dates.”

“Absolutely.” Their glasses make lovely clink as they tap together and Vanessa smiles again, very glad that she decided to take this step to try to get over the crush she has on her boss.

“Looks like the inn is fairly packed tonight.” Sam hums as he pulls into the employee only portion of the oyster shell parking lot. He’s not upset for you business-wise, but he wished there weren’t so many people there.

“The night manager had the idea to keep our sitting room open for some live music, and it seems like people have stayed. It must have been a success.” The rooms aren’t sold out tonight because there are early check-ins for that party in the morning, but managing to keep people in house and engaged is a huge deal.

“Interesting concept.” Sam’s not really sure if that would attract the kind of clientele that you want here, but he’s a politician, not an inn owner. “Hopefully not too late?” He asks, wondering if it will be noisy into the late night. That’s not romantic.

“It should be over soon,” you promise him, seeing that your watch reads almost eleven o’clock.

“Good.” Once out of the car, he rushes around the hood and wraps his arm around your waist. “I don’t want them to interrupt our plans for tonight.”

“Nothing’s going to interrupt us.” Heading for the back door, you can pop right into the elevator to head upstairs without having to interrupt anything that’s going on or get sidetracked by Malachi. You just want to take a peak into the sitting room but that’s all. “And you can sleep in, in the morning after I’ve tired you out.”

"Is that a promise?" Sam asks playfully, allowing you to lead him away from the elevator and down the hall.

"Absolutely." The rest of the date had smoothed out, being a relatively quiet and pleasant night Now that you're back at the inn with a bag of Sam's things to stash away in your bureau, you're feeling a little bit flirtier and more upbeat. "And when you come downstairs after you finally drag that excellent butt out of bed, I'll have Syd make you some breakfast."

“I do love her breakfasts.” Sam groans, smirking at you playfully. “So you are planning on wearing me out completely?” He squeezes your waist and looks ahead towards the music.

"I'd say you deserve a night of intensely deep sleep, and I intend to make sure you get it." There is a little line waiting for the elevator as guests start to go up to their rooms for the night, so you hang back with Sam and look toward the sitting room instead. The music coming through is atmospheric and sweet and you are right about to lean your head on Sam's chest while you wait — when you spot someone unexpected in the sitting room.

Marcus had decided that just because Vanessa works for Sam doesn’t mean that he can’t have a nice night with her. The music had sounded lovely floating from the sitting room and he had asked if she wanted to stay. Now, they are dancing and he hasn’t thought about you in at least five minutes.

It's not exactly a gasp, but you end up trying to swallow whatever noise of surprise you were going to make when you spotted Marcus with his date in the the other room — and instead of keeping your reaction to yourself you end up choking on your own damn spit and coughing hard enough to worry Sam.

“Are you alright?” Sam pats your back and leans in with a worried look on his face while you wave him away. “What’s—” he glances around the room and immediately stiffens. “What is he doing with Vanessa?” He asks, his voice bristled with a slight anger he can’t shake.

"Vanessa?" You hadn't even seen who he was with, just choked at the sight of Marcus enjoying a quiet, romantic moment with another woman — something which you know shouldn't bother you but it had been a whole five minutes since the last time you thought about him so apparently that is your maximum. "Like your aide Vanessa?"

“How does he know her?” Sam ignores the question, staring holes into the FBI agent that is currently slow dancing with said aide and making her beam up at him in a way that has Sam wanting to drag her away from him.

"I don't know." He's practically fuming, and your forehead furrows as you turn your eyes back from the couple in the other room to Sam beside you. "Why does it matter?"

“I find it funny—” his tone definitely says otherwise, “that this man just magically shows up, gets invited to a game night and is now cozying up to my top aide.” Sam knows that he’s already been tagged by the DNC as a rising star, his own seat on the council is indicative of that, and now there’s this FBI that is showing up everywhere.

"He's friends with Juan." The defense in your voice is impossible to miss, and you cross your arms defiantly over your chest like you're waiting for him to pick a fight. "Maybe they were introduced by a mutual friend? Met in a coffee shop? Found each other on a dating app? Who knows?"

“And they just happened to book your inn as a date?” He scoffs slightly, unable to believe that fanciful tale and narrows his eyes as Marcus twirls Vanessa around and pulls her back against him.

"Why don't you go interrupt them and find out if you're so curious?" This has taken a very deep turn for the worse, and you can only be glad that the last guests waiting for the elevator near you have gone up so you're more or less alone now. Of course Agent Bailey is nearby, but she never comments.

“No.” He wants to. That’s the problem, and he knows it’s not a good move. Frowning, he turns away from the dancing couple. “Let’s go upstairs. The music is horrible.”

It's not. At all. But this isn't about the music and both of you know that silently even if it isn't said out loud. Sam jams his thumb in the 'Up' button for the elevator again but you say nothing, glancing back at the sitting room one more time to wonder if Sam is upset about the date that is happening for the same reason you are. And if he is...what does that mean for the two of you?

Once upstairs, Sam steps out of the elevator and sighs. “Can we just have the apartment to ourselves?” He directs his question to Agent Bailey, not looking at you.

There are certain protocols that have to be upheld, and Agent Bailey looks to you before starting them. “Ma’am?”

In your mind it’s awfully rude, knowing that asking her to sit in the hallway means hours and hours of uncomfortable sitting, but you also know that Sam is…in less than a good mood right now. And while you’re cranky too, you would rather try to smooth things over if you can. “If…you wouldn’t mind?”

“Please stay here.” Bailey directs you both. She’ll do a sweep of the apartment to make sure no one is waiting for you, and then she’ll take a chair into the hallway. She won’t say so, but she doesn’t mind not hearing a fight if it happens. Or the makeup sex. Neither one is her favorite.

Once you two are alone, Sam sets his bag down, aware that the mood of the evening is ruined and it’s his fault. “Do you want me to leave?” He asks, not even sure if he wants to stay at this point. Especially if Vanessa and that agent will also be spending the night under this roof. He’s not happy to see his best aide here, and usually he’s always happy to see her.

“Can you explain to me why you’re so upset?” It’s definitely uncomfortable, this tension that hangs in the air now, and you try not to let your eyes drop to the right before going back to him. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just surprised. He’s the one who got mad.

“It’s— I’m not—” There’s not a rational reason why he’s upset, and logically he knows this. “I don’t like the fact this man seems to be everywhere.” You had told him about meeting Marcus at the market and it seems as if he’s suddenly everywhere when a few weeks ago, no one knew this man was even in the area. “Strange in my eyes.”

“It’s just a coincidence.” That’s what you’ve told yourself, anyway. It has nothing at all — nothing whatsoever — to do with the universe putting you into situations where you’ll bump into each other. Not at all. “The Secret Service did a background check on him. He’s totally clear.”

“Then I guess I’m just overreacting.” Sam sighs and wipes a hand down his face. “I should go.” He knows that if he stays, the night won’t proceed like it was planned and he’s better off going home. You don’t seem too happy with him. “Unless you want me to stay?”

What you want, and what you should do, and what seems like the healthiest decision for your mental health all are different things. You should tell him to stay, brush it off, and try to salvage the evening. You want to go downstairs and interrupt that damn date to find out if Marcus Pike is as good a dancer as he seemed to be in the small space of the sitting room. But what’s best for your mental health? Is probably neither of those things. “Maybe I can come over this weekend and we can try to have a less stressful night at your place instead?”

Sam is silent for a moment and then nods. Understanding that something has fundamentally shifted in your relationship and trying to figure out what that might mean for the future. “Sounds good.” He agrees and looks at his bag before picking it up. “I’m sorry about how the night ended.”

“So am I.” The air between you feels different. Colder or heavier or just more tense, but you won’t back down just for the comfort of having him next to you in bed tonight. That isn’t fair to either of you.

Instead of a romantic kiss, Sam leans in and presses his lips to your cheek. “I’ll text you when I get home.” He promises, stepping back and frowning slightly before nodding. He had honestly expected you to change your mind, but he won’t beg to stay, knowing it’s not the best idea.

“Get home safe.” A long moment passes with thick air hanging between you before Sam nods again and opens the door, stepping out of your apartment and back in to the elevator. “It’s just us tonight,” you tell Agent Bailey, who comes back into the room the moment she hears the door. “The Congressman has gone home for the night.” And of referring to him by his title instead of his name isn’t a big fucking clue to you right then and there, it should be.

It’s not surprising, given the way the evening has turned sour, but it’s not her place to say anything. “Very well.” She nods. “If you need anything, let me know.” She intends to stay outside and let you sulk if you need to. She hadn’t missed ’the Congressman’ title instead of Sam.

“You can stay inside.” Banishing your Secret Service detail to the hallway is one more thing that rubbed you the wrong way. “I’m just going to go to bed. But the coffee you like…the vanilla caramel one? It in the cupboard above the coffee maker. Any time you want to make some.”

“Thank you.” The couch you don’t mind her sitting on is a lot more comfortable than the chair in hallway and she appreciates that you don’t mind her using the bathroom either. “Is there anything you need before you go to bed?”

“No.” You’re too afraid to ask if you did wrong by letting Sam go home, so you don’t even consider it. “Tomorrow’s an early morning. Agent Sisson coming to relieve you early?”

“Five.” She nods. “If you need to be up earlier, I will be here.”

"I won't be up until after that." Unless you can't sleep, which is a serious possibility considering how poorly the night went and how half of your thoughts are currently downstairs in the sitting room. "So I'll see you tomorrow, Agent Bailey."

“Goodnight, ma’am.” It’s best to keep things formal, although she feels bad that your evening did not end up like it was supposed to. And incredibly interested in the reaction of the congressman to Marcus Pike’s presence.

"Good night." Going to your room alone isn't what you wanted for tonight, but it feels like it's for the best. All you can do now is hope that you sleep.

The next morning is a flurry of activity, but Sydney notices that you aren’t rushing in from the parking lot when you come into the kitchen, looking like you didn’t get much sleep last night. “Good morning sunshine.” She teases, reaching for the coffee pot to pour you a cup.

Teasing barely earns her a grumble in return, but you gratefully accept the cup of coffee she pours you and turn to doctor it immediately. “That early check-in group should be here in a half hour.”

“I already have a breakfast spread ready for them.” She motions to the counter and the baskets she has already started filling with baked goods. The bowl of fresh fruit is inside a hollowed-out watermelon. “I couldn’t sleep.” She explains. “Indigestion.”

“There’s a joke in there about swallowing too much cum, but I’m too tired to make it.” You huff though, trying for a smile for your best friend. “It looks great, Syd. Thank you for working so hard.”

She sees through you instantly and frowns, moving around the counter and wiping her hands on the ever present rag tucked into the pocket of her chef’s jacket. “What’s wrong?” She asks, feeling your forehead and looking like an over anxious mother hen worrying over her baby. “Are you not feeling good? Juan, Malachi and I can handle this if you need us to.”

“Not a chance.” Considering you never take sick days even when you’re actually sick, there is no way you would make your team handle a big event without you. “It’s nothing. I just…had a bad night. That’s all.”

“Everything alright?” She frowns, tutting at your stubbornness and moving over to the espresso machine to give you a shot to help boost you up.

“Sam and I had a little…series of tiffs,” you admit with a sigh. There is a pan of her fresh baked broscia nearby and the Sicilian brioche-style bread is calming to you to be crammed full with jam and butter so you grab one still warm. “We got into it at the restaurant over me having to be at work early today and then again later when he flipped out about Marcus being here on his date.”

“Marcus?” Her head whips around and she gives you an utterly confused look. “One, why was he here? Two, why was Sam upset about that?”

“He must have stayed after dinner. For the musician that Malachi brought in.” Sam had been cranky about it, but you thought the singer at the piano had been lovely. “He…uh…Marcus, that is…did you see who his date was? When they came in for dinner last night?”

“I didn’t see, it was crazy in the kitchen, but Malachi told me that it was Vanessa.” She huffs. “How the hell do they know each other?”

“I don’t know. But the same question made Sam so upset that he ended up leaving my apartment last night instead of staying over.” The best you can do is shrug your shoulders. Because as much as it bothers you? You know why it does. There’s no mystery there, only guilt. “He thinks there’s something suspicious about Marcus, apparently.”

“Something suspicious about Marcus Pike?” She chokes out, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it. “The FBI agent? The man who was an Eagle Scout?” She and Juan had pulled that nugget of information out of him at game night.

“Because apparently, he’s ‘suddenly everywhere’ when none of us had seen him before.” Jam and butter join your bread roll and you sigh a little at the comfort of it. “I think it’s just confirmation bias. Like we probably were in the same places as him before, we just didn’t know to look for him.”

“Well…Juan would have recognized him.” Syd reminds you. “So that’s not exactly true, but I understand what you mean.” She sighs and hesitates for a moment. “Do you think it’s him or because he was with Vanessa?” She knows the other woman has a crush on Sam, it’s obvious from the hero worship stars in her eyes when she’s around. She knows Sam isn’t the type to cheat, but maybe there’s some feelings there that are repressed.

“I feel like that didn’t help.” Coffee and a little breakfast is helping. You can think a little straighter even if you don’t like the thoughts. “I know Vanessa has a thing for him. It’s not subtle. But before now I didn’t think there was cause for concern the other way.”

“It could be that Sam thinks that Vanessa could give away information that he could use if Marcus wanted to cause problems between you and Sam.” She rationalizes. “Slightly conspiracy theorist in my mind, but I could see how it could be construed.” Sydney enjoys playing Devil’s advocate, even if she likes Marcus and doesn’t think he is angling for anything.

“Before last week, I didn’t think there were problems between me and Sam.” It’s disconcerting to realize, as you stand here and talk through it with your best friend, that your relationship has not been as steady as you once thought. “Now? I don’t know.”

“Other than his overreaction, what makes you think that?” She asks, aware that you’ve been a little edgy lately but every relationship has ups and downs at times.

“He seems…really agitated lately. Much more upset than usual about having an agent around. Last night he wanted Agent Bailey to sit out in the hall while we slept, how does that make sense? And making comments about the future of our relationship to other people?” To Vanessa’s parents, now that you think about it. It sometimes slips your mind that his most trustworthy aide is also the only daughter of one of his largest donors. “Everything just feels on edge.”

“Have you talked about all this? Like really sat down and talked?” She frowns, not liking what she is hearing, although it could just be a case of miscommunication.

“Before now there hasn’t really been a reason.” Or at least, there hasn’t been such an obvious compilation of reasons. “And considering he never texted me back when he got home last night, now I’m wondering if he’ll be willing to sit down and hash things out.”

“I’m sorry.” She slides the shot of espresso over and reaches for your hand. “I like Sam, but if it doesn’t work out, it’s better to find out now, than down the road.”

“With the whole soulmate thing and now this kind of…weird accumulation of things?” You shake your head and just sort of shrug awkwardly. “I feel discouraged in a way that I really wasn’t expecting.”

“I’m sorry.” Immediately feeling guilty, Sydney’s shoulders drop and she bites her lip. “I shouldn’t have teased you about finding out what kind of hummingbird tattoo he has.” She hadn’t expected it to cause so many problems, or for you to be so resistant to it. Before Sam, you would have demanded to see the tattoo right away just to disprove the soulmate theory. “What can I do to help you?”

“Honey, you’re growing a literal human. You have enough to deal with.” It’s disheartening, and confusing, and frankly you’re shocked that you’re so willing to throw up your hands. That’s not like you at all.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t and won’t be there for my best friend.” She argues, frowning at you. “Your shit is my shit, remember? I’ll be expecting you to do a rotation getting up with the baby.” She jokes, wanting you to laugh a little.

"If we still lived together, I absolutely would." Being in this apartment upstairs is actually the first time you've ever lived alone — taking over the role of caretaker for the inn when Sydney moved out of the apartment you had been renting in Old Town to buy a house with her soulmate. "At this point I feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place...and one of those blockages is purely made up of how confused I am over...just feeling like I want to throw in the towel instead of working things out. That's not who I am. Or not who I have been."

“Honey, sometimes you just…don’t want to work things out. That doesn’t make you a failure.” She hums. “You might just realize that you have different goals.”

"But why do I feel that way?" There's only a few bites of your bun left and you know that today is going to be a peckish day. You tend to nibble when you're worried. "Is it just because I'm having doubts? And why am I even having doubts? It's...soulmates never mattered to me before this."

“Maybe it’s because of the man and not the soulmate aspect?” She probes gently. “Let me ask you this….if you weren’t in a relationship with Sam, would you be interested in Marcus. Even without the soulmate possibility?”

"I—" It feels dirty. A kind of guilt you really don't like and makes your skin crawl. But this isn't a situation you're going to lie about. Not when you're literally asking your best friend for help. "I mean...probably. Yeah."

“Then you should step back. From Marcus or Sam, that decision is yours. But some space might be needed to figure out what you are feeling.” Syd suggests.

"All the social media shit from our date last night is going to go viral really fast if anyone gets a whiff that we've broken up." Just as astonishing as the idea that you would even consider ending things, it's alarming how fast your heart knows the right decision to make. Or at least what you perceive as right in this moment. "It's going to be a shitshow..."

Sydney doesn’t comment on the fact that it seems like you’ve made up your mind, just humming. “Take it slow. It doesn’t have to be some kind of announcement.”

"The last thing I want is to have to make an announcement." The end of your coffee cup comes all too soon, and you fill it up again with a sigh. This morning is going to be a lot for many different reasons. "Syd...you would stop me if you thought I was making the wrong choice, right?"

“I would definitely try to talk to you.” She promises. “I like Sam, I really do, but if you don’t see yourself marrying him, well—” she shrugs. “Just give yourself a week, how about that?”

"Have I really reached the point in my life where it's not worth staying with someone that I don't see myself marrying?" That is a fairly rude awakening because of how honest it is, and you stifle a groan in one hand. "You're right, and I know you're right. But the State Dinner for the Spanish royal visit is in just over a week. The last thing I want is to have to go to that alone."

“To make it fair, give yourself that time.” She tells you. “Give him an honest try and if you still can’t see it, then you have your answer because Sam is the type to want marriage.”

"I want to get married, too." You always have. Ever since you were little. You reveled in family weddings and dreaming in your own big day. You had even talked to Marcus about it at the market. But whenever the future comes up with Sam, it ends up feeling tense now. "I just...it's a lot to even think about, Syd. You and Juan just...you're so good together. I don't think I'll ever get that lucky."

“I think you will.” She encourages. “My relationship with Juan isn’t without work.” She reminds you. “We still have to communicate and work through issues.”

"But it's worth it because you love each other so much." The sentence is out of your mouth before you have a chance to really sit on what you're saying, and just seconds after you hear yourself say it, your shoulders fall in defeat. "Oh...fuck..."

“What is it?” She asks, frowning at the way you just seemed to deflate.

"It's worth it for you and Juan to work through your issues because you love each other so much." Repeating the phrase makes it hurt all the more, because you didn't realize until this exact moment that it doesn't apply to you. At least, not anymore. "I...don't think I feel the same way..."

“Oh honey.” Her expression softens and she is immediately around the counter again, this time pulling you in for a big hug.

"I'm okay," you insist, through very obvious tears that announce the contrary. "I'm okay." You have to be. You have work to do, and you can't greet a large family party here to announce and celebrate an engagement with runny mascara. "I...have to be okay."

“Listen.” She lets you go and takes your shoulder to look you in the eyes. “You are going upstairs. Ahhh.” She stops you when you start to protest. “Take ten minutes, take an hour, take all day, but take some time to yourself before you start running around dealing with the very obvious results of love.” She tells you. “I can get them started with food and then Juan can take over to take them to the venue.” She shakes her head, huffing when you open your mouth again. “No, I’m not listening. Now go.”

"I'll be back in ten minutes." The best thing you can do for yourself today is keep busy, but she's right that you need to have a clear head for things to go well. "I just...I didn't know this was going to happen today. Or ever."

“I know, babe.” She squeezes you again and sighs. “But I’m here for you. Completely.”

"Thank you, love." Squeezing her tight against you as much as you can, you steal your second coffee away with you from the kitchen and head back upstairs with Agent Sisson following behind.

Sydney sighs as she looks at the door you disappear through for a moment before turning back to her work. The best way she can help you right now, is to make sure the incoming clients are happy.

Walking out through the back hall, you clutch your mug of coffee and try to hang onto a thread of dignity until you get back upstairs. There are more tears pressing at the back of your eyes and you absolutely do not want them shed in public. The elevator is in use, apparently, and you jam your finger in the button a second time for good measure before blowing out a sigh. What a great fucking Valentine’s last night turned out to be, and what a terrible fucking day this is looking like…

The little toiletry kits provided in the rooms are a godsend and both Marcus and Vanessa quickly clean up after the alarm had woken them. “Can’t believe we drank so much and we don’t have hangovers.” Marcus hums, riding the elevator down to get a quick breakfast with his Valentine’s date. They had ended up finishing a bottle and then having another few glasses while dancing. Feeling too drunk to safely get home, the night manager had agreed to let them take one of the rooms on the promise they would check out early. He has been grateful and eagerly agreed. “How about you?”

“Normally I would say I’m still drunk,” Vanessa admits with a sheepish laugh. “But I’m okay. I think it’s just a miracle and I’m not in the habit of questioning those. Though I could use some breakfast.”

“I’ll get you fed and then get you home so you won’t be late to work.” Marcus promises. He will be late, but he had already told his team to come in late, so it’s just paperwork that he’s missing.

“In case no one has ever told you before, you are a consummate caretaker.” It makes a girl like Vanessa feel very special, who spend her working hours caring for someone else and her downtime making sure to live up to her parents’ expectations, and while Marcus Pike isn’t quite her dream man — he’s handsome and sweet and she would be stupid to ignore that.

"I like to make sure people are happy and safe around me." Marcus shrugs off the praise with a small grin. "I took you from your house, it's only right I deliver you back to it." He hums as the elevator stops and dings before the doors open. "Now to get you fed."

When the elevator doors slide open in front of you, the most unwelcome sight in the world is waiting. The vision of Marcus Pike and Vanessa D’Amario in the same clothing you saw them wearing last night, looking refreshed and giddy huddled together in one corner of the elevator car makes you want to turn on your heel and flee back into the kitchen. And you probably would, if you weren’t rooted to the spot in shock and trying to remember how to breathe.

Vanessa murmurs your name in surprise. "I—I didn't expect to see you here this morning!" Her eyes dart around, almost nervously as she expects Sam to pop up. "I—uh, is Congressman Chase here?" She asks, "I thought— he said that you had a date." Normally dates between you and Sam included sleepovers.

“He’s not here.” You won’t invite questions by giving extra information, but when your feet remember how to work, you step out of the way to let them off the elevator. “I—um—I was just headed upstairs.” Sam is going to be in a very foul mood if he’s coming off a bad night and Vanessa walks in looking freshly fucked, and that almost makes you sob all over again. “N—nice to see you, Vanessa. Marcus.”

Marcus can't even do more than just nod and lift his hand and wave slightly, feeling foolish as he watches the doors slide closed and your eyes meet his in a kind of silent agony. "Well," Vanessa giggles and Marcus can't help the way that he swallows guiltily, like he's done something wrong. "I guess that's one way for my boss to learn I had a date."

______

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[sibylsleaves]

What happens after buck and eddie get together.

hello friend IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

There are literally SOOOOOO many fun storylines that could come out of this but like, first of all, how do you even start a relationship that you're basically already in the middle of??? This is NOTHING like starting a relationship with someone new, or even someone you're casually friends with (as you could argue Buck and Taylor were) this is...starting a relationship when you already know that in the event of your death this is the person you want to raise your child. This is starting a relationship knowing this person has already seen you at the lowest of your lows, that this person knows EVERY intimate, embarrassing, silly detail about you. like yeah that's beautiful but I also think it would be surprisingly difficult to navigate.

Like. Especially if you're Buck and Eddie who both, in different ways, have such an idealized view of romance (I would actually argue Eddie more so than Buck in many ways). And yeah, i think they've done a lot of work to deconstruct that BEFORE they even get together, but it's still like...a complete rewiring of the way you operate in a romantic relationship and that's not going to happen overnight. They're going to stumble over little things that feel awkward or unnatural because maybe they're still trying to fit this into a more familiar version of romance before they realize they don't HAVE to do that. Do they just continue on the way they've been but now they kiss and have sex? Do they start going on dates? Do they start calling each other pet names? How much time is it acceptable to spend with a brand new romantic partner who is also the man named in your will to raise your child if you die AND ALSO your coworker who you see for 24 hours at a time. Do they have different ideas about the answers to these questions and how do they navigate THAT?

And speaking of being coworkers, is there gonna be conflict with the 118 because it's technically against policy for them to date and be on the same shift? Maybe one of them transfers to a different shift but oh no now they never see each other! Cue a storyline where they prove how good of a team they are and that the fire chief (or whoever) shouldn't force bobby to separate them. And also, their lives are SO intertwined that whenever a conflict arises it's like. Who am I supposed to get an outside perspective from? YOU are the person I always go to with my relationship problems. And literally everyone else I know is ALSO your friend. So potentially we'd get some opening up of more relationships on the show, particularly for Eddie who almost ALWAYS goes to either Buck or, less frequently, Bobby with relationship issues. (Buck still has Maddie) But like. Bobby is BASICALLY Buck's dad so???? and even Carla, who seems to be at this point lowkey written out of the show, knew Buck first!!!! Eddie either has to talk to his parents (difficult because they've never approved of his relationships in the past and I think it's still probably touchy subject for them), Pepa (i actually love this option but also she's a different generation and sometimes you really DO need the opinion of someone who intimately understands modern relationships. Or maybe we get Eddie rekindling his friendship with Linda, or getting closer with Karen (this is after they get trapped in a well together thanks ryan guzman).

And in general (stealing this from @try-set-me-on-fire's recent post about them fighting) HOW do they navigate conflict in their relationship because we really DONT see them have much conflict in their friendship, so what happens when a relatively small issue in their relationship blows up into something bigger just because they literally DONT KNOW how to argue with each other.

And I haven't even touched the Christopher of it all yet. I DO think there's juicy conflict to mine there, because as many people have said I could see there being real fear for him about what happens when/if this relationship implodes the way ALL Eddie's relationships have imploded. I think it could go one of many ways, but what's interesting for me here is Chris is NOT ten years old anymore. He's a teenager, and his emotions are way more complex than just "ANGRY AT DAD." I could see him saying he's fine with it but then acting out in other ways that make Buck and Eddie realize he's NOT actually fine with it (kind of mirroring how we saw in 7x01 Chris acting out by stringing girls along being a symptom of Not Being Fine about Shannon's abandonment). And how Buck and Eddie might have to actually WORK to even get to a place to have an honest conversation about what his fears are.

Anyway I just think there's so much new exciting storytelling ground for them once they get together this is just the tip of the iceberg

[febrezeluna]

OUAW [Mostly Frost and Gricko] Drawing Ideas

So I have a ton written down in my own list but I never do all of my drawing ideas that I write down so I figured I'd put them out there for others if anyone wants them these are free rein Also keep in mind I am a Gricko x Frost truther so a lot of these are about them LOLL

Frost using his mind powers to win all the carnival games at the Witchlight Carnival so that he can give Gricko all the big plushie prizes

Hootsie being an iPad kid but Torbek gets distracted by it as well so he's just sitting over her shoulder watching those fuckin dancing vegetables 10 hour videos

One of these written down is just "Gricko plays Clash of Clans and Frost considers murder" so not totally sure what that one means

Gricko [Or anyone honestly] wakes up in the middle of the night and sees Frost doing that cat thing where he stares at them but his eyes are that really scary glossy thing and they get jumpscared

Hootsie wants like a treat or something and Frost says no but then she does the puppy dog eyes and he fuckin breaks and gives it to her

Gricko tells Frost to take care of Hootsie while he's gone, and Frost goes a bit too overboard and baby-proofs everything

This isn't a specific scene but I just think Gricko would make a ton of friendship bracelets and Frost would secretly wear them

Frost and Kremy hissing at each other [mostly bc both of them can technically do that]

Okay I know there aren't that many Kremy or Gid ones in here but that's because I haven't learned to draw them yet so I don't have any ideas for them I might add to this another time but here you go tumblr

[fastcardotmp3]

cw: substance abuse, addiction, stobin drugging-related PTSD I'm home sick and found this fully written in my drafts? from march?? apparently?

Steve and Robin, who make jokes about that time we did LSD like it's a funny anecdote to the point where no one knows the actual context of the situation.

(Dustin and Erica would know, if Steve and Robin weren't still self aware enough to decidedly not make jokes about it where those two can hear)

(But still.)

Steve and Robin, who only trust a drink if it comes from the other, who trade off sober duties even if someone else is already designated driver because it's not the same as making sure one of them always has their wits about them.

Steve and Robin who, in the very immediate aftermath of Starcourt, develop two drastically different relationships with substances-- Robin who is detrimentally afraid of the glass of wine her parents sometimes offer her on special occasions versus Steve who can and will try everything available to him just to prove again and again that it was never going to kill him even if he felt like he was dying at the time.

They self destruct in equal but opposite ways for the rest of that first summer before the looking out for each other starts, before the coping via humor starts, before the decision to just call it LSD Steve because if I have to try and process that it was something that I can't read and learn about on top of everything else--

It's not like it ever leaves them though, this way that this specific trauma has fucked them up.

(It's not like Dustin and Erica don't notice, no matter how hard their friends try to hide it.)

It's not like there's anything they can do about it when Steve relapses and goes on a bender that has him losing a whole day of time and waking up to Robin checking his heart rate or when Robin thinks she's in a good enough headspace to do shots with their friends and ends up on the floor of another dirty bathroom with Steve holding her hair back, less from the booze and more from all the hyperventilating, the tears that won't stop until long after she's sober.

(It's not like people don't notice when Robin's jokes about their little LSD trip get pointed on nights Steve's had a bit too much, or how Steve cuts her off from making those jokes at all on nights her hands can't steady around a plastic cup; it's not like they could hide anything from people like this, who hunt monsters and solve mysteries and swallow horrors like the smoothest of whiskeys.)

(It's not like Dustin hasn't gone to Eddie when he gets worried, even if he never spills the whole story. It's not like Erica hasn't asked Nancy unsubtle questions about how to help people with dependency issues. It's not like Eddie and Nancy haven't spoken their own concerns into the quiet dark of night over crackling phone lines where no one else can hear.)

There are nights like this and they happen like clockwork, nights in the little house in Indy for which only two of them are technically on the lease but four and then six and sometimes a whole gaggle of high schoolers still pass through like transients every weekend.

There are nights like this, when the youngest of their ranks aren't around and the booze flows freely and they're out on the porch watching the sun set late with the lift and pull of summertime, when a conversation goes sour with a comment that betrays something that has yet to be spoken aloud.

Steve and Robin.

Steve and Robin who have clearly been through something the rest of them aren't privy to; Steve and Robin who mention it offhandedly without any proper details; Steve and Robin who are hurting right there in front of them and how are they supposed to help how are any of them supposed to--

"Okay, that's it--"

"Nance..."

It's Eddie's warning tone but it's also Jonathan giving her that look from where he's perched on the porch rail and it's also the sudden tension in Robin's brow and confusion in Argyle's and something painfully close to resignation in Steve's.

But this is Nancy Wheeler. It's a miracle she's let them go on like this for as long as she already has.

"No, I'm over the secrets," she shakes her head once, definitive, and levels her gaze on those twin hearts curled together on the porch swing. "You two are going to tell us what happened to you-- who hurt you-- and we're going to fucking fix it."

Steve and Robin, who lean impossibly closer into each other's space.

Steve and Robin, looking ready to bolt.

Steve and Robin, who don't look hopeful for any sort of fixing.

But it's not like it was going to stay unspoken forever.

[james-stark-the-writer]

okay, i have the time to spare — well, no, i don't, i have a final paper due in a few days that i haven't even started yet but it's fine, i'll be fine, this is part of my process, let's continue with our stupid DCEU binge, so, next up is The Flash, so this is technically homework for it, but i've been meaning to get these movies off of my watchlist forever. i'm not fucking watching Adam West Batman for homework, it deserves better than that, you can't make me, i'm also not devoting that much time for a fucking Flash movie that i'm going to hate probably (i don't really know much about it, but just based off what everybody else said and how i already think it's spiritually and morally corrupt for doing what it does to dead people, but also Christina Hodson wrote it, and she has written the best DC movie — second place goes to Matt Reeves' The Batman — so it might be good? we'll see soon enough) so, this is what you get.

now seated for Tim Burton's Batman (1989). i'm looking forward to seeing if this is Planet of the Apes Burton or Corpse Bride Burton, Alice in Wonderland Burton or Sleepy Hollow Burton. it says this won an Oscar, but a lot of terrible movies have won Oscars, awards are not what you people think, but let's not get into that today. anyway, i don't really know anything about this movie, like at all other than who plays the Batman so? hopefully it's at least interesting. i have seen like one scene from these old movies with Riddler in some grey building or something at some point on TV? i don't remember which movie it is, don't know if it's this one or the sequels. that's all i really know.

[yanderes-galore]

hello hello, may i request a springtrap romantic concept (fnaf 3)? :3

Sure! Honestly, I'm surprised I've written him this much but haven't done a general concept yet.

Yandere! Springtrap Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Sadism, Stalking, Manipulation, Violence/Murder, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Blood, Emotional manipulation, Threats, Slight gore, Forced "relationship".

It's already been established in all of my Springtrap and William fics that Springtrap is sadistic and ruthless.

During FNAF 3, Springtrap would see tormenting you as a game in his obsession.

By the time he meets you on Night 2 to Night 5, Springtrap sees you as his personal toy.

I'd say his obsession is a moderate speed.

He's technically obsessed once he meets you but his motives change.

Throughout your job he goes from trying to toy and maybe kill you... to wanting to keep you around as a twisted form of company.

Most of his obsession is him playing along with your audio cues.

He always gets so close before leaving you alone.

It's like he's playing/teasing, peeking through your window or from behind the door.

He loves to stare at you, silver eyes staring into your soul.

He craves your fear more than your blood being shed, as heard in one of his AR lines.

Don't get him wrong, he loves the sight of blood from his victims.

It's just farming their fear lasts longer.

Which is essentially what Springtrap is doing until the climax of his obsession.

He's just out of sight, climbing into vents and sitting by your window.

He likes it when you see him so he can watch the fear settle into your face.

When he's bold he'll warm up his raspy voice to speak to you.

Your initial shock at him speaking makes him thrive.

It's him setting down hints that he isn't what he seems.

He's no malfunctioning robot, he's something else.

Based on the smell you can guess.

Plus when you get a close up look at him through the window or doorway, you can see some sort of gunk clings around his metal.

It all makes you very nauseous.

Your little game is simple.

He tries to get in to "claim his prize", while you try to keep him out.

For the first few nights it's easy.

Then by Night 4 Springtrap gets more aggressive, his obsession creeping ever closer to a climax.

By Night 5 or 6, it's almost game over.

Springtrap thinks he's played nice long enough.

As he's watched you these past few nights... he's wanted to get his hands on you.

The idea of making you scream, to feel you in his metal claws, well...

He hasn't had such excitement in 30 years!

Just when you think you'll complete your week, that you'll walk out and leave, Springtrap surprises you.

Before you can do anything all your systems display an error.

You try your best to fend off hallucinations, to reboot your systems to put out and audio lure or seal off a vent.

Only for Springtrap to appear in front of you in the darkness.

He moves the monitors out of the way, a permanent grin on his face.

"Hello there, doll~!"

They way you scream makes him laugh.

Oh you're so cute when you're vulnerable!

He watches as you fall out of your chair, staring at him with big scared eyes.

"I loved our game... hope you wouldn't mind having it every night, dear?... or did you have something else in mind?"

Your game on your last night switches things up.

Instead of him coming to you in your office, it's you running through the attraction away from him.

It's agonizingly long... you're constantly darting in and out of vents and hiding behind walls.

Yet Springtrap knows your attempts at escape are futile.

Eventually you'll grow tired, eventually you may even injure yourself... then he'll strike.

He knows this place better than you.

You aren't the one roaming it every day and night in a bored stroll.

Which means only he knows about the secret backroom.

One he expertly corners you beside, just to push you inside and close the door.

The game is now over... he's won.

You're trapped in the roam, the smell of the rotting animatronic stunning you.

You look around, no other escape....

Where is this? A storage room?

"I've been waiting for this." The greenish rabbit hums, keeping you trapped in a corner.

"You see... you're just about the only company I've had in years. Decades, even."

You fear to ask, yet you try;

"Decades?"

"I've been dead for thirty years in complete agonizing silence. Dead yet living in this robotic shell. But honestly? I've never felt more alive!"

The rabbit laughs, standing over you.

"Now... I have long awaited company, doll. You'll be fun to play with. I think I'll have a lot of fun with you."

This becomes your fate.

You're forever meant to entertain the remains of the sick serial killer.

If he feels he has to, he'll make you immortal with him.

It'll be painful... but to him he thinks it'll be worth it.

That way... he can keep you with him forever as his doll, pet, and toy...

Even when the building burns down... you'll be stuck with him... forever his.

[icarusredwings]

A scrapped scene from "The Man in the Attic" on Ao3.

Written Pre Suketh episodes, Pre Saxteen, depressed 14. Lots of mentions of charater death. They're in the garden talking about crushes.

Rosie

14

..So.. Hypothetically..

Oh bullocks-

Hear me out. You promised you'd awnser any of my questions.

And im starting to regret it.

Hypothetically- If you could pick anyone to marry who would it be?

(His nose scrunches as he grunts, whining)

Can't I pick 5?

You want 5 wives?

Well that's not fair having me pick one when I've been 14- No-15 different people now. I can't just choose one!

Alright if you could pick 5 people to see again, who would you pick?

(He goes silent as he stares at the clouds, his mind going through all of the flings and crushes he's ever had in his entire existence. And yet the name that popped into his head was neither.)

Do they have to be romantic?

Uh…I suppose not.

Susan (Without hesitation) I miss my granddaughter… You’d like Susan..

And the other 4?

Hold on a second! I have to think! sheesh.. just like your mother.. always rushing me..

(She giggles, now waiting and waited For awhile until begining to drift off)

I know my awnser.

(He says after almost 35 minutes of thinking, causing her to jump from a dozed state)

Huh? Oh- what?

Not what. Who. 4 of them. Just like you said. Susan, Sarah Jane, River, and Rose.

But that's only 4.

I can't decide on the last one. Its A tie between so many and it seems unfair to pick just one.. but I guess if I had to or else the earth would explode or something terrible… (A deep sigh) I want to see Patience again..at least.. tell her I haven't forgotten about her- After everything….Wait, why am I telling all this to you? You're a child.

Oi! I thought I was your favorite niece!?

Oh, right. That's why…

you really loved them all didn't you?

What do you mean?

(The look on his face indicates confusion as if wondering why he would have ever stopped in the first place)

You want to see your first wife after all these years. You must have really loved her.

Pssh! I better of! We had 13 kids together!

13!??

What can I say? Your uncle's handsome.

(He licks his fingers and playfully fixes his side burns and eyebrows as she shoves him)

Ew! Gross!

(He giggles before sighing as if talking about them did him some good)

Wouldn't mind seeing Jamie again either but ah well. Not changing my awnsers now... Speaking of which, Hypothetically-

Oh here we go.

You started it- Are they coming here or am I going there? Because I would love to see all of my kids again… But if that's the case I'm going to need you to make an exception and let me see 6 people then.

Forget another wife?

Nah... My daughter Jenny.

Well, there's Scarlette

Who's Scarlett??

Ill tell you when you're older

(He was not about to tell a 15 year old girl about the time he married a sex worker. Not that he was ashamed. He just thought it might be a bit inappropriate to try to explain the whole thing. He didn't want to be that kind of uncle.)

Couldn't you go see her and her mum at the same time?

Wellllll…. her mum is technically machine - or is it still me?

(He ponders for a bit as if this question put him into a spiral of questions)

What?

And im her dad.. ssooo… Yeeeaah.. It's complicated.

You have 14 children…And you never get to see any of them again?

(He stares off into the distance for a while)

…How old are you again?

15. Almost 16. Why?

Right. So you're a big girl then… They're dead, Rose.

(She frowns) All of them?

(He nods,) All of them... as far as i'm aware anyway… I Held held in my arms while she died.. I only knew her 16 hours.. Oh my Jenny.. Im so sorry... your mother named her, you know. Technically, her name is Jane, but she liked Jenny better.

(Rose decided not to push any further, deciding it was for the best, assuming a case of SIDS took his daughter from him. Trying to explain her to anyone was a challenge. Somewhere, in his chest he felt a tiny pang.. Oh Jenny… He hoped he was wrong about her. He hoped she was out somewhere doing good… he'd be proud.)

[amethystfairy1]

Hello! Just finished reading chapter 4 of "You're On the Other Side of the Storm..." and first off let me say it is incredible! Loved watching the Duke get a taste of his own medicine.

I also have two questions. I've seen in a previous ask that you answered that you said when a hybrid's owner dies, the ownership of the contract and hybrid transfers to the next of kin that the owner denotes in the contract when they sign it. My first question is: can someone who holds a hybrid contract go back and change the designated next of kin at any time, and if so, can they do it themselves or is there like the equivalent of a lawyer or someone else who has to change the paperwork officially?

Also, I assume multiple next of kin can be listed, just in case, but then my second question is this: if the owner of a hybrid contract dies and the ownership transfers to someone else, but then all of the next potential inheritors die or are already dead before a new contract can be made (so more inheriters haven't been designated yet), who gets ownership then? Can anyone step in and claim the collard hybrid? Or are there like built in fail safes where the collar then goes back to being controlled by whoever made the collar? Or a previous owner who sold them?

Sorry this is so long and prpbably confusing to follow, I just love getting caught up in tiny details.

Hello, hello! ✨

I'm so glad you enjoyed seeing the Duke have karma catch up to him!

For your first question: Yes! They can change the next of kin written on the contract at any point, it's magic and enchanted specifically to make that possible. But only the owner of the contract is able to make adjustments to it...so for example if a hybrid got ahold of their own contract, they couldn't like...make themselves the next of kin and then kill their owner or something. That wouldn't work.

For your second question: Yes, multiple next of kin can be listed! If all the potential next of kin die, the collars go inert and essentially function as though they don't have a contract. The runes trace the contracts, but they just won't enforce any one specific voice until a new contact is sealed. For example, Scott and Jimmy ran away during a contract transfer, so their collars have no orders in them right now. They both are technically under contract right now, yes, but their owner is nowhere nearby, so the only thing that can happen with their collars is, like, getting hit rune trigger, that sort of thing!

Don't apologize, I love getting asked about tiny details! That's the best part of having opened my asks here on tumblr is getting the chance to ramble about all the little details that don't ever get to be laid out in full in the stories! So thank you for stopping by! 💖

[kiwiana-writes]

Fic Writing Review 2023

Tagged by my fellow stats nerd @stereopticons - thanks pal!

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Words and Fics (fics written in 2023 only)

143,107 words published to ao3. At least 3,900 more guaranteed by the advent fic so... I think I should make a concentrated effort to break 150k, right? 👀

No good way of tracking unpublished words in WIPs written this year. My goal for 2024 is to set up my spreadsheet to track words written as well as published so watch this space.

3 published fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue (book), Schitt's Creek, The Last Of Us (TV show). Technically 1 unpublished fandom in Red White & Royal Blue (film) 😅

Most recent drop: Apart from the daily advent fic drops lilnked above, a PWP interlude in the hockey boyfriend Henry 'verse

Longest (published) fic: By a country fuckin' mile, With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest), aka the Much Ado actor AU, at 65,586 words.

Longest (published) oneshot: Kinda think that I might be his type (Alex and Bea fake date) at 12,864 words

Top Fics by Kudos (fics written in 2023 only)

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) [RWRB, Alex/Henry, rated E, 65,586 words]

Kinda think that I might be his type [RWRB, Alex & Bea + Alex/Henry, rated E, 12,864 words]

We were supposed to find this [RWRB, Alex/Henry, rated M, 3,384 words]

Puck It [RWRB, Alex/Henry, rated E, 9,739 words]

Feel your hands in my hair and you whisper my name [RWRB, Alex/Henry, rated E, 2,508 words]

Miscellaneous Data From My Unhinged Spreadsheet about 2023 fics

To no one's surprise, highest percentage of private bookmarks goes to Bukkake Breaky Heart.

Out of 24 fics published in 2023, 14 were explicit, 2 were mature, 7 were teen and up, and 1 was general audiences

3 fics didn't have a title sourced from anywhere. 3 were sourced from literature/poetry, 3 were puns, and the remaining 15 were song lyrics, with 3 each from Taylor Swift and Matt Nathanson.

My highest kudos/hits ratio was on Empty your heart of its mortal dream, aka the Fae Prince Henry fic.

My fandom fic events in 2023

Nilch nada zip in terms of, like, fests. I wanted to do Threesgiving but the words wouldn't come, so a sort-of-threesome-sort-of-foursome will probably appear on some random day in fucking February or something lmao. However while they weren't fandom-specific events, I did do:

Kinktober 2023

Advent 2023

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2024

I have a lot -- a lot a lot a LOT -- of WIPs that will be completed in 2024, so please don't think of this as an exhaustive list, but they are the ones I'm most excited for:

A Practical Arrangement - @clottedcreamfudge has Devised A Punishment if I don't get chapter two out for y'all by Christmas because my usual methods of pushing past my brain bullshit weren't working, so technically this is a 2023 project 🤣 @ships-to-sail and @celeritas2997 have the carrot and CCF has the stick.

Anastasia AU!!! I LOVE this fic and I think it's in the 'meaty one-shot' range buuuuuut we'll see. It might get a little out of control.

Angstapalooza RWRB edition - this is gonna be another long fic, 10-11 chapters, 50k words ish, and I cannot WAIT to make y'all cry sink my teeth into it. My Schitt's Creeks babes know what happens when I deem something 'angstapalooza' lmao.

Hockey Boyfriend Henry part 3, aka the whole reason I started writing the fucking series in the first place lmao

Leverage AU, which I haven't shared anything of yet because it's a post-angstapalooza longfic but I am VERY HYPE FOR.

Rafael Is Surrounded By Disaster Queers, aka the Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead-style Rafael POV... 5+1? Vignettes? set in the Much Ado actor AU verse. Which at this point is just a gift for @inexplicablymine and @cricketnationrise and I wouldn't have it any other way.

STFAU 👀

*infomercial voice* And much, much more!

BUT, 2024 is also for taking original writing seriously. Maybe flash/microfiction on patreon, definitely diving into an original novel. I've thrown in the towel with my contracting agency in the new year and everything. Ack.

Tagging anyone I've tagged above and also @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @myheartalivewrites and anyone who wants to play because I love data.

[fillipquesender]

The first time Solar ever met cosmos' sun was that he wad just trying to ask cosmos a question and since he wasn't in the theatre he just assumed he was in the fazcade

He goes to the fazcade

He sees cosmos but he doesn't have his hat on

Boom first time meeting cosmos' sun

Uhh I'll try to write the interaction who knows maybe it will turn into a oneshot kinda thing whatever its called

Okay fuck it i'm turning it into a small thing beware its probably going to be really horrible I haven't written a fic in years so bare with me

OH MY GOD WHY IS THIS SO HARD TO START OFF AUDGSGSGSG YES I'M WRITING MY THOUGHTS ONTO THIS YOUA RE GOING TO SEE WHAT I'M STRUGGLING THROUGH

Solar was relaxing in the daycare theatre when a thought came to mind; He had never asked if Cosmos was up to peform for the show later in the day, since the past few days he was acting off.

After standing up with a sigh, Solar walks over to where Cosmos normally was, being at the huge stage in the theatre (i can't remmeber what its called)

"Cosmos?" He calls out, yet there was no reply.

The only other place he could really think of the other being would be the fazcade, despite having not been there for a while after being allowed to peform.

After a long walk (or short, can't remember), Solar eventually reached the fazcade. Just as he expected, the cosmic-themed animatronic was there, but his hat was off, exposing the rest of his rays.

'Cosmos' suddenly turns around, making Solar feel suspicious once he saw that both of the other eyes were blue, rather than one being red.

"Oh, hi! You're the one Ecl- Cosmos is always talking about, right? Solar, is it?" 'Cosmos' chirped, a small grin on his face.

"Uh- Who are you-?" The solar animatronic questioned, not letting his guard down.

"Oh I'm Sun! Well, the sun from cosmos' dimension, that is. Its a lot of explaining that I'll leave for Cosmos. Nice meeting you though, now if you don't mind, I've got to get back to fixing the accidental damage he caused when trying to fix these arcades."

Okay I'm not writimg anymore of this, this is all you're getting out of me

Also fun fact, cosmos' sun is the more technical wise one out of his sun and moon in this au :D

Moon is just a feral animal, basically just canonical/non tsams moon with the virus

I accidentally made cosmos' sun just act like cosmos. Oh well. Making it canon that when his sun is focusing on something he acts like cosmos

[why485]

I finished Train to the End of the World last week and I loved it! This show was a powerhouse of talent and while it had some production difficulties and a somewhat rushed final few episodes, I still thoroughly enjoyed it and looked forward to every new episode.

It's Mizushima's latest work, a director that I know and love from Girls und Panzer, Shirobako, and several others. As with his other shows, there's an awesome level of detail and research on display, with the mechanics and workings of the train on full display. It's great looking, super creative, and has character designs by namo(!!!) who I know and love from Ookami Shounen.

It kinda goes without saying, but I have to mention it anyway. I love the thought and detail that goes into Mizushima's shows. It's not just the technical stuff either, there's so many little things that I noticed as foreshadowing or hinted throughout the series. So many things that when I went back to watch an old episode I would notice a bunch of references to events which haven't happened, or haven't been fully explained yet, but you just didn't know what you were looking at.

Something else this show does that feels really refreshing is the way the dialogue is written. It's so dense, but also super snappy. Everybody always has something to say. The pacing in general is so fast, and I mean that in a really good way. Aside from the really well done (and memorable) "quiet moments" to give you room to breathe and soak in the atmosphere, the characters are almost always doing things when talking. It's so rare you get a scene where the show just stops for a cheap scene of characters talking. Everything and everybody are always moving.

It's really imaginative, and an easy recommend. I wish I talked about it more while it was airing, because it was so fun to come up with theories about what's going on and just discuss but oh well it happens.

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 1

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 1747

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst (mild)

A/N: This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic.

----------------------------------------- Stockroom Antics Chapter 1

You’d think being something supernatural you’d prefer to stay away from people, and live more of a solitary sort of life, but no. You like people, love laughter, and having a job with amazing coworkers brings you a sense of peace and happiness in your life.

One of your best friends at work is Sarah. She’s adorable, fun, and goofy, and you both make each other laugh all day at work while you unbox the truck shipment and get things on the hummers and into the bluebins, to get put out later.

She knows what you are, sort of. Although, not even you yet know the actual name of what you are. You haven’t found anyone you can really trust outside your immediate family to tell the whole truth to. Hell, you don’t need to scare anyone. Most people have no clue what’s really out there and you like keeping it that way. You’ve researched to find a name for what you are but so far, there isn’t a single thing that has your abilities/powers description. 

As you’re out on the floor, getting out one of the hummers with the kitchen items on it, your mind wanders back. When did it start, you think to yourself, absentmindedly. Four years, five now. You’re not sure anymore. Technically you’re in your early forties but ever since it happened, you feel like you’re in your mid to late twenties again. It also seemed as though aging had practically stopped. Most things a forty-year-old body would go through, you haven’t been experiencing. Just the opposite, you truly feel as though you’ve been getting physically younger.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” A woman asks, pulling you from your thoughts, as she can’t see the nametag hanging around your neck with how you’re standing.

You turn to her with a friendly smile, “Yup, how can I help you?”

“I’m just looking for a pan I can cover the top of my stove with,” the woman attempted to explain.

Neither you nor the woman knew the exact name of that particular thing, but glancing down, you notice a rather large cookie sheet on the shelf on the endcap of the aisle you’re stocking, “This might work,” you tell her, picking it up.

The woman is impressed, looking it over, “How much is it?” she asks.

You flip it over and find the tag, “Nine dollars,” you let her know, “Not bad. This is really nice.”

“What about that price? Fifteen?” the woman asks.

“Oh, that is the price you’d find it for at another store. Our price is always on the bottom of the tag,” you reassure her.

The woman is very happy, letting you know that if it doesn’t work to cover her stove, she’ll be making cookies. Of course, this is when your lighthearted side comes out, “I’m here Monday through Friday, always in the afternoons,” you tell her, playfully.

She finds you adorable, smiling at your playfulness and the two of you spend almost three full minutes talking about cookies before she thanks you for your help. You know it will bring your times down that you have to run the hummer in, but to you, seeing a customer smiling and enjoying their visit to the store is what brings you the most joy at work.

You smile happily to yourself as the woman goes on about her shopping trip and you get back to running your hummer of kitchen items. It’s while you’re putting out some of the food that the mess of the section bothers you again. This is one thing you’re not responsible for, straightening the shelves up to make them look nice. You frown a bit, seeing that there is nowhere to put out the box of bagged oats. Checking around, and not seeing anyone nearby, you just think that there is room on the shelf, that it looks a little neater, and it happens in less than the blink of an eye. 

What you didn’t notice was that you were being watched. A man, in his mid-thirties was standing near the women’s clothing racks, just watching you. He was fairly average, with short brown hair, and brown eyes, only about an inch taller than you, wearing jeans, a blue t-shirt, a hoodie, and sneakers. 

You finished the kitchen hummer and then grabbed a toy one, making sure to write down your times on the sheet in the stockroom. The toy hummers were a little different. They had toys, pets, and craft supplies. Being a kid at heart, as well as loving anything stationary, you loved running these hummers. As you were putting out some of the dog toys, you heard the sound of one of the bluebins heading in your direction. It was like the hummers but those bluebins were for women's, men's, and children's items specifically.

Sarah was soon standing at the end of the pet aisle, phone up and recording, a playful smile on her lips, “Aaaannd, you’re fired,” she tried to say seriously.

You pretend to look upset and sad, then toss your arms up with playfulness, “Party at my house!”

The two of you laugh as she saves the video, only to post it online later, your Stockroom Antics tag included. The man who had been watching you earlier continues to do so. Every aisle seems to be a bit of a mess today, so again, you think about it looking a little nicer. Only a little though, you don’t need to draw unwanted attention to yourself from your boss if they watch the cameras.

Ten minutes before your shift ends, Sarah comes back up to you, “Code 99 me?” she asks, and you smirk.

“Oh, so if I don’t, that means you’re stuck here,” you chuckle.

“Not cool,” she replies, playfully, “Should I go find someone else?” she raises an eyebrow.

“Na, I’ll let you out,” you laugh a little. 

The two of you walk to the front of the store, in front of the doors so that you’re both on camera. Sarah opens her bag, and you peek in, “Looks good. See you tomorrow?” you tell her.

“Yup. See ya,” she replies before leaving.

You smile a bit and head to the stockroom. There’s always some cleanup that needs to be done and you enjoy doing those little things that there never seems to be time for others to do. The man continues to watch you, and you still haven’t noticed him, not really anyway. You’d seen him, yes, but to you, he’s just another customer.

The backroom isn’t bad, not today. The girl is working on tagging the shoes with the alarms while a couple of other girls are in the clothing pods tagging clothes and getting them on racks to go out either later on or the following morning. You get some sweeping done, straighten up the bluebins and hummers, then bid them all farewell for the evening. Just as you reach the register to clock out, your ‘end of shift’ alarm goes off.

“Thank you phone,” you say out loud, pulling it out of your back pocket, and then turn it off. Smiling and shaking your head a little.

“See you guys tomorrow,” you tell the two cashiers as you punch out. 

They smile and say goodbye as you head for the door. Since you don’t carry a purse, there’s no need to have a code 99 before you leave. The air is a little crisp, it being the beginning of January in Southern Arizona and you put the hood of your hoodie over your head. It’s been a cold few weeks, although this week has been the worst with the rain. For three days now the low in the mornings has been in the upper twenties and the days barely over fifty. That’s cold for where you live but it happens every so many years.

As you’re walking toward your truck, which you love with all your heart, the man from earlier is following you still. The chill doesn’t seem to be bothering him at all. For now, you believe he’s still just a customer, not paying him much attention. The wind blows just right, from behind you, and all you can smell is sulfur, and a chill runs down your back. You take a deep breath though, calming your nerves. You should have known that picking a job across the street from where you had previously worked wasn’t the best of ideas.

You stayed calm as you walked to your truck. She was quite the beast of a truck. A 91’ F350 XLT Lariat, crew cab, long bed, with a two-inch lift, 1500 lb leaf springs, and 4-wheel drive. You hadn’t saved up enough to have her fixed up like you wanted but you loved her dearly. As you rounded the hood, the man pushed you against your truck, right in front of the tire.

“Found you,” he said in a low, pleased tone, smiling devilishly, “The boss is gonna be pleased.”

Without thinking you put your hand on his chest and the black smoke of the demon's soul began expelling out of his mouth, toward the ground. This wasn’t the first time you’d had to deal with demons and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. The demon looked at you through the man’s eyes, almost in terror but more in shock at what you were doing. He apparently didn’t get the memo of what had happened to the last demon that had gotten too close to you. A smirk crossed your lips as the demon's soul left the man’s body, went into the ground, back to hell where it belonged. 

With the demon now gone, the man was unconscious. You sighed before carefully dragging him over to the closest tree in the parking lot, which you had parked near, and propped him against it. At least he was still alive. Most demons rode whoever they possessed hard, usually killing them in the process. He’ll wake later, you told yourself before heading home.

That night you thought long and hard about whether or not to go back to work the following day. You knew the demon would tell his boss, whom you’d never met, just heard about. That’s when you sat up a little straighter on your couch, a determination in your eyes.

“I’m not letting demons run me out of a job I love,” you said confidently.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in this one, and future chapters, leave me a comment and let me know. :)

Link to the series Master List

[forever-fan]

My FNAF Hyperfixation has inspired me!

So I've been reading a bunch of FNAF time travel fix-it fics. If you don't know what I am referring to, they are basically fics where Michael/William/Henry/basically anyone else finds themselves in the past by some circumstance. They then try to fix the future.

Now that you know what I'm talking about I can actually get to the point. I have decided to write a FNAF time travel fix-it fic. It is tied to an AU, so don't come at me about "canon". Here is a sneak peek at it.

-

Michael wished he died in the fire. Well, technically he was already dead. He had no pulse and he couldn't breathe. His brain had long since stopped working and he got his energy from Remnant rather than digesting food. In all reality, he was a stubborn spirit trapped within his own corpse.

Michael hadn't died in the fire that Henry had set. Hell, his body was barely harmed. All he remembered was passing out before waking up in a random alley. Michael realized someone saved him, but now he was even more alone than ever before.

When the Mega Pizzaplex opened on top of Michael's old restaurant, he knew there would be trouble. Sure enough, there was. Michael took a job as a security guard and found that, while they weren't murderous, the animatronics weren't quite right.

Michael also found his fellow guard, Vanessa, to be a little shifty. She turned out to be way more than shifty when she pushed him into the daycare ball pit from a height that would have maimed or killed anyone else.

Michael's afterlife only got worse when he emerged from the ball pit and found that he was back in Fredbear's Family Diner in 1980.

-

This short introduction obviously doesn't tell you all the fun little headcanons that I have for this fic. I guess you'll just have to read it to find out. Of course, I haven't written in yet. But! I am so hyped about the movie that I think I'll probably finish the first chapter before twenty-four hours have passed.

[Edit: My entire document on Microsoft Word deleted itself from reality... RIP. So... I'm rewriting the first chapter all over again. :> And trust me, I looked through all of my files and drives. Let it be known, I have turned on auto-save cause it sucks to rewrite dialogue, and know for a fact that it's not the same as it was. Also, I lost a doc with half of my headcanons for a different fnaf au. Sadness.]

Real quick, I do have only a little bit of important information for anyone who wants to understand the timeline. (Also so I can remember the basic timeline I made for myself.)

Original Timeline

1968 - Michael is born.

1973 - Elizabeth is born.

1974 - Charlie Emily is born.

1975 - Evan is born.

1980 - William discovers something called Remnant.

1981 - The Missing Children Incident happens and Fredbear's barely stays open.

1982 - William begins to create the Funtimes to harvest Remnant.

1983, March - Elizabeth dies at her friend's birthday party, three days after Circus Baby's Pizza World opened.

1983, August - Evan dies a week after the bite of '83. (FNAF 4)

1983, August - Mrs. Afton [Yet to be named] dies after driving her car off a cliff.

1983, October - Charlie is murdered by William at her own birthday party.

1986 - Michael goes to college to get away from the tragedy and gets a little therapy.

1990, April - Michael receives a letter from his father asking him to find Elizabeth.

1990, June - Michael dies in the Sister Location. (FNAF 5)

1991, January - Michael assumes the name 'Fritz Smith' and works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria before being fired on his first day. (FNAF 2)

1993 - Michael uses the name 'Mike Schmidt' and works at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. (FNAF 1)

1993 - William dies in the Spring Bonnie suit

2000 - Michael works at Fazbear's Fright. (FNAF 3)

2010, Late December - Michael opens Freddy Fazbear Pizza Place. (FNAF 6, Pizzeria Simulator)

2010, Early January - Henry sets the fire, and Michael survives. (Still FNAF 6, Pizzeria Simulator)

2020, July - Michael works at the Mega Pizzaplex and is pushed into the ball pit only six days before the events of Security Breach.

Time Travel Timeline

[To be edited as chapters are added. Peek under the cut only if you have read the most recent chapter, or if you don't give a shit about spoilers.]

1980 - Michael arrives in the past. He is not happy.

[howdy-folks-its-showtime]

It's Showtime! - July 2024 Devlog

Howdy! Cobalt here, and wow, July really went by quick for me. Luckily, I also got a good amount of things done! In fact, I did a lot of things I've been holding off on for a while. Sorry the dev log is late,despite knowing I should, I didn't make notes on what I did this month nor did I start it earlier… Then I had a really bad time with my body (just cramps, dw!) the last few days of the month which made it hard to write. I swear I'll develop better habits for this as it goes on.

when it comes to programming, I've gotten a few minor things going on. I have a cut scene manager script now that keeps track of various things, including which cut scenes have already played but also which cut scenes you've seen between save files and stuff. This way it can make any cut scene you've already seen in any of your playthroughs skippable. I haven't actually gotten the skipping script to work yet nor stuff like triggering the cut scenes, but I'll need more placeholder sort of things to work on that stuff. The inventory also reorganizes itself after you use an item to make sure empty slots are at the bottom and filled ones are on the top. A lot, I mean a lot, of writing has been done this month. On Focuswriter [the program I use for all my writing] I hit the longest writing streak I ever had, 63 days in a row of meeting my daily goal [which is 500 words]! My in-depth/in-game writing doc has 16,783 words right now and my game design document [which contains the story summary] 20,764 words. [It actually shrank a bit because I made the story summary of chapter 1 like an actual summary, instead of being far too in-depth on a lot of parts. But that's still an improvement even if it seems weird on the word counts.] I've done a lot of writing out the story beats I've had in my head for a while but haven’t inserted it into my documents yet. I wanna focus on doing stuff like writing out the ending and more general story beats since I don't really want to go too far into development without way more of the story taken out of my mind and actually written down somewhere. Despite how excited I am to show more to the public. Since we will not be releasing It's Showtime through the chapters, I'm gonna try to make development less chapter focused, I don’t know how we’ll be releasing it, complete or in some other parts… But we’re not really far enough into development to be thinking of that yet. Luckily, I can say confidently I'm delighted with the speed of development so far. It's not much by most standards but for two queers making their first game of this scale while also balancing learning adult stuff, we've done way more than I thought we would so far! In terms of art, there's been both a lot done and not a lot. We've been doing a bit of concept art, getting references done, and speculating on things. But the place where the most progress has been made technically wasn't actually for the project itself… See, this month I think I finally started to really get the hang of blender. I finished a model for a friend of mine of their version of Evan from the Bendy Novels. It's fully rigged and I'm really happy with it. I'm also almost done with two other big models I'm making of someone's Bendy au designs and I'm sure when you guys see them, it'll make you excited for what the models in Showtime will look like. In general, I think I've finally found a workflow I'm happy with, and that allows me to make models both quickly but also to a quality I'm very happy with. I imagine very soon I'll be doing the first true collections of models for Showtime, whether they'll be the ones seen in the final release I don't know. But the practice alone will surely teach me a lot more about Blender.

As for other things… Ink Demonth is happening again and this time, I would love to create something for each prompt. They probably won't be posted daily, or in order, but still, I'd love for me and my partner to make something for each prompt within the month. Specifically related to Encore! and such. It'd be a good way to keep the blog alive and to stir up more attention on It's Showtime! This isn't a promise we will, but I thought I'd mention our hopes for Ink Demonth. Overall, I'd just advise all of you to be on the lookout for things going on with this game. I've got a lot of little plans for it that are almost ready to be put into motion and I'm super excited to show you guys more as things go on. Once again sorry it was late, but I hope this update was exciting! See you guys next month!

[splish--splash--minecraft]

So...I've reached 100 followers now (wowie, thanks guys <3) so I've decided to do a little poll to figure out what AU I work on next!

I'm working on a fic for the tiny apartment AU at the moment, but I'm close to finishing it. My plan was to take a little break from that AU once the fic is posted and work on something else (pizza AU?) but I've decided instead that I'll let my followers decide what they want to see from me!

I have...a lot of options. Including tiny apartment AU, since I'm certainly not opposed to working more on it! I've just been kinda focused on it a lot lately, and I have other AUs. But if enough people want me to keep working on it, well...I won't say no.

I have...a lot of options. I'll give brief summaries of each one to help you decide what you want the most! Some also have more written for them than others, while others still are much longer than others (one AU I have dubbed the "longfic" since...well, it's going to be long).

Below the poll is a summary of the AUs, in the order that they appear in the poll.

Pizza AU

The AU in which Grian works at a pizza place and Scar comes in every week at a ridiculous hour to get a pizza. Found here. This fic is fully outlined, though I've not written much for chapter 2.

Tiny Apartment AU

The one you all know and love. No? Just me? Oh well. I still have a LOT planned for this AU. So many WIPs I've started and still other fics for the series I have planned but haven't actually started. If this wins, I might do another poll with some of the WIPs and let y'all decide which one to work on from there. Maybe.

Lifeguard AU

This one's a fun one! Scar works as a lifeguard. Pearl does, too, and one day she drags her brother (Grian) out of the house and convinces (bribes) him to go with her. He complains the whole way there...until he gets a look at Scar. And when Scar's shift ends and he goes to talk to Grian, he decides that maybe going out of the house to the pool isn't the worst idea. I don't have much for this AU yet. I've started it, but it's not a lot, and I only have some ideas for some scenes. This one also has t4t scarian. just 'cause. Both are transmasc

Longfic

Called such because...well, it's gonna be long. It's currently at about 7k words. Technically it's the long series - it'll be a series of fics that span over the entirety of the life series. Each fic is a season, and it also features some stuff back on Hermitcraft in between each. For now, I'll just work on 3rd life. Oh, also, it's mainly from Scar's POV (though there will likely also be a fic with some scenes from Grian's POV). Basically a deep dive into 3rd life, with canon scenes and some of the...in between.

Royalty AU

Scar is a prince, and Grian the knight assigned to be his bodyguard. Except it's really more to keep him in line, because Scar has the tendency to go off and do his own thing, so his parents assign Grian -someone known to take no shit and takes his duty very seriously - as his bodyguard. At the start, they don't really like each other that much. Over time, though, they get closer. Much closer.

Fallen Watcher AU

You guys remember that guardian angel AU? This is that but I've reworked it a bit. Rather than being a guardian angel, Grian is a Watcher. He's put in charge of Watching Scar. The Watchers have some sort of plan I haven't quite figured out yet, but it involves Scar dying. But Grian...has grown attached to him. He doesn't want Scar to die. But as a Watcher, he's not allowed to do more than just Watch. But he interferes anyway, saving Scar's life, and the Watchers are furious so they cast him out. So now he has to deal with being mortal all while the guy he saved the life of keeps flirting with him.

Ranchers fic

Something that's...not scarian! Wow. Nobody tell them but this is mainly for Grace. It's a double life ranchers fic with (poorly) hidden injury. Since...well, kind of hard to hide an injury when the other can feel your pain.

So...yeah! There's the AUs for this poll. I have more, of course, but these are sorta the main ones. Whichever wins I'll work on after I finish a tiny apartment AU fic. Depending on which AU wins, I may also work on the second place winner alongside it. We'll see.

You're also free to reblog to try and rig it! Bribe people. Try to convince others to vote. do whatever idc have fun